His sudden release plopped me back on my butt, but he steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. “Which sigil do you have in mind?”
“That’s the something part.” I squirmed under his regard. “I figure if instinct got me into this mess, then instinct can get me out again.”
“All right.” He shifted closer, extended a hand, and waited. “I’m ready.”
“You’re not worried I’ll maim you?” I cradled his palm in mine. “A necromancer’s hands are their livelihood.”
“I trust you.” He gave my words back to me. “Besides, I won’t exactly be destitute with or without them.”
“There is that.” I snorted a laugh. “Okay, here we go.”
Closing my eyes, I gave myself free rein to design. Pretending his skin was no different than the pages of my grimoire, I followed the tug in my gut to dictate each curl and swoop. A flush warmed his fingers, and my eyes popped open. I was terrified I had managed to set him on fire for real.
The angry redness in his hands disappeared, fading along with the feverish heat, until I held his cool fingers in mine, his skin smooth and flawless. Well, except for the charming freckles I suspected covered every inch of him.
And that was not a helpful thought to have while sitting on his bed.
“All better.” I capped the pen and set it on the mattress to prevent more accidental touching. “See for yourself.”
“This is remarkable.” Linus examined each knuckle and nail, crease and fold, and his proud smile was blinding. “You are remarkable.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls who maim and then heal you.”
“I mean it, Grier.” This time when he flexed his fingers, his face didn’t pinch with hurt. “Do you think you could teach me the sigil you used?”
“Probably not.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “No offense.”
“I understand.” His fingertips rubbed together as though reacquainting themselves with one another. “We all have trade secrets.”
“It’s not that.” Good thing he was into self-experimentation. “I don’t know what I did. I wasn’t looking.”
A laugh shot out of him and ricocheted through the loft, startling a growl out of Meiko.
“Where’s your phone?” I searched the bed, unable to remember if I had returned it yet. “We can snap a few pictures of what hasn’t flaked off and recreate it when we get home.”
Home.
Savannah was home. For me. This—Atlanta—was his.
Yet another reason not to get attached to him.
“It’s in my back pocket.” Linus shifted his weight to one side. “Can you reach it? I don’t want to risk scraping off the ink.”
Careful not to cop a feel, I pinched his phone between my fingers and tugged it free. “Unlock it, please.” I rested it on his thigh then angled my head away to give him privacy, but he didn’t budge for concern over flaking. “Do you need help?”
Fingers outstretched, he glanced up at me. “Do you mind?”
“You’ll have to reset your password after this,” I teased. “Who knows what secrets I could unearth if I dug around on your phone long enough?”
“You can look if you want.” He held still while I took a series of shots, with and without the blinding flash. “I don’t mind.”
I got the sense he wanted to prove something to me, that by sharing the contents of his phone—which, for most people encapsulated their whole lives—he was entrusting part of himself to me. It was the kind of act that begged for reciprocation. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. But I wasn’t ready for that.
“I don’t want to invade your privacy.” That sounded polite and not panicky. “There are things on my phone I wouldn’t want anyone else to see. Selfies mostly.” I passed him back his device. “I’ve been trying to replicate this winged eyeliner thing Neely does, but it’s beyond me. Pretty sure he busts a gut laughing at my attempts when I text them to him.”
“Why the sudden interest in makeup?” Linus scratched his hands where the dried ink pulled his skin. “I don’t remember you wearing it except on special occasions.” He answered his own question. “Boaz.”
There was no point in lying. I had wanted to look nice for him once upon a time.
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I gave up on it, though. I would rather beg or bribe Neely into glamming me.” A pang rocked through me when I recalled how pale and broken he’d looked hanging there from his seat belt. “Cruz must have lost his mind when he got the call,” I said softly. “Neely is his whole world.”
“I’ll take you to see him tomorrow before we meet Reardon,” Linus promised.
“Thanks.” My jaw, which must have finished healing thanks to all the magic Linus pushed through me, didn’t twinge when I yawned. “I apologize in advance for my nightmare waking you. If it gets too bad, just toss a pillow up here at me or something. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your neighbors.”
“I etched soundproofing sigils into the floors. You won’t bother anyone.”
