“Your human is unavailable.” She clipped each syllable shorter than Boaz kept his hair on the sides. “That doesn’t change the fact you need clothes. I saw what you brought with you when I located your pajamas. Do you really want to step foot on Strophalos soil dressed in rags?”
“Jeans and T-shirts aren’t rags,” I grumbled, ignoring how many holes frayed each of mine.
“Linus has a reputation to uphold.” Her nose wrinkled. “For that matter, so do you. Do you want people to associate the Woolworth name with grunge rockers from the nineties?”
“No?”
“I’ve wasted enough of my time on this.” She tipped up her chin. “I’ll be back in an hour, and we’ll talk lunch. Make sure you’ve picked out at least a dozen outfits. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
“A dozen? Outfits?” That was like—I did quick math in my head—thirty-six or more individual pieces. “I don’t know what to choose. You’ve seen what I wear.”
A calculating smile curved her pouty lips. “That’s why I pre-coordinated each piece here. You cannot go wrong. The palette is traditional. Whites, grays, blacks, and reds. These are the colors your adoptive mother wore, the shades associated with your family and your station.”
Surprise left me speechless. This was…a kindness. Meiko didn’t do kind.
The odds of her suffocating me in my sleep jumped by twenty-five percent.
“I’ll do your hair and makeup,” she informed me. “Fashion is armor where you’re going.”
The sentiment was visceral in its accuracy and yet… “Why are you doing this?”
“The sooner you accomplish your goals, the sooner you’ll go home.”
“He’s coming back to Savannah with me.” The taunt popped right out of my mouth without permission.
“This is his home,” she purred. “He belongs here, with me.” Her smile sharpened. “You’ll break his heart. You’re already half in love with someone else, and when you crush him, he’ll finally understand you don’t care about him. Don’t you get it?” She laughed, all sly venom. “I’m helping me, not you. He needs to let go of this fantasy of you. Make your choice, and put him out of his misery. You might not love him, but surely you care enough to want what’s best for him?”
“Linus doesn’t care about me that way,” I said, hearing my own uncertainty.
“You saw his office.” A grimness tightened her eyes as she plucked her keycard from her cleavage. “You know the truth. Run from it if you like, deny it if you must, but remember this: There’s nothing wrong with lying until you start telling them to yourself.”
The door clicked shut on her heels, and I was left alone with a loft full of clothes and the budding certainty I might not have been the only one nursing a teenage crush.
Meiko might be a liar, but her hurt over his rejection rang all too true.
Partly to spite Meiko, and partly to cut myself some slack since I had no idea what I was doing without Neely, I chose two. Five pieces of clothing total. Three baubles. Plus, one pair of shoes—flats—guaranteed to earn me a lip curl when she spotted me wearing them.
One of the most valuable lessons I learned from being a Haint, besides breathing was optional, was comfortable shoes trumped beauty every single time. There was a reason we dressed in full Southern-belle regalia, hair and makeup just so, but wore coordinating sneakers instead of the heels that were period accurate.
When the door opened an hour later and Meiko sashayed in to survey the results of her ultimatum, I stood as tall as one could in black flats. The black slacks emphasized my thinness, but the ruffled front of the white blouse gave the illusion of cleavage. A strand of red glass beads hung around my throat, and I paired it with a matching bracelet at my wrist. The coordinating jacket, also black, hung over the back of a chair, the red embroidery on the lapels peeking out just a touch. Makeup wasn’t happening, I would end up looking like a runaway clown if I applied it myself, but I had put a little effort into my hair.
After pulling the frizzy mass into a ponytail and deciding that wouldn’t do, I sacrificed a sock to the cause. I trimmed off its toe and scrunched it down until it formed a donut. From there, all I had to do was thread my hair through the hole, tuck as I rolled it down against my scalp, then secure the sleek bun with bobby pins. Not too shabby.
“You look…decent.” Meiko prowled a circle around me. “Where are your other selections?”
“This and that,” I said, indicating my second outfit, “are all I want from you.”
