“I get no respect,” Milo pouted in his own voice. “None.”
“Thank you, Milo,” I said obligingly, “for offering to help.”
“You didn’t mention my big, strong man brain, but it’s still more credit than these losers give me.” With a final sniff, he blacked his screen.
“They like you.” Linus took my hands and drew me to my feet. “I knew they would.”
“They’re loyal to you.” I cozied against him when he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Anything they’re feeling for me is spillover from that. They want to help me, because it helps you.” I rose on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “They see you too, Linus. They know you’re a good man, and they trust you to lead them.”
The sigh he pushed out wasn’t agreement, but at least it wasn’t argument either. Maybe he was starting to come around to the idea he was more than he ever imagined himself to be, and that it had nothing to do with his money, his name, or his titles. He was a remarkable man because of his heart, his mind, and the simple kindness and thoughtfulness that came so easily to him.
How the Grande Dame managed to raise him boggled the mind. Then again, he had more or less raised himself, with help from her staff. Not that he would admit it, but that fit too. He had made himself what he was, and what he was, I found extraordinary.
Clem, never a fan of PDA, grunted, “How do I track pulp-for-face?”
The failed vampire assassin had been released back into the wild with trackers in his clothes and on his person. Bishop had taken care to plant one or two for him to find so he would begin to relax, thinking he was in the clear. As expected, he located and smashed the obvious devices. However, he missed one. As long as it kept going, I wouldn’t have to resort to bleeding for answers.
“He isn’t moving.” Linus pulled up an aerial map of the city with a red dot blinking over an apartment building that had seen better days. “Either he hasn’t been contacted with a new assignment, or he’s afraid to get caught out in the open.” The tracking sigil would have terminated if, well, he had been terminated. “He knows it won’t look good for him walking out of here alive. He won’t even be able to tell them where here is, which means he has no bargaining chip to earn his way back into their good graces.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Clem offered, settling in. “Might as well be productive.”
The pack hadn’t extended an invitation to cover three, so we weren’t risking a plus one.
Leaving Clem to amuse himself in the control room, Linus and I got in the van he expertly guided into the early traffic already promising a miserable morning commute.
Smoothing my thumb over my phone’s screen, I wondered, “How long do we have?”
“Between twenty minutes and three hours,” he said, smiling, “depending on construction, the number of wrecks, lane and ramp closures, and general congestion.”
How the prospect of sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic made his eyes dance was beyond me.
Ignoring his obvious love for this city, a skill I was perfecting the longer he stayed in Savannah with me, I dialed up a guaranteed distraction, hoping she might offer us insight into the pack’s militarization tactics now that my tactical-minded other half was present for consulting.
“I don’t like this,” Lethe growled in my ear from the comfort of my couch in Woolworth House after I explained the situation. “I talked to Mom yesterday, and she didn’t breathe a word about this. When the pack goes on the offensive, it’s protocol to alert all members, even those not in residence. Especially the freaking beta. She slipped this past me on purpose, which means she wanted to get the drop on you. I can’t advise you if I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
“Do you think Linus is in any danger?”
A snort escaped her. “Not with you by his side.”
The flare of pride at being considered formidable by a predator of her caliber gave me a case of the warm and fuzzies. “I protect what’s mine.”
“Pups.” She sniffled. “They grow up so fast.”
“I’m not actually a puppy.” Though I wasn’t sure how long gwyllgi lived, or how old Lethe and Hood were for that matter. With fae in their lineage, they could be old. Seriously old. “I’m a grown woman.”
“How were you not born gwyllgi?” As usual, she totally ignored me. “You’ve got the killer instinct and the stomach for it.”
The abundance of compliments made me wonder if pregnancy hormones weren’t to blame for her effusive, by Lethe standards, praise. But I wasn’t stupid enough to even hint I might suspect as much.
Since the clock was ticking, I asked, “Can I talk to your other half?”
