“Within hours of Maud’s death, her heir, the child she raised and loved as her own, was stripped of her title, her fortune and her freedom,” Balewa continued, “and I will carry the shame of my actions for the rest of my life. That is why, after serving the Society faithfully for the last seventy-nine years, I chose to step down and relinquish my title.” At long last her gaze settled on me, and there was nothing remorseful in her expression. “Tonight, it is my great pleasure to announce that my last act as Grande Dame is to restore Grier Woolworth to her rightful place within the Society.”
Murmurs rumbled through the crowd, growing louder as the implications set in.
“You mentioned the available evidence convinced you of her guilt,” a Low Society matron called. “What new information exonerated her?”
The present and former Grande Dames exchanged a loaded glance that resulted in my aunt stepping forward while Balewa reclaimed her seat.
“I never gave up hope that one day Grier might be vindicated. I never stopped searching for answers.” The faint tremor in her voice was quite convincing if you overlooked the glacier coldness in her eyes. “A recent health scare—” she placed one hand over her heart “—turned out to be the key to unlocking the mystery.”
Insidious whispers hissed from the dark corners. A Grande Dame admitting a public weakness was a bigger treat than catching beads thrown in Tybee Island’s annual Mardi Gras parade.
“My sister was, as you all know, a brilliant practitioner. She was also enthusiastic in her pursuit of knowledge to the point of being careless with her own health.” Unable to produce a tear, she ducked her head and dashed her fingertips under her dry eyes. “Upon reexamining the evidence from that horrible night, it has been determined that Maud died of a heart attack. It’s rare, but not unheard of, and more common in necromancers her age. The Woolworth line, in particular, is susceptible. Our own mother, Nina Compton Woolworth, died of such an ailment. I myself am now under a physician’s care to monitor my own condition.”
A woman in the High Society balcony stood and waited until the Grande Dame acknowledged her with a curt nod.
“I saw the child marched into the Lyceum that night with my own eyes,” she argued. “She was drenched in Maud’s blood. What say you to that?”
“Grier was trained as an assistant, not as a practitioner, so your question is a valid one. Grier discovered Maud that night, and, in her grief, she granted Maud’s dying wish.” She gestured to the Low Society woman seated on her left, and the woman passed her a heart-shaped box with the heft of solid gold. “My niece was in shock when she performed the Culmination. You can imagine how traumatic that must have been for such a young girl, let alone one who had never witnessed the ceremony until she found herself duty-bound to complete Maud’s last rites.”
The woman inclined her head and sat. Or that’s how I interpreted the movement from the corner of my eye. I was unable to peel my gaze from the ornate box the Grande Dame held in her hands.
Pain jarred my kneecaps, the room shot upward like I was back on the elevator, and I descended into nothingness.
“Grier.”
Someone called my name, but there were so many faces, too many faces, all staring down at me as I knelt there unable to stand, barely able to lift my head.
Maud’s heart was in that box. Her heart.
Bile stung the back of my throat, and I clamped my teeth together to keep it down.
A gasp rose throughout the room when a man leapt from the second balcony, landing in a crouch. He gritted his teeth when he stood and limped as he crossed to me, but I had never been happier to see Boaz in my entire life. I curled against his broad chest and sobbed into his starched shirtfront while the Society glared daggers at my back.
“It appears my niece is overcome by her good fortune,” the Grande Dame announced. “You there,” she called down to Boaz. “Escort her to my chambers.”
“I got you, Squirt.” He exhaled sharply when he stood but ignored his pain long enough to haul me to my feet. “Lean on me. That’s it.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and tucked me against his side. “I’ll stay with you until they pry me off, okay?”
“Okay,” I murmured, hiding my face against his ribs.
“Mr. Volkov would like to accompany the heiress.”
The heiress.
Well, that was one mystery solved.
Feeling a hundred years old, I drew back enough to look into the eyes of one of Volkov’s guards. “No.”
That harsh syllable was all the fire I had left in me.
“You heard the lady.” Boaz shouldered past the guard and held me close while we shuffled down a long, dark hallway. “New boyfriend is pushy, huh?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Right now, I couldn’t imagine so much as accepting a ride home from him. “I’m not sure if he’s a friend period.”
We reached a doorway flanked by sentinels, and Boaz shouldered them aside as he had the vampire guards. Grande Dame Lawson waited for us in an oversized wooden chair positioned behind a blocky antique desk that dwarfed her. The eyesore belonged in a captain’s cabin on a pirate ship, not in the hallowed halls of the Lyceum. Again, a few rogue brain cells paused to wonder at the origin of these incongruous bits of our history while the others scattered at the sight of the box centered before her.
“Grier, you look peakish.” She indicated the single chair positioned across from her. “Sit.” She snapped her fingers at a man stationed near the door. “Bring the girl a drink.”
I melted into the chair on watery knees, and Boaz planted his hands on my shoulders to pin me upright.
“You look familiar.” Eyes sharp, she raked her gaze over Boaz. “What is your family name?”
“Pritchard, ma’am.” The dull, flat tone kept his anger well-hidden. “My mother is Matron Annabeth Pritchard.”
