“No?” I backed toward the door, unnerved when the wraith followed like a lost puppy. “I expected Elite sentinels dressed in catsuits prowling through the bushes, tracking my every move. Not this.”
The mental picture of Boaz crammed into a spandex jumpsuit made me snort, until I was tugging at my collar when my imagination supplied an image of all that muscle wrapped in one stretchy package. Oh, geez. I was not going to think about packages. Nope. Nah-uh. No way. My brain was a delivery-free zone.
“You already felt caged by the agreement you made with Mother,” he murmured. “I didn’t feel inclined to point out the bars.”
Learning he could monitor me so easily didn’t come as a shock, exactly. Wraiths made perfect spies and assassins. Stealthy and silent, they blended with the night. But he should have warned me that the bodyguard he had selected for me lacked, well, a body.
“I prefer to know where the bars are.” I miscalculated my retreat and bumped into the display window. “Comes in handy for figuring out how to squeeze through them.”
“You need protection. You’re not safe on the streets alone.”
As much as I wanted to fling it in his face that Amelie was with me, that I wasn’t alone, we both knew she and I had failed to save my skin the last time. Necromancers weren’t built to combat vampires. Magic was our only hope, and that defense required tools, preparation, and time assailants didn’t allow before attacking.
“I understand you have to take precautions.” I was proud of how even I kept my tone when what I really wanted to do was track him down and thump him soundly on the head. “But next time you take preventative measures, give me a heads-up, okay?”
“Do you object to the wraith?” he asked without answering me.
“No.” Better the shadow than the man himself. “I’m getting used to it hanging around.” The creature inclined its head as though appraising me. “How sentient is it?”
“When fully bonded, they possess limited faculties. They follow orders. That’s all. They remain in a type of stasis when they’re not deployed.”
“Is it male or female?” I studied the billowing hood, the gnarled fingers, and had no clue.
“They’re spirit and bone. That’s it. That’s all.”
How sad to be reduced to an it when you once were a person. “I’m going to call him Cletus. He looks like a Cletus.”
A choking noise filled my ear. “You’re going to what?”
“Cletus,” I enunciated clearly. “You can thank me for naming him later.”
“If it makes you more comfortable to humanize it, fine.” He sighed. “You can call it Cletus.”
“I’m going to give Amelie a ride back to her car, then I’ll head home.” Realizing he would be there, even if it was across the way, struck me as oddly comforting. “See you at dusk for our first lesson.”
“Sleep well.” He hesitated. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thanks.” Nothing short of magical or pharmaceutical intervention would suppress the dream, and I’d had enough of being suppressed to last a lifetime. “I can manage.”
After warning me he couldn’t promise to always be at the carriage house when I needed him, we exchanged cell numbers and ended the call. I paused a moment to wonder where he might be going at night but reminded myself it was none of my business. He was born in Savannah and raised here too. He had family in town, and friends. He probably had work too. His mother wasn’t the type to let a valuable resource go to waste, and I would only take up a few hours of his nights.
I strolled back into Mallow to find Amelie ordering us to-go chocolates, proving why she was the best friend a girl could have, and I sidled up to her. “We’re good to go.”
“Is Linus coming?” She kicked up an eyebrow. “Or dispatching someone?”
“He already has.” I picked up the tab before she could dip into her wallet. “We’re safe to go as soon as our order is filled.”
“He’s having you followed,” she said, thinking it over. “Good idea.”
“I wish he would have told me,” I grumbled.
“Would you have thanked him or fought him?”
I cut her a smile. “What do you think?”
“I get the feeling Linus is going to have his hands full with you.”
Poor guy. I got the feeling she was right.
Four
After spending a week cooped up at home, my night out drained me. I parked Jolene and started toward the front porch, ready to grab a shower and update Woolly on all the gossip we’d missed over the past few weeks. Rustling in the bushes pulled me up short, and I sent up a prayer to Hecate that Taz hadn’t come back for seconds. Creeping around the side of the house, I went to investigate and spotted a flash of red hair. “Linus?”
Dressed in a crisp navy button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms dusted with freckles, Linus made for an elegant gardener. Dark-wash jeans hung low on his hips, the knees damp, and he wore a pair of scuffed, black boots coated in mud. He’d pulled his long hair into a neat topknot, and the same pair of black-framed glasses he’d worn at breakfast perched on the end of his nose. His elegant hands were covered in a mixture of crimson ink and clumps of… Was that concrete?
Skipping my gaze from him to Woolly, I sucked in a sharp breath at the smooth expanse of foundation running along this side of the house.
“I got to thinking about the wards.” He dropped into a crouch in front of a small trough filled with a wet mixture. A trowel handle stuck out of the center like a bulbous candle on a birthday cake. “The only way to repair the damage to the foundation is to first repair the foundation.”
Hardly breaking news, but the blank canvas he’d created made her look so naked, so vulnerable.
“Woolly can’t function with a quarter of her wards down.” I rested my hand against the siding like that might help me feel her heartbeat. “I promised her you wouldn’t do this again. I gave her my word I would protect her. You should have asked me before you started. I could have talked to her, warned her what was happening so she wouldn’t be afraid.”
Linus let me rant at him until I ran out of steam then cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are you finished?”
“No.” I sucked in air for part two then promptly deflated. “Wait. Are you laughing at me?”
He plucked a blade of grass and let it drop. “You don’t trust me much, do you?”
“You broke into my house and kidnapped my bird.”
A grimace twisted up his face. “There is that.”
Whatever excuse I expected him to recite never made it past his lips. He owned the blame for his actions, though he must have known I suspected his mother of issuing the orders. Had he thrown her under the bus, I would have gladly switched it into reverse then taken my own turn behind the wheel.
“I transcribed the existing wards before I mixed the concrete.” He indicated the lowest board on Woolly’s siding. What I had assumed was dirt was actually tiny rows of interlaced sigils. They had been drawn on with a permanent marker with a crimson undertone. Another of his inventions? “Woolly is fine. I talked to her myself, and I asked her permission before I put a hand on her.”
The window above our heads swung open then clicked shut in agreement.
“Oh.” I knelt beside him, thankful I had done all the prep work of scrubbing the foundation clean weeks ago. “Are you sure it will hold?” I tipped back my head and examined the sky. “Neely said it’s going to rain.”
Linus got busy stirring his mixture. “Who’s Neely?”
“Neely Torres. He’s a friend from work.” I patted my hair, not remembering until I touched frizz that he hadn’t painted me into my character tonight. “He does hair and makeup for all the Haints. He’s also a kickass accountant.”
“Oh.” Comprehension dawned across his face. “He’s married to Cruz Torres.”
I blinked at him. “You know Cruz?”
“We do some business with his firm. He manages the Society’s human interests.”
I wet my lips. “How long has he worked for the Society?”