How to Claim an Undead Soul Read online

  The room held its collective breath in anticipation of what juicy morsels Amelie might hand-feed them.

  “I summoned Ambrose,” Amelie rasped through a dry throat. “I bound him to me.”

  Matron Pritchard’s face snapped hard toward her daughter as if the words had been a slap. “No.”

  “Yes,” Amelie said, and I don’t think I imagined the loathing simmering there.

  “I have pressing matters to attend before dawn, Matron Pritchard,” the Grande Dame said. “What is your answer?”

  “The Pritchard Family will not be held accountable for the actions of Amelie Madison,” Matron Pritchard enunciated clearly. One frail tear snaked from each eye before she gathered her composure. “I, Annabeth Pritchard, Matron Pritchard, hereby disown my middle child, my only daughter, and leave her fate to the assembly to decide.”

  Amelie hit the marble tiles on her knees, her mouth open on a silent scream.

  Madison was her middle name, her last name now. She was no longer a Pritchard.

  “You made me do this,” Matron Pritchard hissed at me. “This is on your head, not mine.”

  Rushing to his sister, Boaz dragged Amelie into the protective circle of his arms.

  “Step away,” his mother warned him. “She’s no longer a member of this family.”

  “You disowned her.” Ice glazed his voice. “You. Not me.” He pulled back to stare into Amelie’s vacant eyes as he said, “She’s my sister, my blood, no matter what you say.”

  “Don’t test me.” His mother vibrated with rage. “The Grande Dame has not granted my request yet.”

  “Macon will make a fine heir” was all he said, but his mother swayed on her feet.

  Mr. Pritchard was slow to come to his wife’s aid, and he steadied her with as much care as a tornado paid a telephone poll.

  She didn’t speak again.

  “Your petition is granted. Amelie Madison Pritchard will be stricken from your lineage and histories.” The Grande Dame made a shooing motion toward the couple. “You may go now. The rest of these proceedings no longer concern you.”

  Mr. Pritchard opened his mouth to protest, but his wife shook her head, and they left together with enough space between their bodies to fit some small countries.

  “You there. Boy.” The Grande Dame made an impatient gesture at Boaz. “You’re excused as well.”

  His glare was a loaded weapon in search of a target. “I’m not leaving her to face judgment alone.”

  “Mother,” Linus called her attention to him. “The clan who called for a blood tithe—” He stepped forward, appearing curious, and used his body to block Boaz from her sight. “You didn’t mention if that debt was satisfied.”

  “Oh. Yes.” She smiled warmly at him. “It is the belief of this assembly that the blood tithe was an empty gesture meant to inflict pain upon the intended target as her relationship with the defendant is well-known. That debt is, as you say, satisfied.”

  “That leaves the total sum of Amelie’s debt as three point five million dollars.” The numbness was wearing off, and in its place boiled a simmering rage I would have felt for any girl abandoned by her family to face sentencing alone, guilty or not, but it struck me doubly so because it was Amelie. No matter what she had done, we were friends. I couldn’t lose her too. I had lost too much already. “Will there be other stipulations or penalties?”

  “The punishment for summoning is six months imprisonment,” the right-hand dame informed me. “She must pay the tithe and serve her time.”

  “If she is unable to pay the tithe at the end of six months,” the left-hand matron continued, “her bond will be made available for purchase. She will remain a detainee of the Society until her debts are absolved.”

  “Ms. Madison has been disowned. There’s no hope of her paying the tithe. Let’s not pretend otherwise.” Linus folded his hands behind his back. “She has no priors, her record is spotless, and she has pursued an education tailored to providing valuable services to our community. All things considered, I propose a lucrative compromise that will please us all.”

  His mother watched him with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m listening.”

  “Grier is also a victim,” he reminded the room, “and she is owed reparations for the grievous injury she sustained helping me contain Ambrose when the Elite failed in their duties.”

  A low sound, too fierce to be a mere growl, drew my eye toward Boaz, who still cradled Amelie.

