How to Survive an Undead Honeymoon (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 8)

by Hailey Edwards

  But Hood was a member of the family they had chosen, and he had earned his place. They all had. It made a difference when you weren’t expected to trust based on sharing DNA, as if family never lied or hurt you, but rather chose to give trust to someone who had earned it.

  They reached the trapdoor, and Hood made a hand gesture to tell Linus he would open the hatch while Linus advanced on Kylie. The teen had already met him. She would be less traumatized to find him in her hidey-hole than a stranger. But when Hood leveraged the door open, and Linus shined his light down onto the pallet, it was empty.

  Linus glanced up at him. “She’s not here.”

  “Yeah,” Hood said, nostrils flared. “She is.”

  He jumped down and began a search of the sleeping area. He was less worried about respecting her personal space than Linus had been, under the circumstances, and he located a second trapdoor when he pushed the pallet aside.

  Waiting for Linus to join him, Hood assumed the same position and tugged the trapdoor open.

  The space beneath was a simple square room with a mini-fridge, a microwave, and enough jugs of water to last one person a week or more. Kylie sat at a table made from an old Coke crate, her face illuminated by an electric camping lantern. An ancient formula can held plastic utensils, and she selected a fork as he watched. His presence finally registered, and she paused with a scoop of macaroni and cheese from a microwaveable cup halfway to her mouth.

  With the ease of long practice, he donned his Professor Woolworth mask, his least intimidating persona. One he had designed and refined over time to put his students, just a few years older than her, at ease.

  “Kylie,” he soothed in the tone he reserved for spooked familiars, “you need to come with me.”

  Thanks to the light from her electric lantern, Linus witnessed the first tear fall. “What’s happened?”

  The girl’s leap straight to worst-case scenarios told him she was more informed than she had let on.

  “Your grandparents…” He struggled to form a proper condolence when no matter what he said, it would ruin her. “They were killed last night.”

  “No, no, no.” She dropped her face into her hands. “This can’t be happening.”

  In the end, there was only one thing to say. “I’m sorry.”

  For the second time in his life, he watched a young girl’s world crumble to dust at her feet, and he mourned the loss of her innocence as he had with Grier.

  “They used to let me play down here as a kid. It was my secret lair. I had no idea that they…” She rocked back and forth. “They told me to get out.” She sobbed. “They told me to…”

  Slowly, Linus climbed into the space with her. “Kylie, we need to move you somewhere safe.”

  Their new proximity allowed him to send tendrils of his magic questing toward her, but she read as human to him, making the vampires’ interest in her family even more peculiar.

  “I told them I would stay until after…” She hiccupped. “I can’t break that promise.”

  “What do you know about the haunting?” Linus settled onto the floor in lotus position so that he didn’t loom over the seated teen. “Tell me the truth this time.”

  Dust sifted down onto his shoulders from the overhead gap, and Kylie skittered against the back wall.

  “Who’s there?” She brought her knees to her chest. “Who’s with you?”

  “A friend.” Linus held up his hands, including the one with the sigil. “Hood?”

  Moving carefully, Hood ducked his head in and waved. “Hey, Kylie.”

  “W-w-what’s wrong with your hands?” White shone around the edges of her eyes as comprehension punched through her grief. “They’re glowing.”

  “Magic,” Linus said simply.

  “What are you?” She shrank into a ball. “You’re not demons.” She squinted at them. “Right?”

  “We’re something else.” Linus saw no reason to get into the specifics. “We’re the good guys.”

  “How do I know that?” She wet her lips. “What are you doing here? Really?”

  “He really brought his new bride on a ghost-hunting excursion,” Hood said without moving. “She’s got a thing for haunted history, so he thought solving the mystery of this place would tickle her funny bone.”

  Kylie blinked a few times. “You’re one freaky strange dude then.”

  Linus smiled, not disagreeing. “How can we convince you that you’re safer with us than you are alone?”

