How to Wake an Undead City

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How to Wake an Undead City Page 16

by Edwards, Hailey

Thanks to Lacroix, many of the sentinels I had intended to treat hadn’t survived to indulge.

  “You okay?” Lethe straightened. “You’re not going to faint again, are you?”

  “No.” I took the opportunity to put a foot of space between us. “I was thinking about the sentinels.”

  “I shouldn’t have eaten their donuts.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m a monster.”

  This time, she lifted the hem of her shirt to blow her nose, and I scrambled away from her bulge.

  “You don’t have to sit so far away.” She wiped her cheeks. “I’m not going to eat you.”

  “Your stomach.” Her belly was taut like she had swallowed a basketball. “How much did you eat?”

  “Oh, that.” She glanced down. “She grows a little more every day. That’s how this works.”

  “Linus.” I heard the shrill note in my voice, and so did Hood, who shot upright. “You need to get over here.”

  “I’m coming,” Hood rasped. “Move aside, Lawson.” On hands and knees, he crawled the six feet between them and plunked down on the floor at her feet, looking puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

  “That.” I pointed at her navel. “That’s what’s wrong.”

  “You’re freaking me out.” Crimson washed over Lethe’s eyes. “Start making sense. Right now.”

  “May I?” Linus indicated her baby bump. “Fair warning, my hands are cold.”

  Lethe stared at her lap. “If it will wipe that look off her face, go ahead.”

  Linus almost succeeded in hiding his reaction when she recoiled from his icy touch, but not from me.

  “That’s actually kind of nice.” Lethe relaxed beneath his hands. “I bet you come in really handy during the summer.”

  Willing to play along, he found a smile for her. “I have my uses.”

  “The baby?” Hood prompted. “What’s wrong with my girls?”

  “Nothing as far as I can tell.” Linus covered Lethe’s stomach with her shirt then stood. “I felt the baby kick, which is a good—if puzzling—sign.” At Hood’s look, he clarified. “Spontaneous fetal movement begins at eight weeks, but the fetus is too small for it to be noticeable. Most first-time mothers experience the sensation eighteen to twenty-two weeks into their pregnancy. I’m not sure if that timetable holds true for gwyllgi, but wargs and humans have the same gestation period.”

  “Eighteen to twenty-two weeks?” Hood choked on his tongue. “Are you telling me she’s five months pregnant?”

  “Developmentally, as near as I can tell, yes.”

  “We’ll be parents in four months.” The color drained from his face. “Sooner, at this rate.”

  “We’ll still get to be parents.” Lethe leaned down and kissed his pale cheek. “That’s what matters.”

  “We need to get a healer or a physician in-house to monitor you.” I cupped her knee and jiggled her leg to get her attention. “Do you have any other contacts in the area?” I hated to ask, but it was careless not to take advantage of the resources at her disposal. “Can your mom send someone?”

  “I’ll make the call.” Lethe glowered at me. “But I won’t be happy about it.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I have to think how to phrase this just right. Otherwise, she’ll pop up on your doorstep, and nobody—and by nobody, I mean me—wants that to happen.”

  “I’ll leave you to it.” I rose and cut a line straight for the back porch where I dropped onto the swing. Eager for a distraction, I checked my messages and found one waiting from a jeweler in Atlanta. About to read his reply, I noticed I wasn’t alone. “Hey.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” Linus stood in the doorway. “You saved the child, and Lethe.”

  “I mashed fast-forward on her pregnancy. At this rate, she’ll be in labor in two months.”

  “You performed a miracle, not cast a curse.”

  “Miracle is a loaded word.” I didn’t fuss when he sat next to me. “Don’t put the weapon in my hand. The first time it misfires, the villagers come after you with torches and pitchforks.”

  “You have a fixation with torches and pitchforks.”

  “I watched a lot of classic monster movies with Amelie when we were kids. Those mob scenes set unrealistic expectations. Like those eighties flicks that led an entire generation to believe quicksand would be the greatest danger they faced as adults.” I held up my phone. “I’ve seen the memes. I know what I’m talking about here.”

