The following night started in the usual fashion. Screams. Night sweats. Tears. But my recovery time was improving thanks to the mortification factor. Linus was staying in his old room, three doors down from mine, and I would have tossed and turned fretting over ruining his sleep if I used my bed for its intended purpose. Since I didn’t, I mostly wallowed in guilt after waking. Thankfully, he had learned his lesson about checking on me—or sending Cletus as his proxy—after I woke him with violent sobbing the first night he spent in the carriage house. Since then he let me suffer the daylight hours alone, just how I liked it.

I was off the hook for a shower since I’d had to wash off the grave dirt last night before climbing into my pajamas. All I had to do to be breakfast ready was dress in jeans and a tee and hit the stairs.

Linus had instituted an open-door policy at the carriage house, a welcome I hadn’t known I craved from another person, an invitation to share space and simply be. The rules had changed since he moved in, but the sensation remained when I spied him in the kitchen, and a tiny smile curled his lips.

“Your smoothie is on the counter.” He continued slicing up fruit. “Let me know what you think.”

Bracing myself for tweaks to yesterday’s successful formula, I palmed the frosty glass. A shiver I couldn’t blame on the smoothie coasted through my limbs as he watched me close my lips around the straw. I took a tiny sip, rolling the mixture around in my mouth, and tasted the difference. Tasted him.

The sensation of locking gazes with another person, of knowing how tart their blood stung on my tongue was...complicated. Anonymous donors had been gross but easier to palate since they weren’t staring at me while I savored them. But I couldn’t deny, even two days into his experiment, I noticed the gnawing in my gut that kept me shoveling in as much food as I could put my hands on was easing.

“You mixed an extra shot of Linus into my breakfast this morning.”

“We don’t know how much blood you require to function optimally.” He plated fruit salad and made a shooing gesture to get me to sit. “I’ll increase the dose until we see a visible positive or negative effect or until you determine a preference.”

“The clinical approach helps.” I settled in at my usual stool to polish off my first course. “It’s easier for me to wrap my head around this if I consider the need for blood as a nutritional deficiency.” I shot him an innocent look. “Maybe I’ll start calling it Vitamin L.”

Flames erupted in his cheeks, but he hid his pleasure even worse than his embarrassment. Thanks to my friendship with Boaz, I had plenty of occasion to study the smug male. Puffed chest. Toothy grin. Swagger for days. This specimen exhibited none of those tells.

Red cheeks. Downcast eyes. Hitched breath. Those were Linus’s symptoms. Yet I read the truth in them.

He enjoyed providing for me. He liked knowing his blood sustained me. He relished me savoring him.

And his simple pleasure in that shifted things in my chest into new configurations.

After clearing his throat, he asked, “Do you feel any different?”

“A little. Maybe? I think so.” I massaged my stomach with the heel of my palm. “I’m not as hungry as I have been. For a long time, I thought the problem was I couldn’t afford food that didn’t come in boxes. I wasn’t eating meat, and I was limited to fruits and veggies from the greenhouse. But I didn’t slow down once you started cooking for me. I’m eating more now than I have in my life, and I still get snackish.”

“Interesting.” He reached for a notebook and scribbled a few lines. “Do you mind?”

“Knock yourself out.” This way we both got something from the deal. I sated an intellectual hunger for him while he quenched a physical need for me. “Just do me a favor and refer to me as Patient G when you publish your research on goddess-touched necromancers. It gives me plausible deniability.”

“I don’t plan on publishing anything about your condition.” He slashed his pen across the paper.

“I thought that was the whole point.” I propped my chin on my palm. “Why do this otherwise?”

“Your condition fascinates me.” He glanced up then, expression earnest. “I want to understand its origin. I’m curious how and why goddess-touched necromancers exist. Their evolutionary roots would go a long way toward explaining your abilities.”

What he said made sense. His field of study was necromantic evolution. His passion was understanding the past to predict the future.

“After doing all this work, you’re going to keep it to yourself?” I drummed my fingers on my bottom lip. “What if there are others like me? Not everyone has access to my resources.”