  Who had earned that fury? Ambrose for hurting me, Linus for exposing Amelie, or himself for what he saw as a failure to protect both of us?

  A tittering debate rippled through the amphitheater before the Grande Dame asked, “What is it you propose?”

  “Grier is in the process of rebuilding her household. She has no employees to help her manage her finances or her property.” The High Society gawkers each gasped at my wretched living conditions. “I ask the assembly to consider allowing an advance sale of Ms. Madison’s bond. Grier has already mentioned her willingness to pay the tithe, and she could use someone with Ms. Madison’s skills to advise her. She was just reinstated, after all, and her inheritance requires routine maintenance.”

  Her nails started tap-tap-tapping. “And the mandatory prison sentence?”

  “Allow Ms. Madison to serve the time under house arrest at Woolworth House.”

  “That’s quite a large favor to ask,” she mused. “What guarantee do we have she won’t escape?”

  The concern was me allowing her to run. That much didn’t have to be spelled out for me.

  “I will bind her myself.” He cut his eyes toward me, and they belonged to a savvy businessman making a deal, not a friend striving to save another person from hurt. “For an additional fee, of course.”

  There was no hesitation on my part. “I agree to pay the fee.”

  “You haven’t asked what it is yet.” The Grande Dame chuckled. “Be careful you don’t go too far in debt.”

  “I trust Linus to be fair.” As I said it, I realized it was true. I did trust him. At least this much.

  “The deal is struck,” he murmured to me before turning to the Grande Dame. “Mother?”

  With a put-upon sigh, she conferred with her advisors. There was much whispering and nodding, a few head shakes and some laughter. But at last the three women straightened in their chairs. “It is the decision of this assembly that Grier Woolworth be allowed to pay the tithe for Amelie Madison. It is also the decision of this assembly that Amelie Madison be allowed to spend her six months of confinement within Woolworth House as penance for the crimes committed against Grier Woolworth.”

  In the aftermath, I was too afraid to glance at Boaz. He hated the High Society. This added more fuel for the fire. I couldn’t check on Amelie without risking his reaction, so I examined Linus instead. His hands were still pinned at the small of his back, his expression bored, but his knuckles were white, and his nails bit into his palms.

  “Ms. Madison will be released into my son’s custody as soon as we receive confirmation the tithe has been paid.” The Grande Dame rose, and her advisors stood in tandem a moment later. “Now if you will all excuse me, there are other pressing matters that require my attention.”

  Yet another trap clamped shut, this time around the master vampires the Grande Dame had lured into the Lyceum with the promise of justice for their clanmates. Through their greed, she had captured six additional sources of information on the whereabouts and identity of the Master.

  The gratitude I ought to have felt never manifested. The cost for this intel had been far too high.

  Mr. Hacohen appeared in the vacuum left by their exit like a magician and whisked me away to a private conference room to do the necessary paperwork. A half hour later, I was the proud owner of Amelie’s indenture. Except pride wasn’t what I was feeling, not at all. The roiling in my gut kept churning over how simple the transaction had been. Until tonight, I hadn’t known purchasing bonds was a thing the Society allowed. Na�
�ve of me, I know, considering how it was a means of recouping costs, and they worshipped at the altar of the almighty dollar.

  Linus waited for me in the hall, and Mr. Hacohen left me with him while he went to file the paperwork.

  “I can’t decide if I’m mad at you,” I told him. “I want to be, I should be, but you saved her.”

  “I wanted to tell you. Everything. I didn’t agree with the decision to keep you in the dark, but I understand why it was made.” He mashed his lips together. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I need to think about who you are, and which Linus is the real one. Growing up the way we did, the way you did, I understand you needed to build yourself armor, but it fits you too well.” The Linus from the Lyceum snugged him like a second skin, but then again, he wore so many faces and with such ease. “I can’t see the real you between the seams when you’re suited up, and that worries me.”

