“He’s cute.” I sipped from my glass, the wine too smoky for me to determine if there was more to its taste than toasted oak barrels. “I wouldn’t mind having some company, you know?”
A flicker of pity crossed her delicate features. “I’ll have to clear it with Mr. Volkov, you understand, but he would do anything for you.”
Except let me go. “Thank you.”
“Of course, miss.”
“Lena?” I infused my voice with equal parts curiosity and eagerness. “When will I meet the master?”
“I can’t rightly say,” she admitted. “He’s a busy male.”
Too busy to check in on his captive? He must be very busy indeed. Or, just maybe, he wasn’t here.
That would explain why no one had done anything with me up to now.
While I mulled over what they wanted from me and why they hadn’t tried hard to get it yet, I forced down my meal. I skimmed my gaze over the patio, searching for weapons or means of escape or inspiration. All I found was a single, perfect clamshell pressed into the otherwise immaculate expanse of concrete that left me wondering who this room’s original occupant might have been.
The colors and the shell reminded me of Odette and her seaside bungalow.
Then again, considering the bizarre pinkscape in my previous accommodations, maybe each room in this estate was themed.
Lena changed my sheets and set out clean pajamas, humming a song so familiar I could have joined in the chorus. I almost asked what it was but figured she was as likely to give me a straight answer as she was to turn into a bat and fly across the moon.
I hadn’t showered in almost a week, not that you could tell from my softly waving hair and moisturized skin. I was ninety-nine percent certain that I received daily sponge baths, a humiliation I was grateful to sleep through.
Finished with the main course, I dug into the chocolate mousse. The first bite dissolved on my tongue. Past that, I couldn’t feel my tongue…or much else. The world spun faster when I turned my head toward Lena, but she caught me as I toppled from my chair and carried me back to the bed.
Hours later, I woke to find the hideous rabbit tucked in next to me like we were old pals.
Sleep pressed on me, a cool weight that suffocated, and my eyelids fluttered.
No.
Atramentous had taken years to rob me of my spirit. I wasn’t caving again in under a week. I wasn’t caving again ever.
Worried about noise carrying to my guards, I removed one of my fuzzy socks and tugged it down over the rabbit’s head. Smashing his face against the edge of the wooden headboard was oddly satisfying. I peeled down the top and reached inside, choosing the sharpest, thickest piece of porcelain.
There were only so many places I could hide it where it might not be found. Not on me. My person wasn’t sacred here. The sheets were out too. Those got changed each time I left the bed. The one constant was the French doors remained open at all times. One shard could go unnoticed out there.
Lethargy weighted my limbs as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I tried standing but crumpled. The best I could do was hold the shard between my teeth, lips peeled back to keep from cutting myself, as I crawled on all fours into the yard.
While I debated where to bury my treasure, I noticed that same perfect seashell pressed into the concrete along the farthest edge. Careful not to bark my knees or palms, I inched forward until I could shove the pointed end into the dirt, leaving me a shallow edge to grasp when it came time to retrieve my new best friend.
Getting back in bed took forever, and I was drenched in sweat when my head hit the pillow, but sleep came between one blink and the next.
Lena was arranging my breakfast out on the patio when I woke the next night with the rabbit curled against my side like I’d been snuggling him. I’d built up the sheet between us so I wouldn’t get cut, but now it was time to get the creeper tossed out on his cotton tail.
Once the maid turned her back, I leaned over the edge of the bed and dumped the contents of my sock on the floor. The next phase of my plan was going to suck. Gritting my teeth in anticipation of the pain, I pulled the splinter-filled sock back on my foot, wincing as the fragments pierced my sole, and sat upright. With no small amount of glee, I dropped the rabbit, and the remainder of his face shattered on the planks.
“Oh no.” Blood dripped from the end of one sock, so all I had to do was make a footprint to show how I’d gotten injured. “Lena, can you—?”
But Lena, being a vampire, smelled the blood and rushed to me before I finished the sentence.
