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How to Live an Undead Lie (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 5)

Page 11

by Hailey Edwards


  As much as I disliked treating Hood like the help, he didn’t appear to mind the ruse. Granted, he worked as a doorman for myriad reasons, so he must be used to fading into the background. Crazy when you considered who he was, who he was mated to, and the power their pack held in Atlanta. But I could attest to the fact the Society never looked beyond the end of their nose. They didn’t value other races, species. Their interest began and ended at home. Vampires were an offshoot of ours, so it made sense they were insular as well.

  “Not at all, mistress.” The vampire did a better job of acting like he wasn’t mocking my limitations than I did acting innocent. “I expected as much.” He gestured for me to lead. “Please, the master waits.”

  “Hood?” I was grateful he took the hint without arguing and went to fetch the van. “Cletus?”

  The wraith joined me, resting his bony hand on my shoulder in a show of solidarity I hadn’t realized I needed until that moment.

  As much as I wanted to believe the reason his touch steadied me was Maud was in there, somewhere, I knew in my gut it had more to do with who controlled the wraith than who the wraith was to me.

  Linus.

  The urge to ditch this meeting and run to him instead, so I could yell at him until I got out all the hurt, was there. But my alliance with the master was too tentative for me to risk his offense if I bailed on our first meeting, one I had initiated.

  Hood rolled up, and we met him at the gate. Our guide claimed the front passenger seat to better give Hood directions. That left Corbin and Lethe with me in the rear. I sat in my preferred spot, and he sank beside me. She took the plush half seat next to the door that Linus favored. Cletus, as usual, preferred to meet us there.

  From where I sat, it was hard following our exact turns, but tension coiled tighter and tighter in my belly until I pressed my palms against my stomach to rub the miserable ache.

  Lethe was staring at me. “You good?”

  Forcing my hands into my lap, I glanced over at Lethe. “I think I know where we’re going.”

  Her green eyes rounded in comprehension, and her lips peeled away from her teeth. An urgent warning flashed in her eyes, but when she opened her mouth, no sound escaped, and she ground her molars.

  I leaned forward, pitching my voice low. “Are you good?”

  She nodded once, but her jaw remained clenched hard enough to break teeth.

  I met Hood’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and a faint red sheen rolled over his eyes.

  Something was happening to the gwyllgi, who were my backup, and they might not get a chance to explain before we arrived for our audience with my grandfather.

  Paranoia danced up my spine en pointe, and foreboding chills pirouetted in its wake.

  Corbin leaned over, his lips brushing my ear. “What’s going on?”

  Despite his caution, there was nothing gwyllgi wouldn’t overhear in a space this size. “I’m not sure.”

  “Gwyllgi work in security,” Lethe gritted between clenched teeth. “We sign magically enforced NDAs.”

  Sweat popped on her brow, and she slumped back in her seat, panting like she’d run a marathon instead of making a vague statement about her work habits.

  A chill settled into my bones as a new certainty blossomed in my mind.

  The only way that applied to this situation was… They had worked for Lacroix.

  Seven

  The farther we drove, the harder I fought to hold on to my calm. The urge to dash up the stairs in my head and find solace in the quiet of my own mind left me staring out the window behind Lethe. This time there was no Linus to anchor me, to give me a reason to stay, but it was dangerous giving another person that kind of power over you, even when you trusted them, so I pulled myself back from the edge for a change.

  After what felt like an eternity in the stifling confines of the van, the vampire pointed to a dirt road. “Turn left. You may park beneath the portico.”

  On the edge of my seat, I leaned forward and had to roll in my lips to stifle an outcry.

  The drive was familiar.

  The landscaping familiar.

  The garden…horribly familiar.

  And the house…the estate…

  I had been held prisoner here. I had wasted away to nothing here. I had almost, almost given up here.

  The physical scars on my wrist might have been smoothed away, but the emotional ones remained.

  “Do not be dismayed, mistress,” the vampire said smugly. “The master could hardly welcome you in our new clan home while your loyalties remain divided.”

  This was a power play. Plain and simple. Lacroix wanted me off kilter. He wanted me spooked. Paranoid.

