Hailey Edwards - [Beginner's Guide to Necromancy 03] - How to Break an Undead Heart

by Edwards

  “Ah. Yes.” He corrected his posture. “Familiars.” He flipped a few pages through his syllabus. “Julius is exceptionally well-behaved, but you’re right. He can’t fight his instincts with Keet. After thinking on it, I don’t believe the issue is the typical predator-prey response. I’m starting to wonder if it’s not because Keet is undead. Julius might view him as a potential threat to me, which would explain why he keeps attacking him despite my orders.”

  “Hmm.” For someone whose brain was working triple time, you’d think I could come up with something deeper than what sounded like me clearing my throat, but I was still hung up on the rasp of that single syllable: Don’t. “You might be right. I hadn’t considered that.” There. Much more focused and studious. “Too bad we can’t test the theory, but there’s not another familiar like Keet.”

  The glint in Linus’s eyes betrayed his curiosity. “Have you tried making another?”

  I almost choked on my snort. “No.”

  The quirk of his brows invited an explanation I might as well give him.

  “Maud was never the same with me after that. Our lessons shifted overnight. She confiscated my copies of On Human Souls and Progeny: What to Expect When You’re Resuscitating to Build a Better Ward and Our Homes, Our Castles. The last thing I ever would have done was create another.” I winced under the burden of memory. “He’s the reason she declared me assistant material.”

  Linus smoothed his hand across the page while looking at me, like he might absorb the information through his fingertips.

  “All my life, I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough. Now I get it. Or I think I do. He was a symbol of what I was capable of, and she must have been thinking ahead to how that magic would translate to humans when I performed my first resuscitation.” A hint of bitterness soured my mood. “That’s why she made sure that would never happen.”

  Except it had, in Atramentous. Somewhere out there, I had progeny I didn’t remember making.

  “Maud loved you very much.”

  “She did.” That truth was the bedrock my life had been built upon. “I just wish she had trusted me.”

  “We can’t know what long-term plans she had for you, but I doubt she would have kept you in the dark forever. She must have known that, even as an assistant, you were bound to draw attention to yourself. She’d seen your drawings. She knew your brain is hardwired differently than ours.”

  “So what you’re saying is…I really am a freak of nature.”

  “No.” He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “I’m saying you’re a miracle.”

  “That’s not how it feels.” I held very still beneath his touch. “I wish she were here, that I could talk to her.” I huffed out a laugh. “Or Mom. Mom would be nice. She must have had all the answers.”

  No one ran that hard for that long unless they had a good idea of how afraid they ought to be.

  “Maud was a packrat. She kept everything. There are boxes full of letters in the basement.” He stifled a laugh. “I spent an entire summer down there sorting through correspondence between her and Dame Hildebrand Gershwin after Maud received a wedding invitation.”

  “Husband number eight?” That seemed about right. Dame Gershwin was a man-eater.

  Divorce might be frowned upon by the Society, but there were no laws against marrying humans, fragile by comparison, who lived much shorter lives. Still, eight husbands in four-hundred-odd years must have set a record.

  “Nine,” he decided after a moment’s pause. “Dame Gershwin wrote an inflammatory note about Maud’s taste in men back in the twenties, after Maud stole her boyfriend. Almost eight decades later, Maud wanted to throw the words back in Dame Gershwin’s face when she married the man, who Maud dumped after a weekend fling, but she couldn’t remember the exact phrasing.” His tone sobered. “Some of those letters might be from Evangeline.”

  A hard clench in my gut had me sliding my hand back to my lap. “I can’t access the basement.”

  “I’m thinking on some exercises that might help with that.” He picked up a pen and smoothed the page in front of him flat. “It requires some advanced techniques we haven’t covered yet. We can try in a few months, if you’re comfortable with that.”

  A few months would give me a firmer grasp on his character, and it would give me time to decide if I wanted to unleash the secrets she felt safer locked away. “Okay.”

  Pleased, he returned to where he’d left off earlier. “Let’s get started. Turn to page…”

  It was going to be a long night.