“It’s your money.” She twitched an elegant shoulder. “What do I care how you spend it?”
“Wait—my money?” Nails bit into my palms when I formed fists at my side. “How do you figure?”
“I used the debit card from your purse when I called in the order.” Smugness lent her beautiful face a cruel edge. “All of this is yours. Keep it, wear it, or burn it. I couldn’t care less what you do.”
While I didn’t mind paying for my clothes, I had no intention of stuffing a closet full of pieces handpicked for me by her.
“This is what we’re going to do,” I told her, slow and polite. “You’re going to return everything but what I’m wearing and the one other outfit I showed you.” Her lip peeled over her teeth, but I kept going. “Anything that’s nonreturnable will be tallied and billed to you. Not Linus. You.”
“You can’t be serious.” She fisted the sleeve of the nearest garment. “Have you seen the price tags on these pieces?”
“Oh, I’m sure they were the most expensive clothes you could have delivered on short notice. Just another way to stick it to me. Don’t worry, I get it. But here’s the thing. The money you spent? It’s mine. It’s not yours. I’m not Linus. I won’t allow you to play with me or my things, and I won’t let you spend my money as if it’s yours when I’ve bled and grieved and almost died to earn it.”
Meiko sharpened her scowl into claws she raked over me. “I was wrong about you.”
In a fit of pique, she shrank into her cat form and stalked off without finishing her thought. No doubt she hoped to leave me in suspense, but I didn’t care about her opinion of me. Not before this moment, and certainly not after it.
But I did wish we had put off this confrontation until after lunch.
Most days I did a good job of acting like the old Grier. Enough so people didn’t stare, didn’t ask what was wrong. But new Grier lurked beneath that thin skin, and she wasn’t someone I wanted off her leash.
Anger simmered in me, even when I laughed, even when I smiled, and one day it would devour me from the inside. What emerged would be the truth of what was left after Maud, after Atramentous, after Volkov. That Grier would make a merciless Dame Woolworth, a matriarch the Grande Dame would adore, and that more than anything had me tucking her deeper and deeper within me until I could act like everything was okay again.
While I waited on Linus, I texted Amelie a heads-up about Meiko’s prank. As my financial advisor, I didn’t want her to have a heart attack when the bill arrived.
Guilt tempted me to fess up about the accident while we chatted, but she would be livid I hadn’t confessed sooner, and I was too tired to face a lecture. A suffocating weight pressed on me every time she explained how much losing me had cost her, and her brother. When I was feeling uncharitable, I asked myself if they realized how much losing the old Grier had cost me. But mostly I was just lonely for the simplicities of that life.
The front door opened, and Linus entered wearing charcoal slacks with a matching jacket over a white button-down shirt. His dark auburn hair had been combed back and gathered at his nape, and he had slung a black leather messenger bag across his shoulders that matched his shoes. His glasses completed the look, and I had to shake my head. “I see why Meiko is such a smitten kitten.”
“Hmm?” Linus wasn’t listening. He was staring. At me.
Not about to renew the sentiment while he was looking at me that way, I said, “We’re having lovely weather.”
&
nbsp; “Are we?” He sounded distant, thoughtful. “I haven’t noticed.”
“You’re giving me a complex, here.” I snagged my jacket off the back of the chair and shrugged it on as insulation between me and his intense focus. “Nothing’s hanging out? All my buttons fastened?”
“Apologies.” Linus wet his lips and tore his gaze from me. “This isn’t what I expected.”
“I wanted to look nice.” I smoothed my hands down my pants. “Now I see I was right to worry. You’re all GQ over there. Do you really teach dressed like that? Do you have a janitor assigned to your room just to mop up the drool between classes?”
“Thank you.” Swaths of red highlighted his cheeks. “I think.”
“Are you ready to go?” I grabbed my purse, checking for my debit card and room key before tucking my phone inside and zipping it closed. “We’re still visiting Neely first?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I just spoke to Dr. Schmidt. We’re cleared for a half-hour visitation window, but that’s all they’re allowing for nonfamily members.”
