Wisps of the dream swirled through my head to mingle with the memories Woolly had shared with me. I didn’t wake screaming or on the floor. But I did gasp alert to the sensation of cool fabric under my cheek and faint snores rustling my hair.

Barely daring to move, I tilted my head back and peered up at my first glimpse of Linus in a restful, natural sleep. His black-frame glasses had slid down his nose onto his upper lip. A book splayed open beside him, his fingers twitching as if turning pages in his dreams. His hair was pulled back from his face, and I indulged in the opportunity to admire the splash of freckles across his cheeks, the soft curve of his mouth, the hard line of his jaw.

He was beautiful, and he was mine.

The swell of emotion behind my breastbone almost choked me, and I couldn’t breathe easy until I buried my face in his shoulder. Allowing my hand to roam across the lean muscle of his chest, I slid my hand under his tee and traced the ridged contours of his abdomen.

Chills dappled his skin, and his chest rose in a great wave. “I fell asleep.”

“I noticed.” I teased the elastic waistband of his pants with a fingertip. “Have good dreams?”

The air punched from his lungs when I wrapped my hand around his hardening length. “I’m still dreaming.”

“Then consider me your wake-up call.”

I shimmied down his body, ducking under the covers along the way, and straddled his knees. The dark gave me confidence to tug his pajama bottoms past his hips and explore him as he had me, to learn what touches arched his back, how much pressure made him writhe, and how he tasted. Everywhere.

When he was a boneless puddle beneath me, I climbed up him and flopped on his chest. “Hi.”

Wrist pinned over his eyes, he grunted. It was the least eloquent thing he had ever said to me, yet I glowed with his praise.

Five minutes or a hundred later, he grasped my hips, his fingers easing under the scrap of lace. “These distracted me all day.”

“Good.” I shifted just enough that my slouchy top slid off my shoulder, exposing the top of one breast. “They distracted me too.” The lace itched, and it had crawled into places underwear should not visit. “Next time, I’m going to stay awake long enough to seduce you and then change back into granny panties. These are meant to be seen and not slept in.”

“Let me help.” He hooked the sides of my panties with his thumbs then slid them down my thighs. “Better?”

“Much.”

And it got even better after that.

A text message burst the bubble Linus and I had existed in since waking. Fresh from the shower, we sat at the bar in the kitchen while I ate, and he read the news on his phone. I set aside the Canadian bacon I didn’t have the heart to explain wasn’t really bacon long enough to check my cell.

“Amelie is ready.” I swiped my thumb over the rest of her message. “Boaz wants to be there. She’s asking if that’s okay.”

Attention on me, Linus set aside his phone. “It’s your decision.”

“I won’t deny her the comfort of her brother unless he forces us to remove him.”

“All right.”

Fingers hesitating over the screen, I double-checked with him. “You’re really okay with this?”

“I stopped caring what Boaz Pritchard thinks or says or does after spending five minutes in his company. I believe I was ten at the time.”

“Burn.” I chuckled. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I tolerated him, for you. After his recent behavior, I don’t owe him even that much civility.”

When he was right, he was right. “I want to check in with Lethe before we head to the carriage house.”

“I made her a plate.” He collected it from the oven and passed it to me. “Hood bought her a mini fridge earlier. She ought to have milk and orange juice up there.” He flicked a glance at the refrigerator in front of us. “We’re missing a few cartons, and what’s left was strategically placed to conceal their absence.”

“That sounds like Lethe, all right.” Food must taste better after it’s been stolen. “Back in a few.”

I hit the stairs and knocked on her door, surprised when she answered it herself.

“I thought you were on bed rest.” I picked up a piece of sausage and stuffed it in her mouth before she could growl at me. “I don’t have long, but I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

“I’m healed,” she muttered between vicious chews. “Shane says so.”

Telltale prickles burned my nape, but I worked to keep my expression neutral when she mentioned him.

“He hit on you.” The wonder in her voice made me cringe. “Shane wants in your pants.”

“He was a gentleman about it,” I deflected, edging past her to set her plate on the nightstand.

“Don’t sweat it.” She adopted a bland expression. “If he didn’t know there’s no room in your pants before, he knows it now.”

“Lethe.”

“Oh, Linus.” She fell back on the bed and writhed, arching her back. “Oh, goddess. Yes. Yes. Yes!”

I could have cracked an egg on my face, and it would have sizzled. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You two got busy a few doors down from gwyllgi. Trust me. We all know how you sound.”

Thanks to my body’s insistence it make up all the sleep I had been doing without the past several months, I had forgotten about warding the room before I put the moves on Linus.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Hood appeared in the doorway, eyes on his wife. “Are you two watching porn?”

“I was just showing Grier how I imagine her O face,” Lethe said sweetly. “Based on what I heard, anyway.”

Wiping a hand down his face, he looked between us. “What is wrong with you two?”

“The list is long, and my time is short.” I patted him on the shoulder on my way out. “Take care of our wife.”

“Our—” A snarl rent the air, but it was hard to hear it over Lethe’s cackling.