  “Do you think it’s possible you’re fixating on Lethe to avoid thinking about what Boaz told us?”

  “The thought crossed my mind. I squished it like a bug.”

  Silent laughter twitched his shoulders, but his expression held worry. “You don’t have to go.”

  “You’re not going alone.” No matter what, that remained true.

  “Grier…”

  “Linus…”

  He gathered my hands and brought them into his lap. “You need to take this seriously.”

  “I have to laugh or I’ll cry, and I don’t want to fall apart.” I let the chill of his skin numb my rising terror. “We don’t have the time to glue me back together again. Neither does Savannah.”

  “I don’t want you to go back there.” He tightened his grip. “I have an excellent memory. I could—”

  “I want to see the collection for myself.” I wished I could wipe the cold sweat off my palms, but Linus was holding on too tight. “We can’t guess what books we’ll need. There are too many, and one person can’t skim them all in time.” I wet my lips. “With Savannah under siege and Lacroix poised to breach the Lyceum, we might go down in history as the first special exceptions awarded for civilian visitation to the Athenaeum.”

  “All right.” He bobbed his head once. “All right.”

  The porch light dimmed, and Woolly’s wards thrummed with staccato annoyance.

  “I wanted to check on Grier,” Boaz called. “Everything okay in there?”

  “I’m good.” I got to my feet and went to greet him, me on the stairs, him safe on the lawn. “I had an involuntary response to our upcoming trip, that’s all.”

  “Our trip?” Muscle bulged in his jaw as he grinded what he really wanted to say to dust. “Our trip. Yeah. Okay.” He wiped a hand over his mouth. “Okay.”

  Color me surprised that he handled the news so well. Sure, he was turning a shade of rage-fueled purple that made me worry for his blood pressure, but he kept swallowing every no-doubt-belligerent comment balanced on his tongue until he got them all down.

  “I’ll put in the request,” Boaz decided. “I’m familiar with the location, the staff, and the procedures. I can ask if the interim commander has any objections to my acting as escort since it’s my job to keep tabs on you.”

  The reminder set my own molars scraping, but there was no point in arguing for his reassignment when the sentinels’ ranks had been so heavily depleted. After this, he would have no time to act as my shadow. “How soon can we leave?”

  The truth was, I was putting on a brave face, but I worried it might crumble if we waited too long.

  The rumble of engines and snap of doors slamming caught my attention.

  “Linus.” Hood stuck his head out, spotted us. “You have guests.”

  “The artists.” Linus drew me to my feet using our joined hands. “Come meet them?”

  Boaz noticed my hesitation and volunteered. “I’ll come around front.”

  We passed through Woolly, whose lights burned brighter with her curiosity, and met four women and two men on the lawn. Their styles ranged from jeans and tees to pink tutus over orange fishnets to a button-down shirt with a black satin vest. The art adorning their bodies was just as varied and vibrant as the people wearing them.

  “Tatters.” Linus projected his voice from the top step. “I’d like to introduce you to Grier Woolworth, my fiancée.”

  A round of cheers and applause moved through the small gathering.

  “Grier, this is Bo, Jean, Jean Too, Lao, DeShawn, and Ri
ngo.”

  These people had come a long way to do us a favor, so I focused on that spark of gratefulness to find a genuine smile for them.

  “Welcome to Savannah, and to Woolworth House.” I met them on the grass. “It’s great to meet you all.” I set out down the stone path leading to the carriage house and waved for them to follow. “I’ll show you to your rooms, and your temporary shop.”

  The fit was tight for six people plus their customers, but I had overheard Linus and Mary Alice breaking them into shifts of three prior to their arrival. That would help cut down on the crush of bodies. Any spillover would have to end up at Woolworth House, which I wanted to avoid if at all possible, and so did Woolly.

  “If there’s a piece of equipment you need but can’t find, or if you run low on supplies, just come to the main house. Someone is there at all times. Ask for Amelie, and she’ll get in touch with us.”

