The Nerdy Necromancer (The Deadicated Matchmaker Book 1) Read online

I hid my face.

  "Hank," the officer said, and I could practically hear the laughter in his voice.

  "Jimmy," Hank said. I was pleased to note his voice sounded a little bit husky.

  "Looks like you've got your hands full," he said.

  I wanted to groan at the terrible pun, even though technically his hands were no longer full.

  Hank let out a deep breath. "Sorry about that. We got a little bit carried away. We'll leave."

  "Not so fast," Jimmy said. "Who's your lucky friend?"

  He shone the light over and I had no choice but to look at him. Jimmy's eyes widened and he took two full steps away.

  Hank's brows flew together and he looked at me and back at Jimmy. "Is there a problem here?"

  Jimmy sneered. "No problem. Not if you like chicks that play with dead things."

  Full on rage appeared on Hank's face, the likes of which I'd never seen. "I'm sure you'd like to apologize to the lady, Jimmy."

  Jimmy choked on a laugh. "I'm sure I wouldn't. People around the courthouse call her the Corpse Fuc-"

  Hank punched him right through the window. Jimmy went down like a stone.

  "Shit," I whispered. "Shit. Shit. Shit." I gave Hank an anguished stare. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. So so sorry."

  Hank held a hand up. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said practically spitting with anger. He stepped out of his truck and made his way over to the patrol car. Me, not wanting to see what was going to happen next, stayed put, though I did peek out of the cab to make sure Jimmy was still breathing.

  A few minutes later, Hank got back into the truck. "We'll wait for a patrol car to come and pick him up." At my terrified glance, his face softened. "He'll be fine. He isn't human."

  "You knocked him clean out."

  Hank rubbed his knuckles. "I told you. Speed and strength are two of our gifts."

  I fell silent. What could I say to him? I knew he hadn't exactly believed me when I told him about the townsfolk, but maybe now he would.

  "'I'm sorry that happened," he said to me.

  "Don't apologize for punching him."

  His stare was incredulous. "I'm not apologizing for punching him! He deserved it twenty times over. I'm apologizing that he said those things about you!" He rubbed a hand across his mouth. "Geez, Helen. You have to step up and be proud of who you are. People like Jimmy are in the minority, but they can poison the well. He deserved it," he said again. "I'll keep saying it until you believe me." Hank slammed a hand down on his steering wheel. "Plus we were having a pretty amazing makeout session and it got interrupted by that idiot."

  That was true. The unconscious cop lying in the middle of the road put the kibosh on that, though. I blew out a breath and wrapped my arms around myself. “This is really bad.”

  “Jimmy deserved it. I explained what happened over the radio. Don’t worry about it. I have family in the police department.”

  I turned to look at him. “Really?”

  He gave me a sheepish smile. “My father is the sheriff.” Flashing lights pulled up behind us. “I’m sorry you have to meet him this way.”

  Before I could squawk out a response, a voice came out from the loudspeaker on the patrol car. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

  Hank groaned. “My dad is such a drama queen.”

  I put my hands on the dashboard.

  9

  The officer walked up to the vehicle, flicked his flashlight on, and proceeded to blind us both. “Well,” he said. “I heard there was a bit of a scuffle out here tonight.” His flashlight flicked down to highlight the still prone body of Jimmy.

  The officer sighed. “Damn fool.”

  He clicked the brightness down on his light and shone it back on us. His brows beetled together when he saw me, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything about it. Perhaps saving himself the same fate as Jimmy.

  “Hey, Dad,” Hank said.

  His father nodded. “Hank. I suppose you want me to clean this up for you?”

  Hank let out a sigh. “I didn’t even have to call you. I explained what happened. Jimmy deserved that.”

  “Your brother is a right prick sometimes, isn’t he?”

  My eyes widened. “Your brother?” I hissed.

  “Yep. Looks like he got it honest, didn’t he?” Hank gritted out.

