“That’s not the word I would use, no.” Cruz didn’t do close. Neely was the sole exception to my knowledge. “More like he’s tolerant of me because Neely values our friendship.” And that was stretching things. “He still gives me stink eye because he found me alone and half-naked in the men’s changing room with Neely once.”
Goop dribbled from his trowel. “Any particular reason why?”
“Why he gives me stink eye, or why I was alone with Neely?”
“I understand why Cruz might find it odd to discover a naked woman with his husband.” Linus didn’t stumble over acknowledging their union, smoothing hackles I hadn’t sensed rising in anticipation of a defense I was grateful to avoid. “What were you doing?”
“Amelie covered the first part of my shift the night Keet died, again, and I had to sneak in to work late in order to avoid getting written up.” Hard to believe there was once a time where that was the worst thing that could happen to me. “He figured the last place she’d look was upstairs, where the guys change, so that’s where he stashed me.”
A soft laugh escaped him. “Sometimes I forget how human you can be.”
The same hackles I’d thought soothed snapped to bristling attention. How common. That’s what he meant. Low Society necromancers had little to no magic. They earned human degrees, worked human jobs, lived human lives, albeit much longer ones, and the two people I loved most hailed from that caste. Factor in Neely, and I had an actual human friend. Compare that against my whopping zero High Society pals, and yeah, I wasn’t the caliber of girl Linus was acclimated to by a long shot. In hindsight, maybe his mother had only sent him over for playdates with me as a social experiment.
“Maud raised me to be integrated into their world.” Now I had to wonder why, and I hated questioning her ghost. Not in the literal sense. Thank goodness for small mercies. “The previous Grande Dame stripped me of almost everything I had and tossed me in a hole to rot. The High Society, including your mother, did nothing to protect me. Humans, and my Low Society friends, offered me a hand up when I had nothing.” I stood and dusted off my knees. “Forgive me if I can’t find the insult in being human. It beats being inhumane by a mile.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He reached for me, and his fingertips trailed down the seam of my jeans. “Grier, please.”
“I’m going to bed.” I stepped out of his reach. “Keep your wraith out of my room from now on.”
Picking my way over his supplies, I shoved through the gate. From the corner of my eye, I saw him sigh as if I frustrated him before he returned to his work. And the hell of it was, I felt guilty for giving him a hard time when he had insulted me.
Oh, yes. The Grande Dame had chosen my tutor well. Her spies would have told her I was clinging to my childhood friends. While Linus wasn’t exactly that, given his antisocial tendencies, she must have figured I would still prefer someone I shared history with over a stranger. She was right about that. But she was wrong if she thought tossing us together like salad fixings would make us mix any better than last time.
Linus had the good sense not to send Cletus to wake me from my nightmare the following dusk. He let me come aware on my own, screaming bloody murder as usual. Woolly made inquiring noises, but she let me off the hook when I assured her the dream was the same as always.
I had ideas about what it meant, what repressed memories skittered through my brain at night like cockroaches while my consciousness thinned enough for them to press into the forefront of my mind. But grasping for the fading tendrils was like raking a hand through a wraith. You came away empty-handed and disturbed by the experience.
Determined to be a model student, I showered and dressed casually before tucking the grimoire, who I decided to name Eileen in honor of its plentitude of eyeballs, under my arm. The flutter of its paper-thin lids against my skin made me grateful for the absence of ticklish eyelashes. That would have been too weird, too humanizing.
The carriage house smelled as delicious when I arrived as it had last night, and my stomach gurgled a greeting when Linus met me at the door. Pretty sure when your intestinal tract starts holding conversations with people it’s cause for alarm. But bacon.
“I’m sorry I blew up at you.” I had a right to be angry about a lot of things, but not even half of them were his fault, and when had stomping away ever solved a problem? “You know how Maud raised me. You know who my friends are, what they are, and you know what I think of the High Society.” And your mother. “Can we agree to avoid hot-button topics?”
“I apologize for intimating there was anything wrong with being who you are, and I didn’t mean the comment on your humanity as an insult against you or your friends.” He lowered his chin, his attention catching on the grimoire. “You won’t believe me, but I meant it as a compliment.”
