How to Rattle an Undead Couple (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 9)

by Hailey Edwards

“I do.” He beamed then released him. “I’m trying to ease the sting here.”

  Worry lanced through him that Grier might have noticed his confliction too. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Eva idolizes you, and you’re Kaleigh’s favorite barf rag.” He leaned against the desk. “They’re your only experience with kids, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then there you go.” He smiled again, softer this time. “You prefer logic and order. You were hoping for the known versus the unknown. In your shoes, I would have felt the same.” He rubbed his jaw. “There are Society expectations too. Girls inherit the title, the money, the family holdings.”

  Only rich and influential families could afford to let their sons inherit. Their boy was secure in his place in the world, regardless of whether they had a daughter later or not. And that had been the point Hood was making.

  “Thank you,” he told his friend. “Ours is a dangerous world, and children aren’t spared from it.”

  “Believe me.” Hood set his jaw. “I’m aware.”

  Eva’s accelerated growth rate had made her a pariah in some circles. There were those in the pack who shunned her, even with her mother as the alpha.

  “Oscar will be thrilled,” Linus said to distract Hood from his worries for Eva. “We’ll have to build a new range, maybe expand the obstacle course, once our son is old enough to appreciate the finer points of settling his differences with foam darts.”

  “The old one was getting stale anyway.” He chuckled. “That reminds me— Where is Corbin?”

  Corbin Theroux was a Deathless vampire. As Grier’s only progeny, he was welcome at Woolworth House any time he visited Savannah. A sentinel by trade, he was often deployed on high-risk missions due to his unparalleled healing abilities giving him a slightly inaccurate reputation for indestructability.

  He was also Oscar’s honorary big brother and responsible for introducing them all to the world of pump-action foam dart guns.

  “We sent him an invitation via Boaz a month ago. We assumed he would have better contacts to get it where it needed to go.” Linus cast another glance at the door. “He didn’t RSVP, and he’s not here tonight, but he’s got time.”

  The party for family and friends wasn’t until next week, but Corbin often made use of his room when he was in town to recharge between missions. Usually, he would have reached out to confirm by now.

  “Pity.” Hood’s lips pulled to one side. “I planned on having a chat with him.”

  “Oh?”

  “Did Lethe tell you she found a picture of a boy in Eva’s room?” He gave up on trying to hide a full-on grimace. “It was Corbin.”

  “He’s not a boy,” Linus pointed out. “He died in his early twenties.”

  “That makes it worse.” Hood exhaled through his nose. “He won’t age, and he won’t change. That’s appealing to a girl who’s in a constant state of flux.”

  “I see.” Linus raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll talk to him, let him know to be gentle with Eva.”

  “I would appreciate it.” Hood held up his hands. “I like Corbin, I do, but finding out my little diva has a crush on him makes me want to disembowel him.”

  “Grier would take exception to that,” Linus warned him. “I would recommend you restrain those urges.”

  The vampire was a member of their family, the same as Hood, and she wouldn’t tolerate infighting.

  “Children form attachments all the time.” Linus attempted to comfort him. “They usually don’t last.”

  Staring him down, Hood made it plain that argument didn’t hold water. “Except when they do.”

  Heat prickled on Linus’s nape, but he kept it from rising into his face. He had loved Grier for a long time before she reciprocated, and she had nursed a crush of her own for most of her life. Not often, but sometimes, the fascination held, deepened, and blossomed into that elusive more.

  “Point taken.” Linus cleared his throat. “Are you available to help us with a problem after the party?”

  “That nap everyone keeps talking about sounds good right about now, but I guess I can stay conscious for a while longer. What’s up?”

  The door opened before Linus could answer, and Lethe strolled in, cocked her hip, then locked her arms over her chest.

  “I’m all for male bonding, but this is kind of a big deal for Grier,” she growled, “and you’re both ditching her?”

  “I needed a moment,” Linus said, apology in his voice. “I’ll explain later.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the driver sweating bullets in the kitchen,” she asked, “would it?”