Eager to go, I hustled out into the hall to wait while he locked up behind us. “Where did you run off to?”
“I rescheduled the meeting I missed last night for dusk.” He guided me onto the elevator. “The timing allowed me to add the identities of the vampires who drove you off the road into our database.”
As the numbers counted down, I couldn’t suppress a shiver. A database full of vampires who were out to get me. Not exactly how I imagined reemerging into Society. “Did you learn anything new?”
“I reviewed the security footage.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “They left within minutes of you exiting the building. We can only assume they made calls in the privacy of their room then followed the orders they were given.”
“Have you located their cells?” Cellphones were modern-day diaries, after all.
“They were recovered along with the bodies. They got greedy, sloppy. Hopefully, they left clues behind in their apartment for us to find.” Linus hadn’t been gone long enough to perform a search, so he must employ a team. Though, I suppose even Batman had his Alfred Pennyworth. “I doubt the Master would allow anyone so reckless in his inner circle, so odds are good we won’t unearth anything of consequence.”
“Have they lived here long?” I grimaced with the knowledge there were likely others whispering my secrets, camouflaged by the sheer volume of residents. “Did you recognize them?”
“They had been living here for two months.” He adjusted the strap on his bag. “I never met them. I’m sure there are others, but good luck to us finding them until they make a move. There are too many residents, too many variables.”
“The Faraday ought to introduce tougher screening protocols for vampire applicants.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. “Scratch that. Discrimination is not the answer.” There were thousands of law-abiding vampires across the country who had done nothing to deserve yet another restriction on their undead lives. The whole community shouldn’t be punished for the actions of a few, and certainly not on my behalf. “I’m just thinking out loud.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised.
“We as in you and me or we as in you and…?” I was genuinely curious. “Don’t potentates work alone?”
“We do, in the field.” A slight hesitation tipped me off as to how rare it was for him to talk about this aspect of his life with others. “I have a team that helps me. I couldn’t do it all alone. They’re all safe behind their desks.”
Interesting. “Will I meet them at Strophalos?”
“They’re kept anonymous for their own protection.” Regret darkened his eyes. “It’s dangerous working for a potentate. It’s twice as dangerous working for the Grande Dame’s son.”
I saw where this was headed. “Three times as dangerous when he’s friends with me, huh?”
“Yes,” he agreed, lightening the sting with a faint smile.
The lobby was empty when we hit bottom, and I grabbed him by the wrist to haul him outside before Hubert could insert his nose in the crease between Linus’s butt cheeks. Rather proud of our escape, I grinned brightly until Hood planted himself in my path.
Cletus drifted down, his tattered cloak tickling my elbow.
“Evening, Ms. Woolworth.” Hood skimmed me from head to foot, eyes golden. “You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.” His nostrils flared. “You were covered in blood, and not all of it yours.”
“All thanks to Nurse Linus.” Noticing I still held his wrist, I released him. “He patched me up as good as new.”
“Glad to hear it.” He inclined his head toward Linus, almost in gratitude. “Enjoy your evening, folks.”
“You too,” I replied awkwardly, like standing guard was the thrill of a lifetime.
Within seconds, our ride pulled up to the curb. Ignoring us, Tony kept chugging his energy drink.
Behind us, Hood chuckled darkly. I turned and saw him lifting his phone to capture Scion Lawson, the Potentate of Atlanta, climbing into a grungy van driven by a human dressed in days-old pajamas. I narrowed my eyes at him in warning, which tickled him all the more.
“Do you remember what I told you about the watchmen?” Linus asked once the van merged with traffic.
How could I forget? “That they eat people who annoy them.”
“And?” His lecturing voice was in the on position. “Anything else come to mind?”
