How to Claim an Undead Soul (Beginner's Guide to Necromancy #2)(16)

A sigh gusted over the line. “Step outside.”

“Oookay.” I pointed toward the door so Amelie knew where I was headed, waved off her protest, then stepped out onto the sidewalk. Still alone as far as I could tell. “What am I supposed to be—?” Movement above my head had me slapping the air like a bee might land on me. “Oh, my goddess.”

“Grier, it’s all right.”

Tipping my head back put me face-to-faceless with his pet wraith. “You’re spying on me?”

He scoffed at me. Actually scoffed. “You really believed I let you leave without protection?”

“No?” I backed toward the door, unnerved when the wraith followed like a lost puppy. “I expected Elite sentinels dressed in catsuits prowling through the bushes, tracking my every move. Not this.”

The mental picture of Boaz crammed into a spandex jumpsuit made me snort, until I was tugging at my collar when my imagination supplied an image of all that muscle wrapped in one stretchy package. Oh, geez. I was not going to think about packages. Nope. Nah-uh. No way. My brain was a delivery-free zone.

“You already felt caged by the agreement you made with Mother,” he murmured. “I didn’t feel inclined to point out the bars.”

Learning he could monitor me so easily didn’t come as a shock, exactly. Wraiths made perfect spies and assassins. Stealthy and silent, they blended with the night. But he should have warned me that the bodyguard he had selected for me lacked, well, a body.

“I prefer to know where the bars are.” I miscalculated my retreat and bumped into the display window. “Comes in handy for figuring out how to squeeze through them.”

“You need protection. You’re not safe on the streets alone.”

As much as I wanted to fling it in his face that Amelie was with me, that I wasn’t alone, we both knew she and I had failed to save my skin the last time. Necromancers weren’t built to combat vampires. Magic was our only hope, and that defense required tools, preparation, and time assailants didn’t allow before attacking.

“I understand you have to take precautions.” I was proud of how even I kept my tone when what I really wanted to do was track him down and thump him soundly on the head. “But next time you take preventative measures, give me a heads-up, okay?”

“Do you object to the wraith?” he asked without answering me.

“No.” Better the shadow than the man himself. “I’m getting used to it hanging around.” The creature inclined its head as though appraising me. “How sentient is it?”

“When fully bonded, they possess limited faculties. They follow orders. That’s all. They remain in a type of stasis when they’re not deployed.”

“Is it male or female?” I studied the billowing hood, the gnarled fingers, and had no clue.

“They’re spirit and bone. That’s it. That’s all.”

How sad to be reduced to an it when you once were a person. “I’m going to call him Cletus. He looks like a Cletus.”

A choking noise filled my ear. “You’re going to what?”

“Cletus,” I enunciated clearly. “You can thank me for naming him later.”

“If it makes you more comfortable to humanize it, fine.” He sighed. “You can call it Cletus.”

“I’m going to give Amelie a ride back to her car, then I’ll head home.” Realizing he would be there, even if it was across the way, struck me as oddly comforting. “See you at dusk for our first lesson.”

“Sleep well.” He hesitated. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Thanks.” Nothing short of magical or pharmaceutical intervention would suppress the dream, and I’d had enough of being suppressed to last a lifetime. “I can manage.”

After warning me he couldn’t promise to always be at the carriage house when I needed him, we exchanged cell numbers and ended the call. I paused a moment to wonder where he might be going at night but reminded myself it was none of my business. He was born in Savannah and raised here too. He had family in town, and friends. He probably had work too. His mother wasn’t the type to let a valuable resource go to waste, and I would only take up a few hours of his nights.

I strolled back into Mallow to find Amelie ordering us to-go chocolates, proving why she was the best friend a girl could have, and I sidled up to her. “We’re good to go.”

“Is Linus coming?” She kicked up an eyebrow. “Or dispatching someone?”

“He already has.” I picked up the tab before she could dip into her wallet. “We’re safe to go as soon as our order is filled.”

“He’s having you followed,” she said, thinking it over. “Good idea.”

“I wish he would have told me,” I grumbled.

“Would you have thanked him or fought him?”

I cut her a smile. “What do you think?”

“I get the feeling Linus is going to have his hands full with you.”

Poor guy. I got the feeling she was right.





Four





After spending a week cooped up at home, my night out drained me. I parked Jolene and started toward the front porch, ready to grab a shower and update Woolly on all the gossip we’d missed over the past few weeks. Rustling in the bushes pulled me up short, and I sent up a prayer to Hecate that Taz hadn’t come back for seconds. Creeping around the side of the house, I went to investigate and spotted a flash of red hair. “Linus?”