  “We can’t talk now.” Linus shook his head. “Thirty minutes, and Neely will clear out the house. Grier and I will tell you what we know then.”

  “Okay.” She studied his face. “You need an excuse for vanishing, though.” She rustled through the drawers and pulled out a box she shouldn’t have known where to find. “Here.” She handed it to him. “You were probably waiting for the family party to give this to her, but oh well. If we’re doing the stiff-upper-lip thing, then you need to make sure no one wonders what was more important to you than your wife’s baby shower.”

  The words caused him to flinch. “Does Grier…?”

  “Grier would forgive you if you ate every crumb of the leftover cake.” Lethe patted his arm. “She’s upset, but this makes me think you’re not the problem.” She narrowed her eyes. “Keep it that way.”

  With that, she exited the room and returned to Grier’s side, where he ought to be. He had become too comfortable in his skin, in his life. He had let himself grow used to keeping his masks locked away and allowing those closest to him to see him for who and what he was, inside and out. But this was not the time for openness or transparency, and so he fitted the mask of Scion Woolworth, the title soon to belong to their child, on his face then rejoined the party.

  “It’s both creepy and impressive how you do that,” Hood murmured behind him. “I wish I had that skill.”

  “I’m glad you never had to cultivate it.” Linus kept his tone even, his expression bland. “There are things I envy about gwyllgi and warg culture, and your ability to air your grievances rather than subvert them tops the list.”

  “There are things I would change about our people,” Hood confessed, “but that’s not one of them. I prefer to meet anger and fear head-on. I can be a patient hunter, but I’ve found the judicious application of teeth solves a great many more problems than conversation.”

  As he wound through the crowd toward Grier, Linus huffed a laugh under his breath. “There is that.”

  Radiant as the full moon, Grier held court over her fawning admirers. The photos would be stunning, and he doubted anyone noticed the faint strain bracketing her mouth or the slight darkness to her eyes. As much as he regretted his mother’s interference at times, he was grateful to have this occasion caught on film so they could reflect on it during happier times.

  “I’m getting hand cramps from unwrapping.” Grier smiled up at him. “Want to take over for a while?”

  “Happy to help.” He knelt in front of her. “After you open this one last present.”

  “This is the gift Neely mentioned?”

  “No.” Linus set the small box on her knee. “This is from me.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but he ignored them because she hated how easily she cried lately.

  “You’ve already given me the best gift.” Leaning forward, she slid her smooth, warm cheek against his as she whispered in his ear. “It’s you, in case I wasn’t clear.” She withdrew. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  The hard knot of emotion in his throat made speaking difficult, so he kissed her gently in thanks.

  “Open it,” he rasped, tapping the bow on top of the silvery paper. “Then decide.”

  After ripping through the box, she sucked in a breath when she opened the lid. “No way.”

  “Yes way.” He tucked a stray
lock of hair behind her ear. “I hope you like it.”

  “When can I see it?” She scooped up the key and clutched it to her chest. “When? When? When?”

  “This will have to suffice for now.” He passed her his phone. “I couldn’t risk keeping it here. You would have ferreted it out. The dealership will deliver it tomorrow. That’s where I went earlier. I had to finalize the paperwork.”

  Her mouth fell open as she flipped through the pictures of the Harley-Davidson CVO Tri Glide he had bought her. The onyx finish would make it all but invisible in the dark, helped by a few sigils he had inlaid into the blacked-out chrome, and the crimson pinstripe was a nod to the Society to whom she had sworn her oath to protect Savannah.

  “Heated leather driver and passenger seat,” she squealed. “Does this mean you’ll ride with me?”

  “Whenever you wish,” he promised, grateful to have his mask firmly in place.

  The gentle touch of her hand on his cheek told him she wasn’t fooled. “You hate bikes.”

  “You love them,” he said simply, “and I love you.” He kissed her palm. “I want you to be happy.”

