How to Rattle an Undead Couple (The Beginner's Guide to Necromancy Book 9) Read online

  How to Rattle an Undead Couple

  Hailey Edwards

  Copyright © 2020 Black Dog Books, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Proofread by Lillie's Literary Services

  Cover by Damonza

  Tree of Life medallion drawn by Leah Farrow

  Contents

  How to Rattle an Undead Couple

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  New Series Alert!

  Join the Society

  About the Author

  Also by Hailey Edwards

  How to Rattle an Undead Couple

  The Epilogues: Part III

  Bring on the cakes, balloons, cakes, gifts, cakes, and…well…cakes. It’s time for Grier’s baby shower!

  Grier is ready to smile for the cameras, rip open the presents, and finally taste that lemon chiffon cake, but it’s just not meant to be. The Grande Dame is MIA, which turns the big event into an even bigger search party. And that delicious cake? It’s going right back in the fridge.

  While Grier doesn’t have the best relationship with her mother-in-law, she’s determined her child will grow up with one living grandparent or else. Even if it means wiggling into maternity jeans, putting on actual shoes, and waddling over to Lawson Manor to investigate the potential kidnapping.

  Just as the investigation turns a corner, Grier pays the price for her stress. The baby wants out ahead of schedule, and it has a unique way of making its desires known. Unique and terrifying. Now the race is on to find the Grande Dame before the baby makes his or her first appearance.

  What do you get when you cross a goddess-touched necromancer with an Eidolon?

  Linus and Grier are about to find out firsthand. Now they just have to survive parenthood.

  One

  The cake on the counter, the one with the do not eat sign propped in front of it, tempted me. Lethe had talked Linus and me into a gender reveal cake for my official baby shower, and its interior beckoned. Not because of the secret it held, but because it was a lemon chiffon cake, and I had been craving citrus like crazy for the last three months. The smell of it made me salivate, and breathing in, I almost tasted it.

  Maybe no one would notice if I stole a teensy bite? Or a slice? One slice. Who would notice that?

  It was my cake, so it wasn’t really stealing. More like sampling. Yeah. Sampling. That sounded less felonious.

  Sneaking around to the back, I groaned at the second sign in a larger font.

  Get your preggo butt out of the kitchen and away from this cake ASAP.

  The curtains on the windows rustled as Woolworth House laughed at my pain and suffering.

  “Lethe is so mean,” I complained to Woolly. “Who put her in charge anyway?”

  “You did,” the meanie said from the doorway. “Here.”

  A cupcake sat on her palm, its frosting a creamy yellow, and delicate spirals of lemon peel adorned the top.

  “For me?” I snatched it before she could answer and shoved it into my mouth. “Fank oo.”

  “You’re welcome.” She brought her other hand out from behind her back to reveal a second cupcake. “Why don’t we go wait for Neely?”

  “Neely is going to force me to look presentable.”

  “You’re Dame Woolworth, the Grande Dame’s daughter-in-law, and the Potentate of Savannah. You have to look presentable.” Backing toward the living room, she lured me across the threshold then handed over the treat. “Just sit right here, in the place of honor.”

  A wingback chair had been wrapped in pink and blue crepe paper, studded with pink and blue balloons, and sprinkled with pink and blue glitter from the crown I was expected to wear, guaranteeing I would be washing sparkles out of my hair for days.

  The living room was freakishly quiet without Keet occupying his usual spot by the window, but the goofball was banished to the office until after our guests left to avoid his farting noises giving the Grande Dame an aneurism.

  “You’re not fooling me.” I started on the second cupcake while she eased me onto my throne. “I’m onto you.”

  “If you’re implying that I’m using food to motivate you to behave, then yes. You’re right. I am.” She produced a third cupcake from thin air. No. Wait. Oscar handed it to her. The traitor. “You’re about to pop. I’m not too worried about you seeking revenge for my manipulations any time soon.”

  The small ghost boy wore his usual dark-blue sailor suit with sagging ankle socks and dirtied canvas shoes. A matching cap, wrinkled within an inch of its life, rested at a jaunty angle on his mass of blond curls.

  No smile for me, no eye contact either, proof he was still grumpy the Grande Dame had insisted he remain in his room during the party.

  Mad was not a great mood for a poltergeist frozen at the age of six, so I would have to make it up to him if I didn’t want a tantrum later. But he would have to be a good little ghost boy to earn his reward.

  Motherhood, even with undead children, was tough. Never let anyone tell you different.

  Balling up a sticky wrapper I showed great restraint in not licking clean, I let Oscar sulk while I hurled it at Lethe’s face. “If you tell me you can walk faster than I can waddle one more time…”

  Teeth flashing, she laughed at my expense. “You just did it for me.”

  The lights dialed brighter then flickered as a thrill shot through Woolly, a sure sign company was coming.