  Hank’ father chewed on his lip. “I’m going to let that go.” The light flicked up to my face. “You’re that necromancer, aren’t you? Living on the big property on the outskirts of town?”

  I nodded.

  “And you’re hooking up with my son.”

  I shut my eyes and sent a prayer for patience up in the air. I wasn’t sure what the hell to say.

  “We were just talking, Dad.”

  “Uh huh. I bet Jimmy has a different story when he wakes up.” He chuckled. “And she looks a might rumpled. What happened to that Charity girl? She didn’t have a brain in her head, but she sure was pretty.”

  “Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath.

  “She’s fine, Dad.” Hank’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard, it was starting to warp.

  “She probably won’t be too happy to hear about this.”

  “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

  Hank’s dad laughed at that. “I got a call from Charity’s mom, son. If you don’t think you’re dating, you’re in for a big surprise this weekend.”

  Okay. I’d heard enough. “Sir, do I need to be here anymore? I’d like to call a friend to leave.”

  Hank gave me a pleading look. “Helen, please don’t. This is all a misunderstanding.”

  I held a hand up. “You led her on. I’m sorry. I never should have gotten into the car with you. This was a mistake.”

  Hank’s dad gave me a frank perusal. “I guess that’s fine as long as Hank’s account is the same as yours.” He pointed to Jimmy. “He insulted you?”

  I nodded.

  “My son punched him out?”

  I nodded again.

  “Make your call.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Hank’s dad gave him a long look. Hank let his head flop against the back of his seat.

  I dialed Pepper who answered right away, and then I realized she had just as many margaritas as I’d had. Crap. “I’ll call you back,” I said abruptly. I hung up, got on my cab app, and scheduled one to pick me up using the gps feature on my phone. Five minutes. That’s all I had to wait.

  Hank’s dad stepped away from the window leaving us in the truck alone.

  “I can still take you home,” Hank said.

  I shook my head. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. “No thank you.”

  “You can’t deny what just happened, Helen.”

  “I’m not denying anything. Charity deserves better.”

  “We aren’t -”

  “Dating. I know. You’ve said that. But your father and Charity’s mother seem to think you are. You’re supposed to meet her parents.” I ran a hand through my hair, mussing it up even worse. “I am such an idiot.” I was never going to have another margarita as long as I lived. The effects of it had slowly worn off, but I still didn’t feel comfortable enough to drive myself or to really speak without saying something regrettable. But the terrible thing about margaritas and body chemistry was the fact that as much as you might have wanted to stop talking, your mouth disagrees. “I really liked you. I like you. But this feels wrong. I think I need to step back and you need to speak to Charity.”

  “I’ll be at your house on Monday to start your landscaping.” He didn’t acknowledge anything I just said. He didn’t even say he liked me.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll leave a check in my mailbox.”

  “You won’t be there?”

  I snort laughed. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to see you for awhile. Consider us to be involved in a business relationship right now.” Lights illuminated the cab of the truck. I grabbed my purse and slipped out.

  “Helen! Ca
n’t we talk about this?”

  “We already did.” I shut the door and headed over to the cab. Hank’s father watched me the entire time.

  The cab driver was a vamp. Why could I not get away from dead people? I slid in, punched my address into the tablet he handed me, and slid my card into the reader to pay for the ride. In less than a minute we were off.

  I came home to a very excited Margo. I bent down and gave her a hug around the neck. “Ready to go out?” I asked. She gave me an urgent yap which made me laugh. I unlocked the back door and she shot out like a bullet.

  Five minutes later she was back in, so I wrestled with her a little bit and tried to forget about my night. What a disaster. I went out to forget about my love life only to awkwardly get stuck with the one man I was trying not to think about. Then I ended up making out with him only to find out from his dad that he really was dating Charity.

  Men were not all that bright on a good day. At least in my opinion, but this one kind of took the cake. Guilt roiled in my stomach. I wasn’t going to have a single thing to do with Hank until he completely broke it off with Charity. Maybe not even then. I kicked off my shoes and padded into my bedroom. My gaze snagged on a white card left on my dresser. I picked it up only to realize it was Lucien’s. I smiled and set it back down.