“Ah. The neighbors.” She reevaluated our closeness. “That explains it.”
A sentinel appeared at my elbow and pressed a glass of icy water into my hand. I mumbled thanks and sipped to give my mouth something to do besides form the scream tickling the back of my throat.
“Grier is in capable hands.” She flicked her wrist at the men in the room. “You may go.”
“I want him to stay,” I croaked.
Her lips mashed into a peevish line. “Are you quite certain?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you trustworthy, Pritchard?” Her eyes narrowed on his face. “Can you keep her secret?”
Mine? Dread ballooned in my chest, my breath hitching. The only secrets here were hers. Right?
“I’m loyal to Grier, ma’am.” He squeezed my shoulders. “I would never say or do anything to hurt her.”
The room cleared until only the three of us remained.
“We shall see, I suppose.” Leaning forward, she fixated on me while resting her forearms on the desktop, her fingers reaching out to strum against the box’s lid, which she had positioned on her blotter for all to see. “You must be curious about your change in circumstances.”
“I am.”
“I know how my sister died.”
That was all she said, all she had to say, and that put her one full step ahead of me.
All I knew was what I had been told, and I didn’t believe a word of the charges brought against me.
The truth, whatever I had witnessed with my own eyes, was lost to shock, to time and to the drugs.
“You would have rotted in that prison if not for me. I showed Balewa the error of her ways. I convinced her of your innocence.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop with her pretense. “I expect gratitude from you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you that broken?” The question appeared legitimate. “Have you lost your wits entirely?”
Boaz tensed behind me, and I forced myself to meet her stare rather than watch her tap, tap, tapping her manicured nails on the gilded lid of the wretched box she made sure to keep in my line of sight.
“Why did you have me pardoned?” I reached deep and found a scrap of backbone. “Why am I here?”
“An interesting thing happened last year.” She absorbed my shock that she’d kept tabs on me even in Atramentous without batting an eyelash. “An unsanctioned resuscitation, if you can believe it. Understandably, my contacts within the prison messaged me immediately.”
How anyone kept as magically impotent as the inmates in Atramentous managed to raise an undead was beyond me. Not to mention the key ingredient was missing. “There are no humans in Atramentous.”
“The diversity of your cellmates might surprise you.” The Grande Dame continued illuminating me. “Necromancers, vampires and fae, yes. But there are also humans who have discovered us, who have threatened us with exposure, who have betrayed their lovers or spouses or children for fame or glory or wealth.”
A chill settled into my bones that froze me to the spot.
“A new inmate, a vampire, suffered a bad reaction to his regimen and attacked a human in your group during your weekly exercise period.” She steepled her fingers in front of her mouth. “You resuscitated him, Grier, with nothing but your own blood, a hint of magic, and the crudest sigils. Though I doubt he thanks you for extending his sentence from thirty or forty years into three or four hundred, I am, nonetheless, impressed.”
“I didn’t…” I tossed my head. “I don’t remember…”
“I interviewed the witnesses myself. There can be no doubt. What’s more, he’s Deathless.” She studied me for my reaction. “Do you understand what that means?”
“I’ve never heard the term, no.”
“What you’ve created shouldn’t be possible. The Deathless are made vampires with the longevity of a Last Seed but without their fertility limitations. They are capable of reproduction, and their children…” She drew in a breath that shuddered with pleasure. “They are true immortals, though their grandchildren are rumored to be mortal.”
“You’re saying two entire castes of vampires exist that aren’t in any of our history books.” None of the ones passed down to lowly assistants at least. “How is that possible?”
“There are only two documented cases of Deathless vampires rising. Any other records were destroyed when our Great Library burned in the 1300s. Surviving tomes are the private property of the Lyceum. Their care—and location—have been entrusted to the Elite, sentinels who are beyond reproach. They operate outside the laws of the Society to safeguard our history from those who might seek to alter it.”
A secret history. My history. “Can I see them?”
“That’s not possible.” Her attempt at sympathy fell as flat as her tone. “They’re stored in a climate-controlled facility somewhere outside the city. That’s all I know, all any of us are allowed to know. The books come to us. We do not go to the books.”
“What else can you tell me about the Deathless?”
“Only that five instances of them reproducing exists, along with eight examples of their mortal grandchildren. The bulk of the research on them has been lost.” A thoughtful expression crossed her features. “That is why I’m considering pardoning your progeny in exchange for his full cooperation in our study of the Deathless condition.”
Progeny. I had progeny, a man I didn’t remember and doubted I would ever see again.
“What about me?” Thankful I wasn’t alone, I reached up and covered one of Boaz’s hands with mine. “How is this possible?”
“How much do you remember about your birth parents?” She prodded the old wound with careless fingers. “We believe the trait is passed through the paternal lineage.”
“I remember small things about my mom, but there was only ever the two of us.”
“You have no idea who your father is?”
“I was so young, and we were happy. Just the two of us.” I shook my head. “The few times I asked if I had a father, usually after a playmate brought it up, she distracted me with ice cream.” Slowly, my eyes drifted back to the box. “I asked Maud, but she swore Mom had never told her. Her answer was always the same. That if he wasn’t in my life, there was a good reason. That I should trust my mother’s judgment.”
