How to Live an Undead Lie (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 5)
Page 5
“I appreciate the heads-up.” I propped my legs under me. “I’ll go take a look around at dusk.”
“Let me know what you find?” The hope in her expression gutted me. “I’m worried about her too.”
“I’ll give you an update when I have one.” I started for the door, intending to walk right through without saying goodbye, but guilt cramped my belly. “I hope this won’t cause problems between you and Boaz.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped her. “There’s not much else to do in here.”
The taste of old pennies flooded my mouth as I bit my tongue to keep from pointing out she wouldn’t be exiled to social Siberia if I could trust her.
“I have a chance to reinvent myself.” She dragged her gaze to mine. “I made a list of traits I think a good person should have.” Her smile went limp and sagged on her mouth. “Honesty was at the top.” She unlinked her hands, and they trembled. “This is my first step on the path to a new me.”
A new me.
Soon she would cease to exist as Amelie Pritchard—no, that version of her had already been erased. She was Amelie Madison now. The reminder left me with a ringing in my ears. She stood in front of me, an arm’s length away, but I couldn’t have crossed the yawning abyss stretching between us if I had wings.
“It’s dangerous wanting to be someone other than yourself,” was all the advice that popped into mind.
Amelie wanting the elusive more was what had gotten her into this mess.
“I’m a caterpillar these days. First Ambrose turned me into his host, and now Adelaide is turning me into her dead sister.” Her toes bunched on the hardwood. “When I burst from my cocoon this time, I’m hoping for butterfly instead of moth wings.”
“I want that for you too.” And I meant it, every word. “I want you to be happy.”
But until she loved herself, the person she was born to be, I worried misery was all she would find.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “You’ll let me know about Odette?”
“Yeah,” I promised. “I will.”
The walk across the lawn to Woolworth House was too short to grind down the edge of my panic. I strode in, jogged the stairs, and took advantage of Linus’s open-door policy. I found him propped up in bed, wearing black-framed glasses, dressed in a white tee with striped pajama bottoms. The book in his hands drooped at whatever he read in my expression.
“Odette is missing.”
He set aside his research and opened his arms to me. He didn’t have to ask me twice. I climbed up the mattress and rested my head on his shoulder.
“How do you know?” he murmured against my hair. “Who told you?”
“Amelie.” I breathed in his scent and relaxed. “She got worried when Odette wouldn’t return her calls and asked her brother to check out the house on Tybee. That’s why he came out earlier. That, and to spend some time with her.”
“How does he know she’s gone?” His fingers traced soothing lines down my arms. “You mentioned she was traveling. Does he know her well enough to tell what’s missing?”
“No, they aren’t close.” I shivered in his arms, the chill of his skin clearing my head. “That doesn’t matter in this case. The house was empty. Cleaned out, according to Amelie.”
“I’ll check it out.” He kissed the top of my head. “You go rest.”
Jitters prompted me to offer him company. “It’s not far. I could go with you before I crash.”
“Your truce with Hood is delicate.” He set me aside with gentle hands. “It’s in your best interest to remain here.”
True, Hood was still sore about me trapping him in a circle while I faced off against vampires solo, and I had given my word not to interfere with him protecting me again, within reason, but he had extended my leash a bit. He didn’t shadow me everywhere I went, so long as Linus or Cletus did the job for him.
Unhappy to be rousted from my spot, I frowned. “Are you telling me to stay put?”
“No.” He stood and selected an outfit from his closet. “I’m making an observation.”
“Hmph.”
“Come with me,” he offered. “I won’t stop you.”
“This is a trap,” I grumbled. “You’re using logic against me.”
“I will support whatever decision you make,” he said on his way into the bathroom to change.
The old house groaned through her floorboards until I worried they might snap.
“I’m not going with him,” I assured her. “I respect Hood too much to sneak out without him.”
Plus, the guy had really sharp teeth, and he knew how to use them.
When Linus reemerged, dressed and ready, I let him reach the door before clearing my throat and pulling out my pen. “Where do you want your sigil?”
When he glanced back, his eyes were warm. “I thought you might have forgotten.”
“You’re going to examine the scene of a possible crime. Alone.”
“I’ve done it many times over the years.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t have me then. You’re going to have to suck it up and learn to live with it.”
“Somehow,” he said, his fingers working over the buttons on his shirt, “I think I’ll survive.”
“You better,” I growled, then set to work on the sigil that would keep him safe when I couldn’t.
Three
The dream swirled into my head before I understood that I had fallen asleep waiting on Linus.
He has a new girlfriend. His third one this week. Just as mundane as all the rest.
Why not me? Why won’t he ask me? I would say yes. He knows I would say yes. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I should play hard to get. Maybe then he would see we were meant to…
The carpet squishes under my feet, and cold slime seeps between my toes. I shiver, confused, my anger at Boaz forgotten. The smell hits me then, copper and rose water and thyme.
Maud.
I collapse to my knees beside her and scoop the icy blood back into the gaping hole in her chest.
“Maud?”
The sobs start, and I can’t stop them. I’m working as fast as I can, but her heart—her heart—it’s missing.
