A hint of a mordant smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. "I didn't think you would."
"Then why did you offer?"
"I wanted to know what you would say. I'm trying to learn more about you."
She spread her arms. "What you see is what you get."
His eyes sparked with green. "Is that a promise?"
God damn him. "I meant that I have no big secrets. Unlike you. Why are you shopping for a bride in the Edge?"
"I'll be thirty in a month. The covenant of our title requires me to marry before I turn thirty, or I won't inherit the domain."
"That's a bit ridiculous."
He nodded. "On that we're in complete agreement."
"So what prevented you from getting married in the Weird?"
"I'm afraid my reputation among my peers has been somewhat tarnished." He walked up the porch and held the door open for her.
"Why?"
"It became known that I had a rather fertile imagination, when it came to private activities."
She stared at him. "What sort of private activities?"
This time he did smile, and it turned his face wicked. "Disrobe, and I'll be happy to demonstrate."
Chapter 11
IT took Rose a good half hour to get rid of Declan. She'd keyed the ward to him, and finally he'd left to get the rest of his supplies. She waited for about five minutes, grabbed the wheelbarrow, and drove the body of the dead hound to Grandma's. If they could figure out what it was or where it had come from, they could find a way to fight it.
The wheel stuck on some random rock. The acrid stench rising from the carcass would've made even Grandpa Cletus vomit. Rose thought she would be used to it by now, but no, after a third of a mile, she could still smell the dead bugger.
Rose cursed at the wheelbarrow, gritted her teeth, and forced it through the trellis shrouded in tiny pink roses into her grandmother's yard. She took a deep breath and pushed it back behind the house, out of sight, and threw a tarp over it just in case.
Grandma ElEonore was in the kitchen, drinking tea. "I heard you lost your job," she said the second Rose stepped into the kitchen.
Oh, for the love of God . . .
"And I hear you have a fellow staying with you. According to Marlene, who heard it from Geraldine Asper, who heard it directly from Elsie Moore, he's some sort of a looker."
"He's just a boarder." Rose went to the sink and scrubbed her hands with soap. The last thing she needed now was a lecture on the terrible dangers of letting bluebloods into the house. "Just a bit of money to tide us over."
She hoped and prayed that once the looker fetched his possessions, he'd stay at the house and not go searching for her. Having him turn up on Grandma's doorstep would mean nothing but trouble.
"According to the hooligans, this boarder has a huge sword."
Rose rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "What else did they tell you?"
"Not much. They've been very closemouthed about it. Not at all like them. Is he handsome?"
"He is."
"It isn't William, is it?"
"No," Rose sighed, dropping into a chair and reaching for the spare cup.
Above them the ceiling shook with quick thumps. The kids were playing in the attic again. "What did you learn at Adele's?"
"Oh, this and that. Lots of gossip. Paula's expecting twins. They aren't her husband's, and when he finds out, there'll be hell to pay. Some other things." Grandma looked away.
"What else?"
Grandma heaved a sigh. "Dogs have been disappearing. Seth Hines has gone into the Broken. Took his wife and son with him and left pretty much everything behind. His sister got ahold of him, but he won't talk. She got very little out of him. He'd told her they'd been attacked by something, some strange creatures. Oh, and he claims a blueblood rescued them. Because that's just what we need, nobles from the Weird."
Yes, they definitely didn't need any more of those. Rose wiped her hands on a towel. It had to be Declan, of course. Who else? "I think I've got one of those creatures in a wheelbarrow at the back porch."
Grandma ElEonore rose. "Let's see it."
They stepped out onto the back porch. Rose drew the tarp aside. ElEonore brushed the tips of her fingers across the creature's hide, leaned close, until her nose almost touched it, sniffed the charred hide, and straightened.
"What is it?" Rose asked.
ElEonore's forehead wrinkled. "I don't know," she said softly. "Let's brew some tea and find out."
GRANDMA ElEonore picked up a piece of white chalk and drew a compass rose on the surface of the table with brisk practiced movements. Georgie stood by the table, transfixed. Jack scooted on his chair, holding his hands together, as if in prayer.
Rose placed a fat candle at tramontane, the "north" point, and lit it. The tiny blade of the flame danced on the wick. A cube of ice graced levante, the "east." Rose added a chunk of granite at the ostro, "south," and looked at Jack.
"Now?" he asked.
"Now."
Jack opened his hands and dropped a fat green caterpillar onto the table. Rose nudged it onto ponente, the "west," and spat on it. The caterpillar squirmed, but remained put, pinned by the small charge of magic.
This was the old familiar Edge magic. Not flashy or scientific, but the simple earthy kind that worked. Declan would sneer at it, just like all of his lofty friends would sneer at her if she ever left with him. That was fine. She had nothing to prove to him and no intention to give up her freedom. No matter how he looked at her.
Grandma ElEonore snapped a small ziplock bag open and dropped a sliver of the beast's flesh into the center of the rose. The stench nipped at the inside of Rose's nostrils. She grimaced and turned away to gulp some untainted air.
"Why does it stink so bad?" Jack clamped his nose shut.
"We don't know." Grandma ElEonore motioned them to the table. "Hold hands."
They stood around the table, holding hands.
"Concentrate on the flesh." Grandma ElEonore took a deep breath and began to chant.
"All that is from all that was, return to your root, obey my words. All that is from all that was, return to your root, obey my words . . ."
The magic streamed from them, locking onto the odorous chunk. A thin puddle of water spread from under the ice cube, forming a perfect circle. The hunk of granite shuddered, little flecks of quartz glistening. The flame of the candle grew to two inches. The caterpillar writhed.
The flesh in the center refused to move.