Home > How to Save an Undead Life (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy #1)(10)

How to Save an Undead Life (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy #1)(10)
Author: Hailey Edwards

A small part of me wondered if that situation was me.

“I get that.” I pulled my bread from the toaster and slathered on the PB&J then cut off the crust. “Some responsibilities our loved ones leave behind are too large for us to shoulder alone.”

Surprise lit his features. “Just so.”

“About tonight—” If I had a lick of sense, I would tell him to buzz off and find another flower “—I have two late-late tours scheduled. I can’t break those engagements.”

Plus, I had to get Keet back in his cage and out of my bathroom, where I’d stashed him before bed. At least now he could hang in the living room near the windows overlooking the garden instead of being stuffed up in my room all the time.

“Are you available tomorrow?”

The way he said available made me think he meant something different than what rested on the surface. “Sundays aren’t usually as hectic, but I’m covering two tours for a friend.”

His chin dipped, as if he had expected the brushoff he apparently thought I had given him.

“What about Monday?” That gave me a small window to find answers about the bangle and arm myself with questions to ask about this proposed alliance of his. “We can do an early lunch in town.”

A smile overtook his face that caused my pulse to leap, bangle or no bangle. “Are you asking me out?”

I choked on my sandwich and stole his lemonade to wash it down. Pretty sure my response still came out as a gurgle.

“Your blush intoxicates, solnishko.” He lifted half his sandwich, bit into it, and let his eyes roll closed. A pleased rumble issued from his chest. “I want to repay your hospitality. We will meet Monday, and I will take you out for lunch.” He cut his eyes my way. “As you requested.”

“Okay.” I didn’t dare risk a longer response until I had drained his glass to the bottom. Thankfully, eternal life came with one heck of a boost to the old immune system, and I couldn’t catch anything from sharing. “I’ll pencil you in.”

“I make you nervous,” he observed.

Around him, I felt like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. “You’re a stranger.” A vampire. “In my home.” Even if said home had invited him in.

“After Monday, we will have spoken three times. We will be strangers no longer. We will be…” his lips pursed, “…friends.”

A laugh welled up in me. “Sure.”

Once I showed him the sights and he realized I had zero powers or influence, he would lose interest and our friendship would crash and burn alongside his offer of alliance. I just hoped he let me keep the bangle as a consolation prize. Having experienced the helplessness of confinement behind iron bars, the misery of having my will suppressed, the horror of doubting my own sanity, I could appreciate an accessory that protected me from a fraction of the population at least. Volkov, whether he knew it or not, had given me a gift potent with symbolism as well as being practical for our future dealings.

“I hear your doubt.” He finished his sandwich with equal rapture. “I will prove to you I am a constant man.”

I schooled my features into a bland mask. Seeing him as a man was not part of the plan. Even his use of the word rang hollow. Made vampires often referred to themselves as men or women, a habit some of them never broke, but born vampires had been taught the trick as camouflage to make them harder to distinguish from their brethren.

Volkov was a vampire, and vampires—born or made—meant trouble for me. No matter how sincere those thunderous eyes blazed, I couldn’t afford to let biology lead me around by the nose.

The doorbell chose that moment to ring, a pealing sound as joyful as laughter, and I had a good idea who to expect. So it was no surprise, three minutes later, to find myself squaring off with Boaz over the threshold.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be awake yet.”

“I’m not a total laze about.”

“No, but you worked late.” He inhaled, and the groan he released made my stomach tighten. “Is that a grilled cheese sandwich with extra butter I smell?”

“Yes, but I’m out of cheese. And bread.” And I really didn’t want him to discover I was harboring a vampire.

“Don’t hide from me.”

“Hello? I answered the door. I’m standing here, talking to you.” My guest? Yes, well, okay. Him, I was hiding. “I haven’t been grocery shopping because of those late nights you mentioned.”

“Is there a problem?” Volkov purred over my shoulder.

I closed my eyes on a groan then squinted up at Boaz. “This is not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’re cavorting with a vampire.” His gaze sharpened. “Are you out of cheese? Or is it O positive you’re low on?”

“Is this your boyfriend?” Volkov asked conversationally.

“No. He’s my—” I stalled out. “Neighbor?”