  “Mom.” Eva stepped through the front door with a pudgy toddler on her hip. “Be nice to Grier.”

  “Thank you, Eva-Diva.” I beamed at her. “I always knew you were my favorite niece for a reason.”

  Number one was how she could walk into a room and tell when her mom was being mean to me, which, in my humble opinion, was always. For a girl about to turn three who could pass for a tween, she had maturity in spades.

  “I’m your only niece,” she said, as she had a hundred times before, but then a brilliant smile broke across her face, and she kissed the top of the toddler’s head. “Guess I can’t say that anymore, huh?”

  “What treachery is this?” Lethe gaped at her offspring. “I’m the nicest person you know.”

  “Mom.” Eva rolled her eyes. “That stopped being true when I got old enough to leave the house.”

  “What did you do to Kaleigh?” I wasn’t an expert on babies, but the toddler was drooling, and it was blue. “She looks exhausted.”

  “I let her join the other pups during recess. She played until snack time, ate three sugar-free blue raspberry ice pops, then curled up under a tree.” Eva plopped down on the couch, Kaleigh barely stirring. “She’s guaranteed to sleep through your party now, no
interruptions.”

  “You’re a genius,” I praised her. “An evil genius, but we don’t discriminate in this family.”

  The toddler, Kaleigh Kinase, was a new addition to the Savannah gwyllgi pack and the Kinase family.

  When she was only a few months old, Kaleigh was earmarked as a sacrifice for a black magic ritual. Linus and I shut down the dark rite with help from Lethe and Hood before she came to any harm, but Kaleigh’s parents had been murdered by the same witches who planned to sacrifice her, and the bleak experience had left Kaleigh with a dark aura no amount of smudging could remove.

  Social services, the paranormal branch, made it plain Kaleigh had no prospects, that no family would risk what developed when the girl hit puberty and that darkness manifested, but they had been wrong.

  Hood and Lethe had been trying for another baby, and when they heard the news about Kaleigh, they leapt at the chance to welcome her into their family. Eva, who was rarely a diva these days, was in heaven with a playmate she would never outgrow since sisters were forever.

  It was good training for the day when Linus and I needed a babysitter for our little terror. And yeah, with Lethe as his or her godmother, and Hood as her or his godfather, I had no illusions I wasn’t giving birth to a future hellion. All I could do was pray to Hecate that he or she took more after her father than me.

  “I also packed board games,” Eva said to the grumpy ghost boy. “We can play while they party.”

  Oscar zoomed around the room until he blurred, then called, “Race you upstairs.”

  Eva never stood a chance. No one beats a boy who can zip through walls. Not that she tried, with Kaleigh still in her arms.

  Woolly’s lights flashed an incoming warning, and she opened the door in a rush.

  “Thank you, Woolly,” Neely panted from behind a mountain of gifts stacked higher than his head. “I’m about to drop everything.”

  The house, who loved him as much as I did, blew him a kiss on the warm air currents from the vents.

  Suck up, I thought at her. You’re angling for those new stained-glass windows.

  Hired to help me decorate the baby’s room, Neely made the epic mistake of buying Woolly new curtains to freshen up the living room. More small touches had spilled out into the rest of the rooms from there as they slowly redecorated the entire house with little or no feedback from Linus and me.

  The old girl had sat abandoned and alone for years, so I didn’t begrudge her the expert makeover. Even if I did start to wonder if she was stealing Neely from me.

  Cruz strolled in behind his husband with a sleek garment bag slung over his shoulder. “Hello, all.”

  For Cruz, that greeting was tantamount to a round of warm hugs and sloppy kisses.

  Obviously, I was immediately suspicious.

  After hanging the bag on the downstairs salon door, he rushed to unload Neely’s arms.

  “You should have let me carry these,” he chided. “You’re working too hard on this baby shower.”

  “You just like to fuss.” Neely kissed Cruz’s cheek. “And I like to let you.”

  “I’m going to put Kaleigh down while it’s still quiet,” Eva murmured, heading upstairs to our baby’s room and the playpen Kaleigh preferred to nap in when she visited us. Glancing over her shoulder, she singled me out. “Oscar and I will hang in your room so I can keep an ear out for her, if that’s okay?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Grier.”

  “You’ve got a good kid there.” I watched her go with a sigh. “She’s growing up so fast.”

  All parents said it, but in her case, it was one hundred percent true. She was blazing through childhood.

  “I found a picture of a boy in her room.” Lethe’s mouth pulled to one side. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Neely butted into our conversation. “You need to get dressed for your party.”

  With a sweep of my hand, I invited him to admire my baggy sweats and blue tank top streaked with orange fingerprints from the cheeseballs I ate before bed. This one even had a built-in snack drawer, I mean, bra. “I am dressed.”