“Hood’s the one who keeps initiating conversations. It’s not my fault he’s gabby around me. Which is worse? Responding to him or ignoring him? I don’t want him to eat me for being rude.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” The city beyond the window caught his eye, and he noted each lamppost and street sign like it would be a long time before he saw them again. “The gwyllgi don’t chat up residents. They barely condescend to acknowledge me. I’m not sure why Hood is fascinated with you.”
“Maybe he’s just curious.” Though not as intrigued as I was about his true nature. Gwyllgi sounded Welsh—fae—but that was impossible. “You’ve never brought anyone home, right? He might wonder what earned me the invite.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded, though he didn’t sound convinced.
The drive to Gershwin Memorial was loud and…fragrant. Our driver grew more pungent by the day, his natural cologne a mingling of armpit funk, unwashed feet, and pepperoni. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of a polite way to point out there were free bars of soap and mini shampoo bottles in his hotel room, and that he maybe ought to think about using them.
Linus didn’t complain, though he did breathe through his mouth. I patted his thigh in solidarity.
After missing the turn three times, Tony dropped us off under the portico. From there, Linus led the way straight up to the third floor to a room marked Private. He knocked once, and Cruz emerged, looking like someone had taken a sock full of quarters to him. His brows crashed down when he spotted me, and the bruises under his reddened eyes made my gut twist.
Careful not to make a sound, he eased the door shut behind him to bar the entrance. “What are you doing here?”
This was not going to end well. “I came to see Neely.”
Cruz measured me and found me wanting, more so than usual. “You almost got him killed last night.”
Hating he was right, I still fumbled for an excuse. “Another car—”
“I saw the footage from the traffic cameras.” Much like Linus, Cruz must have contacts all over the city. “The driver of the other car pulled out of the parking deck at your building within thirteen minutes of you leaving. She was gunning for Neely from the moment he picked you up at the MARTA stop. That tells me what happened wasn’t an accident. She intended to do harm.” A quiver in his jaw warned me not to push him. “Who could her intended target have been?” He pretended to consider it might be Neely for, oh, all of about zero seconds. “My husband, who has never so much as jaywalked in his life, or you?”
>
Cold sweat beaded down the small of my back. “What are you saying?”
Neely had no idea who or what I was beyond his struggling-to-get-by friend Grier, but Cruz…
According to Linus, Cruz worked for the Society, managing their human interests, whatever that meant. Over the course of three years, he was smart enough to have figured out there was something hinky about the work he was doing and his wealthy clients. Intelligent enough not to question a good thing as long as the work he did was legal and the deposits arrived like clockwork. But he must have wondered, maybe even fit pieces of the big picture together.
How much did he know? Or think he knew? And how much protection would his job title afford him?
“The accident wasn’t Grier’s fault.” Linus waded in, playing peacekeeper. “She’s a victim here too.”
Victim. The word made me flinch. I hated it more than all others combined.
Cruz noticed me recoiling. From the darkening of his scowl, I bet he had mistaken the reaction for guilt.
“The auto claims adjuster sent me pictures of the car. I saw the blood in the passenger’s seat. Your seat.” His knuckles popped at his sides under the strain of his fists. “Yet you weren’t admitted. You walked away while Neely—” His voice broke, jagged edges that cut me. “He’s…”
The urge to reach out and soothe him almost overcame my common sense. “He will recover.”
“Neely told me about your boyfriend. The one who knocked you around. That stunt with the detective in Savannah—Russo—was that about this?” When I didn’t answer, his eyes brightened, a predator scenting blood. “Whatever hot mess you got yourself tangled up in almost cost Neely his life. Stay away from him.”
Throat tight, I forced myself to swallow. “You’re telling me what Volkov did to me was my fault?”
“Fuck.” Cruz rubbed his face while he breathed in deep. “I didn’t mean that. I’m not victim blaming.”
Linus cupped my elbow and pitched his voice low. “We’re drawing too much attention.”
Nurses and visitors alike stood frozen in the hall, watching the fireworks, while a matched set of security guards approached us slowly, careful not to alarm the patients.
How to Break an Undead Heart Page 17