  Mission accomplished.

  Unsurprising, given his age, he had seized the upper hand before I even got in the van. I hadn’t expected to meet him on level footing—a man like him saw no one as his equal—but I hadn’t anticipated him to hit below the belt this soon. Clearly, overestimating his sentimentality toward me had been a grave error.

  But, since he struck the first blow by selecting this location, I couldn’t find it in myself to feel all that bad about the stake nestled against my sternum.

  Our escort got out, and a nod from me had Hood locking the doors to keep him that way.

  After removing the modified pen from my pocket, I lifted my shirt and drew the protective rune I had redesigned for Linus on my lower stomach, careful to keep the stake hidden in the folds of material in case the vampire pressed his nose to the glass. When I finished, I arched an eyebrow.

  Lethe raised her shirt, no hesitation. The tiny swell giving her a slight paunch made me pause, but a baby was an even better reason to protect her. I drew it on her stomach then turned to Hood. It wasn’t graceful, but he climbed into the back with us, and I drew him one between his shoulder blades.

  Corbin I saved for last. If he saw my friends sporting theirs without experiencing any adverse effects, he might volunteer for his own. That was the hope. I wasn’t certain if he understood what sigils were or that the red ink was mostly blood. He didn’t appear confused as he peeled his faded tee over washboard abs puckered with cruel scars earned in his trade. I wore my reminders on the inside, just beneath the skin, so I didn’t linger over his marks or ask any questions.

  With all of us protected, we let Hood get the door from the inside and finish his chauffer act by helping me step onto the driveway.

  The vampire’s nostrils flared, scenting blood, and he understood that I had worked some magic, but he couldn’t be certain unless he asked me outright. I was willing to bet he wouldn’t go that far—I was still Lacroix’s granddaughter—and he didn’t out of respect for his master.

  I might have entered through the front door on the night Volkov and my stalkerpire smuggled me here, but I had no memory of it thanks to the strength of Volkov’s lure. Escape brought me out here from the side of the house, near the rear, and rescue happened on the manicured lawn.

  Boaz had led the charge to save me. He had been there, arms wide open, to help me limp to freedom.

  Our relationship had been simpler then, and I wished I could turn back the clock, but I wouldn’t have listened to myself even if I could go back in time and shake my shoulders until my brain rattled. I had wanted him too much for too long to be satisfied without experiencing him for myself.

  Now that I had, I had regrets. But without getting my heart stomped on, I would have been skipping a necessary step to my recovery there in the middle. And without that wake-up call, I might have missed out on Linus.

  As if the turn in my thoughts had summoned him, Cletus materialized at my shoulder.

  I glanced back to check on Lethe and Hood, both of whom refused to look at me. Not a great sign.

  The details of their NDA must have been a doozy if they were locked down this tight. Admitting they had signed the paperwork left Lethe breathless. More information might cut off her oxygen altogether. I had heard of gag orders, but this was ridiculous.

&n
bsp; Corbin stuck close as I followed the vampire through the ornate front doors, down a long hall tiled in the wheat-colored stone I recalled glimpsing through a crack in the door to my room when Lena came and went. Lena, who had been my nursemaid as a child, if my stalkerpire was to be believed.

  Lena, who let me waste away to nothing without lifting a finger to help. Lena, who would have dressed me for my wedding and been hurt when I refused to kiss my groom…until he cranked up his lure anyway.

  There were no fond memories for me here. I had to pack away the grim reminders and hope I got the chance to unload on someone later.

  “He thought you might be more comfortable in the study.” The vampire, who had still not given his name, knocked on a door that looked the same as the dozen others lining the hall, then pushed it open. He bowed so low, he could have kissed his shins. “Your granddaughter is here to see you, Master.”

  Before I was revealed, I arranged the mask of Dame Woolworth on my face, using every trick I had learned from Linus to make my persona seamless. Without knowing me, Lacroix had no hope of prying it up or peeking beneath.

  “Grier, my darling girl. You look well.”