  Maybe I would take him up on the date. But not tomorrow. It was too soon.

  I changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank and scrubbed my makeup off with a washcloth and some cold cream made by a friend of mine. Less than ten minutes later I was curled up with Margo doing my best to get some sleep.

  The next morning I woke up feeling like I’d been hit in the head with a sledgehammer, and the events of the night before came slamming in to me like a freight train. I should have drank more, if only to avoid the embarrassing memories. Margo jumped out of bed and waited by the door expectantly. I pulled the pillow over my head and she gave a little warning woof.

  “You can’t wait five minutes for food?”

  Margo growled.

  I snort laughed and threw the pillow at her. Margo dodged and jumped onto the bed where she promptly sat on my chest and started to lick my face.

  “Get off!” I cried through my laughter.

  She shoved her wet, cold nose in my ear.

  “Uncle!” I cried. “Uncle!”

  Margo jumped off the bed and stared at me.

  “You’re the worst.”

  I slid out of the bed and padded to the kitchen to feed the beast and put on a pot of coffee.

  The doorbell rang as soon as the pot started to brew. “Go away.” I stared at the pot waiting for it to hurry up.

  It rang again. “I’m dead!” I called.

  The voice through the door was familiar and completely unexpected.

  “Me, too,” said Lucien.

  I burst into laughter only for it to quickly morph into horror when I realized what I must look like.

  “Crap.” I rushed into the bathroom. Thank all that was holy that I took my makeup off last night, otherwise I would have had mascara running down my face. But...I definitely looked hungover. Maybe a little heartbroken too.

  But my pajamas were super cute.

  “I’m not going away!” Lucien called through the front door.

  At least he wasn’t prowling around the back yard. Margo, hearing Lucien, went to sit at the front door. She wasn’t growling so that was a good sign.

  I opened the door. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance.

  “What?”

  Lucien blinked. “Uhh. You know it’s one p.m.?”

  I stared.

  “Okay. Apparently that doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s the weekend.”

  “Do I smell coffee?” Lucien asked.

  “You do.” I made no move to open the door.

  Lucien grinned at me and held out his hand. Between his thumb and index finger dangled my Ravenclaw mug. I took it from him. “About time, you thief.”

  “You could fill that with coffee,” he said hopefully.

  “Lucien, what do you want?”

  “Coffee?”

  I groaned and opened the door wider. He brushed past me in a cloud of expensive, delicious smelling cologne and patted Margo on the head as he walked by her. So today, according to Margo Law, Lucien was okay.

  I didn’t get that dog.

  I shut the door behind him and led Lucien into the kitchen. I was feeling a little bare in my sleep shorts and tank, but a little bit too hungover to care. Lucien’s stare followed me as I pulled two new mugs down and filled them. I passed him one over and gestured to the cream and sugar I’d laid out on the counter.

  He picked up the spoon and meticulously fixed his coffee while I watched.

  “Hurry up, I need the creamer.”

  Lucien stirred his coffee slower.

  “I’m hungover. It is not wise of you to mess with the hungover necromancer.”

  One of his eyebrows lifted and he stirred even slower.

  I sighed and dug through my silverware for another spoon.

  Lucien’s wicked chuckle rolled down my spine. “You’re rather grumpy,” he said.

  I was already sipping my coffee. “You showed up at my house in the morning -”

  “It’s past lunch time, you lush.”

  “It’s morning for me. Now spit it out.”

  “I’ve come to give you fair warning. I wish you were more awake for I fear the news I have for you is not good.”

  “You speak in twisted poetry, Lucien.”

  He let out a surprised laugh. “That might be the most oddly positive compliment I’ve ever received.”

  “I’m not so sure it was meant to be positive,” I grumbled.

  “Go get dressed, Helen, please. You’re a distraction and I wish to speak of important business with you.”

  I sipped my coffee. ”That sounds rather cryptic. Should I be concerned?”

