How to Save an Undead Life (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 1)

by Hailey Edwards

  “You still should have told me.” He palmed the back of my head and reeled me in for a gentle hug. “I hate that I made you feel Volkov was your only option.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Next time, let me be there for you.” He released me when the doors rolled open. “That’s what I’m here for, okay?”

  A burst of warmth kindled in my chest at the offer. He could be such an overbearing knuckle-dragger sometimes, but his heart was in the right place. A good woman might be able to train him up right one of these days, and more power to her. With the paths of our lives diverging yet again, I didn’t waste time hoping that job might fall to me. The odds, it seemed, had never been in our favor.

  Ten

  Boaz texted a friend who traded keys with him on the steps of city hall, and we climbed into a borrowed sedan that smelled like stale fries. I still hadn’t seen his new ride, but I heard its throaty growl a few streets over as his friend took her for a spin. Our neighbors must love his new purchase.

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “You must think you’re pretty smooth.”

  A smile glinted in his eyes. “Comparisons have been made between me and babies’ bottoms, yes.”

  “Thanks for the ride.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Thanks for being here tonight.”

  “Anything for you, Squirt,” he rumbled. “You’re my best girl.”

  A quiver rippled through my lower stomach at his tone. Of all the times he’d called me his best girl, I had never once believed he meant it, but I was having trouble not taking him—and the wide palm he wrapped around my thigh—seriously.

  “You aren’t making this any easier,” I murmured, thinking on his father’s warnings.

  “Good,” he said without an ounce of remorse. “I’m tired of easy.”

  Those words ranked up there in my top ten list of things I had always wished he would say. Now that he had, I had no idea what to make of them. So I breathed him in and didn’t make anything of them at all.

  All too soon, we paused at the end of the driveway while the automated gates swung open, and I released a pained groan. “I’d hoped Volkov would take the hint when I didn’t ask him to wait for me.”

  “I’ll handle him.” Eagerness sharpened Boaz’s expression as he rolled up to Woolly and parked. “You need to rest. I’ll make sure he understands that.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but he’s not going to quit until I tell him no.” I lifted my wrist and shook it side to side. “Besides, I have to give this back to him.”

  “How much does he know about you?” Boaz asked in a quiet voice.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “He refused to share his intel. He let me get blindsided tonight.”

  He mulled over that. “Is that why you’re refusing his offer of alliance?”

  I jerked upright and met his stare. “How did you—?”

  “I’m not a total idiot.” His gaze skimmed down my body, over the dress Volkov had given me. “He’s stamping proof of ownership all over you. The dress isn’t half as bad as the jewelry. There’s only one reason why he would give you a weapon against him, and that’s if he was trying to win you over with trust.”

  “Can you do me a favor?” I slid the crimson bangle over my wrist, shuddering at the warmth it had leached from me. I wished I could chuck it at Volkov as a distraction while I bolted for the house, but running from predators only turned you into prey. “Don’t let me make a total fool of myself out there.”

  “I’ve got your back.” He reached over me and palmed a stake from the glovebox. “Do what you need to do.”

  We exited the car together, leaving Keet in the floorboard and the box on my seat, but I walked ahead of Boaz to greet my former escort. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again tonight.”

  “I wasn’t sure how long the Grande Dame would keep you, so I came here to wait. I hope you don’t mind.” He gestured toward Boaz. “I assumed your friend would see you home. It appears I was correct.”

  “Do you want me to get rid of him?” Boaz tossed the stake end over end in his hand. “Say the word, and he’s gone.”

  Volkov scoffed in his direction, amused that Boaz would pit himself against a Last Seed and expect to come out on top. “I only came to make sure you were all right. It’s my duty as your escort to ensure you arrived home in the same condition as when you left.”

  “I’m fine, thank you, but I’ve come into some information tonight that changes things.” I extended the bangle toward him. “I appreciate your offer, but I can’t accept it at this time. There’s too much uncertainty in my future for me to factor in one more unknown.”

