How to Save an Undead Life (Beginner's Guide to Necromancy #1)

Used to the routine by now, I lifted my arms, and she scooped me against her chest and carried me to my seat. Any humiliation I’d once felt about being toted around had burned out long ago.

“I’ll be right inside if you need me,” she assured me.

“Thanks, Lena.”

Deciding what to eat and how much was like playing Russian roulette. Breakfast and lunch never left me zoned out like dinner, so I figured it was safe to pick at the mixed fruits. I got most of the strawberries down before pushing away my plate. The water tasted fine, but I sipped all the same.

I was staring at the seashell pressed into the concrete when Lena came for what I called a pulse check.

“You didn’t eat much.” Lena examined the leftovers. “Was the fruit not to your liking?”

“I keep thinking about what you said earlier.” I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I’m nervous about meeting the master.” I ducked my head. “And about what’s in that ring box.”

“Ariana has the patience of a saint,” she swore. “I wouldn’t have been able to resist peeking.”

“Have you put any more thought into what I should wear tomorrow night?”

“I do have some ideas.” She hesitated, uncertain if I actually cared about her opinion. “Would you like me to show you?”

“I want to look my best.” I offered her my hand. “I might need help getting back in bed, though. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She carried me back to bed and propped me up with pillows. “Wait just a tick, and I’ll be right back with my top choices.” Her smile widened. “Then we can talk about accessories.”

“I can’t wait.” I reclined and held my pose until she left then murmured to the empty room, “It’s going to be a long night.”

No curtains rustled, no lights flickered, no swirl of heat embraced me.

I missed Woolly. I missed Amelie. I even missed Boaz, the jerk. And Keet.

With the training Boaz promised, I might have stood a chance against Volkov, but there had been no time. The Grande Dame had underestimated the vampires, how much they knew and the lengths they would go to secure me for their use, and I was paying for her miscalculation now.

I had no allies here, no friends. Trust no one. Believe no one. I had to keep my wits about me.

The only person I could rely on to get me out of this situation was, well, me.

And my sad excuse for an escape plan hinged on dropped hints, sloppy sigils, and the shattered nose from the smashed-in face of a rabbit.



Six rolling garment racks zigzagged across the center of my room. Two were dedicated to pants, three to blouses and one to shawls, jackets, and cardigans. Pushed against the wall were troves of accessories. A shoe cabinet cracked open to showcase everything from sandals to flats to neck-breaker heels. The jewelry chest, which Lena was currently digging through, sparkled like diamonds under the chandelier. Probably due to all the diamond-encrusted diamonds in there.

“What do you think, miss?” Lena held a strand of pearls in each hand, one white and one pink. “The pink is lovely, if you ask me, and it matches the pantsuit you selected.” She tilted her head to one side and then the other. “The white is classic, and it coordinates with those peep-toe flats you liked.”

Like was a strong word for how I felt toward any of her selections. Honestly, I didn’t feel much of anything toward anything these days. “Let’s go with white.”

“All right then.” She draped the modest strand around the neck of the mannequin she’d wheeled into my room, the form molded to my measurements, because that wasn’t disturbing at all, and sighed over the finished product. “How lovely. The master will be so pleased.”

The master could stick those pearls in his pipe and smoke them for all I cared. “What’s on the menu for dinner?”

“I requested something light in case your stomach was still fluttery.” She nudged the mannequin aside. “How does French onion soup with a fresh baguette sound?”

“Delicious.” And difficult to mask the amount of food I wasn’t eating.

“I’ll go fetch your tray.” Lena started wheeling the dummy out with her. “Be back in a jiffy.”

“Can you leave the outfit? Just for now?” Still in bed, I held up my hands and made a frame with my fingers. “There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on…”

Uncertain, Lena stepped back to admire her handiwork. “You might be right, miss.”

“Can I have extra cheese?” I asked to distract her from the mannequin. “Gruyère is one of my favorites.”

“Whatever you like.” Pleasure and relief mingled in her expression. “I’ll be right back.”

I waited until the doors closed then leapt out of bed and dashed for the clothes racks. I dug through every shade of pink known to man before finding one pair of simple, black slacks. I wasn’t as fortunate with the tops. The best I could find was a dusky rose that could pass for brown in low light. The shoe rack was easiest. A pair of black ballet flats had caught my eye first thing. Rushing to the bed with my contraband, I ripped back the sheets then smoothed the clothes across the foot of the bed before climbing in and pulling the covers up to my chest.

Propped up like a princess, I awaited Lena’s return. I didn’t have to wait long.

“Here we are,” she trilled. “I’ll just set you up on the patio and—”

“I didn’t get much sleep after the spider incident. Would it be too much trouble if I took dinner in bed?”

Stepping one foot out of this bed might cost me the outfit and the element of surprise if Lena fell back on her old habits. I couldn’t risk her snooping, so I had to play up her expectations of me.

“You poor dear.” She balanced the tray on the edge of the nightstand, folded down its legs, and placed it over my lap. “You must be exhausted.” She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Would you like to skip your bath?”

“Yes.” I spooned in the first mouthful of soup, pretending to ignore the bitter slide down the back of my throat. “I can wake earlier and bathe before the presentation.”

“An excellent idea,” she agreed, then welcomed two guards into the room to help her trundle all the clothes back up to what she considered my room. “I’ll be right back.”

I spooned in as much as I could stomach without getting too woozy then put my acting chops to the test by reclining against my pillows and shutting my eyes. I kept the spoon threaded between my fingers for added realism, wishing she would let me keep it but knowing she would pry it from my fist.

Wheels squeaked, hangers clacked, and locks snapped into place. Gentle voices told me they’d noticed I’d dropped off and didn’t want to disturb me. Whoever the master was, he had left strict orders for me to be pampered like a princess. One locked in a tower, but a princess all the same.

Warm lips pressed to my forehead, a motherly gesture, reminding me that despite Lena’s appearance, I had no idea of her true age. With practiced ease, she disarmed me and cleared away the dishes. Her soft shoes whispered over the tile, and the door shut on a sigh.

The temptation to nap dragged at me, but I only had one chance to do this before the master returned. Security was insane with me in residence. I didn’t imagine that would change once he arrived. Masters were guarded even closer than heritors. Volkov had two shadows. The master could have six or more trained warriors in his entourage.

An hour passed as best I could tell, and then another. Anticipation itched under my skin, and I was ready for a good scratching. I eased out of bed on unsteady legs, the drugs turning my blood sluggish, and made my way to the patio. After locating the shell, I knelt and retrieved the shard.

“No going back now.” Lena hadn’t scented the bit of extra blood from the tiny sigil last night, but there was no pretending innocence after I made the first cut. “Hecate, be merciful.”

Though the goddess and I weren’t on great terms, she was all the comfort I had in this twisted palace.