The population of gwyllgi on my lawn had exploded since we left. There was nothing for it but to shove through them until the wards sealed behind us. Hood had to park the van, and I hated leaving him to find his own way, but Amelie might not survive us waiting to escort him. He had made it out, and I had to hope he could make it back in.

Linus and I sprinted for the carriage house, not bothering to knock on the door. We found Amelie in a limp sprawl on the rug in the living room. Popcorn littered the floor, a bowl overturned at her feet.

“Amelie.” I hit my knees beside her and checked her pulse. “She’s alive.”

Linus joined me, his expression grim. “We have to return Ambrose to her.”

“I don’t understand.” I brushed blonde waves away from her face, and my heart clenched. “It’s been months. I thought he would weaken, that we could exorcise him. Instead it looks like he’s learned a new trick, that he’s just as powerful as ever.”

“The tattoo might have complicated things.” He lifted the edge of her shirt and started drawing a series of sigils across her abdomen. “There was no other way to save her. She’s alive because of you.”

“Will she be…?” I hated the dots for connecting in my head. “Have I created another Eidolon?”

“You didn’t create me.” He glanced at me. “I am what I am by my own choice.”

“No, you’re not.” I trailed the back of my hand against his cheek. “You did this to yourself for me.”

Linus closed his eyes, savoring the contact, then resumed his work. He didn’t contradict me again. We tried hard not to lie to each other.

“And to answer your question, I’m not sure.” Linus pressed his palm against Amelie’s abdomen, and magic punched through the contact as he pushed the dybbuk back into his cage. “Ambrose is powerful, but he can’t manifest as more than shadow. We need to make sure that’s the extent of his capabilities.” He watched Amelie a moment then sent another wave of energy through her limbs. “We may have to bind them tighter, shorten his tether, for her to survive him. Otherwise, he might wait her out. The death of her body would sever their connection. He would be free to find another host.”

A wraith might wait to be courted, but a dybbuk hunted for its next mark until he secured a willing host.

“You’re saying we have to make him a permanent fixture, or he might kill her.”

“Yes.”

A sharp gasp filled the room as Amelie gulped oxygen. Her hazy eyes focused on me, and she reached out with trembling fingers. “Grier?”

“Hey.” I clasped hands with her. “How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts. I must have hit it on the coffee table.” She grimaced. “Did I pass out again?”

Linus examined the back of her skull, and he pulled back bloody fingers. “I can heal that if you like.”

“I like,” she mumbled. “Please.”

While he drew a healing sigil on her arm, I watched the cloudy quality leave her gaze. “What do you remember?”

“I was watching Attack of the Killer Moth from Space and His Five Caterpillar Wives.” She kept a straight face, like that was a totally normal title for a film. “The last thing I remember is making popcorn during the intermission.”

The occasional classic kept a momentary pause in the middle where the theater would have stopped the film while they changed reels or, later, while moviegoers refilled their drinks and purchased fresh popcorn and candy.

“Ambrose paid us a visit.” I gave her room to sit upright. “There wasn’t much to him, but he manifested in downtown. He was following us.” Thinking back to my scare on Abercorn, and the creeping sensation in the woods at Woolworth House, I admitted, “I think he’s been following me for a while now. Several days at least.”

“But I haven’t lost any time until now,” she protested. “None of the signs Ambrose was surfacing were there. I would have told you.” What little color she had leached from her cheeks. “You don’t think I had anything to do with this?”

“You have a stellar alibi,” Linus said. “You were unconscious when we arrived, and you would have died within the hour if we hadn’t returned him to you. I think it’s safe to assume you didn’t agree to this power exchange.”

“D-d-died?” Her fingers brushed the tattoo on her ankle. “I thought this contained him.”

“That was the idea.” I touched the design, hissing when it scalded me. “Linus, the sigil is hot again.”

Curiosity bright in his eyes, he probed her skin with his fingers. “Interesting.”