  Gaspard Lacroix was frozen in his late thirties. His hair was long and black, and he kept it bound at his nape with a simple ribbon. Power rolled off his skin, giving the air a tangible weight, and my already unsettled stomach lurched. Only the tattoo between my shoulder blades kept me standing while his magic hissed I should fall on my knees before him, kiss his feet, lick the tiles beneath his shoes.

  The gwyllgi had a natural immunity to vampiric lures. Otherwise, they couldn’t take odd jobs for vampires without being enslaved by them. Why pay when you can get it for free?

  Corbin was the wild card, and I regretted playing him. I wasn’t certain if he had any natural immunity to a vampire of Lacroix’s caliber, or to lures at all, but I had to find out before I left him to my grandfather’s tender mercies. Now all I had to do was wait for Lacroix to strong-arm him and see if Corbin buckled.

  “I appreciate you taking this meeting with me.” I arranged a polite smile. “I have a bit of a situation, and I was hoping you might counsel me.”

  “Tell me more.” He gathered my hands in his, warm and dry, pressed a kiss to each of my cheeks, then pulled me toward an elegant wingback chair opposite the one he had been in when we arrived. “Sit, sit. Let us discuss this problem.” He reclaimed his seat without acknowledging anyone else was in the room. As much as I wanted to be flattered to be the center of attention, I knew a snub when I saw one. “What can I do to help? Anything. Name it, and it will be yours.”

  “This is Corbin Theroux.” I gestured him forward, and he came without a trace of the nerves he must be experiencing. “He escaped a secure facility where the Grande Dame placed him for observation.” I let that sink in. That he mattered to the Grande Dame, that she had set him aside, that she wanted him observed. “He came straight to me and begged for asylum.”

  I was laying it on thick, but Corbin didn’t contradict me, thankfully.

  “Interesting.” Lacroix shifted his focus to Corbin, and already I could breathe easier. “Why would she…?”

  “He’s Deathless.” I suppressed a flinch when Lacroix shot his gaze back to mine. “He’s my progeny.”

  “Welcome.” He bounded to his feet, eyes sparkling, and shook hands with Corbin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Forgive my earlier rudeness. I have not had much occasion to converse with my granddaughter, and she was all I saw.”

  Guess I wasn’t the only one laying it on thick. Maybe it ran in the family. Perish the thought.

  “I understand, sir.”

  Sir. I was shocked when Corbin didn’t choke on the word, but the militant cadence to his voice betrayed that it was all an act. Good news for us, since Lacroix’s touch didn’t appear to influence Corbin’s distaste for the man.

  “Well-mannered, I approve.” He indicated Corbin should take the other vacant chair. “Take a seat, son.”

  The endearment set alarm bells clanging in my head, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

  “You understand the delicate nature of the issue,” I said, readjusting my mask. “I’m betrothed to the Lawson scion, but the Lawson matriarch has a vested interest in my progeny. There are no other known Deathless vampires in existence. The temptation to observe one has proven greater than the sum of his past crimes in her estimation.”

  “Past crimes,” he murmured, clearly interested. “Elaborate.”

  Corbin kept his head straight, eyes forward. “I come from hunter stock, sir.”

  Surprise he had shared the truth of his past radiated through me, but Lacroix would approve of that killer instinct. Provided he could hone it and redirect it.

  “Fascinating.” Lacroix all but rubbed his hands together. “I suppose that must have been the crime that led you to be held in the black pit they call Atramentous.”

  “I was careless,” Corbin admitted, “and I got caught.”

  “None of that, now.” Lacroix clucked his tongue. “You can learn, you will learn.”

  The volume of the warning bells doubled, tripled, and I finally processed why his attitude grated.

  I was female, to be given into an advantageous marriage. Corbin was male, and he was, by vampire law, the closest thing I had to a biological son.

  Lacroix was showing his age, falling back on old prejudices, and losing mega points with me.

  He was reaching if he meant to proclaim Corbin the new Lacroix heritor using that thin connective tissue, but he had embraced Volkov for less. And Corbin had the benefit of being able to sire children, which Volkov, as a Last Seed, couldn’t do. Corbin could establish a ruling bloodline. A pure bloodline.