He was right. I couldn’t fathom him using human in a positive context. But breakfast smelled good, progress was happening on Woolly, and I wasn’t in a mood to argue this early. “What’s my lesson for today?”
“First, we eat.” He stepped back then escorted me to the table. “I got distracted with a book I’m reading, so I went simple. I hope you like omelets. And bacon, of course.”
“I like anything I don’t have to cook,” I answered honestly as he passed me a plate that looked picture perfect, the browned crescent of fluffy egg overflowing with ham, bacon, and cheddar. “This looks incredible.” A thought hit me as I took my first bite. “Are you feeding me because you were told the way to my heart was through my stomach? I mean, it’s true. Obviously. I’m just curious.”
“I’m feeding you because I don’t like dining alone. Usually I eat in the cafeteria with the other faculty members.” He kept his eyes on his plate, moving food around with his fork. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. You need the calories.” He took a bite and puckered his brow like the flavor wasn’t quite what he’d aimed for, though I had no complaints. I wolfed mine down in record time. “Consider it a trade. You keep me company, and I’ll help you replace all the calories Taz burns.”
The reminder I had a session with her in a few hours made me groan. “It’s a deal, but I’m pitching in on the groceries. It’s not fair for you to foot the bill and cook. Actually, make me a list, and I’ll supply all the food since you’re providing me with a personal chef.”
“There’s one small problem with your generous offer. I usually don’t know what I’m going to cook until I’m doing it.”
“Oh.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Then I’ll load up on the usual suspects and let you do with them what you will.”
A spark of amusement glinted in his eyes. He must think it ridiculous that I cared about pulling my own weight or paying him back when neither of us was hurting for money, but it mattered to me. A few weeks ago, I had been living off ramen and oatmeal without a penny to my name. As fast as I had been named an heiress, it could all vanish. It had once already. There was nothing stopping it from happening again. Solving all my problems with plastic in the meantime would only make things worse if it did.
“That sounds fair,” he agreed with a tiny smile, and he opened a notebook with the word syllabus scrawled in cursive across the front. “As for your assignment, I hope you don’t mind the clothes you’re wearing getting dirty. We’re working outside today. We need to focus on the physical foundation repairs before we start on the magical ones. Woolly is our priority.”
Heartened by the sentiment—one I wholeheartedly shared—I forgot my earlier annoyance. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“We’re going to apply a second layer of concrete to the foundation. I primed all four sides last night to ensure I had perfected the mixture. The next is your responsibility.”
“I can handle that.”
“Your homework tonight will be practicing the sigils for hardening and waterproofing.”
“Hear that, Eileen?” I petted the grimoire. “I’ll be defiling your pages tonight.”
Linus hesitated, lips parted, and I wasn’t certain which part of what I’d said had stalled him out. Was my pun that terrible? Or was he worried what I meant by defiling? Either way, he shook his head and kept reading from the paper.
“We’ll also be using ink from Maud’s supplies.” Before I could argue over the waste, he raised a hand. “We don’t know what mixing in your blood would do to Woolly, and using mine would fundamentally link me to her. You don’t want that, so we don’t have many options. Any blood used in the repairs will give that person a back door into the wards.”
As much as I hated parting with even a drop of such a precious resource, I understood his concerns. “I appreciate you explaining this to me. You could have used your blood, and I wouldn’t have known the difference.” Until it jumped up and bit me on the butt, at least. I felt like a heel, but I put it out there anyway. “Why did you tell me? A back door would save you the headache the next time you need an in.”
“The fact you’ve realized there will be a next time should be answer enough.”
“You’re protecting me from yourself.” Again, I had to ask, “Why?”
“Do you need to change?” He carried his plate to the sink and fed his omelet to the disposal. “You might want to tie your hair back so it doesn’t get in your face once we start.”
Tempted as I was to press him for an answer, I decided his reasons didn’t matter as much as the outcome. Though I was starting to get curious about his dietary needs. The man loved to cook, that much was obvious, but he pecked at his food like a bird.
“I’m good.” I had dressed nice for him, but even my nice was thrift store-caliber nice. I carried my plate and our cups to the sink while he filled one side with sudsy water. I almost suggested the dishwasher, but then I remembered what he’d said about cleaning when he needed to think, and I claimed the spot beside him. “I wanted to thank you.”