When he got lost in his thoughts, I poked him in the chest. “Interesting how?”

“I set the wards on the carriage house. They’re my design, drawn in Maud’s blood. There is no link to you or your magic whatsoever.” He pressed his fingers to the ink until the tips sprouted blisters he examined with utmost care. “This might be our breakthrough.”

Meaning he might have figured out how to dissolve the connection between Amelie and me.

The hope was too big. I couldn’t swallow past where it lodged in my throat.

“I fainted when the wards at Woolworth House were attacked.” Amelie mulled it over with a frown. “What does it mean that this is happening again?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, and it was the truth. “Do you want to call Boaz to come sit with you?”

“No.” She climbed onto the couch and stretched across the cushions. “I’ll be fine.”

“Amelie,” Linus began. “I regret to inform you there is a hard decision ahead of you.”

Bless him for attempting to once again shield me from pain, but I wanted to tell her myself.

“Ambrose may be attempting to kill you.” I leaned against Linus, borrowing his strength. “You may have to choose bonding to him—permanently—or taking your chances.”

Amelie closed her eyes. “I deserve this.”

As much as I wanted to absolve her, I couldn’t. She had committed crimes as Ambrose. Horrific ones.

“I ought to be noble and say I’ll let him end this, but I don’t want to die.” She stared at the ceiling. “I can’t atone if I choose the coward’s way out, and I don’t want this stain on my soul when I meet the goddess.”

“Amelie…” I started but then stopped, unsure what comfort I could offer her that wouldn’t be a lie.

Sensing my dilemma, she put on a brave face. “Will dusk work?”

“Yeah.” I smiled, the edges brittle. “That’s fine.”

“I think I’ll call Boaz after all. Just in case.” She palmed her phone. “I wish I could see both my brothers again, but my ex-parents would never let Macon visit.”

Ex-parents. The reminder of how alone she was made my chest tight. I would have pleaded her case to see her little brother, but the Pritchards hated me too. They would never let him go anywhere with me.

“We’ll be in the rest of the evening.” Linus took my hand. “Call if you start feeling peculiar.”

“I’ll do that.” She resumed her fascination with the ceiling. “Thanks. For saving me. Again.”

“You made bad decisions.” I curbed the urge to go to her, hug her, tell her everything would be okay. “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said softly. “I always wanted what I couldn’t have. Power. Magic. Reputation. I should have let it go like everyone else does. Instead I paid for it in blood, and blood will always stain my hands.” Her lips curved. “I wanted a reputation, and boy did I ever earn one.”

Linus curled his fingers around my elbow. “We’ll return at dusk if you haven’t contacted us by then.”

Until he pulled me back, I hadn’t realized I had taken a step toward her.

Amelie had been my best friend since I came to Savannah. We might not be friendly anymore, but I still loved the girl I remembered, the friend who never let me down, and it cut deep not to offer her comfort in her time of need. But Linus was saving me from myself, from an addiction I couldn’t quite kick, and I was glad he was there to stop me from indulging an old habit.

Woolly opened the door for us on a faintly glowing surprise that rocketed into my gut.

“Oomph.” I staggered back with an armful of ghost boy. “Oscar, hey kiddo.”

“I took a long nap.” He yawned against my neck as I carried him in. “I’m still sleepy.”

“You can rest as long as you want.” I fretted over his paleness. He wasn’t back to full strength. “Woolly and I will be here when you wake up.”

“I know.” He pressed icy lips to my cheek with a smack. “I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Thanks for checking in.” I kissed him on the forehead. “Now go back to bed. Don’t worry about us.”

Fading as he drifted higher, he vanished through the ceiling, and Woolly followed to tuck him in.

“I’m going to check on Lethe.” I started for the stairs. “Did you want me to let you in the basement?”

“I might as well be productive,” he said, all but rubbing his hands together.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” I teased, opening the door for him. “I’ll be down soon.”

