How to Claim an Undead Soul (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 2)

by Hailey Edwards

  The blood rushed from my cheeks, and I nodded. “I don’t want that for her, either.”

  The Society thrived on inventing foibles to tarnish the reputations of its members. Forcing Amelie to live with Linus would give them meat enough to feast on for years. She would never escape the shadow that cast over her viability as a potential match, not that she would have many options outside of human partners thanks to her disownment.

  “Woolly, you have to work with me here.” I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “We have to keep them both. We don’t have a choice.”

  The old house faked a case of selective hearing while dimming the lights in a muted but firm no.

  I reached up to worry the button on my necklace when it hit me I had a bargaining chip. “Boaz, can you wait outside a minute?”

  “Sure.” His fingers trailed down my arm before he joined his sister on the front porch swing.

  “I forgot to mention I made a new friend.” I rubbed the button like it was a lamp and Oscar a genie. Thanks to my connection with Woolly, a perception sigil wasn’t necessary to see when the boy popped into existence, rubbing his fists in his eyes and yawning. “Oscar, meet Woolly. Woolly, meet Oscar.” I removed the necklace and placed it on the mantle beside Maud’s remains. “Oscar wants to live with us, at least for a little while. What do you say to that?”

  The house reached out its magic to taste him, and Oscar burst into a fit of giggles.

  “It tickles.” His feet left the floor as laughter buoyed him. “Is she a ghost too?”

  “Something like that.” It was close enough to pass for the truth. “Well, Woolly?”

  The floorboards groaned, indecisive, but her lights kept brightening the higher he flew.

  That, more than anything, told me she was sold on the idea. She loved kids. She couldn’t help herself. That’s why she and I had bonded so deeply. In her own way, she had helped raise me. And Oscar was the same age as I was when Maud took me in. Nostalgia would do a lot of the heavy lifting for me with her.

  “I’m glad you’ve welcomed one of our guests.” Time to beat the dead horse. “But you still have to pick one of the other two to live with us.”

  The floor register sighed a tired acknowledgment.

  “Do you want Amelie?” I made it easy on her. “Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

  The lights winked out then came back and stayed on.

  “Thanks, girl.” I patted the nearest doorframe. “She’s been a good friend to us, and she needs us.”

  Woolly flipped a curtain to send me on my way while she instigated a game of hide-and-seek with Oscar.

  I joined Boaz and Amelie on the porch and gave them the good news. “Woolly has agreed to allow Amelie to stay.”

  “I knew the old girl wouldn’t let us down.” Boaz rubbed his hands over his face. “Thank you, Woolly.”

  Proving she could multitask where Boaz was concerned, even if he wasn’t totally forgiven, she flared the porch light in muted confirmation before I felt her attention slide back to Oscar.

  Amelie said nothing at all. She stared straight through me, her breaths slow and deep, like she was sleeping with her eyes open. I thought she might have gone into shock, but that didn’t change what was about to happen. She had to get tattooed to be made safe. Maybe the distance would help her the way retreating into my head spared me from immediate pain. What a miserable thing to be thankful for.

  “Everything is prepared,” Linus called from the safety of the yard. “Bring her into the kitchen, please.”

  Boaz helped her stand, and she walked on autopilot down the steps and through the gate into the garden. I held the door open while he guided her into the kitchen and sat her in the chair Linus indicated with a sweep of his arm. Pots of red ink with a peculiar black glitter sat on the table along with a squirt bottle of clear liquid and a few other supplies.

  Linus caught my eye. “Grier, can you step into the office for a moment?”

  “Sure.” I left Boaz to stand watch over his sister and joined Linus at the desk. “You just want me to draw what I see?”

  “Yes.” He pushed a worn sketchbook and a cup containing several black markers with tips ranging from extra fine point to bold toward me. “Use my design as a reference, but trust your instincts.”

  I labored over the design for an hour, incorporating extra flourishes when my gut told me to go for more detail, and I was proud of the final product. Homework still sucked, more some days than others, but I couldn’t argue with the end result.