“Sure.” Without putting down the receiver, she yelled, “Hood. Grier wants to talk to you.”
A few seconds later, ears ringing, I overheard his hello kiss to his mate then he answered, “Hey.”
“We might have a problem.” Briefly, I outlined the issues. “I told Lethe, but she seems…”
“Like she’s caught a case of the weepy-gooeys?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it called that, but sure. She’s sniffling and very mushy.”
“It’s probably the H word neither of us are dumb enough to use. Otherwise, she seems fine.”
A peculiar note in his tone had me asking, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“She attempted to knit the baby a pair of booties.”
“Aww. That’s sweet.”
“She got mad at the yarn, muttered something about it defying her, and hurled it across the room. It kind of…hit the birdcage.”
“Oh goddess.” I pressed a hand over my heart. “Is Keet okay?”
He might be undead, but he still had feelings.
“Lethe has been watching old Disney movies with him so he doesn’t get lonely. The yarn was this off-white shade, and I guess he decided to reenact that scene with the two dogs and the spaghetti?”
I dropped my head into my hands. “And?”
“He bit off a long string and offered it to Lethe. Except, she didn’t take it. She opened the cage and made a grab for him. It scared him so bad, he dropped the string and flew past her. But he saw the ball of yarn on the floor and snagged the loose end.”
“Go on.” I sighed. “Tell me the rest.”
“He flew around the chandelier a few times and now it looks like drunk teens TP’d the whole thing. And while he was up there, out of reach, he might have eaten several inches of yarn. We lured him down with lunch meat, but he’s been pooping string ever since. We didn’t know if we should just let it kind of hang there or cut it—”
“Dowhateveryouthinkisbest,” I blurted in a rush to avoid hearing more details. “I trust your judgment.”
A tiny roar belted out in the background, and Hood cleared his throat. “They’re watching The Lion King.”
“Tell Lethe to keep an eye on him. He might decide Scar is cooler than Simba, and then we’ll all be in trouble.”
“Your bird farted.” He paused. “Can they do that?”
“Just how much yarn did he eat?”
“He’s a warthog,” Lethe yelled in the background. “Tapumba? Pumon? I can’t remember.”
“Gassy warthogs are better than homicidal lions,” I decided. “But I’m really going now. We can’t afford to be late.”
Pressing the end button, I drew in a breath and nearly jumped out of my skin when Linus touched my shoulder.
Searching my face, he must have read my exhaustion, which was only partially to blame on lack of sleep. “Did Lethe offer any insight?”
“Not so much. But she did let Keet eat an undetermined amount of yarn, and she’s apparently taught him to fart like a cartoon warthog. Those two things do not mix well, and I worry about the state of the house when we return. Woolly may need to be decontaminated after this.”
“The appeal of the needles I could understand,” he said, his eyebrows winging higher, “but yarn? Lethe attempted to knit?”
“We need to introduce her to Etsy,” I decided. “Let her buy what she wants from qualified crafters able to do the job with minimum casualties.”
“Just make sure you set her up an account first. Don’t give her access to yours.”
Unable to resist, I leaned over and planted a smacking kiss on his forehead, right where his frown lines gathered. “I like you.”
“I first suspected when you asked me to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Backing away, I shook my head. “That was your first clue?”
“That was the first time it felt…” he said softly, “…real.”
Staring at the simple metal strand circling his finger, I felt ashamed all over again for not doing better by him. The man had bought a building for me, had taken steps to give me back some of what I had lost by urging me to start my own ghost tour company, and I had given him…a bread tie. “Linus?”
There was a slight hesitation I hoped to one day erase. “Yes?”
“You’re not getting rid of me.”
The earnestness of his expression when he glanced over at me tore at my heart. “I hope not.”
“Hope has nothing to do with it. I proposed, you accepted. You’re stuck with me. For life.”
“Mine.” The wonder of it flavored his tone. “For life.”