  “Tradition demands you keep it as a token of my esteem.” He spread his hands, palms out, and stepped back. “I am forbidden to pursue you should you return the gift.” He looked to Boaz for confirmation. “It is an absolute refusal. I will accept it, of course, if that’s your wish. But I hope you will keep me in mind for a while longer, until you’ve had time to adjust to your new circumstances.”

  “He’s telling the truth.” Boaz shrugged when I checked in with him. “The courtship ends when the avowal is returned.” He held Volkov’s stare. “However, there’s no rule that says you have to wear it while you’re making your decision.”

  I tucked in the smile twitching on my lips and conceded the point. Fine. So maybe I wouldn’t shake off Volkov tonight. But Boaz had found me a loophole. I could keep the bangle as an escape hatch for the day the Grande Dame pressed me too far into a corner. Not an ideal solution, since it meant I had to keep tap-dancing around Volkov, but if I could find another means of nullifying his lure without depending on his gift, I could seize the upper hand in any future negotiations.

  “All right. I’ll keep the bangle for now.” I didn’t put it back on, and Volkov let his mask slip a fraction in his irritation. “I don’t want to make any irreversible decisions until I’ve had time to weigh my options.”

  Volkov inclined his head. “Perhaps I could persuade you to—”

  Boaz placed a proprietary hand at the small of my back, and Volkov’s lip twitched in a snarl.

  “Not tonight.” I stepped away from Boaz to show that while I wasn’t with Volkov, I wasn’t with him either. “Maybe some other time.”

  Volkov took a step that mirrored mine. “Grier.”

  “She said no.” Boaz didn’t raise his voice, didn’t shift his weight forward, gave no outward indication he was primed for battle. Except for his smile. There was something wicked and dangerous in the curve that set my pulse sprinting. “Back off, vamp.”

  Volkov bared his fangs and hissed under his breath. His guards, who had been content to watch the show up to this point, pushed off the car and approached us.

  “This is my line,” I warned Volkov, stepping between the vampires and Boaz. “Cross it, hurt someone I love, and there’s no going back.”

  The threat had the desired effect, but I got the impression admitting I loved Boaz, no matter that it was mostly unrequited, had painted a target on his carotid.

  The growl of a motorcycle approaching caught the guards’ attention and shattered our stalemate.

  “I’ll be in touch.” Volkov shoved his hands into his pockets. “Soon.”

  Boaz and I stood together in silence until their taillights flashed at the end of the street.

  “He’s going to be a problem,” he predicted as he returned to the car to gather my things. “Vamps are hella territorial, and he thinks I hiked my leg on his hydrant tonight by bringing you home.”

  Of course he would remember the hydrant comment.

  “We’ll figure something out.” I frowned at the limp he had concealed from the vampires. “For now, you need to go home and take care of your leg.”

  He grunted. “Don’t start mother-henning me, Squirt.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t break something jumping onto the dais.” I shoved him gently. “Count your blessings.”

  Grumbling all the way
, he bent down and dropped a kiss on top of my head as he passed off Keet and the box. “Don’t think this means you can start bossing me around every day.”

  I batted my lashes at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  A herd of wild buffalo would have made a quieter exit than Boaz’s stomping. I got the feeling he wasn’t thrilled leaving me alone for the night, but asking him to stay over wasn’t happening. I had too much to process tonight without adding the temptation of Boaz sleeping down the hall from me to the mix.

  Ready for this night to end, I took the stairs and sang out, “I’m home.”

  The porch light blazed in welcome, and I shuffled in with all my burdens as the door shut and the latches engaged until Woolly was locked up tight behind me. An air of expectation hung around me as she attempted to use silence to crack me, but I was a tough nut and onto her tricks. After all, I had taught her most of them.

  “I’m sorry, girl.” I rested my forehead against the door. “So much happened tonight, and I don’t want to get into the gory details.”

  A floorboard groaned in protest.

