“You slept in the hall outside my room,” Linus explained, rescuing my aperitif before I knocked it over with my flailing. “I found you when I got home.”
“I must have fallen asleep in your bed.” Slumping down, I rubbed my eyes. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind.” He shifted to his left, but I saw the chair he had positioned into the doorway of his room. A new sketchbook rested on two hefty tomes under it, and a jar full of colored pencils topped it off like a cherry on a sundae. “I wasn’t sure if you walked here from your room.” His gaze tagged the landing. “I worried you might fall down the stairs if you got turned around, so I kept watch.”
Embarrassment propelled me to my feet. “Please tell me you didn’t draw me.”
Linus blocked the doorway to guard his prize. “How could I resist?”
“Show me.” I held out my hand. “I want to see.”
“Are you sure?”
Not really. “Yes.”
“Promise me you won’t destroy it.” He scanned my face. “I’m partial to the subject matter.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, crossing my toes. “I won’t destroy it.”
Poor, trusting Linus retrieved his sketchbook, lifted the cover, and spun it on his palm. I was about to make a liar out of myself when I saw what he had drawn. Me. Asleep. Curled up in his blanket outside his door like a baby bird kicked out of her nest. I looked…peaceful. Content. Safe. Clearly, he had taken liberal artistic license.
“Well?” He nudged my foot with the tip of his shoe, proving he knew me too well. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure who the model is, but it’s a lovely piece.” I traced the dark strands of hair fanned across the hardwood. “You’re a talented artist.”
“Your dreams aren’t all nightmare,” he told me. “The worst comes before dusk.”
“That sounds about right.” I passed the drawing back to him. “The nightmare feels longer, though.”
“Nightmares always do.”
An unsettling quiet filled the space between us, and the light dimmed in his expression.
Out of time for make believe, I gathered my nerve. “What did you find?”
“Boaz was right. The house is empty. There’s no furniture, no art on the walls, no pots in the kitchen, no clothes in the closet.” He flattened his lips into a hard line. “There’s no trace of Odette, and no sign she plans on returning.”
“I don’t understand.” A childlike whine threaded my voice. “I spoke to her last week. She told me she was going to visit a client. She wouldn’t have just left. Not without telling me. Something must have happened to her.”
“There were no signs of a struggle.”
“I want to see for myself.” I touched his arm. “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”
“I understand.” His hand settled over mine. “I’ve already informed Hood we’ll be driving out to Tybee.”
“I’ll go change.” I slipped past him. “We can deal with Corbin when we get back.”
Tiny brackets framed his mouth, but he let me go and went to ready his things.
Woolly, the little eavesdropper, informed me Corbin was sleeping in with a flash of insight through our bond. He was probably exhausted from his escape and the drive here. Good. He could catch eighty winks as far as I was concerned. Odette was family, and family trumped progeny in this case.
After I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a clean tee, I braided my hair and slung my backpack across my shoulders.
Linus met me on the stairs, and we walked down together.
Hood and Lethe waited for us in the living room. She was snacking her way through a bowl of popcorn, but she stopped cramming her face long enough to smile at me. Hood stole a piece, and she growled at him. He tweaked her nose, finding her adorable, and Lethe snapped at his fingers. Before they progressed to full-on love bites, I clapped my hands to get their attention.
“Lethe, can you stay here and watch Corbin? He’s still asleep, but he’ll wake up hungry.”
“There’s more blood in the fridge,” Linus added before a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “From all the donors Grier rejected. Corbin might as well drink up. She won’t touch it.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have one of those juice box straws with a tapered end.” I mimed piercing his carotid artery. “Otherwise, I would so stab you right now.”
The man was far too pleased with himself for being tasty. But I wasn’t much better, snarling over my preferred vintage when vampires got too close to him, so I had no room to talk.
“Sure thing.” She stomped Hood’s instep on her way past him to the couch. “I’m always left behind. Why would tonight be any different?”
Glancing between them, I had to wonder if I hadn’t walked in on a fight larger than food. Granted, not much ranked higher than grub with Lethe, but she wasn’t usually this violent over non-meat snacks.
Hood tossed the van keys in the air. “Do you want to drive them?”
“No.” She shoveled a handful in her mouth, giving her chipmunk cheeks. “That’s your job.”
