How to Claim an Undead Soul (Beginner's Guide to Necromancy #2)(6)
About what I’d expected to hear but still comforting to learn that even the vaunted Lawson reach was limited.
“Well, thank you.” The thing was so ugly, it was almost cute. “It was kind of you to think of me.”
“Ah.” He held up a finger. “You haven’t asked what it does.”
I examined it for clues. “Other than blink creepily?”
“Write a combination sigil, something basic, but leave a quarter of it unfinished.”
I did as he instructed then waited for the magic to happen.
“Close the book.” He gave it about thirty seconds. “Open the cover.”
“The book completed the sigil,” I marveled. “How?”
“More eyes on a problem make for less work.”
I laughed under my breath. “That is such teacher logic.”
He shuffled my quiz papers into a neat stack then turned to carry them back to the office. I captured him by the wrist, and his pulse jumped under my fingertips. Wisps of black clouded his eyes when he glanced back until he blinked them clear, and I loosened my grip.
“Thank you,” I said again, meaning it this time. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” he countered, holding so still he seemed to enjoy being caught. “I want to help you, Grier.”
Him and everyone else with something to gain, but all this help was five years too late in coming.
“I should go.” I released him and stood in a rush, snagging the grimoire at the last moment. I couldn’t afford to forget why he was here or who had sent him. “This—” I gestured around the mess we’d made in the kitchen, “—was nice.”
His gaze dipped to the chair I had vacated. “What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?”
Boxes of oatmeal, all bought on clearance, awaited me in the pantry. “Reconstituting dried fruit?”
“Would you consider joining me?” Linus still hadn’t glanced up from my seat. “I have bacon.”
How could I say no to that? “Are nightly pop quizzes going to be a thing with us?”
A smile flirted with his lips. “It’s not a pop quiz if I warn you ahead of time.”
Flushing because he was right, and I wanted to impress him despite the nagging voice warning me not to care what he thought of me, I darted through the door into the cool garden before I stuck my foot in my mouth again. I might eat a lot of PB&J, but toe jam was not my favorite flavor.
Two
I was kneeling on the grass, pinching the drowsy heads off a row of peonies, when a curvy Indian woman about my height cranked open the side gate leading into the garden. She strode through the four connected archways dripping with fragrant jasmine and clusters of lavender wisteria to stand before me. Her outfit of tight black tee and fatigues clued me in to her identity seconds before her boot swung at my head.
I dodged—okay, I fell flat on my back like a turtle—and shrilled, “Are you insane?”
The flash of her teeth was dazzling. “Maybe.”
“You must be Taslima.” I accepted the hand she offered like an idiot. “I’m Grier.”
“Anyone who’s known Boaz more than thirty seconds knows who you are down to what size panties you wear.” She used her grip to yank me to my feet. “Either you’ve lost weight recently, or he hasn’t gotten in your pants yet. He’s off two sizes by my estimate.”
While oddly flattered he had spoken of me to his friends, I was still going to murder him for what he had told them. “The answer is both.”
Using her iron grip, she reeled me stumbling into her, putting us chest to chest, and latched her arms around me. A manic grin split her cheeks while I gasped for breath. “You can call me Taz.”
“Taz,” I wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”
She yielded not one inch. “Do something about it.”
Dots flickered in my vision before my brain got the message she wasn’t kidding. With my arms trapped at my sides and her body plastered against mine, all I could do was slam my forehead into her nose with as much power as I could leverage.
A sickening crunch made me regret the hearty breakfast I’d eaten, but her arms loosened enough for me to wriggle out of her hold.
Backing toward the porch, I couldn’t swallow down my reflexive manners. “Are you okay?”
“Did Volkov ask if you were okay when he kidnapped you?” The promise of swelling muffled her voice. “And if he did, tell me you weren’t dumb enough to stand around cataloging your boo-boos.”
My heel banged against the bottom step, and I turned to climb onto the porch.
A hard kick took out the back of my left knee, and I crumpled. Taz followed that up with a boot to my spine that made me cry out before she clocked me across the mouth. I face-planted in the grass and regretted ever asking Boaz for help. Clearly his choice of tutor was deranged. Had she misunderstood this was basic self-defense and not an assassination attempt?
“Get up,” Taz snapped. “You’re wasting my time if you don’t even try.”
Blood dribbled down my chin from a split in my bottom lip. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and focused on the vermilion bindi dotted between her eyebrows until the two Tazes floating in my vision merged into one. And then I blinked again.