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“Good. That’s what they’re for,” I said with a bright smile. Clark had made me special waffles full of power and energy so I could recover? Of course he had. He expected a big, horrible attack to come that he didn’t want me to know about. It’s like he was incapable of being honest.

She shifted uneasily. “What do you want me to teach you?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t got the slightest idea how magic works. I’ve been reading the necromancy book, but I don’t know Latin, and that seems to be the biggest part of it.”

She stared at me like I was an alien. “You don’t know Latin? How could you raise a cemetery without Latin?”

“I have no idea. How do you think I did it?” I took the plate and held it out to Ray where he lurked near the door. “Will you take this into the kitchen?”

He took the plate but shook his head. “I don’t think you should be alone together yet.”

“Do you think I’ll hurt her, or she’ll hurt me?” I asked, my feelings twinging, that he’d think I’d accidentally do something to her when she was so weak and vulnerable.

Scilla shook her head, looking intently at Ray. She grabbed the fork off the plate and ripped a tine down her forearm so blood welled up.

“I swear myself to Hoar House and the new heir,” she solemnly decreed.

A flash of lightning outside and a crack of thunder made the oath take on new significance. Then she collapsed in a pile on the floor.

eighteen

. . .

Ray put Scilla to bed, while I paced the front hall, past the bear that sometimes tracked me with his undead eyes.

Clark thought there was some big attack on its way. He was the Council’s Teeth, but surely there were other parts of it that were terrifying. Plus his enemies? Plus his ex-fiancée and his sister and probably everyone who wanted a piece of the Hoar heir before she figured out her crap. That was me. Raising the dead was so much crap, but what was I supposed to do about it? I really had no idea. Which was the entire problem. I had no idea. I needed to do something about that. Right after I dealt with the kids’ schools to get all the necessary homework for the next month in case we were stuck here for that long.

I went to the library and grabbed the now three books on Necromancy on the shelf and took them to the table where I studied while the kids did their schoolwork. When the boys finished, I stayed there with Sage and Donny, who managed to explain geometry to her in a way that almost made sense. More sense than raising the dead. And laying them to rest. That’s what I focused on, because one thing at a time.

For dinner, I made a nice roasted chicken and vegetables with a side of spring salad then went back to my books.

I studied until the words swam. I used the English translation app on my phone and memorized Latin words I didn’t know how to pronounce. Donny helped me with that. He was an excellent tutor. Pity he didn’t know how to raise the dead.

By the time I stumbled to bed, my head was filled with jumbled up incantations that didn’t make any sense. Like my entire life didn’t make sense. And my husband was sitting outside in the rain preparing for a great battle instead of warming my bed and telling me how much he loved me.

I fell asleep and dreamed about raising a cemetery of monsters, but they weren’t just bones. There were these zombies dripping melting flesh all over the place, and vampires with sharp teeth and white faces. And bears. So many bears with rotting flesh full of Jerome’s bugs.

I flung my hand out in my sleep, searching for my warm, safe husband, when my hand found fur.

It took me a second to remember that I had a stalker undead grizzly bear, but he wasn’t snuffling. No, he was still as stone. I patted it awkwardly while I tried to stay calm. I didn’t like having undead bears in my bed.

“House, can you turn on the light?” I said.

Immediately a light came on, five candles floating around the bed, which wasn’t what I’d thought the house would do, but whatever. The real problem was the enormous tiger in my bed. It blinked yellow, subtly glowing eyes at me, and then made this sound, a rumbling purr that went into my bones like iced daggers of terror.

I started shivering and shaking, but I didn’t run. I didn’t want this monster to chase after me like the bear had. I slowly eased out of bed without taking my eyes off the beast. It was so big. Taller than me stretched out on the bed, and its orange and black stripes were unmistakably horrifying.

I swallowed hard. “Hi! I’m the heir to Hoar House! And you’re a new friend that’s come to stay with us! Why don’t I show you a better place to protect the house than my bed, okay?” My voice wasn’t great, more croaky than confident.

I backed away from the bed, towards the door, and he followed, dropping onto the floor as smoothly and elegantly as an actual tiger would’ve done. Was it a real tiger? Would that be better or worse than an undead magical construct? I couldn’t decide.

I made it to the door then opened it, backing slowly down the hall to the curving stairs. I kept backing, and it kept following, languid, nonchalant, and so, so deadly. When I reached the front hall, I backed until I got to the grizzly bear.

“So, this is Mortimer the bear. And you are…”

“Thomas,” the tiger said.

I flinched back, falling into the bear, which would’ve knocked us both into the wall, but the bear caught me with his enormous paws and helped me stand upright.