“Miss, what happened?” Her small chest rose in eager pants, breathing in the coppery scent. “Your poor foot. Wait right there.”
Docile as a lamb, I did as I was told while attempting to look sad about the bunny’s untimely death.
A short woman dressed in pressed khakis and a cable-knit sweater rushed into my suite, took one whiff, and her fangs punched out of her gums.
“Blath it all,” she lisped. “I do apologize, mith. I’m newly turned.”
I wriggled farther onto the mattress. “Should you be in here?”
“I’m in complete control,” she assured me. “Except for these. They theem to have a mind of their own.”
“Here, ma’am.” Lena passed her an opaque glass. “This will help.”
The woman drained the contents, which stained her upper lip crimson, before passing it back and flashing a fangless smile. “Thank you, Lena.”
“Dr. Heath will be your personal physician going forward,” Lena explained. “Isn’t that lovely?”
“You had a doctor made for me?” I was only half-kidding.
Undead general practitioners weren’t exactly rare, but they weren’t terribly common either. Plenty of physicians had the funds to be converted, but few practiced in their afterlife. Most lacked the restraint. The few who possessed the ironclad self-control required ended up blood sworn to a clan for the whole of their afterlife, their sole job tending its human members.
“Not hardly.” Dr. Heath chuckled. “I already paid my dues, thank you very much. I spent every dime of my husband’s life insurance policy on making sure I didn’t join him.”
What could I say to that? “That’s…nice.”
“Let’s have a look at that foot.” She rolled the sock down and passed it to Lena, who fetched a trash bin to toss it in. “We’ll have to clean this for me to find the slivers. I need a bowl of warm water.” She made a circular gesture with her hands. “Large enough she can soak her whole foot.”
“I’m sure there must be something.” Lena strode to the bathroom with purpose. “Give me a moment.”
“Sure thing.” Dr. Heath watched her go before inclining her head and murmuring under her breath, “Stay strong, Squirt.”
Certain I must be imagining things, I stared down at the top of her dark head. “What did you—?”
“Here you are.” Lena placed the requested bowl on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Hold tight to me, miss.” She gathered me in her arms. “Let’s move you down here so I can get cleaning.”
Desperate for another moment alone with the doctor, I grasped at straws. “Can we do this outside?”
“Not enough light, I’m afraid.” Dr. Heath cut me a significant look. “This will have to do.”
Had I imagined what she said? Was my mind playing tricks on me? How could I ask for confirmation without making it obvious? If I had imagined her cryptic remarks, then I couldn’t risk inflaming Volkov’s paranoia. And if I hadn’t, then I couldn’t risk Dr. Heath being captured and interrogated.
The warm water stung my cuts as Lena guided my foot into the bowl. The two women stood there staring like it might pop off the end of my leg and bolt for the door if not for their laser focus.
“This is going to sting.” Dr. Heath put Lena to work holding a penlight while she picked out each tiny sliver. “These are all shallow. You won’t need stitches. You’re lucky this isn’t much worse.”
&nbs
p; “It was an accident,” I lied smoothly. “I forgot about the rabbit and knocked it off when I threw back the covers.”
“I’m going to recommend you soak this foot nightly.” She glanced at Lena. “Just give her extra time in the tub. That will be fine.”
“Miss hasn’t been well enough for the tub.” She cast me an apologetic look. “I’ll have a larger bowl brought up and—”
“Would you like to bathe?” Dr. Heath asked me point-blank. “Trust me. I have a healthy appreciation for sponge baths, they’re a staple for patients with impaired mobility, but I see no reason why you can’t start working on your endurance.” She must have read my confusion. “I understand you’ve been unwell recently.”
“Yes.” The crimson swirls in the water drew my eye. “I suppose I have.” I flicked my toe in the center of one, disturbing its curve. “A bath would be nice.”
Waking secure in the knowledge I hadn’t been manhandled while I slept would be even better.
