“She doesn’t mean anything by it.” Hood stood and caught Grier by the wrist before she escaped. “She was surprised is all.”
“A fist punched through my stomach.” She broke away from him. “My child, who is inside me, stuck his hand out to wave hello.” Her voice kept rising. “Why is no one asking if I’m okay?”
Head pounding, Linus shoved into a sitting position and then stood. “Forgive me.”
“This isn’t about you,” she screamed, tears flooding her eyes. “This is about the baby.”
This was, he knew, more about her terror that LJ was manifesting unknown powers in the womb.
“Grier.” The heaving sobs erupted as he enfolded her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“Call the doctor.” She cried until her voice broke. “Call him now.”
The raw panic in her voice cracked his heart, but his fear was equal to hers.
“Stupid hormones.” Her bottom lip quivered until she growled at its wobbliness. “I’m trying to be strong for LJ’s sake, but I can’t decide if I want to cry, eat, or kick someone.”
“I volunteer as kicking post while you cry and eat if it will make you feel better.”
Easing her upstairs to their bedroom, Linus helped her onto the mattress and propped her up while he placed a call to the obstetrician, who promised to arrive in fifteen minutes or less.
With that done, he climbed in bed with her and cradled her against him until Woolly announced the doctor had arrived and was on his way upstairs.
“Dame Woolworth,” he greeted Grier. “Scion Woolworth.”
Done with the pleasantries, Grier shrieked, “The baby stuck his arm through my stomach.”
Dr. Rogers blinked once, twice, and then he sought out Linus. “You witnessed it?”
“I did.” Linus kept hold of Grier’s hand. “The baby appears to have inherited some of my powers.”
The magically enforced NDAs Grier loathed were the sole reason Dr. Rogers was aware of the true mix of heritages the child carried. Linus’s status as an Eidolon might get him killed. It was best the rest of the world assumed he had bonded to multiple wraiths, not that he was a creature apart from necromancers.
“We all knew this might happen.” Dr. Rogers snapped on a pair of exam gloves. “It’s nothing to fear.”
All of a sudden, Linus experienced the very Grier-like urge to kick the doctor in the shin for his insufferable attitude and how he minimized the emotional toll on Grier.
“Baby. Fist. Stomach.” She bared her teeth at him. “Tell me not to be afraid one more time. I dare you.”
The vampire exhaled, ignoring her outburst, and began his examination. Twenty minutes later, he announced Grier was stable and in good health. Aside from the incident, the pregnancy was progressing normally.
“Are you certain you didn’t imagine the incident?” He smiled benevolently down at Grier. “Linus might have been reacting to your suggestion.” He checked with Linus. “Are you certain you saw what you think you saw?”
“LJ,” she crooned, hand on her side. “Can you show the idiotic doctor your mommy’s not crazy?”
As before, black mist wafted off the taut skin of her belly, and a small fist reached out to Grier.
The doctor’s jaw fell open, and his fangs popped out in utter shock. “I…”
“Can you see this?” She held up her finger, which LJ was holding. “Or are you hallucinating?”
“Maybe there’s a gas leak,” Lethe growled from the doorway. “Or maybe it’s moonlight glinting off swamp gas.”
“Impossible,” Dr. Rogers said and took a healthy step back. “This is…impossible.”
“And yet,” Grier muttered, “here we are.”
Aware of his role in her earlier panic, Linus caught her eye. “May I?”
“Daddy wants some love too,” she cooed. “Can you say hi?”
Gently, Linus touched the hand and found it warm and soft. “Hello.”
The chubby fingers closed over his and held tight, and where they touched, black mist curled off Linus as well.
“Remarkable,” he murmured then checked with Grier. “This doesn’t hurt you?”
“It makes a cold spot.” She shivered. “The sensation’s not unpleasant, just strange.”
Given his own body temperature, he hadn’t noticed the baby’s was lower than normal. Everyone read as warmer to his touch, and so did LJ. He might run lower than the average necromancer, but he wasn’t as cold as Linus.