  “I’m not safe anywhere unless I do my duty.” She uncoiled a bit. “I have to stay.”

  “Why?” Hood settled in with an open smile. “What’s so important that only you can do it?”

  “There’s a demon in the maze.” A shiver rolled through her. “It won’t come up as long as I’m here.”

  Hood kept his tone even. “How do you figure that?”

  “I’m an Oliphant.” Her shoulders straightened a fraction. “It’s scared of us.”

  Biblical demons were not creatures Linus had encountered. He didn’t know anyone reliable who had interacted with them, or angels either. Creatures suspected of those designations were routinely debunked by the Society after they had been captured, killed, or brought in for examination. With Faerie leaking into this world in slow degrees, there was no shortage of the strange and miraculous, and that didn’t touch on Earth’s natural wonders.

  Turning that over in his head, Linus asked, “The demon in the maze is separate from the shadow cats?”

  “Yes.” A flicker of hesitation marked her next words. “The shadow cats are guardians.”

  “They’re aggressive toward outsiders?”

  “Yeah.” She ducked her head. “That story I told you about when I was a kid wasn’t true.” She picked at her nails. “They’ve got a thing about the stairs. They hang out there a lot. Once a shadow cat did trip a guest. She fell and broke her leg.” She risked a glance up at him. “It sounded like the kind of thing you wanted to hear, so that’s what I told you.”

  The dart of her eyes, the careful phrasing, made him wonder if she wasn’t still attempting to read him.

  “Your grandparents took care of you. They loved you.” Linus regretted the fresh wash of tears down her cheeks, but he had to fill in the blanks. “Why did you lie to us about your homelife?”

  “They warned me,” she whispered, barely a sound. “Grams told me if…” She swallowed. “She told me if the worst happened, to take their emergency money and run.” A brittle apology tipped her mouth. “When you showed up flashing Benjamins, I figured the fatter my cushion, the more comfortable I would be until I got back to Mom.” She shrugged. “She’s in Oregon.” Her bottom lip trembled. “She hated it here, hated her parents too.” She squared her shoulders. “That’s why I can’t let Grams and Gramps down. I’m all they had left.”

  “I understand you want to honor their memories,” he countered, “but why stay down here? Why not move to a room upstairs? You’ll be safer there.”

  Barring the vampires in residence, of course.

  “The maze extends five more floors below this one. The demon has never escaped its room, but I can’t tell the shadow cats to stay and fight in case it does. They’ll just follow me out.”

  That, at least, explained how the shadow cats gained access to the house from the basement.

  “You’re the bait,” he realized, not for the demon itself but for its jailers.

  “Sure.” A frown gathered across her forehead. “I guess.”

  “This complicates things.” Linus shared a lingering glance with Hood. “Any ideas?”

  “Don’t talk over me like I’m not here.” Her voice trembled. “I’m not a dumb kid. I get a say in this.”

  “You’re in more danger than you know,” Linus warned. “We can’t, in good conscience, leave you.”

  “You don’t get a choice.” She reached behind her and drew a gun she pointed at him. The weapon shook in her grip, but she switched off the safety, and her finger brushed t
he trigger. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not going anywhere until this is over.”

  A sigil could put her to sleep, but he would have to get close to draw it on her, and he might not survive the attempt. Better to withdraw now than risk leaving with more holes than he arrived with, which would not amuse his wife.

  “All right.” Linus raised his hands. “If you feel that strongly about it, we’ll go.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed, more tears falling. “I’m sorry about this.”

  Careful not to spook her, Linus rose and climbed up to join Hood in her sleeping area.

  “Here’s my card.” He tossed it down to her. “Call if you change your mind.”

  Angling her body to keep the wobbly barrel aimed at them, she fumbled the card into her pocket.

  Linus kept his hands where she could see them. “Will you answer one more question before I go?”

  “It depends.”

  Fair enough. “Have you been to the library lately?”