“Yep.” I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed his ring finger. “All mine. For-basically-ever.”
Five
The den of the Atlanta gwyllgi pack was and wasn’t what I expected. Lethe and Hood were happy to shift and sleep out in the woods in Savannah. That seeded the expectation they were used to roughing it. Though I’m not sure you could call it that when their primal souls were most at peace in the outdoors. And, being from the city, they were taking full advantage of having acreage to run and hunt at their leisure.
But the Atlanta pack paid homage to both sides of their dual natures. A modern glass and metal sculpture some might call a house rose from a lawn that would have made this address the pride and joy of any homeowners’ association. Its ruthless uniformity must have required gardeners to get down on their hands and knees to measure the individual blades. Beyond the house, an overgrown meadow sprawled, its wild carpet leading into a forest thick with trees and heavy with undergrowth.
For the first time, I understood why Atlanta was sometimes called a city in the forest.
Given the dress code, I assumed Linus meant for us to conduct our business inside the sculpture, and he did park at the side of the house. But after he got the van door for me, we took a flagstone path cutting through the tame front property to brave the encroaching wilderness.
Unnerved by the sensation of so many unseen eyes on me, I struck up a conversation. “Do you often conduct business out here?”
“Tisdale prefers to meet downtown. Gwyllgi aren’t tolerant of outsiders in their personal space. I’ve only been invited to join her at the den once, the day after I assumed the position of potentate.”
“A power play.” Invite him out, show him the house that meant they had money and taste, the land that indulged their primal needs, and the somewhat isolated location that meant no one was getting through her sentries to offer help without her permission. “I assume it went well?”
“As well as can be expected, given the present circumstances.” The mask of Scion Lawson blanketed his features, and he looked at me through eyes gone distant. “Prepare yourself.”
Taking my cue from him, I donned my Dame Woolworth persona with more ease than I would like to admit. After working the ghost tour circuit, I had gotten entirely too comfortable with showing customers the face they wanted to see, even when they were shouting about refunds or the lack of ghosts.
The trek to our rendezvous point lent our procession the air of marching into battle, and I regretted the only weapon I had on me was the pocket knife I was never without. But power ran in my veins, and I was never defenseless as long as I had means to call it forth.
Eventually, a small seating area came into view. Pavers laid out a design a dozen feet in either direction of the slender woman swinging from an egg chair suspended from a gnarled limb over her head. I would have recognized her as Lethe’s mother, even without expecting to see her. Only a smattering of lines and freckles distinguished them from one another. That and the silver hair spilling around her shoulders. She wore a sleeveless top cut to fit her narrow build and capris I had no doubt had been tailored to her petite frame as well. Her feet were bare and dirty, but her nails matched her outfit. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a battered locket strung from a chain thick enough to be a collar.
“Ah.” She rose in a languid stretch of muscle designed to draw the eye, and it worked. I saw at once she was fit, trim, and in fighting shape. The color of her hair might date her, but age was only a number. This woman was in her prime. “You must be Grier.” Her gaze slid past my shoulder. “Linus, always a pleasure.”
“It’s good to see you, Tisdale. Thank you for welcoming us to your home.” Tone light, he smiled his Scion Lawson smile. Polite. Empty. Bored. “The grounds are even lovelier than I recalled from my last visit.”
“We have five students enrolled in Auburn University’s College of Agriculture. Thanks to their education, we have a farm, gardens, and a landscaping business.” Pride widened her smile. “The teens even started a lawn care service to earn money during the summer months.”
Appearing mildly interested, he nonetheless made a sound of approval. “You’re diversifying.”
“We’re only carnivores half our lives. The rest of the time, we enjoy our fried green tomatoes like every other Southerner.” She indicated a stone bench for us to sit on while she reclaimed her much comfier chair. “But you’re not here to talk about our adventures in agriculture. You want to ask me for a favor.” Her assessing gaze swept over me. “And I wanted an opportunity to meet the woman my heir is so enamored with that she refused a summons home to remain by her side. I’m curious what about you inspires her loyalty when she has never given it to anyone else.”