Talk about your understatements. Pair my last name with the plethora of zeroes in my bank account, and there were few things I wanted that I couldn’t have with a snap of my fingers. That said, my greatest resource remained the man beside me, which no amount of money could buy.

His eyebrows climbed. “Are you saying you want me to share this information?”

“Strip my name and any identifying details, and I wouldn’t mind if you bound a copy and passed it on to the Elite to add to their collection.”

“Rumor might expose you,” he warned, smoothing a hand over his notes. “We might be providing interested parties with an instruction manual on how to reverse engineer someone like you.”

“The Marchands would not appreciate the competition. They seem to have cornered the market, albeit a black market, if Heloise was on the level.” I toyed with my straw. “I’m halfway tempted to put my acting chops to the test and fake a tearful reunion to gain access to their inner sanctum.”

At this ball, assuming the Marchands accepted the invitation, I would meet people who could share fresh stories about Mom. I would be introduced to the foremost experts on my condition. The past at my fingertips, answers within my grasp, but the cost…

“The Marchands had a stake in their possession capable of nullifying your magic. What other artifacts might they possess?” Black tendrils bled across his irises. “They’ll know how to subdue you. They’ll know how to hurt you. And they’ve proven they have no qualms about doing either.”

The artifact remained locked in my desk drawer, not the most secure location for an object of power. I really ought to be smarter about hiding it in case they got it in their heads to come looking for it. While I doubted they could breach Woolly’s new and improved wards, I didn’t want to be proven wrong or caught unprepared. As it was, I wasn’t keen on the ancient ash stake being in the house period. But any weaponized relic in my keeping was one less weaponized relic in theirs.

“Go on.” I rolled my hand. “Get it out of your system.”

Turning his back on me, he lifted the fruit salad off the cutting board then reached into the fridge. “Chocolate or cream cheese?”

What kind of question was that? “Both?”

“I thought you might say that.” He lifted out two small bowls and set them on the plate before walking it over to me. He returned moments later with lemonade made fancy by the paper-thin fruit slices floating in the mixture. “Bon appétit.”

Making grabby hands, I accepted my meal. “That’s really all you’ve got to say?”

“I offered my opinion.” He sat beside me and poured us each a drink, not that he would touch his. The gesture was habit for him, meant to help him blend in. “What else is there to say?”

“Boaz would tie me to a chair in the kitchen or lock me in a bathroom.” The first bite of apple soured on my tongue, poisoned by the use of his name. “Forget I said that.”

“I will never lay hands on you.” Linus drew lines in the condensation on his glass. “There are times I want to shut you away, where it’s safe. There are times I want to bundle you up, insulate you from all the ugliness in our world. But there will never be a time when I hurt you to accomplish those goals.”

Unshed tears glistened in my eyes, and I blinked to keep them from falling. “You’re a good man, Linus Lawson.”

“No, I’m not.” His eyes, more blue than black, flicked up to mine. “But for you, I try.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree,” I said and popped a cantaloupe wedge in my mouth.

Midas got me hot and sweaty for an hour after that. I could have gone longer, it’s not like I had anything better to do, but he claimed to have a surprise for me in the house. The crystalline laughter of the foyer chandelier as we passed under it hinted Woolly was in on the secret, and her happiness was infectious.

I trailed after Midas to one of the smaller bedrooms tucked at the very back of the house. The gym was two doors down, and I was about to break it to him that a treadmill didn’t count as a gift, when he shoved open a different door.

The queen bed and matching dresser that came standard in the unused guest rooms had been removed. I couldn’t recall which heirloom pieces fit this suite. Maud kept them off-limits when I was a kid, and I hadn’t seen any reason to air out spaces no one would be using anytime soon. But someone had been in here cleaning. And that same person had covered the honeyed oak floors with thick foam mats the color of Linus’s cheeks when he saw what I wasn’t wearing the night he fished me from the river.

“Woolly has generously donated this space as a sparring room for you,” Midas informed me. “We’re going to spend the rest of our session today installing the soft panels on the walls.”

“You sure you’re okay with this?” I curved my hand over the knob to establish a firmer link with Woolly. “The gym is more than enough.”