  “I’ll give you the scoop tomorrow, I promise.” I rushed to assure her I wasn’t falling into old habits. “I just need to think for a bit. Is that okay?” The lights in the foyer brightened in assent, and I lifted the cage. “Look who’s back.”

  The curtain near the window where Keet’s empty cage sat rippled in excitement, and I transferred the little guy back into his own home. The smaller one I would toss out tomorrow to be on the safe side. Keeping any gift from the Grande Dame, no matter how benign it appeared, struck me as asking for trouble.

  After trudging upstairs, I changed into Boaz’s rumpled shirt and crawled under the covers in the cool darkness while my mind raced frantic circles around all I had learned tonight. At least I had confirmation of who I owed the favor. Now the question would be when did she plan to collect?

  Eleven

  I choked on a scream and scrabbled deeper into the corner. I was panting through the worst of the pounding heart and screaming adrenaline dump when I understood what had woken me. The doorbell. Woolly flipped on every light in my room and cranked them up to blinding levels to urge me to my feet.

  I pulled on a bra and cutoff shorts before padding downstairs and pressing my eye to the peephole.

  A short man decked out in a navy three-piece suit stood on my welcome mat. Green eyes flicked up to the fisheye lens, and he winked at me, aware he was being watched. His tan skin made the white sleeve of his shirt pop when he reached up to adjust the mop of black curls sliding across his forehead.

  Woolly unlocked the door, and I pulled it open, careful to keep on my side of the threshold. “Can I help you?”

  “Dame Woolworth?”

  The impulse to glance behind me to see if Maud stood there twitched in my neck. “Grier Woolworth, yes.”

  Though, now that he’d mentioned it, I suppose with Maud gone, I was the current title holder.

  “I’m Omar Hacohen.” He extended his arm. “I work for the office of the Grande Dame.”

  “You don’t say.” I made no move to accept his hand. “What can I do for you?”

  “For me? Not much.” The leather portfolio he slapped against his thigh bore the insignia of my financial institution. “This visit is all about what I can do for you.”

  “Uh-huh.” I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not trying to sell me a used car, are you?”

  “Ouch.” He gave an exaggerated wince. “Do I really cast off the snake oil salesman vibe?”

  Yes. “A little.”

  “We got work to do, girly. You want to do it out here or in there?”

  I wasn’t in the mood to invite a stranger working for my aunt into my home, so I joined him on the porch and shut the door to give me something to lean against. “Out here is fine.”

  “Access to your funds were granted earlier today.” A heavy packet with my name emblazoned on it was the first thing I saw when he flipped open the folio. “You have a new debit card in there along with all your new account information.”

  The urge to rip into the packet and hold that rectangular piece of heaven in my hands twitched in my fingers. The promise of financial solvency had me salivating harder than the time I spied on Boaz skinny dipping with his friends.

  This was more than the ability to keep the lights on and the fridge stocked. With access to my inheritance, I could afford a specialist to repair Woolly’s foundation. More than that, I could erase all the years of neglect from her creaking floorboards to her leaking windows to her peeling paint. I could give the old girl a facelift that would make her the envy of the town.

  “Before we get to all that,” Mr. Hacohen said, pulling a pen from the pocket of his single-breasted jacket, “I got some forms for you to sign.”

  Forcing myself to block out the stack of papers that would turn my world upside down for the third time—or was it the fourth? I was starting to lose count—I tried for nonchalance so he wouldn’t see I was ready to tear the activation strip off my new debit card with my teeth.

  Reinstating me took the better part of two hours. Just a few dozen initials, thirty or so signatures, and I was once again a woman of means who could afford all the Honeycrisp apples she could eat. Heck, I could invest in entire apple orchards to ensure an unlimited supply.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Mr. Hacohen said, slapping his folio closed. “One of my cards is in your packet. You need anything, call me. I’ll be handling your case.”

  “Does that make you a lawyer?” He hadn’t told me exactly what he did for my aunt, after all.

