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

Page 28

by Hailey Edwards


  Slamming the mental door behind me, I curled in a tight ball, in my safe place, and shut my eyes.

  Twenty

  “Grier.”

  “Grier.”

  “Grier.”

  The name echoed through the vastness of my mental hidey-hole, soft and inviting.

  “Come back to me.”

  “Come back to me.”

  “Come back to me.”

  The voice warmed me, and I uncurled from the fetal position to peek at the door leading down, down, down, back to that other place, the hard place, the ugly place.

  I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to remember. I wanted to stay here, with nothing.

  Having nothing meant having nothing to lose.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  Wary of who had the power to rouse me, even in my safe place, I padded over to the door and turned the knob. The comforting scent of cold tingled in my nose. Crushed herbs and dirt. Familiar things. Wonderful things. But I couldn’t remember why those things mattered so much.

  Nudging the crack wider, I eased through and took the stairs back down into my body.

  “You can’t leave,” a coarse voice rasped. “I won’t let you go.”

  The first name to pop into my head was Midas. The beautiful, ruined voice. The gentleness of it.

  But hearing his voice had never made me weep, and I couldn’t stop the great heaving sobs that wracked my chest.

  “Open your eyes,” he said, a sandpaper whisper. “Look at me.”

  “No.” I bawled until I hiccupped and choked on my denials. “You might not be real.”

  “Shhh.” Blessedly cool fingers lifted my hand to an equally cool throat. “I’m real.”

  Daring my lashes to rise, I studied the pressed shirt in front of me. The fabric looked expensive, that was promising. The buttons gleamed, a match for all the ones I had sent pinging across the floor in recent months. Heart pounding, I kept traveling higher, checking off all the similarities that gave me sickening hope I wasn’t hallucinating.

  The skin of his throat, once smooth and unblemished, had a fresh scar that I doubted any amount of necromantic magic could erase. And I didn’t care. Not one whit.

  Courage mounting, I examined his chin, noting the auburn stubble. Higher still, I found his poor nose, flawless even after Woolly had broken it. Pale lashes and then…navy-blue eyes.

  “Linus.”

  “I’m here.” He trailed his fingers across my cheeks, and tears glistened on their tips. “So are you.”

  “How?” I clutched his wrists. “Oh goddess, I didn’t—?”

  Understanding my fear, he shook his head. “You healed me.”

  “I thought I’d lost you.” I stared at my hands. “I couldn’t counteract the blade’s magic.”

  “You saved me.” He rubbed his throat. “I wouldn’t have survived until the healer arrived otherwise.”

  I almost asked if Shane had treated him, but no. Shane was gone. Lacroix had killed him.

  An immortal being snuffed out of existence as if he had never been. Such a waste.

  “Heinz.” Linus answered the question I hadn’t asked. “Boaz dispatched him to our location.”

  The savage attack on Boaz felt as distant as a nightmare. “He’s okay?”

  He hesitated. “Yes.”

  My pulse kicked up a notch. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You healed him. Completely.”

  The awe in his expression made me nervous. “What do you mean—completely?”

  “He has no wounds or signs of ever having been injured. In his entire life. He’s a blank canvas. Even his scars have been erased.” He traced my fingers, marveling at the power in them. “He also has a new leg.”

  “A leg?” I yelped, jerking upright. “A whole new leg?”

  “Not an entire leg, no.” Amusement curved his lips. “Just from the knee down.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that.” I wouldn’t even know where to start. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

  Maybe Lacroix was right, and love for Linus and my friends was the key to unlocking my full potential. I had witnessed shades of this phenomenon in Lethe’s healing, in her child’s growth spurt, but this was next-level bizarre for a necromancer. We weren’t healers, but maybe…I was?

  “He hasn’t complained, if you’re concerned he might want his prosthetic back.”

  “Do you think that’s why I couldn’t heal you?” I wiped my damp palms on my thighs. “I ran out of juice?”