  The children of Deathless vampires were said to be true immortals, though their grandchildren were believed to be mortal, but mortals could be made immortal easy enough if you had, say, a goddess-touched granddaughter on speed dial.

  I had expected Lacroix to barter with me for Corbin. I had expected to be the leverage. But I was a known entity, and Corbin was a shiny new toy, ripe for the claiming since I had as good as admitted he was a clanless fugitive.

  “I will offer him asylum,” Lacroix announced. “How can I not? He is your progeny, and that makes him clan.”

  Corbin, who had done a bang-up job of appearing calm and collected, shot me a sideways glance.

  “You make a generous offer, Grandfather.” Unable to comfort Corbin, I got ready to dump bucketloads more shade on the Grande Dame. “They caged him, refused to teach him how to feed. He lives on donor blood. He’s ignorant to his vampire heritage.”

  Lacroix couldn’t have looked more affronted than if he had been a fluffy cat who fell into a bathtub.

  “Vampires are predators.” Lacroix bared his teeth, but he kept his fangs tucked politely away. “They are made for the hunt, for the kill.” He must have remembered not everyone present was on Team Murder Good. I was Team Murder Bad, but I doubted there was a local chapter. “Those were the old days,” he said, injecting nostalgia into the sentiment. “We feed without killing in this era. That is the wisest and best course to maintain our species’ anonymity.”

  There was no mention of killing being wrong, not that I had expected one. Still, I felt better about Corbin’s potential immunity after he made fists so tight I was amazed he didn’t swing them at Lacroix’s head.

  Corbin had dedicated his life to saving humans from The Vampire Threat. I didn’t have to be an active member of that chapter to know they used all caps for that kind of thing. Bad enough he was a vampire, that he had chosen this life, betraying his old one, but for Lacroix to expect Corbin to kill humans to survive? That was a rookie mistake.

  Lacroix had grown too used to preaching conversion to the members of the Undead Coalition. And I suspected he had let slip the bait he was using on accident: the unregulated hunting of humans. A return to the old ways. His ways. He wanted to pass out sunglasses in all his Welcome to Clan Lacroix ki
ts so that his converts might view the future through the rose-colored lenses of his past.

  But Corbin hadn’t bought his way into a clan—he hadn’t wanted immortality, he had chosen it as an alternative to death. That was it. Expecting him to clap his hands and squee over a chance to spill oceans of human blood proved how out of touch Lacroix was with this demographic. Corbin would grit his teeth and starve first.

  “Humans do tend to glorify the supernatural” was the most neutral response I could cobble together.

  “That doesn’t mean the poor boy can’t be taught to feed from willing partners.” Lacroix didn’t hear me over the plans he was making. “I would be happy to oversee his education personally.”

  He slapped Corbin on the back, his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and old magic hit me.

  Bend, bend, bend, it seemed to whisper across my senses, but I refused to break, and so did Corbin.

  Much to my relief, he didn’t exhibit any signs he was aware of Lacroix’s grasp to strangle his will.

  Touch boosted the power of a Last Seed’s lure—Volkov had illustrated that firsthand—and Lacroix was giving it all he had, pumping his lure into the room until I coughed as it lodged in my throat. The tattoo on my spine burned, the ink pulsing with my heart, the design holding Lacroix’s compulsion at bay.

  Perhaps this meant Deathless were immune to Last Seeds. Perhaps they were immune to all lures. I was happy to let Linus puzzle that out. All that mattered to me was that Corbin’s eyes remained clear, and my mind remained my own.

  “You have much to learn, but it has been an age since I had someone to teach.” Lacroix did a poor job of concealing his annoyance, but he appeared more intrigued than put out by this discovery. “My son, George, was adopted. Last Seeds can’t produce children, so when the time came to name my heritor, he was chosen from among the descendants of my line as the most qualified.”

  The offer to Corbin was clear, but I was too busy savoring the morsel he let slip about my father. While I had been holding on to the hope Lacroix and I weren’t blood related at all—as with Volkov, sometimes a LS adopted an heritor—it was good to have confirmation.

 

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