“Friend,” Boaz corrected through a flash of teeth. “Her very close friend.”

“Danill Volkov, meet Boaz Pritchard.” I gestured between them. “Boaz is my best friend’s big brother. His parents live next door.”

“You still live at home?” Volkov stood so close his heat caressed my spine. “I suppose in this economy…”

“I’m on leave.” Each word sliced through the air. “I haven’t been home in thirteen months, so yes. I will be staying with my family.” His gaze shifted to me. “Besides, my old room has the benefit of giving me a view of Grier’s bedroom window each morning. What more can a man ask for?”

“Boaz, did you need something?” I restrained the urge to throttle him. “Or are you only here to validate my decision to invest in blackout curtains?”

“I can’t find the key to Jolene.” He indicated a toolbox and a bulging plastic bag he’d left on the top step. “Figured the old girl was due for a tune-up.”

“Oh.” I deflated. “Guess I should have seen this coming.” I palmed the keychain off the console table where I’d dropped it last night. “Here you go.”

“Tuck in your bottom lip.” He tapped my chin up with his fingertip. “Amelie told me you’ve been using her to get to work. I’m not here to steal your transportation.”

Volkov uttered a growl that dared Boaz to try, but we both ignored him.

“She’s yours. You can take her any time you want.” Generous of me to give him back his own bike. “I’ll figure something out. Really, it’s okay.”

He shook his head at my stubbornness. “Do you have a dollar?”

“Yeah.” I pulled a wrinkled bill from my pocket and offered it to him. “What do I owe you for the oil and the filter I see in that bag? A dollar won’t cover those.”

“Congratulations. You just bought yourself a bike.” He turned on his heel. “I’ll draw up the papers. You can sign them later.”

“You can’t sell me Jolene.” I chased him across the porch. “You love that bike.”

“I bought a new one this morning.”

My jaw dropped. “Why would you—?”

“Don’t pester me, Squirt, or I might change my mind.” He raised his hand as he set off toward the garage. “Later.”

“Later,” I murmured.

“I should go.”

A flush warmed my cheeks. I’d forgotten Volkov was still here. “Sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, and certainly not to me.” He took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “I look forward to seeing you again soon. I will call to make arrangements.”

“You have my number.” It came out as an accusation. “Why does that not surprise me?”

The sharp edge of his grin made zero apologies for him getting what he wanted.

“Thanks for the gift.” I trailed him down the steps onto the lawn where his driver waited. “I’ll think on what you said.” And the implications of all he hadn’t said.

“Good.” He inclined his head. “Good night, Grier.”

“Night, Mr. Volkov.”

“Danill,” he corrected. “We’re friends, remember?”

“Danill,” I agreed, willing to play nice until I got my answers. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

The bangle caught the light as I jogged back up on the porch, and I whirled it around my wrist. I had to admit it was as pretty as it was creepy. Since I had yet to go out tonight, I curled my toes against the cool planks, shut my eyes and brushed my thoughts against the wards encircling Woolworth House.

A percussive blast radiated through my skull as a warning chimed in my head. A new quadrant had been weakened within feet of the last assault. Almost as though someone were systematically checking Woolly’s defenses.

That…was not good.

Hard to know who presented the more tempting target. Me or Woolly. Neither of us were inviolable.

Woolly should have reached out to me when she was in danger, not let it pass. Unless the reason she no longer mentally pinged me when the wards got buzzed was because I was too weak to hear her sound the alarm. That weakness might also explain why she’d rolled out the red carpet for our fangy guest.

After spending time with Volkov, I had no doubt he’d orchestrated our first meeting to occur at a time when I was professionally obligated not to turn tail and run. But he’d also chosen an environment where I would be surrounded by witnesses despite the late hour, humans, who he couldn’t reveal himself to on that scale without dire consequences, Last Seed or not, so there was that. He had wanted me comfortable and relaxed, not intimidated.

That left me with the second vampire as a possible suspect, the one with a master eager to make my acquaintance. Or, even worse, another necromancer.

Rivals might have been attempting to crack Woolly like the safe she was all along. Her treasure trove of necromantic knowledge and artifacts were priceless to the Society. Desperation could be making them reckless now that I was home to defend her. Of course my being home might also be the issue.

   
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