“That is unfortunate.” The Grande Dame digested this bit of news with a frown. “All I can tell you at this time is that your condition is rare. The surviving texts all refer to the afflicted necromancers as being goddess-touched, favored by the three-faced goddess.”
The urge to laugh tensed my shoulders at the thought of all those nights I prayed to Hecate when she answered with silence.
“This unexpected ability saved your life.” She gave me a moment to absorb the subtle threat. “I have done you a great favor in restoring you to your former station. The announcement was made prior to this conversation as a show of trust. You must understand what this means.”
“You want me to make more of them.” But not too many. There was no prestige in being common.
“Don’t sound so glum. You were heartbroken when Maud declared you were only fit to work as an apprentice. Well, this is your chance to be a full-fledged practitioner with a specialization no one else can claim. Wealth and fame are yours for the taking.” She made a grasping gesture that ended with her fisted hand. “What more could you want?”
The truth for starters. “Did Maud know?”
“Without access to her library, we can’t be certain.” Her gaze unfocused as she stared at the macabre box. “She loved your mother very much. They were inseparable until Evangeline’s family returned to France around her two hundred and thirtieth birthday. They kept in touch during the separation, but I didn’t see Evangeline again until she showed up on Maud’s doorstep after a dinner party with a child in tow. How much Evangeline confided in her, I can’t say. I was the annoying younger sister and not welcome in their club of two.
“My sister was one of the most celebrated minds of our time. Even if Evangeline kept the truth from her, she must have known that once Maud took over your education, she would understand immediately that your magic worked in impossible ways. Perhaps that is why your mother turned to her old friend after an absence of so many years. Perhaps Maud robbed you of your rightful status and kept your education lacking in order to protect you. We may never know those answers with any degree of certainty.”
Keet.
The first and only test Maud ever administered that required me to mix my own ink, using my own blood, and she’d let me believe I failed. She’d lied to me. One of the most powerful necromancers in existence had told me I was less, and I had believed her. Keeping me ignorant might have seemed like the ideal solution to her, but I was coming to the rapid understanding that only I could protect myself, and I had no idea how.
Exhaustion swept through me. All the fretting and waiting and pageantry had burned me out for the night. I wanted to go home. I wanted this to be yet another nightmare. At least I woke up from those. This—this new reality terrified me.
No wonder Volkov wanted me. Every clan would petition me to resuscitate their candidates. An alliance with me meant he would have a say in who was turned and in naming the price of their immortality. Here I thought my restored title and fortune might be factors, but I had sorely underestimated the scope of his master’s ambition.
“I’m tired.” I rubbed my forehead. “Can I sleep on this?”
“Of course, dear girl. I imagine this must all come as a shock.” She pressed a button on her desk, and the door to her right swung open. The sentinel who entered did so carrying Keet in a small cage. The Grande Dame gestured to him. “I believe this belongs to you.”
“Keet?” Boaz growled over my shoulder. “Why does she have your bird?”
“Insurance” was all I said, and I knew he understood when he stiffened behind me.
“When did this happen?” Boaz rounded on me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I pinched my lips together. Fiddlesticks. I’d forgotten I hadn’t caught him or Amelie up on the break-in.
Filling him in now, after the fact, did nothing to improve his mood.
“How can I protect you if you keep secrets from me?” His hands closed over my arms, and he lifted me from my chair. He was halfway to shaking me when the fury glazing his eyes cleared enough for him to recall our surroundings, the company we kept, and he lowered his voice. “You should have told me. I never would have let you—”
I lowered mine too as I extricated myself from his hold. “Exactly.”
Ignoring the hulking man vibrating with rage at my elbow, the sentinel crossed to me and extended the cage. Keet, rustling his feathers at the movement, chirruped at me in happy recognition.
“Hey, fella.” Vision blurring, I reached through the bars and scratched his head with my fingertip. “I missed you too.”
“One more thing before you go,” the Grande Dame called, circling her desk until she stood before me. “She would want you to have this.” Boaz relieved me of the cage as she pressed the cold metal box into my hands. “She would want to return home.”
The moisture evaporated from my tongue as my fingers closed over the terrible burden. “Thank you.”
“We don’t have to be enemies, Grier.” She cupped my cheek in her palm. “I’ve made mistakes with you, and I’m sorry for that.”
I locked my knees to keep from recoiling at her touch.
“Family sticks together.” She kissed my forehead. “It’s how we survive.”
The cold weight of Maud’s remains anchored me to the floor. Only the warmth of Boaz at my side thawed me enough that I could turn my back on her. The Grande Dame ordered the office doors opened, and we started our long walk down the dark hall leading back to the amphitheater.
“I’m sorry,” Boaz murmured. “I was pissed you didn’t mention the wraith. Woolly was attacked, and you didn’t tell me. Your aunt kidnapped your goddamn zombie, for Pete’s sake. You love that stupid bird.”
We reached the elevators, and I stopped. “Look, it happened the night you found out about the draft. I wanted to tell you and Amelie, but I didn’t want to make things even worse, and there was nothing you could do about it anyway.”
How to Save an Undead Life (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 1) Page 13