  “Girly, it makes me a hell of a lot of things.” He ruffled his springy hair. “I need to get back to the Lyceum to file these. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

  “Night,” I called to him, cradling the packet against my chest. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Hacohen lifted a hand as he slid behind the wheel of his car. I waved and went back in the house.

  Though I had a shiny debit card burning a hole in my pocket, I wasn’t about to play hooky. Better than most, I knew fortunes could change hands on a dime. I owed Cricket for hiring me on the spot, no questions asked, after I vanished on her last time. I would have been begging scraps from Amelie’s table if not for Cricket’s willingness to extend me a second chance.

  Oh, no.

  And the award for worst friend in the world goes to…Grier Woolworth!

  Between the news of my reinstatement and the confrontation with Volkov, I had forgotten Amelie. My best friend, and I hadn’t spared her a second thought as I climbed into bed and left her to wait up on me.

  Surely Boaz must have… But it wasn’t his job to clean up after me.

  I retrieved my cellphone and dialed her up before I lost my courage.

  “I don’t have time for this right now,” she answered on the second ring. “I’m late for work.”

  “I’m sorry I stood you up last night.” I dumped the thick packet on the bar. “I should have called.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Hurt throbbed in each syllable. “Boaz told me some of what happened. He said congratulations are in order.”

  The urge to ask what, exactly, he’d told her made me trip over a rug. Boaz was a lot of things. Mostly, he was a pain in my butt. But he was trustworthy and loyal, and he wouldn’t betray me even to his sister. Not without a good reason.

  “Can we talk about it tonight after our shift?” I wheedled. “There’s a cupcake with your name on it at Mallow. My treat. I’ll even spring for some of that hot chocolate you love.”

  “Mallow? Come on. That’s not fair. I’m trying to be mad here.” She huffed into the receiver. “How can I hold on to my righteous anger when you’re offering me sugar?”

  “Is that a yes?” It was so a yes.

  “I want you to know I’m only agreeing to this because those marshmallows are hand cut, and the chocolate is seventy-five percent cacao.”

  “I can respect that.” Anything
to get my foot back in the door. “See you in a few.” I pulled up my hair as I headed for the front door and slung my purse over my shoulder. My very light purse. Fiddlesticks. Volkov still had my wallet tucked in the silver purse from the inauguration. Guess I was obeying the speed limit tonight. “I’m off to work,” I informed Woolly. “Call me if you need me.”

  A warm swirl of air tickled my bare feet as the floor register hummed with contentment.

  Despite her cheerfulness, I expected a fight when I reached for the doorknob. A thread of suspicion unspooled within me when her usual resistance never manifested. I didn’t doubt she was happy to see my social circle had expanded beyond Amelie over the last several days, but I hadn’t expected her to want me to go.

  Maybe this more self-assured Woolly was the result of Boaz dropping in so often he might as well start paying rent. Or Amelie traipsing around at all hours. Or Keet tweeting his head off in front of the picture window. Or the influx of new visitors. It was hard to tell what had been the tipping point, but her rooms were full of laughter and conversation. She had a family again. That’s all she’d ever wanted. I was happy one of our wishes were so easily fulfilled.

  I was still thinking on Amelie when I reached the garage and bumped into Boaz and the gleaming monster that must be his new ride. I loosed a slow whistle and circled the bike, admiring her curves. Much like Jolene, she was crimson and chrome with a dash of black for contrast. The two bikes could have been siblings.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” I breathed.

  “Hi yourself.”

  “The bike,” I clarified, not that it did much to wipe the smug grin off his face. “How’s your leg?”

  “Still attached.” He caved under the intensity of my glare and gave me a report. “I’ve got some bruising and soreness, but it’ll heal. Happy? It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  Call me cynical, but I doubted he had gotten off that easy. The lines bracketing his mouth told me he was in pain but doing his best to mask the ache of impact on his left leg. “What are you doing here?”