“What does this mean?” He posed the question to Dr. Rogers. “For Grier and the baby?”
“There are risks with any child who possesses supernatural powers.” Dr. Rogers kept his distance. “What I recommend is bumping Grier’s cesarean up to dusk tomorrow. I need time to prepare for an emergency procedure.”
The baby released Linus’s finger and retreated, as if Grier’s panic had spooked him.
Clasping hands with her, Linus asked him, “Are you sure that’s the wisest course of action?”
“The child has the ability to manifest parts of himself outside his mother’s body. So far, he has control of the trick. What happens when he loses it? Assuming he is human in form, as the ultrasound suggests, he could corporealize with an appendage piercing Grier’s stomach.”
Pallor swept through her as what he meant registered, and Linus’s gut clenched in sympathy.
“Early delivery sounds good,” she rushed to assure him. “Let’s do it.”
“I’ll clear my schedule for the next seventy-two hours. I will be on call for you, and you alone. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you’re in pain or discomfort. I’ll have my staff ready to receive you at dusk.”
“Thanks.” She rallied a polite smile. “We’ll see you then.”
“I’ll walk him out.” Lethe rubbed her arms. “I’ll be right back.”
Once they were alone, Linus faced Grier. “Our son is going to be a handful.”
“You would think a noncorporeal child would have shown up during one of my fifty ultrasounds.”
“You’re speaking to him, and he understands you. Developmentally, he’s not an infant. He will be aware, and alert, if this is any indication.” Linus brushed the hair from Grier’s forehead. “I knew any child of yours would be a miracle, but this…”
“Ours,” she corrected him tartly. “I didn’t get this way on my own.”
“Ours,” he agreed, his heart full to bursting.
“You’re the genius,” she continued. “Clearly, his intellect is your fault.”
“He already loves you.”
A huff of laughter eased her frown lines. “We can’t know that.”
“He couldn’t wait to meet you.” He smoothed a hand over her stomach. “He reached out to you.”
“Literally.” Her amusement faded, and she studied him. “What do we do?”
“Focus on keeping our son where he belongs for twenty-four more hours.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She gentled her voice. “What about your mother?”
“The others will continue the search. No one knows how Boaz thinks better than Clem.”
“I figured there must be another reason why you wanted him home so badly.”
Footsteps pelted the stairs, and Adelaide rushed to the doorway with her phone in hand.
“Good news?” Grier elbowed a pillow into submission. “Your cheeks are all flush.”
“Too much cardio,” she joked, her teeth sawing on her bottom lip. “It’s just…”
“Tell us.” Grier covered his hand with hers. “You’re not going to catapult me into labor with your news.”
“Boaz texted me a string of numbers.” She forwarded it to both of them. “I think they’re coordinates.”
“Check your phone,” Grier urged him. “You’re not betraying me by worrying about your mother.”
Loyalties torn, he did as she instructed and had to agree. “Have you checked them?”
“Yeah.” Adelaide toed the floor w
ith her sneaker. “I wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense.” Grier smiled at her. “Where’s the party?”
“A lingerie store on Abercorn Street.”
“Your face says you’re not joking,” Grier clarified, “but your mouth delivered one half of a punchline.”
“That’s what I got.” Adelaide spread her hands. “Linus is welcome to check behind me.”
Phone in hand, he did just that and came to the same conclusion. “She’s right.”
“Do we know of any tunnels in the area?” Grier lips pursed. “That would explain it.”
Worrying the hem of her shirt, Adelaide asked Grier, “Can you ask Savannah?”
“Not through the wards.” She shook her head. “Even if Woolly took them down, which is too risky, it’s easier to communicate with her directly.”
The reminder of how nuanced her bond with Savannah had grown gave him an idea of how to avoid surprises, such as his mother’s, in the future. Grier could ask the city to report unusual activity underground, and they could zero in on it before it caught them unawares.
