How to Rattle an Undead Couple - Hailey Edwards Page 0,11
whatever it took to keep Neely’s faith in him.
“Whatever you need.” Lethe shared a predatory glance with her mate. “We’ve got your backs.”
“Nothing leaves this room.” Hood singled out the driver. “Understood?”
The driver paled, swallowed audibly, and nodded quick agreement.
“He’s been with Mother for decades,” Linus said, pardoning him. “Her maid has too.”
“That doesn’t mean we can afford not to look at them,” Grier said softly. “We have to be certain.”
“Oh.” Neely snapped his fingers. “You can do that truth thingie on him, right?”
“I can.” She glanced at Marco. “Do you consent?”
Consent wasn’t required, but she preferred it. Permission kept her on the right side of a line she had drawn for herself, one she hated crossing when left with no other choice.
“I do, ma’am.” He crossed to Grier. “Whatever is required to find Madam, I give hearty consent.”
“All right.” She reached into her dress pocket and removed the pocketknife she had stolen from Linus years ago. Several wrapped peppermints left over from her morning sickness phase tumbled out with it. “Let’s mark our first suspect off the list, shall we?”
The sight of Grier cutting herself for blood to use as ink in her workings was old hat by now, an accepted part of necromantic life, but that didn’t stop Linus from wishing he could bleed for her, hurt for her.
As if she picked up on the drift of his thoughts, she flicked a glance his way then blew him a kiss.
The simple truth was plain for him to see.
He didn’t deserve her.
But he was smart enough not to say so out loud twice in one night.
Three
Poor Linus.
Without his mask concealing his thoughts, I read them clearly, and I accepted that my work here was not yet done. He still thought life without him was possible for me, when he had spoiled me to being loved, cherished, and respected. A combination more addictive than brownie batter ice cream with peanut butter cookie dough pieces. And ribbons of caramel and fudge.
Mmm.
“You’re not hungry.” Lethe made it a statement. “Why is your stomach growling?”
“You’re not the boss of me or my son.” Mature as always, I stuck out my tongue. “We can growl if we want to, and also does anyone have more of that Fudgy Cookie Dreams ice cream because whoa does that sound fabulous right now.”
The grim expectation in the room cut through the snackish haze long enough for me to remember I was supposed to be truth-testing the driver before we included him in any more of our plans, not daydreaming about frozen delights.
Pregnancy brain was a thing, and I had it bad.
The sigil was a familiar one, thanks to frequent use in my new line of work, and it took seconds to swipe it on and begin the interrogation. The man was squeaky clean, his loyalty to the Grande Dame absolute. I didn’t get any new details from him, proving his recall was excellent, and he was cooperating fully.
“Return to the Lawson manor,” I told him. “We’ll be right behind you.”
“Stay in the car until we arrive,” Linus added. “We need to search the area before it’s disturbed more than it already has been.”
Chastised, the driver tucked his chin. “I apologize, sir.”
“You did what you thought was right,” I assured him. “What any of us would have done in the moment.”
The relief that washed through Linus splashed onto me. Usually, he was the considerate one, but this had left him frazzled. It was nice to step in and smooth his rough edges for once. Nicer still that he was allowing himself to show his nerves rather than tucking them away where not even his friends could see.
“She’s right.” Linus exhaled. “I meant no disrespect, Marco.”
“Of course not, sir.”
Based on the brief interview process, I got the feeling any Lawson could kick Marco in the mouth, and he would thank them while he collected his teeth off the ground. I had no clue what about the Grande Dame could have inspired such loyalty, but it was commendable.
“Neely and Cruz.” I scooched to the edge of my seat. “Check the local hospitals for anyone matching the Grande Dame’s description.”
For Linus’s sake, I would handle the morgues, para and human, personally.
“I’ll drop Eva and Kaleigh at home with a sitter,” Hood volunteered. “Back in a minute.”
He collected his kids, allowed us all quick goodbye hugs, and then he was gone.
Or so I thought, until Eva stuck her head back in the door.
“Forgot to mention Oscar drained his battery,” she said. “I