He’d better leave the poor woman alone soon before he did give her an aneurysm. He had places to be and tragedies to scour, retrieving souls for the company. So he gathered his overlong coat and slipped it on, feeling around the pockets to make sure his few tools of trade were on him.
There were things he wanted to say, a little voice in the back of his head prompting him to be more comforting, to reach out and maybe embrace her soul with his, but refrained, keeping a respectful distance. Maybe he’d never been a warm person.
There was still something about her that bothered him, deep down in his ancient bones, even more prominent now that the spirit was gone. Some other presence hovering, someone who felt out of place, her aura reading out of tune, like there were multiple personalities shoved into her. He had brushed the other consciousness briefly, but hadn’t dared to go beyond that, not wanting to possibly wake a sleeping giant.
He eyed the sleeping seer one last time. “Tell him to contact me, if his entourage gives him grief.” With that out, he turned on his heels and strode out of the seer’s bedroom.
Aiden surely wasn’t the most social and welcoming dead, but not dead, person, he however did make sure to give the haunts a good reminder not to intrude on the unconscious man’s abilities for a while, giving them all a little tug to remind them that he might not be the wolf in this tale, but that he had their scent now and it wouldn’t take much to drag them to the afterlife.