Page 5 of How to Woo the Undead

“Yes,” Smith snorted before straightening at the horrified shift on Austin’s face. “Oh! No, big guy, you can’t think like that.”

“I scared her,” Austin croaked.

“You’re not even all that scary looking, Austin. Please. You’re the most handsome guy in the house.” Smith swatted at his arm with a flop of his hand. “Remember, you’re a hunk.”

Austin wanted to enjoy the compliment. He did. But all he could remember was the poor coffee cart kid who saw him years ago, walking Lady Rosemont to the bank. How the teen trembled in fear, eyebrows up into their hairline. How, the last time they went to the city, Austin pretended not to notice people scurrying away from him as he walked down the sidewalk.

It's the skin; I’m off-putting. No, it’s the stitches, I’m visibly undead. Or maybe it’s the size—yeah, it’s gotta be the size.What’s a guy to do when he’s a lean, mean, hulking machine?

“I’m amonster,” Austin whispered his confession like it took the last drop of air in his lungs to say it.I am a monster and I am falling apart at the seams.Austin scrunched away from Smith in attempt to make himself smaller but all it did was cause his shoulders to clip the worktable and it groaned as the metal dented slightly. Smith climbed to his feet, fixing the metal with a zap of his hand to the top. When he crouched down beside the sulking man, he did so with his hands knotted up in front of him.

“Hey, big guy, look at me.” Smith’s voice was soft, barely audible but in the empty laboratory, it echoed off all the walls. Austin glanced up from his fingers, a deep frown still embedded on his face. When he did, Smith put a hand on his shoulder. “You’renota monster, and anyone whose made you feel that way is not to be trusted. You’re mybestfriend, alright? Could a monster stay up with me for days to study for law exams? Or help convince squirrels to eat out of the palm of their hands during a brutal winter? Or hold Aggy when she’s frightened during storms, huh? You think a monster could do all that?”

Austin chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

“You guessright,my friend! And I would know.”

“Cause you’re a lawyer?”

“No, because I’m always right…don’t tell Melody I said that.”

Austin snorted. “Did you pinkie promise to be more humble?”

Smith scoffed, twisting away from Austin. “No! I simply insinuated that Iwashumble enough and she laughed in my face. So, therefore, I am trying to prove it to my beloved werewolf. But, there is being humble and then there are the facts.”

Austin rolled his eyes, nodding along as Smith rambled more. The lawyer spoke with his elongated fingers as he strode away from the worktable. Austin followed him, but his eyes kept roaming back to the slab. The one at the far end where she’d been stitched back together, where she’d blinked for the first time, and where she’d screamed in his face.

If I am not a monster, why does this weight in my chest persist? If I am not broken, why do I feel as though I am coming apart at the seams?

Austin wanted to ask Smith or even Sebastian, but there would be no actual talk with them. Smith would immediately try to cheer Austin up instead of letting him speak to the pain that radiated through his chest. Lord Rosemont would tell him it was okay, that he wasn’t to blame, but Austin wasn’t just a monster because he scared the dead woman from the woods.

Austin failed at his key objective.My purpose.He was Lord Rosemont’s right hand. Muscle when needed, protection and insurance that things never went awry. If The Hungry One turning him to a pile of pieces in the front yard wasn’t bad enough…two years ago, when the vampiress Elyth Rosemont descended upon the house, he did nothing to defend his home. It wasn’t one but two prolonged examples that Austin was a mistake.

A failure who couldn’t even follow a simple rule:

Protect this house, Austin, from all whom would harm it.

Chapter Three:

Hyacinth

“Hello?”Awomanwithplatinum blonde hair stopped in the middle of the hall, pausing on the black rug to stare at Hyacinth. The dead woman swallowed over a dry throat, unsure of what to say or how to speak what pressed against her itchy tongue. The steel-colored orbs that studied her widened before darting to the bird masked man on her arm. “Who is this, Sebastian?”

“This is Hyacinth. Say hello, little one.”

“Hello.” Hyacinth, upon command, let the air trickle up her throat and out her mouth. She could pinpoint that the struggle came from her lungs. They were shriveled and dehydrated. Licking cracked lips, she did her best to speak again and nothing else came out. Between the effort of walking down the hall, to the steps, her functions were mostly focused on her movement.Left foot. Right foot. Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Left foot.All until her maker stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Dahlia, my love, would you put some bone broth on?”

“Sebastian.” There was a warning in the voice from the woman in all black. Hyacinth memorized her from the high lace collar down to the satin that licked across the carpet as she approached. Hyacinth liked how she moved like a shadow, effortless and smooth. Dahlia stepped in front of Hyacinth, awarm palm to her cheek and bringing the dead woman’s gaze up. “She needs to eat.”

“Her stomach is not strong enough yet. Nor is stressing out her face muscles worth it. Bone broth, please.”

“Will that be enough? What if I also make oatmeal? Really,reallymushy oatmeal?”

“My love,” Sebastian chuckled, the beak of his mask denting inward. Hyacinth stared through the rivets in it to find flashes of green skin and bone behind it.Blink! BLINK!She forced her eyes to dislodge her attention from him in order to blink. It made her eyeballs hot and itchy if she didn’t remember to do that. “I promise, she’ll have a robust appetite soon. But warm bone broth first.”

“She looks half dead!” Dahlia huffed.