After he stepped into the gloom, I headed up the stairs to Lethe’s room.

A teenage boy with blue-black hair that fell past his hips was backing into the hall when I arrived. When he turned to go, he spotted me, and the wire-rimmed glasses he wore slipped down his nose.

“You must be Grier.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Shane Doherty.”

“Nice to meet you, Shane.” We shook, and his elegant fingers reminded me of a surgeon. “How is she?”

“Right as rain, thanks to you, but out cold.” His smile crinkled his eyes until they almost vanished in the folds. “I’ve never seen the like. Your gift is truly amazing. You’re a great healer, Grier.” He motioned me across the hall. “I thought we might speak easier in here.” He led me into the bedroom Woolly had assigned him. “I appreciate your hospitality, by the way. It’s a lovely home you’ve got. This room is nicer than my own.” His nostrils flared as he scented the air. “Would it be rude to inquire if you’ve had a female guest stay in here recently?”

“A family friend spent the weekend here not too long ago. She burns incense. It helps with clarity in her visions.”

Shane canted his head to one side. “She’s a seer then?”

“Yes.”

“Might she be the famed one from Tybee Island? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Odette Lecomte.” The rolling cadence of his accent made me smile. “You’re not from the Atlanta pack, are you?”

“No.” He leaned against the dresser. “I made Savannah my home some years back. Eighty or ninety it’s been, I suspect.”

“You look sixteen,” I protested. “How have you been alive that long?”

“I’m a fair sight older than sixteen, lass.” He adjusted his glasses. “Lethe told you about her pack’s origins?”

“A gwyllgi mated a warg, and they claimed the offspring belonged here instead of in Faerie.”

“Aye, that’s about the gist of it.” He winked. “Let’s just say I’m a distant relative.”

A distant relative…? But that meant Shane was a full-blooded gwyllgi. From Faerie. He was fae.

A thrill shot through me. “I never thought I would meet someone like you.”

“Nor I,” he confessed. “Our kind don’t much traffic with outsiders, and yet you’re pack. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I couldn’t risk the exposure.”

Not only a fae, but an illegal one. I seemed to be harboring more fugitives by the day.

“All of this—” I gestured around the room and to myself “—is a long story.”

“All the best ones are,” he said, easing into my personal space. “I would very much like to know more about you. Any necromancer who befriends an alpha’s daughter and calls a renowned seer a houseguest must be someone worth knowing better. Are you amenable to that?”

“Friendship works.” I took a step back that bumped my hip against the doorknob. “I’m in a relationship.”

“More’s the pity.”

There was something about Shane that made me smile at his flirtatiousness. Probably the accent.

“Maybe one day,” I said, aware it was a dangerous offer, “I could pick your brain about being fae, and you could pick mine about—”

“Your long story?”

“Yeah.” I laughed under my breath. “That.”

“Have Lethe call me when maybe one day comes.” His eyes twinkled merrily. “But for now, if you don’t mind me saying so, keeping your schedule is draining.” He covered a yawn with his hand. “I’m going to turn in early.”

“Oh. No. Not at all.” Grateful for the excuse, I backed out of the room. “It really was nice meeting you.”

“Grier…” He pocketed his glasses and stared at me with eyes so ancient their weight glued my feet to the floorboards and made me wonder if his lenses weren’t meant to offset the eerie sensation. “I am an old thing, and a patient one. A woman such as yourself comes along only once or twice in forever. Lethe knows how to get in touch with me should you maybe one day change your mind about other things.”

“Ah, thanks.”

I shut the door then sagged on my tired bones in the hall.

“Fae must obey the laws of hospitality.”

“Fiddlesticks.” Clutching my chest, I whirled on Linus. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“He can’t harm you or beguile you while he’s your guest without greatly impinging on his honor.”

I anchored my hands on my hips. “You were eavesdropping?”

“Yes.” He didn’t sound embarrassed at getting caught, either.