He made a grab for me, and I suspected he would have tickled me to death, but I flew down the stairs like the hounds of hell—or a really pissed-off dog-lizard thing—were on my heels.

The laughter in my throat died when I spotted Linus waiting on me. He carried a bag of supplies slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t his usual necromancy gear, but I could see jars of ink bulging in the pockets. This was his tattoo machine and supplies.

The lightness of the evening drained away like I had never teased him under the covers or tormented Hood with my friendship with Lethe.

“We should go,” he said when I couldn’t find any words to encompass what was about to happen.

“Okay.” I pressed my palm against the doorframe on my way out. “Hold down the fort.”

Woolly’s presence glided through my senses, leaving calm in her wake.

The walk to the carriage house kept my mind looping on the trips I had made through the garden to visit Linus, how each of those interactions had chipped away at my heart until he had carved a niche all his own.

Linus let me take the lead, and that meant I got to experience the joy of Boaz opening the door firsthand.

“Grier,” he rumbled. “Come in.”

Blinking in surprise at his nearly polite tone, I stood frozen on the threshold.

“I owe you an apology,” Boaz said gruffly. “Both of you.”

Amelie entered the room, and her amazement mirrored mine.

“There’s no excuse for what I said and did.” He told this to the trim in the doorway above my head. “Adelaide ripped me a new one after I explained the bruises.” His jaw tightened, drawing my eye to the heavy purple and green mottling on his skin. “She deserves better than to hear I got beat up for showing my ass. She deserves better than me, but I’m what she chose.” He lowered his gaze a fraction, to the level of the peephole mounted in the door. “I’m going to do better by her, and that means we’re getting out of Savannah for a while after the wedding.”

“Okay.” That checked one item off my to-do list. “Space sounds like a good idea.”

“Linus…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m an asshole, I’m always going to be an asshole, but I could be less of an asshole to you going forward.”

Linus had the grace not to rub salt in the wound. “I accept your apology.”

“Is that what that was?” I wasn’t so graceful. “It sounds more like a list of his shortcomings to me.”

“I swear to the goddess,” a feminine voice muttered from the office. “He’s hopeless.”

Adelaide stepped out wearing jeans and a pink top with her blonde hair up in a ponytail.

“Hey, Grier.” She glared at Boaz. “I threatened to send him out here with notes on index cards, but he convinced me he could handle it.”

“I apologized,” Boaz gritted out. “He accepted.”

The frown lines bracketing her mouth deepened. “What about Grier?”

“I’m not going to ask for her forgiveness.” His jaw flexed. “There’s no excuse for what I’ve done.”

“Well, you got that much right at least.” She shot Linus a tentative smile. “I’m the home-wrecking harlot.” She extended her arm. “You can call me Adelaide.”

“You’re a woman making the best of the hand she’s been dealt,” he corrected her. “I’m Linus.”

Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “You’re even prettier up close than you were from across the ballroom.”

The look Boaz cut her promised there would be words later. Loud ones. Ugly ones.

He strode out into the garden, and she watched him go, an exhale sending loose hairs skating over her cheek.

“I should go smooth his feathers.” She shrugged when I started to warn her off that plan. “I live to ruffle them, so it’s the least I can do.” On her way past Linus, she said, “You really are pretty, but I’m sorry to have objectified you. I’m teaching Boaz a lesson that ought to enable us to spend the rest of our lives together without one of us ending up in a premature grave. So far, blunt force seems to be the only effective way of getting through to him.”

Linus actually smiled after she left. “I like her.”

“I do too.” As long as she kept her heart out of their bargain, their marriage just might work.

“Me three,” Amelie chimed in. “She will be the making of him.” She shrugged. “Or the death of him. Definitely one of those things.” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“You’re sure?” Linus scanned her face. “You want to bond with Ambrose for the rest of your life?”

A tremor shook her hands, and she squeezed them tighter. “The only other option is death, right?”

“The dybbuk has discovered how to work around the tattoo you already have, and he can slip the wards to leave the house. We could establish stronger wards, if you like, but that’s a temporary solution. Your indenture is almost up, and I’m guessing you don’t want to be confined a moment longer than necessary. Fixing the wards won’t address the issue.”

“I’m grateful to Grier for everything she’s done for me, but yeah. I’m looking forward to freedom.”

“You’re sure you want to do this?” I pressed. “I’m not saying death is the better alternative, but I want to make sure you understand your options. We could reinforce the wards to give Linus time to figure out a workaround.”

“It’s a fitting punishment.” Her knuckles turned white. “I wanted him, now I’ve got him. For life.”

A pang rocked me, and I reached for her. “Amelie…”

“I can handle this.” She stepped back before I could offer her comfort. “I need the scales to balance before the slate gets wiped clean.”

Unsure what to do with my hands, I tucked them into my pants pockets. “What do you need from me?”

Linus understood I was asking him, and he guided me to the office, away from Amelie, to give us privacy.