  “I believe Lacroix was right, that goddess-touched artifacts counteract goddess-touched magic.”

  “The weapons we forge can be used against us as well as by us.”

  “We have yet to discover the limits to your power. This lends weight to the argument the Marchands, and others with regular contact with goddess-touched necromancers, would require a means of controlling them.”

  Nullify our magic, and we were left defenseless against the power of fellow necromancers and the raw strength of vampires. While I understood the Marchands’ healthy fear of what they created, I wasn’t thrilled to have experienced their precautionary measures firsthand.

  “Any word on Corbin?” I didn’t sense Cletus. I hoped that meant the wraith was with him.

  “Lacroix has him confined to a cell. He’s safe, for now. The clan home has been warded against wraiths, but Cletus is keeping an eye on the property. We’ll know if Lacroix attempts to have him moved.” Linus cupped my cheek in one hand. “We’ll get him back.”

  Corbin gambled his fate on my ability to protect him, and he lost. I owed him. More than I could pay.

  We had to get him back. He had more than earned his second chance, the opportunity to shape his own future, and I intended to give it to him. But that wasn’t the reason why my throat was closing in a fist.

  Shaking my head, I had to admit to the utter selfishness twisting my gut into knots.

  “Odette almost killed you.” I rubbed the heel of my palm over my chest, but my heart still ached. “You almost died.”

  “But she didn’t, and I didn’t, thanks to you.”

  “That’s not good enough.” I drew my legs under me. “I have to learn more about my condition, and fast. I need to understand the limits of what I can do, of what those artifacts can do.” I raked my fingers through my knotted hair. “I have to learn how to make my own, how to arm us against Lacroix.”

  “There’s only one place you’re guaranteed to find those answers,” Linus said, and his mouth crimped into an unhappy line. “The Marchands must have archives on your condition since they breed for goddess-touched necromancers. They have artifacts, that much we know for certain. It stands to reason, given the fact Marchands forged the weapon Heloise used against you, they have the knowledge you seek.”

  The Marchands, who had written Mom off, written me off, who blamed me for the death of one of their own. I doubted they would welcome me back into the fold at this point, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have a use for me. That was a happy thought. Still, the trade would be worthwhile if it meant we could save Savannah, and ourselves, from Lacroix.

  Happy to take a break from my family, I shone the spotlight on his.

  “You haven’t mentioned how the Grande Dame fared,” I said carefully. “How is the city?”

  “Mother evacuated the Lyceum after we left, herself included, and joined the Elite in their barracks.” He sounded surprised, and proud, and surprised to be proud. “She led the others through the tunnel to safety. They escaped before Lacroix arrived and sealed the entrance behind them.”

  “Does that mean the Lyceum is secure?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “The protections Mother put in place before she left kept the vampires out of the Lyceum itself, but they’ve taken city hall.” He kept his expression carefully neutral. “Odette is holed up there. Lacroix to
o. He was too weak to evacuate before dawn. Savannah’s Elite have the building and the tunnel mouth surrounded. Reinforcements arrived from our neighbors, and they’re sweeping the town for Lacroix’s people.”

  “What do the humans think is happening?”

  “A cat five hurricane.” He massaged his temples. “The solution isn’t perfect. Hurricanes aren’t like tornadoes. They don’t just pop into and out of existence. They’re tracked for days or weeks in advance, and a tropical depression just passed over us.”

  Unable to resist, I tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Tell me they’re calling it Hurricane Clarice.”

  Naming the storm after her was the least the meteorologists she had in her pocket could do to honor the woman paying them to fabricate a catastrophic event.

  “A mandatory evacuation order has been issued for the city, and there’s a curfew in effect we hope will reduce the victim pool for night feedings for those who can’t or won’t leave. That’s all we can do. Try to minimize the casualties.”

  “How are Lethe and Hood?”

  “Mourning Shane.” He took my hand. “And regretting their parts in what happened, their inability to warn you, to share what they know.”