“Care to tell me why?” I glanced back at the door, remembering those ancient eyes set in a youthful face, and shuddered. “You can’t have been worried I would cozy up to him.”

“Fae are tricksters, and they can’t be trusted.”

“How did you know to come up here?” I tapped my foot. “I left you on your way to the basement.”

“Hood knocked on the door almost as soon as you closed it behind me. He warned me Shane was a friend of the family. A very old friend of the family. Old things tend to get covetous when a new bauble catches their eye. Some have trouble accepting no for an answer.”

For Hood to warn Linus, I must have been in greater danger than I imagined. But I hadn’t felt threatened. Shane hadn’t made me feel like I was seconds away from him spiriting me away to Underhill to play faerie bride for him.

“I’m not a bauble,” I grumbled, sadly used to people viewing me as a thing to be owned.

A frown gathered between his eyes. “I know that.”

“I know you know.” I frowned back at him. “It just bugs me when people treat me like I’m not a person.”

The creases on his forehead deepened. “I know that too.”

Unable to help myself, I crossed to him and smoothed my thumb across his brow. “You know everything, huh?”

“No.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I don’t.”

“I’m teasing.” I slid my arms around his waist. “It was a play on words.”

“You used to call me a know-it-all.”

“I also used to wear diapers and eat boogers. What’s your point?”

“I want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy.”

“No one has ever…” He closed his mouth, thinned his lips, then tried again. “You do more than listen to me. You hear me. I don’t want to drone on until you tune out and I lose that.”

“You’re a brilliant man, and I love how your mind works. You don’t have to hide that from me. This—us—is your safe place. Our safe place. We can be ourselves when we’re together.” I pressed a kiss over his heart. “I won’t tease you again. Not about that.” I grinned up at him. “Everything else is fair game.”

The muscles in his jaw relaxed, and he managed a tight smile, but I saw through it.

After being emotionally isolated his entire life, he struggled with intimacy. His touches were still calculated, hesitant, our conversations stilted at times as he sorted through his layers to find the man beneath them all.

It would take time for him to trust he could be himself with me, that him—unmasked—was who I truly wanted. He might never initiate touch as often as I did, but that was okay. He had embraced all the broken parts of me, and I was just as willing to love all his jagged pieces.

“It’s getting late.” He traced the curve of my smile with a fingertip. “There’s something I would like to discuss with you in private before we go to bed.”

We.

Go to bed.

Like…together.

Gulp.

With so many extra bodies in the house, I understood his caution. “You want to head downstairs?”

“We could go to your room, or mine.”

I wet my lips then made my decision and led him by the hand to mine. “Are you going to set the ward, or do you want me to?”

“Would you mind?” He extended his pen toward me. “I love watching you work.”

A pleased flush heated my cheeks. “How can I say no to that?”

I knelt near the threshold and began drawing a series of interlocking sigils I plucked from the depths of my subconsciousness with barely a thought. Magic pulsed in the air, thickening, and then my ears popped.

“Would you like to check my work, Professor Lawson?”

“I felt it seal.” He wiggled a finger in his left ear. “Impressive.”

“What did you want to discuss?”

“Amelie.”

“Ah.” I sat on the bed and pulled my legs beneath me. “The impending deadline?”

“No.” He perched beside me. “This is about Ambrose.”

“That’s a fine line, but okay. I’m listening.”

“Have you considered why Ambrose might have been following you?”

“Revenge?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” He rested his hands on his thighs. “I suspect he’s been trailing you, testing the length of his tether, waiting to see how far he could go before Amelie died.” He rubbed his palms across the fabric. “The thought occurred to me that he might be hoping for a host exchange.”

“Wait until Amelie is on the brink of death, then approach me with an offer to let her live if I agree to bond with him?” I tugged down my hair and massaged my scalp. “But he can’t just flit from host to host. She would have to die for the connection to break. That, or we would have to exorcise him, which would kill her too.”