That would help going forward, but it was useless to them now.
“I can’t make it down the stairs again,” Grier confessed. “Activity riles up LJ, and I’m not afraid to admit the mental picture of his hand getting stuck halfway through my navel is one I’m going to have nightmares about for years to come.”
Relief cascaded through Linus, and he was grateful not to have to be the bad guy and suggest she stay in bed except for bathroom breaks until it was time for her emergency surgery.
“We’ll find another way.” Adelaide rocked back on her heels. “I’ll report in when we get there.”
“Don’t bother.” Grier shoved Linus at her. “Go.”
“I’m not leaving you.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “You need me.”
“Always,” she said softly, “but right now your mother and Boaz need you a little bit more.”
“I won’t leave her side,” Lethe vowed from the doorway. “Potty breaks included.”
“See?” Though Grier wrinkled her nose, she didn’t complain. “I’m all set.”
Chest tight, he made his decision. “Will you keep Cletus with you so that I can look in on you?”
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll even keep Oscar and Hood in here if it makes you feel better.”
“I’ll leave that to your discretion.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Be careful.” She caught him by the front of his shirt and yanked him down for a kiss that stole his breath. “I mean it.” Shoving him back, she wiggled her fingers. “Hand.”
Dutifully, he allowed her to draw an impervious sigil on his wrist. “I love you.”
“I know,” she said smugly and winked. “I’ve seen your art studio.”
A flush swept up his throat into his cheeks, and he cleared his throat as he stood.
“I got this.” Lethe flopped down on his side of the bed. “Go save your mom.”
“She’ll be fine.” Adelaide touched his arm. “We need to go.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not sure how long Boaz can afford to stay in one place. We might lose them if they have to move again.”
The added urgency spurred him into motion. He wasn’t the only one with a loved one in harm’s way. He owed it to Adelaide to get her to her fiancé safely, and to extract his mother and Boaz before they were forced to flee again.
“All right.” He sidled past her and hit the stairs. “Corbin?”
“Right here.” He strolled around the corner with Oscar on his shoulders. “Time to go?”
The ghost stuck out his bottom lip, and it trembled with the promise of tears.
“We have a lead,” Linus confirmed. “We need to move fast.” He searched the entryway. “Clem?”
“He’s pulling the van around,” Corbin supplied. “He’ll meet us out front.”
With that in mind, he packed his kit with a bit of everything, should they need more magical firepower.
Corbin slid his gaze past Linus. “Are you coming too?”
“I got you the lead,” Adelaide said tartly. “The least you can do is bring me along.”
Oscar tucked in his lip and leaned forward. “Can I come?”
“It’s too dangerous.” Corbin picked him up and set him adrift. “We’ll play when I get back.”
Floating on air currents Woolly provided, Oscar swam to keep from drifting away. “Promise?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Corbin poked the ghost and sent him tumbling. “Only if you don’t cheat this time.”
“I don’t cheat.” Oscar puffed up his chest. “I can’t help if you can’t go through walls like me.”
“We’ll finish this later.” Corbin ruffled the boy’s hair. “Keep an eye on Grier while we’re gone.”
“I will.” He snapped out a salute. “Here.” He manifested a small foam dart gun from wherever he kept such things until he required them. “It’s got a full clip.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Corbin accepted the weapon with solemnity. “Later.”
Without further delay, Linus slung on his messenger bag and exited the house.
Unarmed and undaunted, Adelaide followed, and Corbin brought up the rear.
They piled into Moby, and Clem drove them a block from the coordinates then parked on the curb.
Though several stores in Savannah kept Society hours, the lingerie store wasn’t one of them. Its windows were dark when they arrived, and Linus wasted no time drawing on a sigil to pop the lock on the door. Flashing lights past the threshold warned of a security system, but he deactivated it with a swipe of his wrist too.
Clem shouldered in first, and Linus let him. Boaz was his friend, and he had a right to worry.