“I’m staying with the vampire.” Hood folded his arms across his broad chest. “You go with Grier.”
“I won’t, and you can’t make me.” She reached for the remote, smearing butter all over the buttons. I bet Linus—my little neat freak—was dying inside, but he kept his agony to himself. He could always wipe it clean later, when there wasn’t a cranky gwyllgi guarding it. “I’m going to sit here, stuff my face, and veg out while this parasite bloats me.”
Parasite? That was a new one.
“You okay?” I inched closer. “You’re more bite than bark tonight.”
“I’m fine,” she snarled at me. “Back. Off.”
I took her suggestion literally. Gwyllgi reflexes put necromancers to shame. “This is me, backing off.”
When Linus took my elbow, I didn’t fight him as he led me outside and away from Lethe. Hood followed, but he kept glancing behind him to where Lethe was eviscerating her snack with brutal chomps.
“I’m not going to suggest it’s hormones,” I told him, “but I would like to know what’s up with her.”
“She got challenged for her position as second in the Atlanta pack.” He scoffed. “Via text message.”
“The cowards waited until she was pregnant and out of town to hit her with this? Even then, they didn’t have the courage to do it to her face?” I curled my fingers into fists at my sides. “Can she fight in her condition?”
Blanching, Hood checked to see if she’d heard, then exhaled with relief when she continued ignoring us.
“Never imply she’s not fit to defend her rank. She’ll kill you for the insult to her pride.” Pinching my arm in a viselike grip, he hauled me stumbling to the gate. “Though she would feel bad about it later.”
“Oh, well, that makes it hunky-dory,” I whisper-screamed. “I’m warning you now that if she eats me, I’ll give her indigestion for the rest of her life. Your children and great-grandchildren will rue the day she gobbled me like a Thanksgiving turkey.”
“Slow down, drumstick.” Hood chuckled. “Thanksgiving is a human holiday.”
“No, it’s a major food holiday,” Linus reminded him. “Grier celebrates all those.”
“There’s no law against a necromancer celebrating Turkey Day,” I pointed out, and they both laughed.
Being raised with a foot in each world, the way I and most Low Society necromancers were, was an invitation to adopt the human holidays that suited us. For me, that involved most all of them. Any excuse to eat was a good reason to celebrate in my book.
“She has her priorities straight,” Hood said, amused. “You’re definitely pack with that bottomless pit you call a stomach. You’re practically gwyllgi.”
“I choose to view that as a compliment.” I passed through the gate. “Let’s go to Tybee.”
On the way, I used an app to order Lethe five burgers, five fries, and five chocolate shakes with whipped cream and cherries.
With any luck, the extra calories ought to make her easier to live with until her inner beast settled again.
From the mint-green siding to the peppermint-pink shutters, from the white trim accenting the eaves to the clear plastic sealing the windows to keep it cool, Odette’s bungalow on Tybee Island had always reminded me of hard candy still in the wrapper.
Hood parked in the sandy driveway, and I approached the front door. I knocked, waited. No one answered. I knocked again, waited longer. Still no response. I gave it a go for a third time, but the results were the same.
Odette wasn’t here. No surprise there. I was only prolonging the inevitable.
“The door was unlocked when I was here earlier,” Linus offered. “I didn’t lock it after I left.”
Gathering up my nerve, I tested the knob. As Linus said, it spun without resistance. I pushed in, and the sight punched me in the gut.
The bone-white couch, the driftwood coffee table, the local art hung here and there. All gone.
When I breathed in the air, it tasted stale. Old. Faded. The perfume of her incense was a whispered suggestion.
A loud sneeze blasted from Hood as he entered the living room. He glanced up at me through red-rimmed eyes and sneezed again. Water poured down his cheeks, and snot dripped from his nose.
He looked like someone had hosed him with pepper spray.
“What’s wrong?” I gripped his arm when he swayed. “Hood?”
“Get him outside.” Linus took his other side. “He needs fresh air.”
Thankfully, Hood walked out under his own power. He allowed me to navigate since his puffy eyes were swelling closed. With his sinuses blocked, he was nose-blind too. Depending on me was a huge show of faith for a predator, and I firmed my grip on him, determined to be worthy of his trust.