“Either way, she’s dead, and he would have your word that you would host him next.”

“That would mean he doesn’t know that we know separation would kill her.”

“A dybbuk tells their marks whatever they need to hear to believe the lie.”

“But he messed up tonight. He got caught before he could put his plan into action.” I dropped my head back and sighed at the ceiling. “That ought to make me feel better than it does.”

“There’s one more thing worth mentioning.”

“I’m ready.” I braced for impact. “Hit me.”

“There’s a possibility your design wasn’t the cause of Amelie’s episodes.”

Lightness spread through me, a ray of hope, but I shaded my heart against it. “You think Ambrose was testing his cage even then?”

Reflecting on the first night Amelie collapsed, I had to admit the symptoms fit.

Ambrose would have had to time each of Amelie’s original fainting spells to coincide with a strike against Woolly to cast blame away from himself, but he was sly. The attack on her wards offered him camouflage, a way to flex his muscles without alerting us to his strength.

Linus shifted his weight, and the mattress dipped beneath us. “Do you remember what Heinz said when he came to the house to treat Amelie?”

“That her condition reminded him of when new bonds are formed between necromancers and their familiars. Sometimes the animal pulls too much energy from its master, and the drain knocks the kid unconscious.” There was no polite way to ask. “The drain Amelie is experiencing, is that how it is for you?”

“I’ve had several years to chart the edges of my endurance, but yes. I must feed, or I can’t function. I learned that the hard way, during the early months when the hunger drove me out of my mind.”

I flinched before I could school my features, and he covered my hand with his.

“I didn’t understand what had happened to me. I had to research my condition as best I could, and that’s how I learned how to survive.” He speared his fingers through mine. “Once I understood, I was able to regain control over myself and my impulses. Amelie will be able to build on my experience. The transition to permanent host won’t be as traumatic for her as it was for me.”

“Are you sure?” Their situations were similar, but they weren’t identical.

“Ambrose was feeding on ghosts, vampires, and other paranormal energies. With a host to anchor him, he was self-sustaining. Now he’s dependent on her for sustenance unless she lets him hunt, and he’s too dangerous to be allowed off leash. Amelie has no experience with this type of hunger, but she can learn to control it—and him—in time.”

As selfish as it sounded, I couldn’t stop the thought forming. “This means I might be able to practice.”

The funny thing was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a practitioner anymore. There were vampires aplenty in the world, if you asked me. Was there a need for truly immortal ones who could spawn even more vampires? I had no interest in birthing a dynasty of purebloods, creating yet another caste to divide their population. I enjoyed using my magic, learning new skills, but I didn’t want the extent of my resume to read makes Deathless vampires.

Linus had opened my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities in more ways than one, and I wanted a chance to explore them, to decide what dreams the new Grier would chase.

“We can’t be certain without further testing, but this gives me a new avenue to research. It’s a promising lead.” His grip tightened. “It’s more than we had before.”

“You’ll figure it out.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m not in any hurry to procreate.”

Linus chuckled at that, no doubt remembering Woolly’s mortifying baby fever.

“You should get some rest.” He stroked my back. “Tomorrow promises to be a long night.”

I curled against his side. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll go change and pick up a few of my books.”

“You can use one of those clip-on lights if you want.” Most of his research materials were physical books while he did his pleasure reading digitally. “I don’t mind.”

“I read well enough in the dark.”

After he left, erasing the privacy sigil on his way, I dug around in a drawer until I found an old nightlight. I plugged it in on his side then collected a few extra blankets from the hall linen closet. He might not spend the whole night in bed with me, but I wanted him comfortable.

And then I changed into a lacy pink thong and a low-cut blue crop top because there was such a thing as too comfortable so early in a relationship.

As much as I want to say he found me in a scandalous pose and fell on me, ravaging me, I was unconscious the second my head hit the pillow.

Guess he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the glow of a nightlight and the weight of extra blankets.