  “I should supervise the initial stages.” Linus brushed his lips over mine. “I’ll also be instructing the artists on how to safely modify the insomnia tattoos. That might take some time.”

  Unable to help myself, I ran my fingers through his hair. “Becky would appreciate you looking out for the other sentinels.”

  “Coordinate with Hood and Boaz,” he said, never one to accept praise easily. “Once you decide on a plan of action, I’ll be ready to go.”

  Breaking away from him, I located Boaz near the front gate. On my way, I chose the first two sentinels I came in contact with and handed them over to him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced between them and me. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

  “You’re out of your mind if you think you’re helping with the Lacroix situation without a tattoo.” I shoved him toward the carriage house. “Trust me. It’s saved my life, or at least my freedom, more times than I can count.”

  Mouth tight, he led the others to get their tattoos, leaving me to respond to the jeweler in peace.

  The attached image blurred until I had to blink my vision clear and focus on the details.

  “Mom is sending her healer.” Lethe took the phone out of my hand. “What’s got you sniffly?”

  “Give me that.” I grabbed for her, but she was gwyllgi-fast. “You can’t just butt into my texts.”

  “Oh, wow.” Her eyes went glassy with emotion. “He doesn’t know?”

  “He doesn’t know.” Using her distraction, I snatched it back. “Don’t tell him.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  While I appreciated the sentiment, I highly doubted that was physically possible for Lethe’s food portal.

  “Keep them that way.” I pointed a warning finger at her. “I’m going upstairs. I need to get started on a new sigil design.”

  The spot between my shoulders itched as she watched me go. She wasn’t buying that was the reason, and she was right, but it was one of them.

  Once I was alone, I shut the door and used privacy sigils to make sure no one disturbed me.

  I had a plan, and claiming Eileen from her perch, I set about hammering out the details.

  Nine

  Linus found me an hour and a half later. Dawn was behind us, and I was fading. From the patient expression on his face, I suspected he had come to me much sooner, but if he knocked, I hadn’t heard. That was the point of the wards. But through them, there was a…I’m not sure how to describe it. I sensed him in the hall, like an invisible string wrapped around my heart had received a firm tug.

  He noticed the grimoire first, smelled the blood ink in the air second. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Just because you stopped giving me lessons doesn’t mean I’ve become a total slouch.”

  Eileen kept drawing his interest, but he didn’t press me for details. “Did you speak to Boaz?”

  “I got sidetracked.” I tucked my pen into my pocket. “Did you tattoo Boaz?”

  “I did.”

  “You’re really not going to ask?” I grasped his wrist, checking his pulse. “It’s killing you. I can tell.”

  “You locked yourself away for a reason. I assumed if you wanted to share that reason, you would, when you were ready.”

  “I wasn’t hiding from you.” It needed saying. “Anything you want to know, all you have to do is ask. I’m an open book for you.” I pressed my hand against his chest. “I hope you can tell me anything too.”

  “Since you feel that way…” He eyed the grimoire. “What were you doing up here?”

  “Putting all those hours of tutelage to good use.” I patted Eileen’s cover. “I’ve cobbled together a few sigils from my genetic memory to create a mental vault.”

  The interest vanished, replaced by wariness. “Playing with minds is dangerous.”

  “The idea is to form a temporary short-term memory pocket where I can store things until I can write them down.”

  Understanding struck him, but he couldn’t erase the proud glint in his eyes. “Clever.”

  “Necessity being the mother of all invention and whatnot.” I shrugged. “We get one shot at the Marchand collection. One shot before Savannah runs out of time. If I can do this, if it works, it’s the best chance we’re going to get to nail Lacroix.”

  For Lacroix to wear a medallion as protection, I must be able to take him down with my magic just as easily as I killed other vampires. Or maybe I could break his compulsion over his minions. But, and it was a big but, we had to get past its magic before I could work my own.

