Page 83 of How to Woo the Undead

“What cha’ makin’?” Melody plopped her backside onto one of the nearby counters.

“Snack and hot cocoa.” He beamed up at her. “I can make some extra if you two want some.”

“Mmm, post-coital snacks. Superb decision.” Melody shimmied her shoulders at him.

“Melody!” Smith huffed.

“No, she’s right,” Austin laughed. Melody threw up her palm to which Austin high fived. Much to Smith’s dismay. He shook his head with a loud groan. While the lich’s assistant worked on stirring up the perfect cup of cocoa to go with the board of crackers, meats, and cheese’s he’d spread out, the other two lingered by his side. “Everyone in this house is a snack fiend.”

“And Hyacinth would tell you fiends are particularly snackish,” Smith corrected with a finger jabbed in the air.

“Would she?” Melody scoffed, furrowing her brows. “How would she know that.”

“Everyone knows fiends are more inclined to sweet treats.” Smith shrugged.

“I didn’t,” Austin and Melody blurted out at the same time.

“Well…you would—look!” Smith propped his hands up on his hips. “I am comfortable with talking about sex with Melody, but if you wish to wax poetic about coital relations, you’re better off asking Sebastian.”

“Once he wakes up,” Austin murmured. The whole kitchen fell quiet as he blew out the stove’s flame. For a moment, they were enveloped in darkness until the candles overhead hissed to life. Austin avoided their gazes as he poured the hot chocolate into the prepared mugs. He’d drizzled fudge around the rim and had the whipped cream ready to dollop on top.

The distinct feeling they wanted to bring something up occurred to him. Like a tingle up his spine, or the pressure of eyes on the side of his head. He glanced at them, knowing exactly what they wanted to talk about.

“I know I scared you all,” he sighed.

“You both did,” Smith whispered, tucking himself into the crook of the counter. His back to the racks of spices, arms folded over his thin chest, his head turned down as if his eyes were downcast. “Austin, what were you thinking?”

He opened his mouth but only a squeak came out of his throat.

“He was trying to save her,” Melody answered as she prodded Smith with her foot. “Don’t you see, she was in danger. And Austin’s the big, strong defender. He didn’t even blink when it came to taking the pyre for her.”

“Yes, well…” Smith’s teeth clicked together, making a sharp snapping sound.

“Well, nothing,” Melody harrumphed. “Don’t act likeyou—”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what it’s like to have a person I love give up their life?” Smith snapped so sharply Austin felt the welts form on his back even though the lashing was for Melody.

“Smith,” Melody and Austin whimpered at different levels of hurt.

“Do not ‘Smith’ me!” Smith slapped his arms down by his side. “Austin, you knew the risks of leaving this house. Knew what could happen. What they would do. Youof all people knew.”

Austin’s gaze fell to the cocoa, watching the steam dance overtop of it.He’s right.Of anyone, Austin knew best what those clerics would do. He knew reasoning with Marquis was a fool’s errand. And yet he did it anyway, because that’s all he knew how to do. Austin was good at being strong, at being friendly, at being helpful, and at talking to people. That’s how Sebastian raised him to be. That’s who he wanted to be at his core, not just the protector of the house but one whose skill is being good with people. Smith was a lawyer: he knew laws, codes, and rules. Sebastian was a lich: he knew magic, history, religions, power. Havershum was a master at hunting. Agatha was a master at sewing, at cleaning, of knowing what to say or make to bring a smile to someone’s face.

What was he?

He was Austin Rosemont. The Lich’s assistant. Muscle and sunshine and hope.

“It was worth risking my life if it meant she might get away. And I’d do it again without question,” Austin confessed with a weary smile on his lips. His tusks poked at his cheeks. “I am sorry, Smith.”

“I know, big guy,” Smith exhaled heavily, hands to his slender hips. “I know.”

“And you don’t have to forgiveme—”

“Just,” Smith interjected, stepping up in front of Austin. He wrapped his hand around Austin’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t get yourself killed a second time, alright? I don’t ever want to worry about losing you ever again. You got it?”

“Are you making me pinkie promise right now?” Austin raised a brow.

Smith slapped him upside the back of the head.