  THE WALK back to Woolworth House left my nape prickling with the certainty I was being watched. Most likely it was Amelie, but I had grown so used to Taz leaping from the foliage, legs scissoring, that it took a conscious effort to keep from scanning the bushes for her.

  “I’m off to work,” I told Woolly as I hit the stairs and ducked in my bedroom. I placed Eileen on a stand I had rescued from the attic that allowed her to see out the window. Once I got her settled, I dug around in the top drawer of my desk. When my fingers brushed metal, I pulled a necklace strung with a dented brass button over my head. “See you in four.”

  Mr. Voorhees, the owner of River Street Steam, had yet to let me work more than half a shift for him. He blamed me for the brutal attack on his daughter, Marit. Though, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if his grudge came from him believing I was directly responsible or if he was grumpy I hadn’t sacrificed myself to save her fast enough.

  My first encounter with Oscar had ended with him hurling a handful of steak knives at Marit. Not fun. But he had been a terrified little boy defending himself the best way he knew how, and I couldn’t fault him for that. Sadly, as the only witness to the stabbing besides the victim, my boss wanted nothing to do with me. Marit’s conviction I had saved her life was the only reason I still had a job.

  Had I been dependent upon my income from working in the demo crew aboard the Cora Ann to keep the lights on and food in my belly, I would have turned in my notice by now. As it was, I could afford to work part-time, and it suited my schedule.

  Linus got two hours, most nights, Taz got two, or she used to, and work got four. Homework cost me another two, but that still left me six hours to stream TV or hang out with Amelie before battling the last eight out in bed. At least tonight I was shaking things up by spending those hours packing.

  With a bounce in my step, I hit the pavers and opened the garage. Jolene and her big sister, Willie, stood together near the front, both gleaming in the moonlight. I took my new jacket off the hook and snuggled into it, taking a moment to enjoy that new-leather smell, then I straddled Jolene and walked her out of the garage.

  While the segmented door rolled closed behind me, I tugged on my gloves and helmet. She greeted me with a rumbling purr after I twisted the key in her ignition, and I did a double take at the gas meter. Full. Boaz must have topped her off before he left. This type of small kindness had his name written all over it.

  “Ready?” I called out to Cletus, who materialized over my head, cloak billowing. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  The ride to the Cora Ann left me cackling as the wraith wove in front of me, racing me. I got the feeling Linus had no idea how sentient Cletus had become or else he might worry about sending us out together. I wasn’t in any hurry to lose my shadow now that I had gotten used to having him around, so I kept my mouth shut. Linus was a smart guy. He would figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I didn’t see the harm in letting Cletus live a little.

  Headlights caught my mirror as I turned on Bay Street. The curve slowed me down enough to confirm my suspicions. Yep. A nondescript sedan was tailing me, and if I squinted, I could almost make out the grimace twisting Detective Caitlin Russo’s face as she hunted her quarry.

  Russo had been escorting me to work for about a week, but she hadn’t attempted to talk to me since Neely livestreamed her threatening me on the world’s most popular social media platform, so I ignored her and let
Cletus watch my back.

  I parked on River Street, snagging a prime spot near where the Cora Ann was docked, and the sedan rolled past, casual as you please.

  The walk down to the river was peaceful this time of night, but the boat herself thrummed with activity. As I crossed the gangway, I pulled the necklace from my shirt and rubbed my thumb over the button like Oscar was a genie to be summoned from his lamp. “Have at it, kid. Keep the action PG, though.”

  “You’re funny.” The small boy zoomed around me in dizzying circles. “I won’t hurt nobody. Promise.”

  And then he was gone, off to harmlessly prank the crew for a few hours.

  While I might not win any Mother of the Year awards for encouraging his shenanigans, I had a thriving, well-adjusted ghost boy, and that’s all that mattered to me. He deserved happiness after so many years of loneliness, and if he enjoyed blowing in people’s ears to watch them jump and slamming doors to hear them scream, who was I to tell him no?

  Plus, I figured faking a haunting was the least I could do for Cricket after all the second chances she had given me. And, I’ll admit, I was hoping the incontrovertible proof of a ghost onboard would clear my name with Mr. Voorhees and the crew in time for me to snag one of the coveted hostess spots for the launch party. After shedding my blood, sweat, and tears for this boat, I had more than earned the chance to revive Blue Belle.