  “I understand.” He hesitated a moment. “I told Mother I would bind Amelie to your property.”

  “Yes, you did.” A prickle of irritation worked its way to the surface. “I wish I had been in a position to decline.”

  He nodded as though he’d expected as much. “I told her I would do it, not when.”

  There was a clicking sound as my jaw opened and then shut. “W-what?”

  “I didn’t tell her when I would perform the binding. I might wait until we’re in our three hundreds.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t mention what I would bind her to, either. Property has a broader meaning than land. I might choose to tie her to a toaster on your counter or a pencil she can carry in her pocket.”

  “I made up my mind.” I launched myself at him, trapping his arms against his sides, and squeezed until he grunted. “I’m not mad at you. I might still have to dealphabetize your library to get you back one day, but right now, we’re square.”

  “Your early-warning system is broken,” he deadpanned.

  “I’m a hugger.” More these days than ever now that I was starting to reacclimate. The thing about love is, when you’re raised with an excess, the overflow splashes onto those around you. Not even Atramentous had broken that part of me. “You’ll get used to it.”

  His heart beat fast beneath my cheek, and his breaths quickened. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Grier.”

  The sound of my name spoken in Boaz’s tired voice sent my eyelids crushing shut on a soundless groan. I hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but I could imagine how it looked finding us embracing in a dark hall. What concerned me most wasn’t that he would assume it was anything romantic. What had my heart twisting was fear this might read more like collusion than a release of tension.

  Boaz’s gaze skipped over me and landed on Linus, but no spark of jealous temper ignited. There was no light there at all. This close, I could tell he hadn’t thawed from that numb place where he had lingered since finding Amelie.

  “The Grande Dame sent me to collect you,” he said formally. “They’re ready to release Amelie.”

  “Hey.” I freed Linus and trotted over to Boaz. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

  “Mind?” Boaz shook his head, and his eyes cleared a fraction. “Why would you have to ask?”

  The list was so long I couldn’t see the top to find where to even start. “Let’s go get our girl.”

  I slid my hand into his and guided him down the hall, checking over my shoulder to make sure Linus followed. We entered the amphitheater as the sentinel in charge of Amelie unlocked her manacles. The chains clanked onto the floor, and he kicked them aside before he knelt in front of her to attach a thick metal cuff around her ankle. The whiff of blood and pennies on the air told me the sigils within it had been activated.

  “What does it do?” I asked the sentinel. “Will it hurt her?”

  “So long as she behaves, she’ll forget it’s there.” He coiled the chains around his arm then stood. “These sigils are like boomerangs. Whatever she tosses out, physically or magically speaking, comes back at her. She can’t hurt you or anyone else without feeling that pain tenfold.”

  Beneath my hand, Boaz’s fingers twitched in the promise of a tight fist. I worked out the worst of the tension with my thumbs, silently urging him to let this be over and done, to let us all go home. He must have received the message. His palm relaxed, and he brought my hand to his lips for a long minute.

  Amelie was a statue rooted to the marble. Boaz released me then crossed to his sister and slung his arm around her shoulders. He guided her out of the Lyceum while Linus and I kept a respectful distance. They rode the elevator up together, and I waited until Linus and I stood in the booth before asking the next hard question.

  “What happens to Ambrose?” I wrapped my arms around myself. “He’s still in there, right?”

  “He is.” His smile was sad, like he’d hoped I might somehow forget that part. “You can’t separate the two without performing an exorcism. Ambrose is too fat on his kills to go willingly. It would kill her prying him out right now.”

  “He won’t stop killing.” He couldn’t if he wanted to live. “How do we control him?”

  “I’m going to tattoo a containment ward on Amelie. It won’t last forever, but it should subdue Ambrose for a few months. It will buy us time for him to weaken before we take the next steps.”