A shiver tickled over my skin, the idea of no one hearing me scream if Meiko tried to off me in my sleep as much of a relief as it was a worry. “Except you.”
“I’ll use earplugs if you don’t want to be disturbed.” A slight rise in his eyebrows left it to me to decide.
As if I would be the one bothered by hearing my screams or watching my thrashing.
“That would probably be for the best.” I rubbed my arms, sheepish. “If you wake me up, I’ll only go right back to where I left off in my dream. You can’t save me from it.”
His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but he wisely closed his mouth. I wasn’t interested in sigils or in sedatives. Enduring the dream sucked, I had to agree there, but it’s not like it stuck with me after I woke. All I had to do was survive the day. Easy-peasy. Sure it was.
“Sleep well, Grier.”
Not likely. “Good luck.”
Linus took the stairs down, and I got comfortable in his bed. Sleep forced me to chase it, but eventually, I caught it with both hands.
Twelve
He has a new girlfriend. His third one this week. Just as mundane as all the rest.
Why not me? Why won’t he ask me? I would say yes. He knows I would say yes. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I should play hard to get. Maybe then he would see we were meant to…
The carpet squishes under my feet, and cold slime seeps between my toes. I shiver, confused, my anger at Boaz forgotten. The smell hits me then, copper and rose water and thyme.
Maud.
I collapse to my knees beside her and scoop the icy blood back into the gaping hole in her chest.
“Maud?”
The sobs start, and I can’t stop them. I’m working as fast as I can, but her heart—her heart—it’s missing.
“Wake up. Please wake up. Please, Maud. Wake up. Please.”
Shivers dapple my arms, and my teeth chatter, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if she won’t open her eyes. I’ll be alone again. All alone. Maud is all I have, and she’s…
She’s gone.
She’s dead.
Dead.
Using her blood for my ink, I start drawing a sigil, one I’ve never seen in any textbooks.
“No, Grier,” a voice pleads behind me. “Stop before it’s too late.”
I woke screaming her name.
Maud. Maud. Maud.
Throat raw, lips chapped, I panted through a panic attack while I adjusted to my surroundings. I was tucked so deep in the crack of the wall, the sloped ceiling rested on top of my head.
Snatches of conversation, too faint for me to remember, too devastating for me to forget, echoed through my head, pinging off the walls of my skull then bouncing into oblivion as I woke fully.
What had I dreamed? What had I dreamed? What had I dreamed?
Already, the fine details eluded me, leaving behind vague dread and fresh grief.
“Are you finished?” a brassy voice snapped. “My ears are ringing.”
Climbing from my hidey-hole, I crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down at a flurry of activity.
Racks of clothes had been wheeled in and pushed against the walls. Boxes of shoes towered in one corner while purses and other accessories cluttered the couch. Wafer-thin women dressed to the nines fluttered between piles, cooing and flattering Meiko, who presided over the affair from the center of the room.
The scene wrecked me with its familiarity, and a sour taste flooded my mouth.
I’m safe, safe, safe.
The similarities proved too strong until all I could hear was that last conversation with Lena the night I executed my escape from Volkov, and the Master.
“Have you put any more thought into what I should wear tomorrow night?”
“I do have some ideas.” She hesitated, uncertain if I actually cared about her opinion. “Would you like me to show you?”
“I want to look my best.” I offered her my hand. “I might need help getting back in bed, though. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She carried me back to bed and propped me up with pillows. “Wait just a tick, and I’ll be right back with my top choices.” Her smile widened. “Then we can talk about accessories.”
The clothes. The bed. The flitting helpers. It was all too much. I hated all of it until my eyes crossed.
Linus. I needed Linus. Where was he?
“Cookie, Cookie.” Meiko sneered, her cherry lips curling. “Are there crumbs in his bed?”
“Why not ask him,” I said, aware I was being nasty but too stung to curb my tongue. “What is all this?”
“Your new wardrobe.” She cocked a silk-clad hip and planted a manicured hand below the chain mail belt cinching her emerald dress tight. Clothes. She was wearing clothes. And, of course, she looked as good in them as she did out of them. The fabric was the exact color of her eyes. “That was the purpose of last night’s debacle, was it not?”