“Good.” She grinned while Lena worried her bottom lip with her fang. “That’s settled.” The doctor rose and wiped her hands clean. “Your foot will be tender for a couple of days, but you’re fine to walk as much as you want.”
“Thank you.” I curled my fingers into my hand to keep from reaching for her. “Dr. Heath—?”
“The gardeners are planting out front,” she announced over me. “Perhaps you’d like to visit them for a while since you enjoy spending time outdoors? A change of scenery would do you good.”
“I would love that,” I breathed, too excited by half.
“Miss isn’t allowed outside the manor.” Lena edged between us. “The master has forbidden her to leave her suite for her own safety.”
“These are dangerous times,” she agreed with Lena while staring over her shoulder at me. “Still, if you ever get the chance, you should visit the front gardens. The rose beds are lovely this time of year.”
Our gazes held for a long moment, until I nodded that I understood, even if I wasn’t certain that I did, that I could trust what I was hearing and seeing was real and not a hallucination tormenting me.
“Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Heath.” Lena shifted to block the doctor’s view of me. “Forgive my impertinence, but you ought not plant ideas in her head. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave so she can recover from her ordeal.”
The tremble in Lena’s voice piqued my curiosity. All the doctor had done was agree with her that danger to me existed, hilarious when you considered they were currently the biggest threat. Her comment about the gardens was even more benign. How had either of those offended?
“I’ll be right back, miss.” Lena glanced back at me. “We’ll get you fed and maybe have a walk.”
A bitter laugh rose up my throat, and I climbed back in bed, the one place I could go and be left alone while I turned over the doctor’s visit in my mind.
Feed me, water me, walk me like the pampered pet I am. Who held my leash? Who was my master?
How did I gain access to that front garden? And what—or who—awaited me there?
“Are the rumors true then?” Footsteps announced Dr. Heath’s retreat. “Has the Society launched an inquiry?”
“You’ll have to speak with Mr. Volkov about that, ma’am.” Lena hustled after her, the soles of her shoes a soft hush of sound. “It’s not my place to speculate, and you’d do well to follow my example.”
The door opened and then closed behind them. Lena would return with a fresh breakfast tray eventually, but for now… An inquiry. With six little words, the good doctor had given me a surefire cure for what ailed me.
She had given me hope.
Sixteen
Lena must have tattled on Dr. Heath. That’s all I could figure when nights passed without a follow-up visit from her or any other doctor. I put each one to good use. I picked the scabs on the worst of the cuts to keep the scent of fresh blood in my room. Dangerous, yes, but also necessary for what came next. Lena, who was now in charge of bandaging my foot, had grown as numb to the scent as a cakeaholic who worked in a bakery.
When the night finally came that she didn’t shake out my clothes after drawing me a bath or smooth her hands across the mattress in search of rogue pieces of porcelain, I set the second phase of my plan into action.
I went through the motions, a perfect robot, and climbed into bed before dawn with a fresh bandage on my foot.
Hours later, when the house had fallen quiet as its occupants drifted off to sleep, I climbed off the mattress, hit my knees, and crawled out to the patio. I found the shard by feel and almost cried with relief that it hadn’t been discovered.
I plopped down in the grass and brought the shard up to my hair. I sawed off a three-inch hank then tapped the cut ends on the concrete like I was straightening a stack of papers. Once I had an even, blunt edge, I wrapped my used bandage longways to make a sad excuse for a handle. I regarded my makeshift brush with a critical eye. It would have to do. I might only have this one chance. I had to make the most of it.
I picked my tender foot until blood flowed, dipped my brush, and painted a delicate sigil for healing onto my stomach. A prickling sensation spread from my gut out into my limbs, proof the magic was working. That one minor rebellion was all I dared for now. Twisting my hair up into a bun, I hid the jagged edges then threaded the flexible brush into the center. After replacing the shard in the dirt, I crawled back into bed.
I hadn’t prayed to Hecate since Maud died, but my lips formed her name as sleep tugged me under.