  The minivan she had been driving was practical in many ways, and she did love the hulking beast, but she gave so much of herself to her work. Every so often, he found her gazing toward the garage, toward Jolene, even before the extra safety precautions of the last nine months had made her stir-crazy.

  The Tri Glide was a trike, not a standard motorcycle. Three wheels instead of two. Perhaps not as sexy as Jolene, but the extra space between the rear wheels gave her storage for her kit on the go. A call home could have Moby en route. Linus was happy to play chauffeur when required if this put a smile on her face.

  “That cinches it.” She shook her head. “You’re perfect.” She gazed up at him. “How did I get so lucky?”

  Linus, who had been immune to the tears and crying jags thus far, felt his throat close again. “I often wonder the same thing.”

  Invitation on her lips, she curled her finger, and he was helpless but to lean in. “Escort me to the bathroom, husband dear?”

  “Of course.” He helped her up and led her down the hall. “I’ll wait here.”

  “I’m going to kick your butt,” she promised, her true reason for wanting privacy revealed, “as soon as I’m able to lift my leg high enough.”

  Rearing back, he studied her. “Why?”

  “I warned you never to doubt your awesomeness, and it sounds like you’re struggling with the concept.”

  “I don’t understand.” He canted his head to one side. “You just asked—”

  “I’m allowed to be insecure. I’m pregnant. I’m a literal ball of insecurity.”

  “I will submit to whatever punishment you deem fitting,” he vowed, “and I will endeavor to do better.”

  “It’s hard,” she said softly, for him alone, “to believe in yourself.” She cupped his cheek. “I’m happy to keep doing it for you until you get the hang of it.”

  After the door closed behind her, Linus rubbed his thumb over the knob, a silly curve bending his lips.

  When she emerged, he guided her back to her throne and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

  “What was in the box?” Lethe called. “I couldn’t see past the tender moment you were sharing.”

  Snorting under her breath, Grier held up the key. “Linus bought me a new bike.”

  “Oh, really?” Neely sailed in from the next room. “Then you might need this early too.”

  With a flourish, he dropped a hefty box on her lap then stood back with a stoic Cruz to watch.

  “Oh, hello.” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “I smell new leather.”

  “Told you she was part gwyllgi,” Hood murmured to Lethe. “Fresh cow gets her every time.”

  “Hood,” Lethe snapped. “Do not say cow in a room where a pregnant woman might hear you.”

  “You’re both so stealthy,” Grier said dryly, “I’m sure no pregnant women will hear or take offense.”

  “Open it.” Neely clapped. “I’ve been waiting for months.”

  Proving she had stamina remaining, Grier ripped into the wrapping and threw aside the box’s lid.

  “Oh. My. Goddess.” She lifted out a new black leather jacket with protective sigils stamped into the leather. The intricate details created an overall design as unique as Grier. “This is…” Her mouth worked. “It’s…” Her eyes filled. “Perfect.”

  “It’s also spelled to fit the wearer,” Cruz added from behind his husband. “It will fit you now, and it will fit you after the baby is born.” He took Neely’s hand and held it tight, like that support was all that kept him talking. “No woman should feel her top priority after childbirth is weight loss.”

  “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” More tears threatened. “Thank you.”

  “Mom struggled with low self-esteem after I was born.” He cleared his throat. “She was on and off diets, so many I can’t remember them all, which meant I was too. She grew as obsessed with my weight as she was with her own, pushed me to exercise and count calories from the time I could add and subtract.”

  “And then he went and married an accountant,” Neely teased him, but Cruz’s face had gone blank.

  “Oh, Cruz.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Cruz said softly. “She would have relearned how to love herself, but my father…”

  “It’s all right,” Neely murmured, petting Cruz’s chest. “You don’t have to say another word.”

  The couple had practiced for this moment, he realized, and it symbolized both their earnest offer of help for Grier, should she need help battling postpartum depression, or other personal demons, and the lancing of an old wound for Cruz. For such a private man, the words had cost him, but they hadn’t diminished his glow, a lightness usually absent in him.

