Ice spread through my chest, cutting a path between my breasts, and I gasped fully awake. “Cletus?”

“I’m insulted you called out another man’s name during foreplay,” Boaz drawled, leaning over me as he braced his elbows on the bedrail. “The ice cube move is a classic.”

I shoved upright, my heart attempting to catapult from my throat, but the brass button was cold in my palm, and Oscar was wherever Oscar went when he wasn’t here. Odds were good Boaz couldn’t see him without help since I struggled with his perception too, but I didn’t want to find out like this. Or at all. Not yet.

The Elite had been ready to sacrifice the kid to get what they wanted, and I was happy having him off their radar.

“That was foreplay?” The front of my gown was soggy and cold from the ice cube he’d stuck down my neckline. “Huh. All this time, I thought I was missing out on the whole sex thing, when foreplay with you is the equivalent of dumping a cold drink down the front of my shirt. I’ve done that plenty. Guess I’m less virginal than I originally suspected.”

“It doesn’t count when you do it,” he teased. “Dumping ice down your shirt is fun, sure, but having someone else do it is life changing.”

“Hmm.” I blotted my chest dry. “Are we talking about masturbation or sex?”

“I have a one-track mind, but self-pleasure is an activity I’m willing to explore with you.” His smile made my heart twist. “All couples need their hobbies.”

“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.”

His shrug reduced him to the shy boy who used to fumble the butter when I asked him to pass it to me.

“Ma coccinelle.” Odette swept into the room with her arms wide open, dressed in baggy jeans and a white tank top. Sandals peeked from under the hem she’d had to roll up a few times, and a scarf in seafoam blues fluttered behind her. “Must you insist on fraying these old nerves?” She pulled up short when she noticed the nurse’s incredulous expression. “Why are you looking at me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe? Are private physicians not allowed their private time?” Her haughty glare made me chuckle. “Perhaps I should have worn a white coat for the occasion?”

“Apologies, ma’am.” The nurse paled. “Ms. Woolworth is cleared to leave as soon as she’s ready.”

“I’m ready.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed then slid until my toes brushed the floor. A cool draft across my backside had me bunching the fabric closed in my hands. “Okay, so pants first. Then we hit the bricks.”

“Your clothes were ruined,” Linus informed me. “I asked the staff to dispose of them.”

The whole outfit might have been worth ten dollars, but dang it, those clothes were comfy.

“I didn’t want to leave you here alone.” He lifted a bag with the hospital’s logo emblazoned on the front. I hadn’t noticed it in his hand. “I bought these to get you home.”

My mouth seesawed until deciding on a smile. Comparing Linus to Boaz was the same as comparing apples to oranges. The apple might have stood watch over me and bought me new clothes to wear home, but the orange had made certain Woolly knew not to fret, and he had taken time away from his family tragedy to ensure I was okay. So, yeah. There was really no comparison. No matter how my brain scrabbled to tally each of their deeds like friendship was a contest to win or lose, it was a tie.

“Do you need help?” Odette shooed the nurse from the room, and Linus left with her. “Sit, sit. Let me do this.” I dutifully turned around and let her work the ties free on my gown. “You’re so thin. Bony. Do you eat air?”

“Not you too,” I groaned. “Last I checked, my name was Grier, not Gretel. Stop trying to fatten me up.”

“Save your cheek for one of your boys.” She popped my bare bottom, and I yelped.

“Yes, ma’am.” I accepted the sweatpants she passed me and pulled them on under my gown before letting it slide down my arms. An oversized T-shirt came next. Its front was emblazoned with a drawing of the hospital, but that was it for clothes. “Panties I don’t mind going without, but I have no bra.”

“You’re like me.” She smoothed her hands over her small breasts. “We have knots on a wooden plank.”

“Hey,” I protested. “I have boobs.” I glanced down at jutting ribs and protruding hipbones. “Okay, so I used to have boobs.”

Damn it. I missed having curves. Skeletal was not a great look for me. In my line of work, the last thing I wanted was to be mistaken for a corpse.

After tugging the shirt over my head, I finger-combed my hair. The final item in the bag was a pair of mesh shoes, almost like slippers with a flexible sole. I tugged them on, grateful for the barrier between my feet and the chill linoleum.