  “Not since I was a kid.” Her confusion rang with honesty. “I read ebooks on my phone.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and left before her fear got the better of her.

  As Linus and Hood ascended to the basement, the door concealing Kylie slammed closed behind them.

  “The kid’s brave.” Hood exhaled once the danger had passed. “I’ll give her that.”

  “Determined too.” Linus shut the door leading into the subbasement. “I have the supplies for what we’ll need to extract her in my kit.”

  Hood took the pantry exit. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I have the proper herbs for a sleep potion. It’s vapor, not an ingestible. I can brew it, pour it into a thurible, and set it in the subbasement entrance. We can collect her once she’s unconscious. That way no one gets hurt.”

  “Brewing potions is witch territory, isn’t it?”

  “This particular blend is one necromancers employ during voluntary resuscitations.”

  “No offense to you or to Grier, but I don’t get it.” Hood let them into the kitchen proper. “How does a person of sound mind and body decide it’s prime time to get murdered and brought back as a bloodsucker?”

  “Humans will do anything for more time.” A smile curved his mouth. “Even give up what they have left.” He shut the basement and pantry doors behind them. “You have fae blood. You’ll live ten times what the average human will or more. You’ll live twice as long as Grier and me.”

  Old creatures had trouble weighing time. It slid through their fingers like water. Only mortals clutched at each individual drop rather than let it fall.

  Hood twitched his shoulders as if discussing age made him uncomfortable. “Do we have to worry about your concoction?”

  “No,” Linus murmured, resting his hand on the pantry knob. Fingers drumming, he considered his options. “It only affects humans.”

  Gwyllgi from both Hood’s and Lethe’s bloodlines were half gwyllgi and half warg. Wargs were half human and half wolf, but gwyllgi were half fae and half creature. Both possessed too little human blood for it to bother them.

  “You don’t have to worry about locking her in,” Hood said, reading him easily. “She pulled a gun on you to win a standoff, yeah, but she doesn’t strike me as malicious.” He washed up and dried his hands. “More like desperate. Her grandparents might have loved her, but they messed with her head too.”

  As his mother’s sole heir, Linus recognized the Oliphants had groomed Kylie to step into their role, whether she realized it or not. And he understood the crushing weight of obligation that came with it.

  But what, exactly, did their duties to the creature they believed their ancestor entombed entail?

  “There must be more to it.” Linus scrubbed his hands. “Her presence alone, even with the shadow cats, wouldn’t deter a creature worthy of this construct. She’s keeping secrets.”

  Before dusk, they needed answers, and there was only one place to get them.

  “We need to return to the Oliphants’.” Linus claimed a bottle of water from the fridge, passed it to Hood, then selected another for himself to wash the dust down his throat. “Kylie claims this is a family tradition, which means the information is getting passed down through one medium or another.”

  “The tapes and photos might be the extent of it. Oral traditions are common for this sort of thing.”

  Hunter families often took their secrets to the grave. Hood was right about that. Without knowing more about the Oliphants, it was hard to decide where they fell on the spectrum of indoctrinated humans.

  “Kylie believes she’s all that’s standing between a demon and its escape.” Linus unslung his kit from his shoulder and rested it on the counter. He flipped it open then arranged his supplies, including a resin and bone thurible hung from a silver chain. Certain he had all he required, he selected a pot to heat the ingredients. “The Oliphants, the later generations at least, might not have been indoctrinated into our world beyond their small corner if they believed that was true.”

  Humans accepted angels and demons without much fuss, but the shadow cats weren’t common lore. In fact, he had no idea what they might be without further study. There was too much overlap in such areas to be certain from a glance. Or a scratch.

  “The religious angle,” Hood agreed. “Their home was decked out in Catholic paraphernalia. They might have shared the burden with their priest.”

  “Or they might have feared confession would get them excommunicated and kept silent.”

  Religion often wasn’t the most forgiving institution, despite tenets espousing the contrary.

