How to Rattle an Undead Couple - Hailey Edwards Page 0,42
tell you right now, you’re not getting anywhere near it.”
The collection of rare pieces of necromantic history that comprised the Athenaeum were held in a vault beneath Atramentous.
I had been there. Linus and Boaz had gone with me. We three had risked imprisonment or death to learn how to save Savannah from my grandfather. There I had faced down my demons and used a memory sigil plucked from my genetic memory to recover as much of the collection as possible before we made our escape.
Leisha would never be allowed to waltz into the prison of my nightmares and browse the famed library to her heart’s content. I certainly wouldn’t be sharing my copies with her either.
There was no reason for me to be shocked or outraged when a snake acted like a snake.
The Marchands had lied to her, the same as they lied to everyone. She just hadn’t accepted it yet.
“We’re done here.” I mulled over her answers. “Can you extend your hospitality a while longer, Lethe?”
“Not a problem.” She bared her teeth. “What good is a dungeon if you never get to use it?”
The dungeon was a recent addition, but it wasn’t a literal dungeon. More of a modification to her existing basement to make accommodating vampires for extended stays in lightless rooms easier. They were useful for holding unruly gwyllgi too, but she tended to discipline her own people with her teeth.
After Linus released Leisha’s ankles, Lethe pulled her to her feet and marched her out the door.
“You didn’t push her,” Linus noted. “What did I miss?”
“You worried she slipped her NDA. I don’t think she signed one. She’s great at illusions, right?”
One sigil could have given the contract the appearance of her signature without binding her to its terms.
“No one has successfully fooled Mother in my lifetime.” He set about washing dishes, which he did when he wanted to think. “She hired Leisha for her talent to avoid involving either of us, not for her trustworthiness.” He soaped his rag. “There’s always a first time for everything.”
Lost in thought, I hummed in absent agreement that earned me a searching look from him.
“Marchand involvement was unexpected,” he said quietly. “Are you all right?”
“It’s not like I had any illusions left that we would ever be one big, happy family.”
I hadn’t seen or heard from my cousin since her mother, Rhiannon Marchand, was tried for multiple counts of murder and found guilty of all charges. I could never find it in my heart to celebrate someone being cast into the pit that was Atramentous, but I had come close with her.
Nothing would bring back my parents, or Maud, but justice had been served. As the potentate, sworn to uphold Society law, I had to accept that was enough. Even if the little girl in me who ached from missing her mom and adoptive mother, who never met her father, hadn’t been and would never be satisfied.
“Eloise took her mother’s sentencing so well.” I slumped over the bar. “I blamed shock at the time, but it appears she was too busy plotting her revenge to act the part of grieving daughter.”
“I pity her child,” Linus said at last. “The timing of her pregnancy can’t be coincidental.”
With her twin, Heloise, dead, her mother in prison for—among other crimes—the murders of Severine Marchand, our grandmother, and Johan Marchand, Severine’s husband, Eloise had no family left either.
“I had hoped the quiet of the last few years meant she had returned to Raleigh, to the family estate, and moved on with her life.” I traced the veins in the marble countertop. “Married Richelieu, spawned the next generation of Marchands, that kind of thing.”
“According to Leisha,” Corbin said, “that’s precisely what she did.”
Eloise had been engaged to Richelieu when we met. Long engagements among the High Society weren’t unusual given our lifespans. For obvious reasons, I hadn’t received a wedding invite. As time marched on with no retaliation for Rhiannon’s imprisonment, I had relaxed my vigilance on that front.
“Hold on.” Cranking my head toward him, I verified, “According to Leisha?”
I might be done with the Marchands, but that didn’t guarantee they were done with me. I wasn’t a total idiot. I had given Linus permission to monitor the Marchands for signs of trouble, as if I could have stopped him after all the grief they had caused me, but I had no interest in periodic updates on them. I wanted nothing to do with the maternal side of my family tree. Or my paternal branch.