“Wake up. Please wake up. Please, Maud. Wake up. Please.”
Shivers dapple my arms, and my teeth chatter, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if she won’t open her eyes. I’ll be alone again. All alone. Maud is all I have, and she’s…
She’s gone.
She’s dead.
Dead.
Using her blood for my ink, I start drawing a sigil, one I’ve never seen in any textbooks.
“No, Grier,” a voice pleads behind me. “Stop before it’s too late.”
“I’m not losing her too. I won’t.” I keep going, slipping and sliding, covering her head to toe in the foreign sigils. “Come on, Maud. Try. For me.”
“You have to let her go.” Footsteps pound closer. “You don’t want her back. Not like this.”
“You’re wrong.” I scream so loud my voice shreds to ribbons. “I want her back any way I can get her.”
“You don’t mean that. Please, Grier. Think.”
Snot clogs my throat as I close the sigil with a defiant swoop of my finger.
Magic explodes into the room, knocks me backward, and my head cracks against a wall.
“Grier.”
Darkness swirls around me, and I embrace it, grateful when it blinds me to the corpse at my feet.
Cold seeped into my bones, frigid as the grave, and I turned away from the source, still half-asleep.
“I’m here,” Linus murmured from some great distance. “Sleep.”
I sank deeper into the blackness, and this time I dreamed of nothing at all.
I woke with shooting pain in my tailbone. I was ready for a spine-ectomy. Mine was faulty. It hurt all the time. I’m sure sleeping upright on floors and getting knocked on my butt daily had nothing to do with it.
“You
’re awake.”
Eyes still heavy with sleep, I mumbled, “I am?”
“Your stomach is growling.”
“I swallowed a tiger.”
Linus laughed, really laughed, and the sound was so bright I had to open my eyes to see for myself.
“Breakfast is ready whenever you are,” he said, and he handed me a chill tumbler that smelled like herbs and copper, like him, like fresh-cut mint rubbed between a thumb and finger and the tang of old pennies. I sipped, and my appetite dialed down from a roar to a purr. “Do you want to eat first or shower?”
“I’ll shower.” Setting the smoothie aside, I groped behind me, intending to push myself upright using the vee made by the corner where I slept, but there was only one wall supporting my back. “What in the…?”
“You slept in the hall outside my room,” Linus explained, rescuing my aperitif before I knocked it over with my flailing. “I found you when I got home.”
“I must have fallen asleep in your bed.” Slumping down, I rubbed my eyes. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind.” He shifted to his left, but I saw the chair he had positioned into the doorway of his room. A new sketchbook rested on two hefty tomes under it, and a jar full of colored pencils topped it off like a cherry on a sundae. “I wasn’t sure if you walked here from your room.” His gaze tagged the landing. “I worried you might fall down the stairs if you got turned around, so I kept watch.”
Embarrassment propelled me to my feet. “Please tell me you didn’t draw me.”
Linus blocked the doorway to guard his prize. “How could I resist?”
“Show me.” I held out my hand. “I want to see.”
“Are you sure?”
Not really. “Yes.”
“Promise me you won’t destroy it.” He scanned my face. “I’m partial to the subject matter.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, crossing my toes. “I won’t destroy it.”
Poor, trusting Linus retrieved his sketchbook, lifted the cover, and spun it on his palm. I was about to make a liar out of myself when I saw what he had drawn. Me. Asleep. Curled up in his blanket outside his door like a baby bird kicked out of her nest. I looked…peaceful. Content. Safe. Clearly, he had taken liberal artistic license.
“Well?” He nudged my foot with the tip of his shoe, proving he knew me too well. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure who the model is, but it’s a lovely piece.” I traced the dark strands of hair fanned across the hardwood. “You’re a talented artist.”
“Your dreams aren’t all nightmare,” he told me. “The worst comes before dusk.”
“That sounds about right.” I passed the drawing back to him. “The nightmare feels longer, though.”
“Nightmares always do.”
An unsettling quiet filled the space between us, and the light dimmed in his expression.
Out of time for make believe, I gathered my nerve. “What did you find?”
“Boaz was right. The house is empty. There’s no furniture, no art on the walls, no pots in the kitchen, no clothes in the closet.” He flattened his lips into a hard line. “There’s no trace of Odette, and no sign she plans on returning.”
“I don’t understand.” A childlike whine threaded my voice. “I spoke to her last week. She told me she was going to visit a client. She wouldn’t have just left. Not without telling me. Something must have happened to her.”
“There were no signs of a struggle.”
“I want to see for myself.” I touched his arm. “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”
“I understand.” His hand settled over mine. “I’ve already informed Hood we’ll be driving out to Tybee.”
“I’ll go change.” I slipped past him. “We can deal with Corbin when we get back.”
Tiny brackets framed his mouth, but he let me go and went to ready his things.
Woolly, the little eavesdropper, informed me Corbin was sleeping in with a flash of insight through our bond. He was probably exhausted from his escape and the drive here. Good. He could catch eighty winks as far as I was concerned. Odette was family, and family trumped progeny in this case.
