“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.”
The rag in his hand stilled. “You shouldn’t thank me for doing what any decent person would do.”
It took a beat for me to realize he must think I was still hung up on using Maud’s blood. “No, I mean dropping your life to race down here and play tutor for me. I appreciate it. There’s so much I don’t know, and it’s nice having someone around I can ask.”
His hand resumed its scrubbing circles. “I’m happy to help, but you understand this isn’t an act of altruism on my part?”
Yes, I had known that. Too bad he brought it up right when I was feeling charitable toward him. “Your mother—”
“No.” He leaned his hip against the counter, angling his body toward me. “My field of study is necromantic evolution. I catalog the growth and change of our powers over time in an effort to predict what they might become during the next generations as well as how to maximize the current magics we possess.”
“I’m a research project for you.”
“Yes.” He examined my face. “The promise of working with you is how Mother lured me down here.”
“Okay.” I gusted out an exhale and felt ten pounds lighter. “I can deal with that.”
More than dealing with his admission, I embraced it with both hands. It was oddly reassuring to know he was here, at least in part, to sate his own curiosity. While I didn’t love the idea of being the topic of future research papers, I did need his help figuring out how my magic worked, and he would be more driven if he was quenching his own thirst for knowledge at the same time. And, to be honest, it was easier trusting a man who experimented on himself too. It made the whole thing feel less…clinical.
“You’re not upset?” The plate he had almost scrubbed a hole in slipped from his hand into the dingy water. “You don’t mind me chronicling your journey?”
“No.” I rescued the dish and rinsed it clean. “This is more honest than any reason I had assigned you.”
“Ah.” His laughter was brittle. “I see.”
The sound made me flinch. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone these days.”
“I understand.” His sudsy hand covered mine, chilly despite the warm water. “Come on. We don’t have long before Taz arrives.” He retrieved a fresh dish towel for me while he dried off. “Are you working tonight?”
“I’m not sure. I lost my job at Haint Misbehavin’. Cricket, the owner, has agreed to let me fill in as needed.” Sort of. “She bought a haunted riverboat that’s apparently been in the news recently. There’s a chance I’ll get picked as a hostess after the launch, but until then I’m in limbo, really.”
“You’ll have to drop down to part-time hours once our studies become more intensive,” he warned. “We’ll be taking field trips in the weeks to come, some of them overnight, and there will be assignments you can’t perform indoors without access to a basement. Meaning we may have to rent an underground space.”
“That sounds fair.” It’s not like I planned on being a Haint forever. I only wanted that tiny dose of normal each night for as long as it lasted. “Just give me a heads-up so I can let Cricket know in advance.”
Maybe the third time would be the charm and I could manage a two-week notice.
Together we finished cleaning up our mess and gathered our supplies. I left Eileen on the table, uncovered, so she could entertain herself while we were outside. I figured the worst thing to do to a multi-eyed book was blind it with darkness. Actually, that was the worst thing you could do to anyone.
Mixing the concrete was easy-peasy thanks to the machine Linus had the foresight to rent for the job. The resulting goop held a faint pink tint, courtesy of Maud’s blood, but it cleared up after we blended in some powdered hawthorn berries and calendula.
The process of slathering it on the foundation like icing on a cake required a technique Linus had, of course, mastered. Me? Not so much. Mostly I slopped trowels full of the stuff over his tidy work from the previous night while he followed behind me scraping off the excess and finessing the remainder to a smooth finish.
We completed two sides before Taz announced herself with a playful yank on my ponytail that made my eyes water and might have dislocated a few vertebrae.
“What are you two doing?” She peered over our shoulders. “Why does it smell like that? Coppery?”
I wasn’t sure what worried me more—that she had been playing with me and almost broken my neck in the process, or that she could smell blood through the herbs and wet concrete scents.
“Just some home improvements.” I skirted the truth. “Linus was kind enough to lend me a hand.”
“This couldn’t keep until tomorrow?” Her thin eyebrows winged higher. “Boaz will be here by then.”
Beside me, Linus curled his fingers around the handle of his trowel until his knuckles pushed against his skin.
“Boaz is coming home?” A glob of concrete plopped onto my knee. I couldn’t stop the smile stretching my cheeks. “That dirty sneak. He didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t know?” Her face screwed up into a scowl. “He should have told me it was a surprise.”
“It’s fine.” I scraped my tools clean. “Linus, do you need help tidying before Taz and I get started?”
“I’ll keep going if you don’t mind.” He wasn’t looking at me now. “I want to smooth these edges before they set.”
I leaned into his field of vision. “I can stay and help if—”