Adelaide came in behind Linus, then Corbin, and they spread out to begin their search.
Ten minutes later, they met up at the manager’s office at the back of the store.
“I got nothing.” Corbin checked with Clem. “You?”
“Nope.” He looked to Linus. “You?”
Linus shook his head then noticed Adelaide hadn’t joined them but remained apart. “Adelaide?”
“Do you hear that?” She cocked her head. “It’s like water dripping, but it’s too steady, too perfect.”
“I figured it for a leaky sink.” Clem tested the office door. “The employee bathroom must be in there.”
With a practiced twist of his wrist, Linus drew on a sigil to grant them access then stood back. It was that or get trampled as Clem took point. Adelaide wasn’t far behind, both of them desperate for another sign from Boaz.
The office was a tight rectangle with an even tighter kitchenette cluttering its rear. Two black doors, one marked as an exit, stood on the opposite wall.
Clem went straight to the bathroom, but he backed out fast. “Empty.”
Linus walked past the exit, on his way to examine the bathroom for the source of the dripping, and magic tingled along his senses. He turned to face the exit door and tested the push bar at its center. There was no give. The bar didn’t budge. And the tapping…stopped cold.
Corbin appeared at his shoulder. “Did you find something?”
“Perhaps.” He drew a sigil on his palm and swept it across the doorway, cataloging the density of magic. “There’s a ward on this section of wall. I’m not certain if there’s an actual door it’s protecting, or if it’s only glamoured to look that way.”
“I’ll circle around back,” Clem decided. “It’s in the right place for an exit, but it never hurts to be sure.”
After he went to try his luck with the door from the outside, Linus shooed Corbin and Adelaide back.
“I’m going to diffuse the glamour first, so we can see what we’re dealing with before we crack it open.”
And pray to the goddess their missing loved ones were revealed.
Twelve
Tuning out the worried come on
, come on, come on Adelaide kept chanting under her breath, Linus used a sigil to dent the glamour enough to see where to make his next hit, one that would disable it. The work struck him as familiar, but it wasn’t another of Leisha’s manufacture. This hand was far subtler.
A pulse of energy swept through the room as the exit door wavered and trembled before melting into a metal square, three feet by three feet, welded into the wall. The handle at its top reminded him of a laundry chute, but this was too industrial for that.
“Boaz could fit through there,” Adelaide said softly, as though reassuring herself. “Tight, but doable.”
“I’m going to break the ward.” Linus glanced over his shoulder. “Stand against the walls in case its more powerful than it appears.” As a protest parted Corbin’s lips, he held up his wrist to show the impervious sigil. “I’ll be fine.”
With Corbin and Adelaide in position, Linus withdrew his inkpot and a brush. He covered the rusted metal in the thicker medium, layering in protections for them while peeling back its defenses. Certain he had done his best to contain any martial repercussions, he drew on a combination of sigils that dissolved the ward and jarred the door open with a metallic whine of protest.
The drawerlike access point revealed a tunnel made of reinforced metal resembling an air duct. “Hello?”
The tap, tap, tapping resumed, and Linus glanced back to assess a new presence in the room.
Unsurprised to discover the wraith, he still chastised him. “You were supposed to remain with Grier.”
A skeletal hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Linus understood that habit had summoned Cletus, his own fear and nerves creating an irresistible beacon for the wraith.
“My apologies.” He gestured to the shaft. “While you’re here, do you mind?”
The wraith groaned assent and drifted into the opening. Trusting his allies—no, his friends—to watch his back, Linus shut his eyes and let the wraith’s vision cloud his until they were one and the same.
“The bottom is wiped clean of dust, but the sides and most of the top are thick with it.” Linus narrated for the others’ sakes. “They used this shaft. Recently. There’s no fresh accumulation.”
“That’s good news then,” Adelaide murmured. “See anything else?”
How to Rattle an Undead Couple (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 9) Page 13