  “Thank you for trusting us with this,” Grier said gently. “I’ll take what you’ve said to heart.”

  With a tight nod, Cruz let Neely guide him into a corner for a lingering embrace.

  “Okay, folks. Listen up, please.” Lethe clapped her hands. “It’s been a great party, you’ve been a great crowd, but Momma is pooped. The door is that way. You can see yourselves out.”

  Rearing back, Neely slapped a hand over his eyes then dragged it down to his chin. “Oh, sweet Lord.”

  “This way, ladies.” Cruz stepped into the breach, and Neely looked ready to marry him all over again from sheer gratitude. “Thank you all for coming.”

  “That’s what I said,” Lethe protested to Hood. “You heard me, right?”

  “Yes, dear.” He kissed her temple. “I heard you loud and clear.” He chuckled. “We all did.”

  As alpha, Lethe was used to barking orders and having them obeyed. Social niceties, Society pleasantries in general, stumped her. She had no patience for them. Linus could sympathize. He was a patient man, and the ceremony of it grated on him at times. Particularly when he had less frivolous things on his mind.

  Mother, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

  The woman was a polarizing figure for certain, but she had led the Society through its recent tribulations with an iron fist. This attack on her, at her home, was not one he had anticipated given that success.

  Forcing himself to focus on the moment, he returned his attention to Grier.

  For the most part, she did an admirable job of hiding her snickers behind breathing in her expensive new gear. He wasn’t fooled by the fresh tears rolling down her face. These were from laughter. Maud had raised her to thumb her nose at the trappings of the High Society lifestyle, and she had embraced those early lessons with gusto.

  With her title of Dame Woolworth, she had no choice but to play the role of Society darling at formal events. But when she was on her own time, or on the clock as potentate, she shucked all the formalities and ceremony in favor of downhome manners and Southern charm.

  Linus admired her for it, wished he could em
ulate it, but he was a product of his raising too. He was stiff as starched linen, and he knew it. Grier humanized him. Unbent him. Wrinkled him. And he never felt more himself than when she gave him permission to be just that. If he never cracked another smile, she would still love him, and that…humbled him.

  Once the room cleared of everyone but family and the driver, Woolly shut all the doors and windows and reactivated her strongest wards.

  “All right.” Lethe glanced between him and Grier. “Who wants to fess up?”

  “Mother is missing,” Linus said, removing the mask that had kept him steady all evening. “We can’t afford to involve the sentinels, not even the Elite, at this juncture. I’m asking for volunteers to help us locate her.”

  “I don’t know how much help we’ll be,” Neely started, “but Cruz and I will do whatever we can.”

  An indulgent smile from Cruz confirmed he would do whatever it took to keep Neely’s faith in him.

  “Whatever you need.” Lethe shared a predatory glance with her mate. “We’ve got your backs.”

  “Nothing leaves this room.” Hood singled out the driver. “Understood?”

  The driver paled, swallowed audibly, and nodded quick agreement.

  “He’s been with Mother for decades,” Linus said, pardoning him. “Her maid has too.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can afford not to look at them,” Grier said softly. “We have to be certain.”

  “Oh.” Neely snapped his fingers. “You can do that truth thingie on him, right?”

  “I can.” She glanced at Marco. “Do you consent?”

  Consent wasn’t required, but she preferred it. Permission kept her on the right side of a line she had drawn for herself, one she hated crossing when left with no other choice.

  “I do, ma’am.” He crossed to Grier. “Whatever is required to find Madam, I give hearty consent.”

  “All right.” She reached into her dress pocket and removed the pocketknife she had stolen from Linus years ago. Several wrapped peppermints left over from her morning sickness phase tumbled out with it. “Let’s mark our first suspect off the list, shall we?”

  The sight of Grier cutting herself for blood to use as ink in her workings was old hat by now, an accepted part of necromantic life, but that didn’t stop Linus from wishing he could bleed for her, hurt for her.