  “You’re wearing clothes,” Neely agreed, wiping crumbs off my mouth. “From three days ago.”

  Licking my lips before he stole any more precious calories, I pouted at him. “I like what I’m wearing.”

  “I can tell,” he said dryly. “I’ll put it on to wash, and you can change back into it after the party.”

  “No.”

  “The photographer will be here soon. High Society Mothers needs candids for their article, remember?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you want a visual history of this moment for your child to flip through later?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you want—?”

  “Another cupcake?” Lethe snapped her fingers, and Oscar reappeared, bouncing in place like he had to potty, he was so eager to get back to Eva. “I’ll give it to you if you cooperate.”

  “No.”

  A second cupcake appeared in Oscar’s hands, and Lethe grinned. “I’ll give you two.”

  The deal interested me, of course, but I had already eaten two, and she was offering me two more. That meant I would have had four. She never ordered less than a dozen, so there were eight more cupcakes hidden somewhere in the house.

  Hmm.

  Oscar could be bribed with a new Nerf Blaster to bring me the rest, and then I wouldn’t have to move. Not moving was nice. I enjoyed it. So much it was my new favorite hobby.

  A joyful zing through my bond with Woolly distracted me from my plotting, and my pulse skipped a beat.

  “You made it just in time,” Neely said as the back door shut. “I was starting to worry.”

  The rest, that he would have to wrangle the cranky pregnant lady alone, went unspoken.

  Linus bent over the back of the ridiculous chair, brushed his cool lips across my bare shoulder, and chills skated in their wake.

  Heart fluttering, I tipped my head back and stared up at him. “Hi.”

  Tonight, his dark-auburn hair was gathered at his nape, a sure sign he had been working and didn’t feel up to fussing with it. Meanwhile, my fingers itched to slide off the elastic and run my fingers through the silky length. As if reading my mind, he smiled, crinkling the corners of his dark blue eyes, and I was lost.

  “Hello,” he breathed in my ear. “Are you excited?”

  The baby chose that moment to jump on my bladder like its own personal trampoline.

  “So excited I could wet my pants.” I wriggled to emphasize my point. “Help?”

  Linus circled around to the front of the chair, and we clasped forearms. He hauled me to my feet in a practiced move, and I was tempted to rise onto my tiptoes to smooch him until I remembered my ankles were swollen, and my ability to stand on tiptoe abandoned me around the seven-month mark.

  After a brief trip to the little necromancer’s room, which also required Linus’s assistance since Woolly’s original toilets were shorter than modern ones, I allowed him to dress me in the downstairs salon while Lethe fed me the two cupcakes she owed me.

  Oscar had vanished while I was distracted by Linus, taking all hope of more cupcakes with him.

  Ah, well. Might as well save room for the main course. That cake in the kitchen wasn’t going to eat itself.

  The outfit Neely had chosen was a maxi dress with the most flattering drape possible when you’re nine months pregnant and showing every hard-earned pound of it. Even the print made me smile. Dozens of baby rattles in all shapes, sizes, and colors speckled the fabric.

  We didn’t put much stock in the whole pink or blue thing—I was a fan of purple myself—but it did simplify the big reveal portion of the evening.

  Prepared for the worst, I scrunched up my toes. “You might as well show me what misery lies ahead.”

  Given Neely’s affinity for fancy toe prisons, I worried about my swollen feet’s imminent incarc
eration.

  All that stress bled from my soles when Linus unboxed a pair of leather ballet flats in a sunny yellow.

  “Brace on the wall,” he said, “and I’ll slide these on you.”

  For the last two months, I hadn’t been able to see my feet over my belly. Forget bending or pulling on real shoes. I had given up on those altogether and embraced a maternity in Crocs. They made my feet happy, I could take them off and put them on by myself, and they came in a variety of colors that made me weirdly giddy as I added to my collection.

  Hormones.

  What can you do?

  The flats weren’t Crocs, but they would do nicely.

  “Knock, knock.” Neely called from the other side of the door. “How’s our girl?”

  “Decent,” Linus told him. “You can come in.”

  “Oh, Grier.” Hand to his mouth, Neely entered the room. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “You’ve outdone yourself.” I smiled at him. “I feel beautiful.”

  I had wanted my curves back, and now I had miles of them. Just not exactly where I had pictured them.

  “You’re always beautiful.” He rushed over and gathered me against him for a lingering hug. “Always.”

  “You’re so good to me.” The backs of my eyelids stung. “You’re the best guy friend a girl could ask for.”

  We clung to each other, sobbing openly, while Linus and Cruz, used to our outbursts, reached for the mini packets of tissue they were never without these days.

  Neely was a sympathetic crier. One tear from me and his floodgates gushed open. He and I bawled together at least once a day for no particular reason, but it felt great having someone to sniffle with instead of being the hormonal pregnant lady in the room all the time.