  A sad smile peeked from the corner of his mouth. “You should be. Now please, put on some pants.”

  I carried my coffee with me into the bedroom and dug through my closet looking for a pair of jeans. After I put them on, I threw my hair up in a ponytail and walked back out. “There. Pants.” I was still wearing my tank top, but at least I had a bra on.

  Lucien frowned but gestured for me to sit down.

  “We’ve known each other for all of 24 hours. This can’t possibly be too important.”

  “Midnight Cove Realty is seeking to undo your purchase of the land, claiming fraud and elderly abuse.”

  The mug I was holding crashed to the floor, splashing hot liquid all over my bare feet. Pain shot through the top of my foot and blood welled up.

  Lucien hissed, and I wanted to cry because I’d just done the dumbest possible thing you could ever do in front of a vampire. I’d bled.

  “Oh. Oh my goodness,” I said, staring helplessly at my foot bleeding all over the floor.

  Lucien rushed out of his seat and grabbed a kitchen towel. He swung me up in his arms and sat me on top of the counter. He pressed the towel against my foot.

  “Hold it there with firm pressure,” he said, his voice completely neutral and in control.

  I did as he said and he went to the sink. He grabbed another towel, wet it, and brought that over to replace the dry one. I whimpered in pain as he removed the towel.

  “Oh, Helen. We’re going to have to go to the hospital, my dear.”

  “It will be fine,” I said as I tried to get up. I glanced down at my foot. Huge mistake.

  “Oh my,” I said right before I passed out.

  10

  The sounds of yelling roused me. I was lying in the back seat of a very nice car with my foot wrapped in a towel, but I was bleeding so much it had seeped through and was doing a pretty incredible job of ruining the leather.

  I cried out in pain as I moved my foot. The shouts stopped abruptly. I looked up only to find two pair of concerned eyes staring right at me.

  One belo
nged to Lucien. The other belonged to Hank.

  Of all the freaking things that could happen. I sighed. “Can we go, Lucien?”

  He straightened. “Of course.”

  He started to walk around the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat when Hank reached out and grabbed his arm. “You aren’t taking her anywhere.”

  Lucien stiffened and gave Hank the once over. He jerked himself free. “I don’t think you have any right to tell me anything about what might be best for Helen after the events of last night. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I winced. Ouch. I wondered who else had heard about that.

  Hank flinched as if he had been struck. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

  “She dropped her mug. It shattered and at minimum she cut her foot.” He stared back at me. “Although, I think she might have fractured it, too.” Lucien shook his head. “She’s bleeding everywhere and needs to go to the hospital. If you’re finished posturing?”

  Hank and Lucien stared each other down until Hank relented with a terse nod. “I’ll follow you.”

  “Hank. No.” My thoughts were spinning from Lucien’s information. I couldn’t deal with anything else right now.

  His lips pressed together, but he didn’t say anything. Hank spun on his heel and headed back to his truck.

  Lucien slid into his vehicle and winced at the sight of my foot. “That was not really a delay we could afford.” Concern showed in his vivid blue gaze. “Are you alright?”

  “My foot is killing me.”

  Lucien turned back around and started the car. “I was not just referring to your foot.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but he shook his head instead and pulled into the long drive on my property.

  My teeth were chattering and I winced every time we hit a bump.

  “I am so sorry, Helen. Perhaps I should have encouraged you to put the mug down before I told you anything.”

  “How can they do that?”

  Lucien glanced in his rearview mirror. “They plan to try something called rescission.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “It’s usually used by a buyer. So say you purchased a home and found out the foundation was shot. Only you had an inspection on the house and the inspector said it was in great condition. Normally a home inspector is immune to lawsuits for something like that. But say you found out later the home inspector was related to the realtor and had a vested interest in ensuring the home sale. That could open up an opportunity for a little wiggle room in the contract.” He waved a hand. “Not the greatest example, but non disclosure is one of the biggest things that could result in winning a rescission case.”