“I expected you to kiss me awake. You’re such a fan of the classics, I figured you for a Prince Charming come to wake his Sleeping Beauty.”
“What’s romantic in theory can come off as lecherous in practice.” He traced my bottom lip with his pointer finger. “I don’t have much pride, but I can say I’ve never had nurses pry me bodily off an unconscious woman in her hospital bed.”
“Um, ice cubes?” I flicked water at him. “That’s classier to you?”
“You are High Society.” He sniffed. “I had to up my game.”
“Standards,” I teased. “It’s important to have them.”
“You’d think so.” He picked at the sheets. “Not all folks share that view.”
Finally the elephant in the room trumpeted, and both of us took notice.
“Talk to me.” I caught his hand and held it balled against my chest. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m numb.” He stroked his thumb over the wet spot on the front of my gown. “I can’t feel a thing. Maybe I was hoping playing with ice would burn enough to wake me.”
“I didn’t know.” I had to put it out there. “I keep thinking I should have known.”
“Me too, Squirt.” The bed creaked from taking on his weight when he sat near my feet. “I haven’t been home much in the last few years. That’s on me. I should have been there for her after she lost you, but things between me and my folks haven’t been great since I got old enough for them to list me on the meat market.” A sarcastic twist bent his lips into an unfamiliar shape. “I couldn’t stomach living in Savannah after the trial. You were a kid. An innocent child. And no one could be bothered to save you.”
“You tried.”
“Not hard enough.” He grunted. “Now Amelie’s head is on the chopping block, and it’s her own damn fault. I don’t know what to do with that. I want to protect her, but I can’t when she got caught in the act by the Grande Dame’s own son. His word is gold.”
My fingers uncurled from his. “Mine’s more nickel-plated, huh?”
He cursed under his breath. “That’s not what I meant.”
Except I kind of thought that’s exactly what he meant, though he would never have said so if he weren’t so stressed over Amelie. It wasn’t that he doubted me. Boaz’s faith in me was as solid as the chests stacked in the living room of the carriage house. But he was working among the Elite, with fellow necromancers, and they would be buzzing about my pardon and release. He was a far more trustworthy barometer for public opinion on me than any I had. Clearly the masses weren’t convinced my release was more than scraps my aunt tossed under the table to me.
At least no one suspected her true motives. Yet. But that day would dawn all too soon.
“When do I get to go home?” I touched the bandage covering my side and winced. “Woolly will be frantic if I don’t get back soon.”
“I stopped on my way here and explained things to her,” he assured me. “I worried she might hike up her foundation and waddle over here after me, but I think I talked her into staying put. You can rest easy.”
“Thanks for thinking of her.”
“She’s your family.” He peeled my hand off the healing wound. “Notifying them is SOP.”
“It’s not standard operating procedure for most people to soothe the fears of an old house.”
“Woolly’s my second-best girl.” He kept hold of my fingers, exploring their length, the way they flexed, like he’d never seen knuckles a day in his life. “I couldn’t leave her hanging.”
“I’m going to attend the trial.” The Pritchards might not want me there, but I was going all the same. “I hope that doesn’t cause friction between us.”
“But I’m a fan of friction.” He slid our palms together. “Especially between us.”
His gambit nearly worked. I almost smiled. “Be serious.”
“You’re going to be called as a witness. It’s unavoidable.” He arranged my hand on my lower stomach. “You were there, and they’ll want you to corroborate Linus’s story.”
“Oh, Goddess.” I slumped against my pillows. “How can they expect me to help condemn her?”
“She killed people, Grier.” Pain throbbed in his words. “She must be held accountable.”
Nodding, because he was right, because I couldn’t pardon her, because this was life, I closed my eyes. “I’m tired.” I used the same line on him since it had worked so well earlier. “I’m going to nap if you don’t mind.”
“Nah. You should rest.” He pressed a tender kiss to my cheek, right in the path of a tear I couldn’t manage to call back. “I’m leaving my number as your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay. I couldn’t remember Odette’s, and Linus went to get coffee, so I can’t ask for his.” And Amelie, my first choice, was a nonstarter. “I’ll be back after you’re released to give you a ride home.”
“Mmm-kay.”
The tears came after he left, each drop emptying the well of my soul, but it was for the best. I couldn’t face the Grande Dame with grief in my heart or desperation in my eyes. Better to purge now than risk breaking down in front of her.
Oscar popped into existence beside me after the hiccupping sobs ended and offered me his linen handkerchief. I took it and daubed my sore eyes with the chill impression of fabric then pressed the red button on the bedrail. “I’m ready to go home.”
“The paperwork has already been started, Ms. Woolworth,” the nurse informed me. “Your private physician is consulting with our attending. She’ll be in to collect you shortly.”
I clutched the sheets like their paper thinness might protect me. “I don’t have a private physician.”
“Mr. Lawson made the arrangements,” she said quickly. “I assumed…”
Well, that explained his coffee run. It’s not like he drank the stuff, or much of anything else.
“I’m still muddled. Ignore me.” I forced a laugh. “Of course Linus can handle my affairs.”
I had no idea who this mystery doctor of his was, but I wasn’t above taking any out I was given.
The third time I woke in the hospital, I was alone. It gave me time to think about how short my list of potential visitors was since I had few friends, and that number seemed to be dwindling. Woolly and Keet were family, but they weren’t people. It’s not like they could stroll in and ask to see me. Neely was a good friend, but he wouldn’t be admitted to this floor even if I called him. And if I did call, how would I explain getting stabbed by our mutual friend while she was under the influence of a shade?
This might be Savannah, one of the most haunted cities in the U.S., but even locals had their hard limits.
Miserable, I tugged the blue knit blanket higher on my shoulder. I hadn’t felt this alone since Maud died.
Depression was an old coat I sometimes wore. It fit too tight in the shoulders and pinched as I moved, but taking it off required herculean effort, and I wasn’t feeling even demigoddess-touched at the moment.
I was debating another light nap, too shallow for the dream to find me, when the door swung open.
“Ms. Woolworth.” A vaguely familiar nurse bustled into the room. “I have some papers for you to sign, and then you’re free to go.”
Gingerly, I turned onto my back and used the controls to raise the head of my bed. “Where’s Linus?” I took the clipboard, gave them my blessing to extort me, then passed it back before the nurse set about unhooking me from all the thingamabobs and doohickeys beeping and flashing behind me. “And my, um—” too late I realized I hadn’t asked for a name, “—private physician?”
“Dr. Lecomte will be along in a moment.” Linus strolled into the room with his hands in his pockets, head angled down like he was unsure of his welcome. “She stopped to visit another patient.”
“Dr. Lecomte.” I rolled in my lips to keep from laughing. Odette was many things, but a doctor she was not. “I hear you’re to thank for contacting her.”