  “This reminds me of a Celtic knot.” And a story Maud told me forever ago about using knots to confuse troubled spirits who would get lost following a thread and never find the end. Learning the same stories had inspired his work hardly surprised me. “What do you think?” I passed over the drawing, then I sat back and waited. “Too much?”

  “It’s perfect.” He traced the pattern with his finger while shaking his head. “Your mind is beautiful.”

  I flushed clear to the tips of my toes and escaped while he worked his mojo on the transfer.

  For the first time since the Cora Ann, I addressed Amelie. “Where do you want the tattoo?”

  Her eyes lifted to mine, but she wasn’t seeing me. She sat there, unblinking, until I looked away.

  “I can’t remember her ever wanting a tattoo.” I aimed the comment at Boaz. “Did she mention it to you?”

  “She talked about getting an infinity symbol for all of about five minutes after I got my first tattoo.” He searched his memories. “She was thinking about the inside of her ankle, but I warned her it would hurt like a sonofabitch.”

  “Do we try to give her what she wanted, or do we choose somewhere less sensitive?”

  “I have sigils I can use to lessen the pain,” Linus offered from the doorway. “It’s your choice.”

  Boaz ran a hand over his head, leaving hair sticking up in a stripe down the middle. “Can I see it first?”

  “Of course.” Linus held up the transfer paper. “Not many will guess what it does, but she can hide it with a sock if she’s self-conscious about it later.”

  “A reminder will do her good,” Boaz decided. “Let’s go for the ankle.” He took her hand and held it like she would have wanted him to if she were present. “Just…don’t hurt her more than you have to.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Linus vowed as he set to work.

  The tattoo slowly emerged as a filigree knot, shaded and bold and lovelier than any tattoo I had ever seen. The red ink made it stand out, and the black glimmer when light hit it gave it a shadowy appearance, like the tattoo was alive under her skin. Part of me wondered if that liveliness was Ambrose fighting his new constraints.

  Leaning over Linus’s shoulder to watch his vision unfold, I lost track of time, and then it was over.

  “I’m done.” Linus sat back and turned off his tattoo gun. “Let me clean it and wrap it.”

  Feeling like the other shoe was about to drop, I waited for the tattoo to do…something. But it didn’t do anything as dramatic as when Woolly detonated as her wards snapped into place. And the change in Amelie wasn’t as dramatic as when she was ripped from Ambrose. Maybe using Linus as a buffer between me and my sigils worked.

  After he pronounced her ready for bed, I noticed the spark of awareness trickling into her expression. I couldn’t say if it was the tattoo or simply time. She’d had hours to start processing what had happened. Maybe she was coming around on her own.

  Boaz helped her to her feet, and she swayed a bit, another sign of waking from her robotic trance.

  “Grier.” Linus gripped my wrist when I stood to join them. “The design we discussed?” He placed a hand above his hip, as if I needed reminding of his ward against LS and their persuasion. “It’s been registered.”

  “Already?” I sat back down. “Does this mean…?”

  “I’m warmed up.” He flexed his fingers. “I might as well.”

  “I need to get her to bed,” Boaz sai
d, hooking his arm around Amelie’s waist. “Do what you need to do. We’ll talk before I leave.”

  Leave, which was not the same as go home. The house next door might not wear that label anymore.

  “Okay.” I settled in the chair Amelie had vacated. “Make yourself at home while you wait.”

  The door closed behind them, and Linus lifted another sheet of transfer paper for my inspection. “The design has been refined. The only real difference is the ink I’m going to use. It’s created from blood taken from the avowal. Are you all right with that?”

  “The idea of having Volkov’s blood in me gives me the creeps.” A shiver rippled down my arms. “But I can’t deny it’s effective in warding off Last Seeds.” I blasted out a breath. “Let’s do this quick before I change my mind.”

  He smiled a little, probably used to first-time jitters. “Where do you want it?”