The bulbs warmed overhead as she gave us her blessing.

“You’re the best, girl.” I beamed at Midas. “This is overkill for someone at my skill level, but thank you.”

“You’re twenty-one,” he reminded me. “You have centuries to go. Keep training, and you’ll grow into the space.”

“I’m going to miss the grass under my bare feet.” I kicked off my shoes in the hall and padded in to try out the mats. “This is nice, though.”

“You’re safer in here than you are out there,” he said matter-of-factly.

A slow burn ignited in my gut. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble.”

“I would never ask that of you.” Crimson bled into his eyes. “Neither would Hood or Lethe.” He pushed out a slow breath, and his gaze lightened. He blinked clear of his anger and cast me a thoughtful glance. “You know Linus pretty well, right?”

“We grew up together.” I curled my toes on the foam. “We weren’t close, but we’re getting there now.”

“I’ve watched him for years. Linus is an iceberg.”

A hard thud rattled my ribs as it sank in how well the pack knew his vulnerabilities from observing him in his capacity as the Potentate of Atlanta. He blamed the temperature of his skin on bonding with his wraith, but I decided I didn’t like them knowing even that much about him. “What do you mean?”

“What you see on the surface is only a fraction of who he is, what he’s capable of.” Midas sliced his hand sideways through the air. “There’s more to him hidden under the water, and no one ever sees it coming until it’s too late.”

The angle wasn’t the one I expected, and that kept my heart thumping. “You’re saying I should hide what I can do.”

“We might keep people off the property, but anyone can watch. Telescoping lenses, drones, avian familiars. You’re putting on a show, and you can bet your enemies are tuning in to see what happens next.”

“Enemies.” Actual, bonified Grier-haters. “How did I get here?”

“You were always going to be a target. You’ve got wealth, power, and a family name that once made the Society tremble.” He tipped his head to one side. “Actually, it still does. The Grande Dame was born a Woolworth. You’re privileged. There’s a cost for that, and it doesn’t matter if you’re willing to pay it if someone else decides you owe them for what they don’t have but you do.”

Spoken like a man with firsthand experience as a have rather than a have-not. This insight into his history made me wonder at his roots, but he would confide in me or not given time.

“I might have been targeted,” I allowed, “but the bull’s-eye wouldn’t have been visible from space.”

Midas chuckled under his breath. “You’re more deserving than most in your situation. You’ll put your resources to good use, and you won’t abuse the system. You’ll leave the Society better than you found it.”

Uncertain why it mattered so much, I still found myself asking, “What about Linus?”

“Linus is a product of the system. The mold you’re going to break is the one that’s encased him since the day he was born.” He reached for a screwdriver and a clear bag of plastic wall mounts. “There are no rungs left for the Grande Dame to climb, and that means she’s going to turn her attention toward her only son, her heir. He’s the Lawson scion, the last Woolworth by blood, and she’s going to start shopping for brides to continue her bloodline soon.”

“I thought he was safe from that fate.” A lump formed in my throat. “He’s on the older side not to be engaged yet.” The Society didn’t force marriage before the age of fifty, but older families often arranged engagements while their children slept in their cradles. “You think she waited this long to maximize his value?”

“I do.”

“I hope you’re wrong, but I’m afraid you might be right. That’s how the Grande Dame thinks.” I selected a pencil and tape measure then joined him at the wall. “How do you know so much about the Society?”

“The Faraday is home to a large concentration of necromancers and vampires.” He set down his tools to help me mark the correct placement for each mount. “I wear a uniform to work, and that makes me invisible.”

As much as I hated to admit it, I could see his point. Most High Society types wouldn’t cast him a second glance except to appreciate his beauty. Heck, most High Society types still called their staff the help.

“Years ago, I functioned as the elevator operator.” He twirled the pencil through his fingers. “Let me tell you—people treat elevators like confessionals and their operators like priests.”

“Elevator operator? Your age is showing.” I locked my jaw to keep from asking for a specific number.