  With the brew simmering, Linus turned the stove on low, covered the pot, and gestured to Hood. They returned to the cottage in silence befitting the tomb it had become for its former inhabitants.

  Linus wiped off the sigil sealing the house, and the magic dissipated in a rush of stale air. This time when they opened the door, the scent of decomposition curdled Linus’s stomach, and he wished he had taken a deep breath on the porch.

  No matter how often he had been in the presence of violent death, he never got used its sensory horrors. He hoped he never did. No one whose duty was to stand for victims should become numb to their plight.

  “The vampires had the advantage of knowing what they were searching for,” he said, “but they still had no luck.”

  “Let’s see if ours is any better,” Hood sighed, his gaze drawn to the dead, and began to search.

  Kylie had given them a place to start with the family-history angle. It was more than they’d had on their last visit. But it didn’t explain the vampires’ interest in the house, its resident haunts, or its caretakers.

  From all appearances, they had killed Mr. Oliphant in a fit of temper. Linus had to believe that meant the vampires left empty-handed. But what had they wanted from these people? Had the Oliphants even known vampires existed? Or had they assumed the couple were demons come from hell?

  All he knew for certain was the Rogoffs had gone through a lot of trouble to worm their way into the inn. They wanted to be present for the murderversary—tonight—but why?

  Hood and Linus scoured the cottage from top to bottom, finding more than one secret cubby Mr. Oliphant hadn’t given up since their contents remained neat and organized. Paperwork in a large safe hidden under the floors contained the deed to the cottage, the inn, and the enormous land parcel where both sat. There were also stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills, more than enough to fund Kylie’s return to her mother.

  But there was no damning evidence to explain what, exactly, the demon in the basement was or how it claimed its victims. There was no family grimoire or history or documentation to indicate how the Oliphants had become the custodians of the demon or how they learned of its existence in the first place.

  “They kept no records.” The lack amazed Linus. “Theirs must be a completely oral history.”

  “Whatever bedtime stories Kylie was hearing at night, they didn�
��t prepare her for this.” Hood flipped through another photo album then set it aside. “The poor kid is in over her head and sinking fast.”

  “This might explain the vampires’ escalation from previous cycles.” Linus identified a packet at the bottom of the pile with a realtor’s logo on the front. A quick check confirmed his suspicions. “The Oliphants wanted out, or they wanted to get Kylie out.” He showed Hood the signed contract dated last week. “They sold the property.”

  “That would definitely snatch a knot in their tails.” Hood tugged on one of the sandy-blond strands that had fallen over his shoulder. “Introducing themselves to you and Grier was a gamble. Killing on the property while you’re in residence? That’s suicide.”

  “Yet they thought it was worth the risk.”

  “If we’re right, and the Oliphants had no supernatural connections, they had no idea who you two are.” His gaze drifted toward the bodies. “But there’s not a necromancer or vampire alive who doesn’t know Grier’s name.” His focus shifted. “Or yours.”

  The reminder gave him chills, and the void howled in his core, craving vengeance he would never taste for the harm dealt to Grier.

  Lacroix and Odette had made certain before their deaths to expose her gifts to the Society. As rare as goddess-touched necromancers were, she would never fully escape the spotlight, no matter how much time passed. Thanks to that final bit of cruelty, there would always be those who coveted her, and her powers.

  The truth was, as much as it pained him to admit it, Grier was no longer safe outside of Savannah, where their allies were only a phone call away. Her connection to the land, to the city itself, also protected her. This far from home, she didn’t have that. As much as he wanted Grier to himself, he was grateful Cletus, Lethe, and Hood had invited themselves along.

  For the most part.

  “This can’t be about Grier.” Linus spoke out loud, as if voicing his hope made it true. “No one knew we were coming here except for the two of you, Mother, and Neely.”

  Woolly, Oscar, and Cletus had also known, of course, but they were above reproach and uncorruptible.