  “I will admit, I was struggling.” Sometimes you had to weigh the value of keeping a secret against the good revealing it might do, consequences be damned. “Now I understand the contracts they sign are nooses they can’t slip without hanging themselves. They couldn’t have warned us, no matter how much they wanted to, without dire consequences like the ones we saw when Lethe tested her bonds.”

  A knock on the door had me peering around his shoulder. “Oh. Hi.”

  Amelie stood in the doorway, her fingers twisted into knots. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  “I’m good.” I adjusted the cover over my legs. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you,” she croaked and dove for me. “Thank you for saving him.”

  With her in my arms, I closed my eyes and let the tears come. “Your brother is an asshat, but I couldn’t let him die.”

  “He really is,” she sob-laughed against my neck. “Thank you, Grier. I mean it. Thank you.”

  “It’s okay.” I stroked her hair while she cried in my arms. “He’s fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

  As far as lies go, it wasn’t a bad one.

  Over her shoulder, Linus pointed toward the door then slid out of the room, leaving the way open.

  “Hey,” Neely called, “no one told me there was a party going on in here.”

  Cruz scowled at us from the hall. “Are all-girl parties usually so…damp?”

  “They’re called tears.” Marit hip-checked Cruz out of her way. “Yanno, the salty liquid that pours down your man’s face when he watches Titanic or The Notebook?” She flopped down on the bed next to me and took a deep breath. “Are you going to tell us what’s really going on here? Or do I have to tickle it out of you?”

  Amelie shook her head after I cast her a questioning look. “I haven’t told them anything.”

  “That needs to change, starting now.” Cruz seized the reins of the conversation with practiced ease. “You invited us over before this superstorm hit the news. How did you know it was coming when no one else did? Why didn’t you evacuate if you had advance warning? Better yet, why didn’t you tell us to get out instead of holing up in its path?”

  “Throw on the brakes.” Neely touched his husband’s shoulder. “Give the girl a moment to process.”

  “I need answers too,” Marit said. “I have to think of my dad, our family, and our employees.”

  “Get Linus.” I patted Amelie’s hand. “I want him here for this.”

  “Are you sure?” She shifted forward into a protective stance. “After this, there’s no going back.”

  “They deserve to know.” I drew myself up taller. “I trust them with the truth.”

  “You better,” she groused. “Your neck is on the line here.”

  A thoughtful expression crossed Cruz’s face. “Amelie knows,” he surmised. “She’s always known.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “This is my secret too.”

  Neely dipped his chin, his face crumpling at the exclusion, and Cruz kissed his temple.

  Amelie went to fetch Linus, and she returned with him and Lethe in moments.

  Marit stood and joined the Torreses, a united human front, and it was surreal seeing them all together.

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and Linus sat on one side of me while Amelie took the other.

  He took my hand in silent confirmation he supported my decision, and I held on until my bones creaked.

  Lethe posted herself against the wall, her eyes narrowed on the three humans in our midst while Hood remained in the hall at their backs.

  The unsettling realization settled around me that the gwyllgi had penned them in to see how they reacted to the news humans ranked lower on the food chain than they had always been taught.

  “We aren’t human,” I told them. “We’re necromancers.”

  A hush spread through the room.

  “You…raise the dead?” Neely’s hand lifted to his throat, and he paled. “As in zombies?”

  “As in vampires,” Amelie corrected.

  “Vampires,” Cruz echoed.

  “That is…” Marit speared her fingers through her hair. “Freaking awesome.”

  Neely examined Linus and then Lethe for signs of rot or dripping eyeballs. “Are you necromancers too?”

  “Yes,” Linus said.

  Lethe didn’t answer, and neither did Hood.

  “Danill Volkov,” Cruz said, eyes narrowing on me. “He’s one of you?”

  Leave it to Cruz to see the big picture before the others finished studying their individual puzzle pieces.

  “A vampire, yes.”

  He kept plowing onward, a hard glint in his eye. “And the woman who rammed Neely in Atlanta?”