Unhappy to find myself the center of her attention, I held firm and resisted the urge to fidget.
“I didn’t request for Lethe to remain in Savannah. I would never presume, given her status as your heir. But her mate insists he owes me a debt of honor, and I accepted their offer rather than insult the pack.”
A snarl churned up her throat, and her upper lip quivered with annoyance that dumped adrenaline in my veins.
“This isn’t you.” She pushed off the pavers with her toes to keep up the rocking motion. “Lethe wouldn’t align herself with a High Society mannequin. There’s more to you than glossy manners and a vacant smile, there must be. My daughter is a dominant, and she would only respect the same. Not this simpering façade of the Society ideal.”
Determined to be civil in the face of insult, I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Be yourself with me, as you are with her, and I’ll return the favor.” Tisdale forced eye contact. “Keep up the charade, and you’ll have to hope you can see through mine as easily as I saw through yours.”
Checking my intentions with Linus would give the appearance that he held sway over me, and a woman like Tisdale, an alpha, wouldn’t respect that. Holding her stare, I peeled off the mask and breathed a sigh of relief. And then I told her the truth.
“Your daughter is my friend because I feed her as much as she wants, whenever she wants.” Basically, a lot and often was the magic combination. “She’s memorized my debit card number and security code, so she mostly feeds herself and charges it to me. Sometimes she remembers to thank me. Sometimes I just find greasy receipts on the kitchen table as a heads-up so I won’t faint if I check my bank balance.”
Laughter rumbling through her chest, she smiled. “Now that sounds like my little girl.”
“I didn’t ask her to stay in Savannah, but I’m grateful she did. We need her. I need her.”
Expression unreadable, she pressed, “And m
y son-in-law?”
“Hood treats Lethe like a princess, and me like family. He’s one of the best men I know.”
“And the baby?” Leaning forward, she planted both feet on the ground. “Do you think I don’t know what you did?”
Unused to being frank about my gifts, I kept my mouth shut and let her tell me what she thought she knew.
“You saved my granddaughter’s life.” A liquid sheen covered her eyes. “You saved my daughter’s life too.”
“I made a mess of things.” Hit fast-forward on gestation in my fumbling attempt to save them both. “But I would do it again. In a heartbeat.”
A dominance fight could last until submission or death. It was left to the combatants to decide.
Ernst Weber, the gwyllgi who challenged Lethe for second in the pack, lost the fight after submitting, and then committed suicide by going for her gently swollen belly afterward. A move that had cost him his life, at my hands.
I healed Lethe, and through her, saved the baby, giving the unborn child a boost in the process. Much like Boaz and his regenerated leg, we had no clue what long-term effects to expect, but it mattered more to all of us that there would be a long term to worry about in the first place.
“I understand Hood made you pack because of the debt he feels is owed to you,” she said, “and that Lethe and Midas agreed to this unorthodox arrangement.”
Squaring my shoulders, I sat up straighter. “I am a member of the Kinase pack, yes.”
“A member of the Savannah Kinase pack at any rate,” she murmured. “Midas?”
Her golden child loped into the seating area from the forest with a reassuring smile for me.
She patted his arm when he came to stand beside her chair. “You claim this woman as pack?”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t.” Steel entered her voice. “Rebuke her. Sever her ties to the Atlanta pack, here and now. Her allies belong in Savannah, with her, not in Atlanta, with me.”
A tremor worked through his jaw, the damning words threatening to spill, but he held them in.
“Enough.” I leapt to my feet. “I’ll sever ties with the Atlanta pack if you want, but you leave him alone.” I couldn’t stop from glancing at his arms, those crosshatch scars that would never fade, from his skin or his memory. “I won’t let you inflict more pain on him, not on my account.”
How to Wake an Undead City Page 9