A knock sounded at the door followed by Linus’s muffled, “Are you decent?”

“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my braless chest. “You can come in.”

He entered, pushing a contraption unlike any wheelchair I had ever seen. Flowering vines crawled down the sides, engraved into the silvery metal I suspected might be sterling. Each lush petal was accented in gold so rich I suspected they were twenty-four-karat inlays. Those touches I could stomach slightly better than the honest-to-Goddess red velvet cushion for my sitting pleasure, complete with gilded tassels. This chair screamed High Society, and I wondered how my transportation would have looked had I not been Maud Woolworth’s daughter.

“It’s not that bad.” Linus crossed to me, cupped my elbow, and helped me get into position. He also palmed the brass button so I could grip the armrests and lower myself. “You only have to survive the ride down two floors.”

“This chair is ridiculous,” I grumbled. “Riding in this is embarrassing.”

“Then you’ll love this.” He leaned over me and spread the matching red velvet lap blanket across my knees. His icy fingers skated over my nape, and I started at the unexpected contact. “I also bought you this from the gift shop. It cost me ninety-nine cents. I’ll add it to your tab if I must.”

The necklace was a length of black rubber cord with a brassy clasp that almost matched the antique button dangling between my nonexistent boobs. I closed my hand over the talisman, and suddenly the throne on wheels wasn’t so bad. Still, I couldn’t resist adding, “You couldn’t have splurged on a hoodie?”

“Hoodies were thirty-six dollars. The T-shirt was only fifteen.” He took position behind me while Odette held the door open for us. “I decided it was safer to buy a lot of cheap items than invest in one expensive one.”

Thirty-six dollars was pocket change to him, to me too, really. But I appreciated that he honored my budgetary restraint. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” I reached up to brush his fingertips with mine where they gripped the handle. “Thanks for being here.”

Odette looked on with a twinkle in her eyes I chose to ignore. Whatever she was seeing, or had seen, ignorance was bliss as far as I was concerned. And with Odette, there was always more to the picture than the rest of us saw.

Once we hit the hallway, I propped my elbow on the armrest and braced my forehead against my open palm. I hoped people would assume I was shielding myself from the harsh overhead lights and not trying to hide my mortification over riding in a gilded throne pushed by the equivalent of a High Society prince.

“The night birds are calling, calling, calling,” Odette sang softly. “The princess she’s falling, falling, falling.”

I twisted to better see her from the corner of my eye, but wherever her vision had taken her, she was no longer with us for all that her body kept pace with the wheelchair. She snapped out of her fugue as we exited the sliding glass doors and placed a hand over her heart. Though I had been taught it was rude to ask, I couldn’t help wondering. “What did you see?”

“A hard road and worn shoes at the end of it,” she murmured. “Poor little feet.”

As usual, I was sorry I’d asked.

Until we hit the circular drive out in front of the hospital, it hadn’t occurred to me to ask how we were all getting home. My tender gut roiled as I waited for the familiar Lincoln Continental Linus favored to pull around, but it was a white van that stopped in front of us. The driver was a grungy young man dressed in pajama bottoms and a dirty tee. He leaned across the passenger seat and flashed us his phone. “You guys call for a lift?”

“We did.” Linus worked to suppress the curl of his lip and mostly succeeded as he wheeled me closer. “Let’s get you settled in the back.” He pulled open the sliding rear door, and a sigh moved through his shoulders. Pizza boxes and empty soda bottles littered the floor, but he swept them aside then helped me climb onto the bench seat where he fastened me in as snug as a bug. “Where do you want me?”

The rear seats had been removed to make room for stereo equipment, so that was out. There was room on the bench seat beside me, or the front passenger seat was empty. “I hate to do this to you, but can Odette sit with me?”

“Of course.” He eased out of the van and took her hand, helping her settle in beside me. “This was the right thing to do?”

Unsure which of us he was asking—himself or me or even Odette—I answered, “Yes.”

I couldn’t believe it. Linus Andreas Lawson III had downloaded a ridesharing app and used it to get me home.

This latest thoughtfulness had spared me from stepping into his hired car. I would take pizza stains on the seat of my gift-shop pants and gunk on the bottom of my water shoes over that misery any day.