And the longer trip promised extended cuddle time. “This is perfect.”
“Evening, folks,” the older gentleman said with a syrupy drawl. “These are my friends, Prince and Bowie, and we’re pleased to be your escort home.”
Linus opened the half door on the carriage and helped me up onto the bench facing forward. He joined me a moment later, and I tucked myself under his arm before he finished lifting it.
“I won’t break,” I promised. “You can hold on as tight as you want.”
Permission granted, he pulled me across his chest and rested his chin on the crown of my head. His arms came around me, and he held me like he might never get another chance.
Maybe my run-in with the chuckler in the hall had made him nervous, but a tiny part of me worried there was another reason.
These were the moments when I braced for the worst, when I expected the other shoe to drop. I waited and waited, and the longer I kept vigil, the more convinced I became that the impact would level what I was building with Linus.
He told me once that he was a secret bound in a thin skin of humanity.
I knew that. I accepted that. I respected that.
But I had been hurt so many times I couldn’t shake the dread this would be the deepest cut yet.
Linus might worry that I would get tired of him, that I would leave him, but I was the one who hadn’t burned our marriage contract.
After the driver set out, I took the liberty of testing a sigil I had been toying with for the past few days. I used the modified pen to draw it on each of us then settled in to discuss options for dealing with Corbin.
“How certain are you that this sigil works?” Linus twisted his hand back and forth, admiring my work.
“I tested it out on Hood. I figure if a gwyllgi can’t hear me blasting music through my Bluetooth speaker, then a human won’t hear me having a conversation.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth and then admitted, “I’ll be honest. It’s had a fifty percent success rate. I also tried it on Lethe, but she found me.”
“Why do I feel there’s more to the story?”
Pulling back to see his face, I tried to act offended. “Why are you so suspicious?”
“With you two, there’s always more. Hood had no idea what he was unleashing when he introduced her to you.”
“I might have been eating a cheeseburger at the time,” I confessed. “She sniffed me out.”
“That I can believe.”
“She’s eating for two,” I reminded him in the same tone she used. “She needs those extra calories.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He tightened his arms around me. “I’m glad they’re your responsibility and not mine.”
“On the topic of responsibilities…” I buried my face against his chest. “Corbin needs to learn how to vampire. He’s a danger to humans until he’s taught how to feed. He needs outside connections for blood when donors aren’t an option. Given his history, he’ll never forgive himself if he hurts someone.”
“We could send him to Reardon.” Linus cupped the back of my head. “He would be safe at Strophalos.”
“Reardon is a dysfunctional vampire, and a shut-in.”
Reardon McAllister was a made vampire with no clan affiliation since his necromancer wife turned him against his will after he sustained life-threatening injuries in a carriage accident early in their marriage. He was a human victimized by vampires, and that placed him under the Grande Dame’s purview. Since Corbin was running from the Grande Dame, no matter how secure Strophalos was, he wasn’t safe there.
“I will admit Reardon might not be the best choice to teach a fledgling vampire to hunt when he can’t leave campus. The faculty frowns on eating students.”
“I have a crazy thought.” I looked up at him. “What if we dump him in Grandpa’s lap?”
“Your grandfather would take him in.” His lips thinned. “He would love to have a Deathless in his ranks. I worry what it would mean for your relationship with Mother. She won’t take kindly to losing her prize.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” I sat up straighter. “You had trouble believing he busted out of prison. I can’t speak to the facility where they sent him—it sounds like minimum security at best—but I can tell you the sentinels take their jobs seriously. I can’t see him escaping without help. I’m not saying he’s lying. He might believe he got lucky, but I don’t.”
Any narrower and his mouth would disappear. “You think she let him go.”
“Why would she feed him all that information about me—down to my city—if she didn’t intend for him to run straight to me? She knew his history, knew his family would shun him, knew the vampires would kill him outright, knew the necromancers wouldn’t dare hide him for fear of retribution. He has no one, nothing. He’s alone in the world, and she knows me well enough to guess I would take him in.”
“You saved his life.”
“Did I?” Life was a loaded word for the existence he faced now. “Or did I condemn him?”