  “Artist’s choice?” I considered and then dismissed the idea of mirroring my tattoo to Amelie’s. As much as she resented me for having what she didn’t, I didn’t want her thinking I had to have what she did too. “I have no preference.”

  “Your shoulder?” He placed a latex-covered hand across the blade. “Spine?” He moved it toward the center. “Thigh?” He dropped it into his own lap. “Forearm? Upper arm? Wrist?”

  This was taking too long. I was starting to second-guess how badly I wanted a talisman inked into my skin. “You’re going to make me choose, aren’t you?”

  “It’s your body,” he said simply.

  “I live in tank tops and shorts. I don’t want it visible. I want to keep the element of surprise.”

  “We could do your hip or ribs,” he offered. “Lower back tattoos aren’t as popular these days.”

  I bet they hurt like crap too. “The tramp-stamp label ruined that one, huh?”

  While I turned the possibilities over in my mind, he set about sanitizing his workstation and getting ready for his next client. Me. After giving me several minutes to consider my options, he settled in to wait on my answer.

  “I want it on my spine, positioned between my shoulder blades.” That meant saying buh-bye to backless or low-cut dresses, but it’s not like I had any intentions of embracing the role of Society darling. “Right in the spot where it prickles when you’re being watched.”

  “All right.” He took a paper towel and his squirt bottle. “You’ll have to remove your shirt.”

  “No bra.” Though, to be honest, as the dawn approached, I became less and less concerned about nip slips. “Will this work?”

  I tugged the hem up my back and pulled it over my head while keeping my arms in the sleeves and my front concealed. I had worn more revealing swimsuits back in the day, but showing this much skin left me feeling vulnerable.

  “I can’t tattoo through the band, so this is perfect.” He traced a line from my nape to the center of my back with his fingertips, as though measuring the distance. “Your bones are so pronounced.”

  “I’m starting to develop a complex.” I twisted around to face him. “I get it. I need to put on weight.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He retraced the same path with a single finger. “This is going to hurt.” He stopped at the point where I had requested my tattoo. “Will you let me use the—?”

  “No sigils.” Dampness swamped my palms. “I want to feel it.”

  Pain kept you honest. Hurt made you real. Besides, I had a well-worn path to oblivion tread through my head if I needed a time-out.

  The first bite of the needle made me gasp. The others, and there were hundreds more, blended into a pleasant warmth that flooded across my shoulders and up my neck. Between the cool pressure of his hand on my back and the pecking sting heating my skin, I couldn’t help drifting. Not up the stairs into my mind, but to some deeper place where time ceased to exist and all my troubles fluttered away on butterfly wings.

  “This is a first for me.” Linus crouched in front of me, his palms cupping my rounded shoulders. He was all that kept me from sliding off onto the floor and curling up there for a nap. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned you fell asleep in my chair.”

  “Flattered,” I assured him, stifling a yawn. “What time is it?”

  “Around seven.”

  “Are we done here?” I tucked the front of the shirt tighter against my chest. “Can I see it?”

  “There’s a mirror in the bathroom…” He laughed under his breath. “But you already know that.”

  My bones creaked from prolonged slumping as I stood and cut a path around the stacked trunks to the downstairs bath and its generous vanity. Linus followed, switched his phone’s camera to selfie mode, and passed it to me to use in lieu of a second mirror.

  The bold design nestled against my spine, centered at the lowest points of my shoulder blades, right where my bra strap normally sat. The black limbs of the yew tree stretched through a crescent moon. Its tangled roots grew to form a circle that encompassed the topmost portion of the design. The overall effect was one of a paintbrush on skin, lending the design a traditional aspect that spoke to my roots, to all those weekends spent learning the craft at Maud’s knee. Shifting from side to side made the dark glitter catch the light, and I marveled at its beauty.

  “I would forget all this heir nonsense and tattoo full-time if I were you.” I met his eyes in the mirror. “This is amazing work. You’re a talented artist.”