“I need you to design a new sigil for her.” He stroked a finger across the bend of my right arm. “I’ll also need some of your blood for the ink. I believe it’s the only thing strong enough to contain him permanently.”

“If we’re wrong about Ambrose being the problem all along, she’ll be bound to me.”

“If we’re wrong about Ambrose, she already is, and we’ll have to break the connection before she moves out either way.”

Nodding, I sank into the chair behind the desk. Linus offered me a pad and pencil, and I plumbed the depths of that well of knowledge burbling in the back of my mind. A design rose to the surface, and I fished it out, studied it, and then started drawing.

When I finished an hour or so later, Linus stood over me with something like awe softening his features.

“You never cease to amaze me.” He traced the pattern with his fingertip. “This is perfect.”

“All I did was remember.” I shrugged off his praise. “It’s no big deal.”

“Show me another necromancer who could do the same, and I’ll agree with you.”

Cheeks heating, I didn’t fight the compliment a second time as I extended my arm to fulfill my other obligation. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“I have more practice.” Linus trailed his fingertips over the ripe veins. “It’s your call.”

“I trust you.”

After pressing his cool lips in the crease, he sterilized the area then drew the blood he needed.

“Weird,” I mused. “I don’t get hungry when I smell my own blood, but I salivate over yours.”

“You wouldn’t get hungry for human flesh if you smelled a steak on the grill.”

“Nice try, but no cigar. They aren’t comparable.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Just admit it. You’re delicious. This is all your fault.”

“I’m delicious,” he dutifully repeated, “and this is all my fault.”

“Am I interrupting?” Amelie stood in the doorway, wavering on the threshold. “I can come back.”

“I was just teasing Linus.” I smiled with what I hoped passed for reassurance. “You’re fine.”

“How much longer do you think this will take?” She fidgeted. “I’ve made up my mind, but I want it over.”

“We’re done.” I stood, offering Linus the drawing. “He’ll mix up the ink, and we’ll be ready to start.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Do you think you could wait outside?”

“I…” A pang rocked me. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

“I’ll take care of her,” he promised me. “I’ll get you if there are any complications.”

“All right.” I lingered for a moment, but the look on Amelie’s face said she wanted to bolt. Clearly, I was as much of a trigger for her as she was for me. “I’ll go keep Boaz company.”

Linus stilled, just for a second, half that, but it was enough to betray his hesitation.

“I’ll be right outside,” I reassured him. “I’ll let Lethe take out her pent-up aggression on him if he gives me any lip.”

“Call me if you do.” An infinitesimal smile made an appearance. “I would like to see that.”

Amelie looked like she might want to argue against her brother taking another beating from a pregnant gwyllgi, but she must have decided it was smarter not to antagonize the guy about to ink her.

Outside, I found Adelaide, but not Boaz. “Where did he get off to?”

“He’s walking the perimeter. All these gwyllgi have him nervous.” She rolled her eyes. “Or so he says. I think we can both tell he’s worried about his sister.”

She had claimed one of the Adirondack chairs I kept meaning to sand and repaint but somehow never got around to doing either. I plopped down in the one next to her, and it groaned a complaint and leaned to one side.

“I could fix that for you,” Adelaide offered. “All I need is some wood glue and a few screws.”

“I might have that in the garage.” We stood, careful not to collapse our seats, and went to investigate. “We’ll be safe that far.”

Guiding her to the garage still crammed to the rafters with boxes full of Boaz memorabilia—and his bike—made me feel like I had been caught naked with him on the couch in her living room. She would take one look at my collection, gathered over a lifetime of living next door to him, and see with her own eyes how deep the wound had cut.

Sucking in a breath, I rolled up the garage door and flipped on the lights.

Adelaide was drawn straight to Wilhelmina. “That’s his bike, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I flinched away from all the rest. His leather jacket, gloves, helmet. They had been tossed on her seat like he would be back at any moment. “Matron Prichard wasn’t hot on him parking a bike in her driveway, so he got in the habit of leaving her here. He’s done it for years.”

It doesn’t mean anything, I almost added, but that would have been a lie.

“This one is yours?” She wandered over to Jolene. “She’s beautiful.”

There was too much history with that bike between him and me to give her a full answer, so I settled for a simple one. “Yeah. Her name’s Jolene.”

Smiling, she trailed her fingers over the handlebars. “Like the Dolly Parton song?”

The lyrics rose in my memory, the poignant plea—one woman to another—not to take her man.

The bike’s name had never bothered me. Boaz had christened her, after all, but I still got chills.

“Any luck with the tools?” Her gaze panned the space, landing on a high school football jersey here, the lion costume from an elementary school play there, then a plastic crown fit for a prom king. “Do you need any help?”

“They should be right here.” Sure enough, I found what she required, including an electric drill with a set of drill bits and an extension cord. “Success.”

After I flipped off the lights and rolled the door closed, Adelaide kept staring where Willie sat.

As much as I didn’t want to know the answer, I had to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She yanked her gaze from the garage and helped me carry the supplies. “I just had no idea what I was up against.” She looked back once. “Until now.”