  There was no time to read and absorb every word on every page in every book.

  This one time, hopefully with Linus’s blessing, I was going to cheat on my homework.

  But for now, I was ready to trade sigils for snuggles and get some shut-eye.

  * * *

  That night we received our special dispensation via Boaz, who had been approved to act as our guide through the bowels of Atramentous, and while I was grateful for a friendly face to show us the way, I couldn’t deny part of me was hurt he had been stationed there and never told me. I’m not sure why when he had kept so many secrets.

  Adelaide, for instance.

  On our way out the front door, I noticed the carriage house was full to bursting with sentinels wearing Saniderm patches over their fresh tattoos to quicken the healing process. I was sure, in a day or two, a sigil would finish the process, but for now the clear material kept out dirt, germs, and pretty much everything else.

  The usual joking was absent. So was the horseplay I expected to see when so many of them gathered. A tension thrummed through the crowd, and more than one face wore an expression that made it clear they considered the tattoos as memorials.

  Given the fact our all-access pass only covered three, I expected Hood to stay behind.

  I really should have known better.

  “Boaz, you’re with me,” Hood called, jangling the van keys. “We’re all playing so nice together, I don’t want to jinx it.”

  Woolly flapped her shutters before I climbed off the porch, a summoning I couldn’t ignore.

  The others went ahead while I lingered with an arm wrapped around the nearest column. “What’s up?”

  A stack of photos flipped through my mind: a starless night, a dripping sink, mold on the caulk in the shower.

  “Trust me, if there was another way, I would take it. I don’t want to go back, but I have to do this.”

  “I’m with Woolly,” Amelie said softly from behind me. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “It’s the only one we’ve got that stands any chance of working.” I shifted to face her. “Linus will be there. Boaz too. They’ll get me out again, and all in one piece.”

  Twisting the fabric of her tee, she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You’re already doing it. You’re keeping an eye on Woolly, and you’re working your butt off to make sure supplies get where they’re needed most.”

  “It doesn’t feel big enough.” She smoothed her hands down the wrinkled material,
shut her eyes. “Big is what gets me in trouble.” She squared her shoulders. “I can do small.”

  Proud she was learning to rein in her ambition, I clamped a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “I owe you.” Her smile was fleeting. “I’m still paying that debt.”

  Aware the others were waiting, I had to let it go. “Call if anything happens.”

  Woolly’s senses trailed over me as I took the stairs, and she waved her door as I climbed in the van.

  Despite the years I had spent in Atramentous, I had no clue where it was located. Grief had blinded me after my sentencing. I had gone numb, unable to believe I was alone again, and unable to fathom what awaited me. The exit hadn’t gone any better. The lingering drugs in my system kept the edges too hazy for me to recall much of anything. In some ways, it was like I stepped out of the medical ward and onto my lawn. But there was a flight in there somewhere, and a taxi home.

  “I handled all the arrangements.” Linus studied my face. “We’ll be there and back within nine hours.”

  “Four hours with the collection?” Through the buzzing in my skull, I thought I remembered hearing that number somewhere. “Any idea how many titles?”

  “Forty-eight individual volumes, plus thirty-two journals and assorted notes indexed for reference.”

  “We’re going to need more than one extra vault to hold that.” I couldn’t imagine it all fitting in my head. “I wonder if one person can wear more than one sigil. Compartmentalize, I mean.”

  “Using the sigil once is dangerous enough.” Linus gave me his best professorial look. “It’s untested, and its origins are a genetic database of memory we have no means of validating except as you rediscover each design. There’s so much we don’t know about the goddess-touched condition.” A smile got the best of him, and he indulged. “The sigils in your head connect and reconnect in organic ways as unique as your individual thought process, and you have proven time and time again your instincts are solid.”

  “Trusting my gut where magic is concerned has worked out so far.” I fidgeted in my seat, wishing it was as accurate in other areas of my life. “However, I will allow that I haven’t warped anyone’s brain.” I frowned, considering. “That I’m aware of.”

 

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