Page 6 of How to Woo the Undead

Sebastian chortled, “Well, she’s mostly dead. She’ll be mostly alive shortly, my love.”

“Hush, you!”

Hyacinth watched the woman in black slap at the man’s chest. Only to lean in close to him and press her lips to the side of his mask. Hyacinth floated in and out of her body, if it weren’t for the little whispered chant in her mind, she’d probably float off. Her gaze ran along the length of the hall, studying the house. A dark mansion full of floating wisps and dust particles in the air. Little candles illuminated the house in small bulbs of warmth. Shadows lurked, slinking out of her view. Hyacinth followed a few, finding them forming into things just a few feet later. Little creatures with wide eyes that reflected the light at her before they quickly scurried away. She listened to their little claws skittering on the hardwood.

Breathe!

Hyacinth sucked in air sharply.

“Oh, poor thing,” Sebastian cooed beside her. “Dahlia, would you accompany her to the kitchen? I think I need to brew another undeath potion. And nothing but bone broth! I’m serious, Dahlia.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, Sebastian Rosemont!”

Hyacinth turned enough to catch the movement of her maker. He removed his mask to kiss the woman in black firm on the lips. It was through them, however, that Hyacinth saw someone else. Down at the other end of the hall, drenched in darkness, was a person. Long hair that swayed in a breeze Hyacinth couldn’t feel, with hands out at her side, the shadow’s fingers were all snapped in the wrong direction. Hyacinth lurched backward as the shadow broke apart at multiple places, dropping into a low squat. The candles at the other end of the hall weren’t big enough to break through the ink the shadow was cloaked in. However, the closer the shadow lumbered, all broken bones and wrong angles, the more Hyacinth realized the shadow was shapedjust like her.

“Ready?”

Dahlia crossed her vision, and when Hyacinth shifted to look, the shadow was gone. Just another endless hall of bobbing candlelight. Hyacinth furrowed her brows at the weird, tingling sensation in her stomach. It clenched up tight so that when she put a hand against it, the skin felt taut. Hard.Unhappy. Dahlia reached down with Hyacinth and pressed her palm against the dead woman’s stomach. If Hyacinth was unsure before, Dahlia confirmed it. Her body was still in need of healing.Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Swallow.Itchy. Every inch of her was itchy and shedesperatelywanted to rake her fingernails over the scabs on her back where her wings protruded from her.

“Hmm, maybe Sebastian has a point.”

“Ido have thosefrom time to time, thank you!”

“Oh hush! Aren’t you supposed to be brewing a potion?”

“Bah!”

Dahlia chuckled at Hyacinth’s side, tugging on her arm as tenderly as possible. Hyacinth let the woman in black lead her away from the stairs.Left foot. Right foot. Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Swallow.Then, out of nowhere, Hyacinth croaked, “You kissed my maker?”

“Hmm?” Dahlia’s hum seemed distracted. Then steel-colored eyes blinked rapidly in the candlelight as she turned to observe Hyacinth. “Oh, I did. Is that how you think of him? As your maker?”

“He made me.” Hyacinth shrugged involuntarily, her body knowing what it wanted to do. It wasn’t one of her conscious commands. Sebastian had said that her body knew a lot of what to do, so that she could count on it to do things involuntarily. She knew things she shouldn’t know having onlyjustbeen made. And yet, she was already aware of names of things.

“That’s understandable,” Dahlia sighed softly, looking down to where Hyacinth leveraged her hold on the woman in black’s arm to ease her walk. Her legs were trembling underneath the fabric Sebastian put her in. Muscles aching and body tired, she was happy to find they stepped into a kitchen only moments later. “Why don’t you sit and get comfortable? I’ll get that bone broth.”

Lights steadily bloomed in the kitchen. The large chandelier full of pots and pans glowed with a brighter, yellow light before the gas lamps on the walls hissed to life. With a crackle, the stove was on and Hyacinth was in a world of sound. Licking her dehydrated lips for the umpteenth time with a sandpaper tongue, she scanned the room in awe.Simply trying to absorb itall.A massive kitchen full of tile flooring, hardwood table covered in grooves, andthings. So many things. It was nearly overwhelming. There were stacked wares in a glass cabinet, teacups dangling from hooks, and she liked the plump fridge that made the room chilly as Dahlia dug through it.

“My lady, can I help you…oh!”

Hyacinth watched a woman form out of the shadows like she was made of them. Unlike the broken thing in the front hall, this woman was beautiful. Round face, slightly upturned nose, hair that floated over her head, a long dress with ruffles and bell sleeves that danced around her nearly opaque hands.She’s partially see-through.Hyacinth wasn’t sure what to call the woman with long daggers for fingers that floated out into the middle of the room.No feet! She doesn’t walk. Lucky.Walking was exhausting, and yet this woman, so effortlessly, floated.

“Hello, new friend, who are you?”

“Hyacinth,” she croaked through her dry throat.

“Oh, let me help with that.”

“I’m making her bone broth. Will you make her tea for her throat, Agatha. I swear, the boys know how to bring a person to life but not how to help them live! She’s nothing but skin and bones! And I can’t even put meat on her bones!” Dahlia’s grumbles from the fridge circled Hyacinth as she sank down into a seat by the table.

“I have hair,” Hyacinth wheezed but her voice was so quiet and soft, neither of the women at the counter opposite her could hear her.I’m not JUST skin and bones. I believe he made me with muscles too. I can feel them, they’re exhausted—blink!She blinked hard and grumbled to herself.Blink. Inhale. Exhale. Swallow.Hyacinth focused on her functions and the trinkets in the room. She enjoyed more of the strange objects in every corner.

“There we go, a cup of tea with lemon for that dry throat—” The ghostly woman named Agatha stopped, mid-bob in the air, as Hyacinth took the steaming mug and downed the entire thing in one gulp.

“Much better.” Hyacinth sighed dreamily.

“That was boiling water,” Agatha murmured, eyebrows in her dancing hair line.

“Does that mean Ishouldn’thave drank it?” Hyacinth grimaced, looking down to the string dangling from her lips. She tugged on it, only to feel something thick and heavy dragging along the back of her tongue. With a shiver and a swallow, the string disappeared behind her teeth. The lump fell down into her stomach and she felt it the whole way down.