  “What is it?” I shivered under his regard. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Lots of things, I imagine.” He lightened the comment with a smile that didn’t sit right on his mouth. “What happened on the Cora Ann wasn’t what the ward you copied was designed to do. It should have contained Ambrose, and it did, but it also ripped Amelie out of him. He never would have relinquished his hold on her, not when he was strong enough to fight.”

  In the silence that followed, I got the feeling he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard him ask.

  “You want me to…what?” I rubbed my arms. “I can’t tattoo her. I don’t know how.”

  “All you have to do is draw what I show you,” he promised. “I’ll copy your design onto transfer paper, apply it, and tattoo her using a special ink blend that helps with suppression.”

  I nodded reluctant agreement then followed Linus out of the elevator and into the night. I smelled pizza before I spotted our ride. Boaz was eyeing the driver with suspicion, so I went to smooth things over with him. I made it halfway before noticing Linus hadn’t followed. “You’re not coming?”

  “Not this time.” He flicked a glance at Boaz. “Here. Take this for the ride home.”

  “Put it on my tab.” I grudgingly accepted the fifty he passed me. “How are you getting home?”

  The red Continental glided into sight as he scanned the curb. “I made other arrangements.”

  On some unspoken signal, Cletus made his presence known, swaying between Linus and me, and I snapped my fingers. “It was you.”

  Linus raised an eyebrow and waited to hear my latest accusation. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Those nights when Cletus lingered at the Cora Ann. It was because you were onboard, hunting.”

  “Yes.” That was all he said, no specifics, and I itched to press him for details. “We’ll continue this later.”

  Later wasn’t never, so I was satisfied as he headed for his ride, and me for mine.

  After dusting fries off the seat beside Pizza Dude, I sat and passed him his tip. Boaz and Amelie settled on the bench together in the back, her curled against his side, silent tears streaking her cheeks. Only in the aftermath of my whirlwind decisions did I start wondering if I’d made a huge mistake in binding her to me.

  Boaz was the type of man who would use a rusty saw to hack off his own foot before wearing a cuff that controlled him. That was what made him a bad bet romantically. He might accept a collar for a little while, but eventually he would gnaw through any leash.

  Amelie had already shown me her teeth, and now I had backed her into a corner then cla
mped on a choke chain.

  May the goddess be merciful.

  Eighteen

  Juicing up the wards and expanding Woolly’s consciousness had seemed like a stellar idea at the time, but I was starting to regret my urgency in forcing those repairs. Woolly, who had been told a sanitized version of the events aboard the Cora Ann, had touched my mind during my earlier pit stop home and read Amelie’s guilt for my injuries.

  Amelie was officially persona non grata as far as the old house was concerned.

  While I paced the foyer, attempting to convince my house to grant Amelie sanctuary, Linus prepared his workstation in the carriage house. Woolly loved Amelie, but Amelie didn’t taste much like Amelie to Woolly’s new wards, and she had hurt me.

  That was Woolly’s line in the sand. Amelie had hurt me. Therefore, Amelie was bad.

  The majority of her overprotectiveness sprung from guilt. Some of it over Maud. Most of it over Volkov.

  I was so very tired of being the weak link.

  Amelie was not alone in her ostracism. Woolly had nothing to say to Boaz, either. She allowed him to enter the house, she permitted him to plead his sister’s case, but she remained unmoved by his argument. Even Keet turned away when Boaz offered to scratch his earholes.

  Too bad Odette had slipped away while we were gone. She might have helped me convince Woolly, assuming they had made their peace. Without her calming influence, that left the two of us standing in the living room without many options.

  “There are two bedrooms in the carriage house,” I said at last. “Amelie could room with Linus.”

  “Hunger for power got her into this mess,” Boaz countered. “If aversion therapy was going to work, it would have by now. She’s been your friend for years.” He cut me a look. “Amelie won’t have much of a reputation after this, but I don’t want how she lived with Linus while working off her debt to be one of the things she’s remembered for.”

  The blood rushed from my cheeks, and I nodded. “I don’t want that for her, either.”