“Not as much as you might think.” Amusement curved his lips at having piqued my curiosity. “It was a trend there for a while among the affluent. Bored me to tears. I begged Hood to trade with me, but he wasn’t about to give up his post at the front door. All that fresh air and sunlight. Lucky bastard.”

“I imagine Clarice Lawson was a hot topic long before her promotion.”

“And Maud, and you.” He cut me a sympathetic glance. “What happened to her rocked the foundation of the Society. Your aunt used those cracks as handholds.” He got busy with the measurements. “You’re prime real estate too. She’s going to want to marry you off as soon as possible.”

“She’s welcome to try.” As Dame Woolworth, I was free to pursue a marriage based on love or to skip the vows all together like Maud. The Grande Dame would threaten and cajole, I was certain, but I got to choose this much for myself. “Maud didn’t sell me to the highest bidder when she had the chance.” Granted, she didn’t have much use for men aside from getting in her cardio, and that was long before my time. “I’m not stepping on the auction block, and the Grande Dame can’t make me.”

Midas huffed out a laugh when I stuck out my tongue. “There’s a simple solution, really.”

“Do tell.” He passed me a hammer, and I began sinking wall anchors into the plaster over his pencil marks. “I’m all ears.”

“Marry Linus.” He caught the handle when it slid from my slack fingers. “The union would cement ties between two of the most powerful High Society families and continue the Woolworth bloodline. You might have been raised as cousins, but you’re not related. It’s a perfect match.”

“A perfect coup,” I corrected on a whisper.

Fingers numb from the wake-up call, I threw myself into the work to kill any further conversation.

After we finished securing the padding and cleaned up our mess, Midas drifted off to start his shift, leaving me to wipe down the surfaces in preparation for our trial run.

Me and Linus.

Linus and me.

Now that Midas mentioned it, I was shocked our families hadn’t hinted at our compatibility before now. But then again, I had Boaz-shaped stars in my eyes for so many years, I had yet to blink clear of them. There was a lot I had overlooked, including a freckle-faced boy with starry eyes of his own.

One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was pick up the phone and dial Cricket. So difficult, in fact, I bought myself a minute by texting Marit first with a quick apology and a heads-up I wasn’t coming back. Yeah, I took the coward’s way out, but I liked her, and I didn’t want to lie to her face. With that done, and the hour getting later, I had to bite the bullet or risk missing Cricket. She didn’t always stick around for the late-late tour. One of the perks of being the boss.

“Haint Misbehavin’,” Cricket chirped like her namesake. “How may I haunt you?”

“It’s me.” Good start, Grier. Firm. Decisive. “I wanted to let you know I won’t be returning to work.”

“I don’t get you, hon.” A long sigh blasted the receiver. “You fight like the devil to get what you want, I give it to you, and then you throw it away. Every. Single. Time.”

“Sorry I’m letting you down.” I winced. “Again.”

“Are you okay?” A door shut in the background as she closed herself in the office. “Those bruises…”

The concern shouldn’t have stunned me when I already knew she was the one who set Russo on my case all those years ago. She was most likely to blame for my current issues with the good detective too. Still, she had hidden her worry behind snark, and hearing the bite stripped from her words unsettled me.

“I dated a man who decided I belonged to him.” I wandered over to Keet and stuck my fingers through the bars of his cage to scratch his earholes while he fluttered his wings in ecstasy. At least one of us was enjoying themselves. I hated lying, despised its necessity. “I broke things off, but he’s convinced we’re meant for one another. He won’t take no for an answer.”

“Fucking bastard,” she snarled with all the heat of a momma bear protecting her cub.

“Neely met him once.” As much as I wanted to keep my friend out of it, I needed an eyewitness account to sell the story. “Danill, my…boyfriend…posted guards at my house. I couldn’t leave without him knowing. He bought me clothes and sent a car around for me. He knew where I was at all times. I had no privacy.”

At the time, I saw those things as blessings. Only after he kidnapped me had I seen them as a curse.

“I have a friend who works for Savannah PD. Caitlin Russo. You two met a while back.” A brittle quality entered her voice. “I can put you in contact with her. She can help you, Grier. You can get a restraining order against him.”