  No one called out a welcome as I crossed the gangway, but I had given up on the crew accepting me. All but a handful believed I was responsible for Marit’s near-fatal injury, and there was nothing I could do to convince them otherwise when they wouldn’t stand still long enough for me to defend myself.

  “Hey, Trouble.” Marit waved down at me from her throne, a cracked plastic lawn chair her father had placed near the second deck railing where she could help oversee demo. She had twisted her brown hair into a tight bun, and her bangs swept across her forehead. She tapped a clipboard against the vibrant red birthmark covering her chin and lower jaw, concealing where it spilled down the front of her throat. “Come on up.”

  These days my calves barely burned at the climb. I had jogged the stairs too many times. When I approached the queen of the night shift, I gave her a subtle once-over. “How are you feeling, my liege?”

  “Will you stop that?” Marit flushed until her cheeks matched the wine-colored birthmark. “You know this was all Papa’s idea. He won’t let me go to the bathroom without an escort these days.”

  I dropped my jacket and gear at her feet to collect after my shift ended.

  “You shouldn’t be at work period.” I tsked at her. “Your thigh is still wrapped up like a mummy.”

  “I pulled a few stitches,” she admitted, her blush deepening. “Papa forgot to leave me with the remote on his way to work yesterday, and one of those Humane Society ads came on. I ran to the TV to change the channel before the waterworks started, but I tore something in the process. Papa was not amused to come home and find me sitting in yet another puddle of blood.”

  “Those ads are intense,” I allowed, “but maybe put a pillow over your face or plug your ears instead?”

  “Hindsight.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “I wrote them a big, fat check. Maybe next time the guilt won’t force me to sprint into action to alleviate the sad.”

  As usual, it was just the two of us on the upper deck. No one else wanted to risk bumping into Oscar. I swept my gaze over the hot mess of dining room that was starting to take shape then back at Marit. “What’s on the agenda tonight, boss?”

  “Finish the wallpaper near the restrooms, sweep up, and then you can start priming the floor.” She pointed a finger at me. “Watch out for nails, bolts, and other pokeys. You’ve had your tetanus shot?”

  “I have, and I will.” I located the toolbox I had taken to leaving onboard and popped the lock to give me access to my battered work gloves and tools. “Watch my gear, your highness.”

  Showing her highness, she used her middle finger to wipe imaginary dust from her eye.

  Without Taz wearing me down prior to my shift, I had ridiculous amounts of energy as I ripped, scraped, swept, and painted. Falling into the soothing routine, I turned off my brain and let the work carry me away from my troubles. All too soon it was time to pack it up and go home, which meant facing Marit.

  “You’re smiling mighty big.” Marit squinted at me. “Spill. You got plans with that hot blond tonight?”

  “Nah. Boaz is out of town.” I could still smell his cologne on the pillow he’d slept on, and I missed him already. “But I need to ask a favor.” I gripped the railing, surprised by how much her answer meant to me, how much I wanted this. “I need the next three days off.”

  “Hmm.” She leaned back, elbows on armrests, and steepled her fingers. “Going somewhere?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “That’s all I get?” She tapped her fingertips against her lips. “How can I make such an important decision with so little information?”

  “You are a tyrant.” I picked at the chipped paint under my palm. “I’m going to tour a university campus.”

  Her jaw hung open. “You’re moving?”

  “No.” Sweat beaded along my spine just thinking about trading in Woolly for a sterile dorm room. “I have a friend who teaches there. He’s going to show me around.”

  A wicked smile curved her lips. “A friend who isn’t Boaz?”

  “Linus is a friend of the family.” No, that wasn’t exactly right. “We grew up together.” I winced when a dried shard slipped under my nailbed. “We’re practically cousins.”

  “Kissing cousins?”

  “We’re not blood related.” I cast her a withering glare. “He’s my adoptive mother’s sister’s son.”

  “Interesting.” The cadence of her tapping increased. “So is that a yes to the kissing?”