At dusk, I choked awake on a scream that brought Lena running. Dressed in polka dot pajamas, her hair swinging in a braid down her back, she skidded into my room followed by two snarly guards.
The males began a thorough search of the room while she fussed over me.
“Miss?” Lena dashed to my side, her wide eyes raking over me. “What’s wrong?”
Sweat plastered my nightgown to my chest, so I hiked the covers up to my chin. The nightmare had slipped through the cracks and dragged me thrashing into awareness, a sign I was truly waking up from the drugged haze.
“A spider,” I croaked. “It was…dangling…” I swiped my fingers through the air, “…in my face.”
One guard snorted while the other shook his head.
“It must have come in from outside.” Her weight shifted like she might stand. “I can shut the doors if you’d like.”
“No,” I rushed out. “Thank you. I’m fine. It just surprised me.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” A crease formed on her brow. “You look a tad damp. Are you hot?”
“Yes.” I grabbed hold of that excuse with both hands. “That must be what woke me.”
Lena peeled the comforter down to the foot of the bed. “Do you want to sit up for a while or—?”
“I’m pretty tired.” I faked a yawn and snuggled into my pillow. “See you at breakfast.”
Catching my yawn, she covered her mouth. “See you then.” Her eyes popped open wide. “Oh. I almost forgot. I have some wonderful news for you.”
“Oh?” So far, I hadn’t been allowed news of any kind. This didn’t bode well.
“Perhaps I ought to wait until breakfast. I don’t want to ruin your rest with too much excitement.”
“I’m a sound sleeper,” I assured her. They’d made certain of that.
“The master returns tomorrow night.” She gripped my hand and squeezed. “He’ll be so proud of how well you’ve adjusted in his absence.”
“Tomorrow night?” That didn’t leave much time.
“Don’t fret, miss. After breakfast, I’ll bring down clothes from your old room. We’ll find you something to wear that’s sure to please him. We want you to look your best when you’re presented.”
I lived in pajamas these days. How odd would it be to wear real pants? And shoes? “Presented?”
“All new clan members must be presented to the master and his council.”
I bit the inside of my che
ek to keep from snapping at her that I was a necromancer, an heiress, and the last Woolworth. Whoever this master was, he couldn’t absorb me into his clan without the Grande Dame’s permission to dissolve my house, and he could hold his breath until his face turned blue waiting on that. Strained as our relationship might be, the Grande Dame would never consent to erasing her sister’s legacy. Not to mention she would never place such a rare and valuable commodity as my blood in the hands of vampires.
“Oh, miss, you must be so thrilled.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Ariana, she’s the upstairs maid, confided that last week, when she tidied Mr. Volkov’s bedroom, she spotted a black velvet box on his nightstand.”
Gooseflesh pebbled my arms. “Really?”
“Oh, yes. How romantic.” Eyes closing in bliss, she almost swooned. “I bet the master asked Mr. Volkov to wait, but now that he’s coming home, things will move faster. Mark my words.”
“I’m not sure how I’ll sleep after hearing all this,” I teased while telling the absolute truth.
“I should have waited until breakfast. I meant to, honest, but you’ve had so many questions. I thought you would rest better knowing they’ll all soon be answered.”
“Thanks…” I bobbed my chin, pretending my head was too heavy for my neck, “…Lena.”
As far as she knew, I was still drugged to the gills. She must think I was paddling as hard as I could to remain conscious. Wouldn’t want to miss any other big announcements. Faking the slide into oblivion required zero effort on my part considering I’d had so much practice. My lashes fluttered, my lids drooped, and my lips parted on a restful exhale.
Lena fell for it hook, line and sinker. She ushered the guards out into the hall, and the door shut with a quiet click behind them.
Alone in my room, I stared up at the ceiling. I gave the guards a good half hour to forget all about little ol’ me and settle into their routine. I had no idea where Lena slept, but judging by the fact she had responded first—and in her pajamas—I was guessing her room was next door to mine.
How to Save an Undead Life (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 1) Page 18