Most humans would be grateful for this turn of events, but most hadn’t grown up hunting the very thing he now was either.
“Ultimately, that’s up to him to decide. Eternity is what he makes of it.”
“You’re very Team Grier.” I leaned in closer. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“No.” He pitched his voice low. “Though I’m sure others have suspected.”
The reality of what we were contemplating sank in as the humor of the moment faded.
“Your mother knew I wouldn’t shelter him long term.” I might help him disappear, but I wouldn’t make a production out of it. “Given Lacroix’s doting-grandparent act at the ball, she must be gambling he would be eager to make amends for his transgressions. He wants to give that appearance anyway. She expects me to yank on those family ties to protect my progeny out of a sense of obligation.” I whistled softly. “She wants a plant among Lacroix’s vampires.”
Lost in thought, he let the scenery draw his eye. “The trap does appear to be set.”
“Corbin fosters with Lacroix, learns the ins and outs of vampirehood, and maps how the organization works.” I put it all in words to test how crazy it sounded. “Assuming the intel is good, your mother offers him amnesty for his past crimes.”
The sales pitch was easy to imagine with all the Society’s resources at her fingertips.
Join the Undead Coalition.
Have your pick of clans—or maybe even start your own.
Just keep playing mole, stay buried, and share all the dirt on Lacroix’s plans.
“The timing is suspect,” Linus admitted. “Mother met Lacroix at the ball, and a week later your progeny arrives on your doorstep with him the logical haven.”
“Hmm. Then it’s decided.”
A wary expression crossed his features. “Dare I ask?”
Snuggling in for the remainder of the ride, I confessed, “I’m going to make Corbin an offer he can’t refuse.”
Corbin was sitting on the couch, watching television, and eating a bowl of cereal left over from Amelie’s marshmallowism days. I watched through the window, expecting a flash of red or pink to coat the small frosted pieces, but when he turned up his bowl to slurp, milk dribbled down his chin.
Plain. White. Milk.
“Are you seeing this?” I murmured to Linus. “He’s eating. Actual food.”
Volkov once ate a grilled cheese sandwich in my kitchen, but he was a Last Seed. They were born from a newly turned male vampire knocking up a willing surrogate before his sperm died too.
Deathless, even though they were made, must share more traits with LS than your standard vampire.
“Interesting.” Linus came up behind me. “The blood wasn’t enough.”
“This might explain why your mother left hunting out of his curriculum. He can’t require much blood to survive if he can still process food for nutrients.”
We watched a moment longer before Corbin felt eyes on him. He wiped his mouth dry with the back of his hand then scowled at our huddle and started for the kitchen with his bowl.
The eaves creaked overhead, Woolly snickering at us getting caught, and she opened the front door.
Once inside, I glared up at the foyer chandelier. “You couldn’t have flicked a curtain to hide us?”
The crystals tinkled with her laughter, and the sound made my heart light.
“How’s Oscar?” I glanced around, but he hadn’t come to greet us. “Still sleeping?”
The floorboards made a groaning noise that conveyed her worry over the ghost boy.
“I’ll check on him before I go to bed.” I lingered in the foyer. “What about Corbin?”
The lights brightened, giving the impression the old house liked him. How much of that was my energy coursing through him versus his own merit, I wasn’t sure.
“We’re not keeping him,” I warned her. “We’re not running a B&B here.”
Odette once accused Woolly of being a halfway house for broken dreamers. She wasn’t wrong. We had taken in our fair share of strays. I preferred to believe most would be rehabilitated during their stay, and I could release them back into the wild.
Thinking of Odette made my chest pinch until I rubbed the spot, not that it soothed the ache.
Corbin was loading the dishwasher when I came upon him. Tidy. I liked him better already.
“You eat,” I stated the obvious. “Actual food.” Well, cereal. “You couldn’t have mentioned that sooner?”
“I’m a freak of nature.” He leaned against the counter. “I didn’t want to spook you.”
“Hey, freak of nature is my line.” I dropped onto a barstool. “And you’re not going to scare me. You can’t be worse than I am. I made you, remember?”
“Hard to forget.”