  A burst of heat spiked my nape when I realized my mistake. “There has been no kissing.”

  Except my lips on his cheek, and even that had short-circuited his brain long enough that I worried about oxygen deprivation killing off hundreds of thousands of his billion brain cells.

  “It’s short notice, no notice, really, but I can spare you for three days.” She nudged my calf with the tip of her boot. “But I want pics of this ‘cousin’ and updates so I can live vicariously.”

  “Deal.” We shook on it. “I would have asked sooner, but he didn’t invite me until yesterday.”

  “In that case, tell him he sucks.” A flick of her wrist dismissed me. “Go on. You don’t have much time to pack.”

  “I’ll text you your first payment before we leave.” Not that I was looking for excuses to sneak pictures of Linus, but the opportunity had presented itself. I scooped up my gear and tucked it under my arm. “Take it easy.”

  “Like I’ve got a choice,” she grumbled. “Party in my name, okay? Drink until your eyes cross.”

  The only spirits we would encounter were of the undead variety, but I shot her a thumbs-up all the same. “Will do.”

  NINE

  I made a pit stop at Mallow on my way home, figuring it was the least I could do since Amelie couldn’t buy for herself, but Cletus stopped me in the parking lot with a gnarled hand on my shoulder. I was about to ask what his deal was when I spotted the issue sitting at my usual table with ruler-straight posture, wearing a pensive expression and a cream pantsuit with black beading in geometric patterns.

  A prickle of unease raised the hairs down my arms, but it’s not like Eloise could have followed me from work since she beat me here. Maybe sweet teeth ran in the family. This could still be a coincidence.

  “She’s not going to assault me in public,” I assured the wraith. “She probably wants to talk.”

  Cletus moaned a rattling warning, but he released me.

  “I’m not going to approach her. I’m going to the counter, placing my order, and then I’m going home.”

  Unhappy with my plan, if his snapping cloak was any indication, he dri
fted behind me to the door.

  I pushed inside and hit the counter, ordered our usual, then took a seat in a chair beneath the picture window so Cletus could keep an eye on me. While I waited for my name to be called, I texted Neely, who I only saw when reporting to Cricket on the Cora Ann’s progress.

  Going to Atlanta for a few days.

  >>Boaz taking you out on the town?

  Nope. Family stuff.

  >>*Yawn* Will you have any downtime?

  Maybe. Not sure yet.

  >>Call if you want company. I could drive up and surprise Cruz with dinner.

  He’s gone this week?

  >>Always.

  I hear you. Boaz is never home either.

  >>All the more reason for us to get together.

  Let you know tomorrow?

  >>Works for me. Drive safe!

  The worst part of being kicked out of the Haint’s main operation wasn’t the hard labor required aboard the Cora Ann. That I actually enjoyed. It was the severe shortage of Neely. We hadn’t made much of an effort to get together since the whole livestream incident. He thought I was still mad, though I wasn’t, and I had my hands full with the million things happening in my personal life.

  I missed him. There was a gaping best-friend-shaped hole in my heart in need of filling. Not that I expected him to take Amelie’s place, but an uncomplicated friend with mundane drama would be nice right about now. I bet a visit would cheer up Amelie too. We would just have to work on our cover story, so he wouldn’t be suspicious of finding her crashing with me.

  “Grier?” a hesitant voice ventured. “I thought that was you.”

  Busted.

  I set my phone aside and braced myself to play nice with my cousin. Cousin. How weird was that? Linus was the closest thing I’d had to one growing up, but I never viewed him as family. For most of my childhood, I had simply considered him the nerdy son of Maud’s snooty big sister.

  “Hey.” Glancing up, I gave her a finger wave. “I see you found my favorite café.”

  “Is it?” Her left hand tightened around her cup, and I noticed her grape was missing. The evenness of her skin tone made me think the engagement must be recent since there was no pale band to indicate otherwise. Maybe she needed a break from hauling around that rock. I could picture her spraining her wrist lifting her hand with each sip. “I don’t drink coffee, but I wanted a place to sit and think. This fit the bill.”