  “I love it,” he said simply, leaving me to wonder if he meant the act of tattooing or this particular tattoo.

  I allowed myself one last gawking session. “Do you need to wrap me up like you did Amelie?”

  “Yes.” He waved me back into the kitchen. “Let me wipe it down, and I’ll tape a pad over it.”

  While I got cleaned up, I let my thoughts drift next door to Woolly. “Do you think Amelie will hate me when she realizes what I’ve done?”

  “I don’t know her well enough to guess.” His icy fingers slid over my skin, smearing ointment. “If she’s anything like her brother…” I felt the shrug in the upward jerk of his hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  He had been hunting her just as hard as Boaz, whether he knew it was her or not in the beginning. “Can I ask you something?”

  His exhale skated cool air across my shoulders as he affixed the sterile pad in place. “I thought you might.”

  “Why were you hunting the dybbuk? You’re the Grande Dame’s son. Even before her ascension, you were still the Lawson scion. This was a job for the Elite.” I glanced back at him. “How did you get involved?”

  “I’m a potentate.”

  I scrunched up my face at him. “A who-what now?”

  “The Society can’t maintain control throughout the United States with only my mother and the Lyceum to keep them honest. Savannah is a long way from New York or Washington State.” He untucked his shirt and peeled up the hem to allow me a glimpse of tattooed skin. “Some days it’s a long way from Atlanta.” He indicated a city seal inked over his heart. “Atlanta is my city, Georgia is my territory. Savannah has its own security, but it’s within my rights to investigate incidents that threaten the Society or its members.”

  “You do teach at Strophalos, right?” I cocked my head. “That’s true? Not a cover story?”

  “It’s a little of both,” he allowed. “I do teach, but I have more responsibilities than that.” He lowered his shirt. “It was the price of my freedom.” His half-smile drooped. “You had to suspect there was a cost for living the way I do.”

  “I was surprised your mother let you out of her sight.” I stared at his covered chest, remembering the designs beneath, wondering at their meanings. “But I’m just as surprised that she lets you play sheriff like Georgia is the Wild West.”

  “Bonding with a wraith wasn’t a step I took lightly, but all the potentate employ them. They’re our only backup in the field.” He scratched his chest like the old ink itched when he thought about it. “I am sworn to the office of
the Grande Dame, we all are, and that means I am sworn into Mother’s service for as long as she holds the title. The arrangement suits her at present.”

  “I bet.”

  This revelation complicated things, and yet it didn’t. I had expected him to report my movements to his mother, but I hadn’t anticipated him to be oath-sworn to do as she commanded. Yet again this made sifting through his layers to the real Linus near-impossible to the point I wondered if there was a real Linus in there at all. Maybe this was all he was—myriad facets that together formed a cohesive whole, true to themselves if not to their entirety.

  “I pay for my autonomy every day. Coming back here…” A frown knit his brow. “Mother used you as bait to lure me home. She knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the mystery of you. Everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve hangs in precarious balance, Grier. Never think I take it for granted, and never believe it was handed to me.”

  “How many more secrets are you hiding?” I eyed the pockets where his hands most often resided when not drawing. “Where do you keep them all?”

  “I am a secret,” he said, a wistful smile on his lips, “bound in a thin skin of humanity.”

  “That’s not creepy at all.” I laughed, unsure if he was quoting at me or being earnest. With Linus, it was hard to tell. It could be one or the other, or it could be both. “What does it mean?”

  “That I may never tell you the whole truth, but I will never lie to you.”

  Omission was still a lie, but I was too tired to argue semantics. “Am I done yet?”

  “You’re free to go.” He guided my head through the collar of my tee then pulled it down my back. “Get some rest. We’ll start a new lesson at dusk.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” I grumbled.

  “Nor the weary,” he agreed.

  I wondered which of us was which.

  Woolly paid me zero attention when I hit the back porch. I took that to mean she was too busy playing with her new BFF to remember her old one. At least that meant she was also too preoccupied to focus on Amelie. Or on me.