  “She was a vampire,” I admitted. “You were right when you said the accident was my fault. Vampires had targeted me, and Neely paid the price.”

  Usually, Cruz ran hot. This was Cruz downright glacial. I wasn’t sure which was worse. “We’re leaving.”

  “No,” Neely said, sounding tired. “We’re not.” He dragged his gaze to me. “Make it good. This is your only shot at convincing him you mean us no harm.”

  Thankful he had given me that much leeway, even if he did make me sound like an extraterrestrial, I launched into the big sell.

  “The same vampires who attacked us in Atlanta have seized control of Savannah. They’re holed up in city hall until dark, so there’s a chance you can strike out in the morning if you want to evacuate. We’ll have to secure a route and an escort, but we can make that happen if it’s what you decide is best for you.” I included Marit. “Any of you.”

  “We can wait until morning to leave,” Cruz started, “but beyond that—”

  “Good grief,” Lethe huffed. “Stand back and try not to wet your pants.”

  Red magic splashed up her legs, sloshing onto her shoulders, and it drained to leave her gwyllgi form.

  Too late to stop her, I dropped my face into my hands.

  A thud had me searching out the source.

  “Cruz.”

  The ballsy lawyer sat where his knees had buckled and gawked at Lethe. “What the hell is that?”

  “Lethe is a shifter,” Hood said from behind them. “So am I.”

  The boom of his voice reminded them he was there, and they scattered from the doorway.

  “Who’s a pretty girl? You! You are! Come here, puppy,” Marit cooed. “Can I pet her?”

  “Uh, no.” I fisted Lethe’s ruff to hold her steady. “She eats people who annoy her.”

  Neely knelt beside Cruz, draped an arm around his shoulders, and stroked his back.

  “You’re handling this better than I expected,” I admitted to Neely.

  “How long have I worked for a ghost tour com
pany?” He scoffed. “You think I haven’t seen things I can’t explain? Do you know how many of our guests come back with photos or video of orbs and apparitions? They’re all over the website.” He screwed up his face. “Come to think of it, a lot of those tours have you credited as the guide.”

  “Ghosts are attracted to necromancers,” I admitted. “I did use that to my advantage.”

  “I’m not judging you.” He ran his fingers through his perfect hair. “We all use the gifts God gave us to our best advantage.”

  Mentioning we worshipped a goddess was oversharing, so I just nodded, grateful for his cool head.

  “This explains a lot,” he mused. “Your disappearances.”

  “Yeah.” Fingers clenching on Linus’s, I wet my lips to explain, but nothing came out when I tried.

  “Enough.” Linus put an end to that avenue of questioning. “That’s enough for now.”

  Grateful for the reprieve, I let his ruling stand. Even so, it took a full minute for my heart to slow.

  “The world is bigger and more dangerous for you all than it was yesterday,” I said, “and I’m sorry for my part in that, but I’m trusting you each with the truth. I care about you, and I want you to be safe. I don’t think that’s possible anymore, not without you understanding the scope of your involvement in our world.”

  Cruz had recovered somewhat, enough to articulate a question for Linus. “Who are you?”

  “Linus Lawson,” he said levelly. “I’m Grier’s fiancé.”

  “Fiancé,” Neely gasped. “Forget this other-world nonsense. When did this happen? Where’s the ring?”

  Linus held up his hand, showing off his twisted band with a proud smile.

  “I don’t understand.” Neely looked to me, expectant. “You don’t have a ring, and he’s got…a bread tie?”

  “Our society is matriarchal.” I chuckled at his horror. “I proposed to him. He’ll be taking my last name.”

  “You bent a knee for him, and that’s the best you could do? Money is tight, I get that, but come on. You could have saved up and bought him a gold band at least.” His indignation on Linus’s behalf earned him a smile from my amused fiancé. “You can always buy him something nicer later.” He held up his own left hand to showcase a platinum band inset with diamonds. “This is my upgrade.”

 

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