“A restraining order won’t help.” Volkov might be locked in a cell, but the master was free to do as he pleased with me. “I need to cut ties with my old life.” It was the truest thing I had said to her, and it gutted me. “I want a fresh start.”

“The system isn’t perfect, but it can work.” Her tone roughened. “I had a big sister. Meredith. She ran away when she was sixteen with some meathead she was dating. Our parents were furious, told me she was throwing her life away. They never filed a missing person report. They knew who she had gone off with even if they didn’t know where, and they washed their hands of her.”

Dread tightened my skin at the pain unleashed in the retelling.

“The police came to our house three weeks later. A body had been found that matched my sister’s description. They wanted my dad to go down to the morgue and identify the body.” A ragged exhale ripped from her. “The cops told him her boyfriend was a drug dealer. He used her as a mule to smuggle product into the country. One of the baggies she swallowed ruptured, and she overdosed on her way to the hospital.”

Goddess. “I’m so sorry.”

“They told us she died within minutes, that we couldn’t have saved her, but they were wrong.” A moment passed while she pulled herself together. “Every day my parents did nothing was a step down a path my sister couldn’t follow home. If they had called the police the night she left, she might still be alive today.” Her voice grew stronger, more determined. Fierce. “I call Russo when I find girls who need help, who have no family looking out for them.”

Seeking comfort, I leaned against the nearest wall and let Woolly caress my senses. “Russo told me you reported me missing the first time I vanished on you.”

“I gave you a pass for being a no-show the first night, but Amelie was inconsolable. I heard about your mom passing, and I went to pay my respects. But your house was a crime scene, and no one would tell me what happened or where you had gone. That’s when I called in Russo.”

“Thanks.” I let my eyes close. “Knowing you cared enough to look means a lot to me.”

“Amelie told me you went to live with your aunt.” She hesitated before plowing ahead. “Living situations can be tough when you’re placed with extended family. I hope she was good to you.”

Once or twice I tried picturing how things might have gone if Maud had died of a heart attack. Clarice Lawson would have taken me in, and I would have been her responsibility for two more years. I would have been left alone in the drafty old manor Linus abandoned the instant he graduated, a ghost haunting the hallowed Lawson halls. Forget Amelie and Boaz. She would have nipped those friendships in the bud. She probably would have enrolled me in the same school she chose for Linus. I would have been too far behind to catch up, too different to fit in, and too heartbroken to try for either.

I put the acting skills I learned at her knee to good use. “I was given everything I needed there.”

Enough food and water to keep me alive. Enough exercise to keep my muscles from atrophying.

Atramentous had provided for me, in its own miserly way.

“I’m glad.” True relief swept through her. “Will your aunt help you now?”

The Grande Dame was already helping me. She had given me Linus, after all. “Yes, she will.”

“Don’t vanish this time, hon,” she all but pleaded. “Go away if space is what you need, but don’t go away for good.” Her watery laugh made my throat tighten. “I’ll save you a spot on the Halloween roster. I won’t even make you scrub toilets for it this time. Deal?”

“Deal,” I promised, hoping against hope I could take her up on the offer. “I’ll send you a check for the dress.”

“It was never about the damn money,” she groused, sounding more like herself. “I wanted to teach you there are consequences for your actions.”

“You did that and then some.” Each time I fell from grace, she made me work to earn my wings back.

A prickle at my nape drew my attention to where Linus hovered on the threshold with a sketch pad in his hand. He must have come downstairs and been passing through the living room on his way to the kitchen. Aside from the Vitamin L smoothies, I had noticed enough containers marked with ambiguous labels to curb my daylight fridge-raiding tendencies.

“I have to go.” I pushed off the wall and started in his direction. “See you at Halloween?”

“I better not have to come looking for you. You know how much I hate cancelling tours when guides flake.”

Nostalgia warmed me, a bittersweet longing for such simple problems. “I’ll be there.”

With a huff of sound close to her usual bluster, she disconnected, killing the conversation and the illusion I could be the girl she had tried so hard to save ever again.