After I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a clean tee, I braided my hair and slung my backpack across my shoulders.
Linus met me on the stairs, and we walked down together.
Hood and Lethe waited for us in the living room. She was snacking her way through a bowl of popcorn, but she stopped cramming her face long enough to smile at me. Hood stole a piece, and she growled at him. He tweaked her nose, finding her adorable, and Lethe snapped at his fingers. Before they progressed to full-on love bites, I clapped my hands to get their attention.
“Lethe, can you stay here and watch Corbin? He’s still asleep, but he’ll wake up hungry.”
“There’s more blood in the fridge,” Linus added before a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “From all the donors Grier rejected. Corbin might as well drink up. She won’t touch it.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have one of those juice box straws with a tapered end.” I mimed piercing his carotid artery. “Otherwise, I would so stab you right now.”
The man was far too pleased with himself for being tasty. But I wasn’t much better, snarling over my preferred vintage when vampires got too close to him, so I had no room to talk.
“Sure thing.” She stomped Hood’s instep on her way past him to the couch. “I’m always left behind. Why would tonight be any different?”
Glancing between them, I had to wonder if I hadn’t walked in on a fight larger than food. Granted, not much ranked higher than grub with Lethe, but she wasn’t usually this violent over non-meat snacks.
Hood tossed the van keys in the air. “Do you want to drive them?”
“No.” She shoveled a handful in her mouth, giving her chipmunk cheeks. “That’s your job.”
“I’m staying with the vampire.” Hood folded his arms across his broad chest. “You go with Grier.”
“I won’t, and you can’t make me.” She reached for the remote, smearing butter all over the buttons. I bet Linus—my little neat freak—was dying inside, but he kept his agony to himself. He could always wipe it clean later, when there wasn’t a cranky gwyllgi guarding it. “I’m going to sit here, stuff my face, and veg out while this parasite bloats me.”
Parasite? That was a new one.
“You okay?” I inched closer. “You’re more bite than bark tonight.”
“I’m fine,” she snarled at me. “Back. Off.”
I took her suggestion literally. Gwyllgi reflexes put necromancers to shame. “This is me, backing off.”
When Linus took my elbow, I didn’t fight him as he led me outside and away from Lethe. Hood followed, but he kept glancing behind him to where Lethe was eviscerating her snack with brutal chomps.
“I’m not going to suggest it’s hormones,” I told him, “but I would like to know what’s up with her.”
“She got challenged for her position as second in the Atlanta pack.” He scoffed. “Via text message.”
“The cowards waited until she was pregnant and out of town to hit her with this? Even then, they didn’t have the courage to do it to her face?” I curled my fingers into fists at my sides. “Can she fight in her condition?”
Blanching, Hood checked to see if she’d heard, then exhaled with relief when she continued ignoring us.
“Never imply she’s not fit to defend her rank. She’ll kill you for the insult to her pride.” Pinching my arm in a viselike grip, he hauled me stumbling to the gate. “Though she would feel bad about it later.”
“Oh, well, that makes it hunky-dory,” I whisper-screamed. “I’m warning you now that if she eats me, I’ll give her indigestion for the rest of her life. Your children and great-grandchildren will rue the day she gobbled me like a Thanksgiving turkey.”
“Slow down, drumstick.” Hood chuckled. “Thanksgiving is a human holiday.”
“No, it’s a major food holid
ay,” Linus reminded him. “Grier celebrates all those.”
“There’s no law against a necromancer celebrating Turkey Day,” I pointed out, and they both laughed.
Being raised with a foot in each world, the way I and most Low Society necromancers were, was an invitation to adopt the human holidays that suited us. For me, that involved most all of them. Any excuse to eat was a good reason to celebrate in my book.
“She has her priorities straight,” Hood said, amused. “You’re definitely pack with that bottomless pit you call a stomach. You’re practically gwyllgi.”
“I choose to view that as a compliment.” I passed through the gate. “Let’s go to Tybee.”
On the way, I used an app to order Lethe five burgers, five fries, and five chocolate shakes with whipped cream and cherries.
With any luck, the extra calories ought to make her easier to live with until her inner beast settled again.
From the mint-green siding to the peppermint-pink shutters, from the white trim accenting the eaves to the clear plastic sealing the windows to keep it cool, Odette’s bungalow on Tybee Island had always reminded me of hard candy still in the wrapper.
Hood parked in the sandy driveway, and I approached the front door. I knocked, waited. No one answered. I knocked again, waited longer. Still no response. I gave it a go for a third time, but the results were the same.
Odette wasn’t here. No surprise there. I was only prolonging the inevitable.
“The door was unlocked when I was here earlier,” Linus offered. “I didn’t lock it after I left.”
Gathering up my nerve, I tested the knob. As Linus said, it spun without resistance. I pushed in, and the sight punched me in the gut.
The bone-white couch, the driftwood coffee table, the local art hung here and there. All gone.
When I breathed in the air, it tasted stale. Old. Faded. The perfume of her incense was a whispered suggestion.