He nodded, looking confused.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if I kept him distracted, and you were able to just focus on your work?”
He looked surprised. “Yeah, but things could get a little dangerous in there.”
I lifted a brow. “Dangerous I can handle.”
“You’re sure?”
I wanted to be annoyed, but it was kind of sweet that he seemed to care about me. Or at least I hoped he cared about me rather than thought I wasn’t capable of keeping an angry spirit busy.
“I’m sure.”
He smiled, and when my heart stopped in response, I realized the big guy didn’t smile much. In fact, he didn’t feel like someone who was used to smiling. Not just because of his hard childhood, but something about his long, dark hair and his sleeves of tattoos gave him the feel of a man who wanted to present a certain image to the world. And yet, the sadness that I sensed in him cloaked him like the shadows Hunter used.
His smile faded, and his gaze moved to my lips.
My heart raced. Why do I have the sudden urge to lean closer? Is it because I was alone for so long?
I didn’t know why I rushed to unbuckle, then bolted from the car. All I knew was that I cared about Hunter, and I wasn’t about to go kiss his best friend. Times may have changed but I doubted they’d changed that much.
Behind me, I heard Grim slam the car door. When he moved to stand at my side, his face was carefully blank, so much so that I wondered if I imagined our moment in the car. It’d been so long since I was around people, I could’ve read the situation wrong.
I exhaled slowly. That was probably it. “So what’s the plan? Kick open the door, I pin him to the ground and beat the shit out of him, and you pull his spirit through?”
Grim’s jaw dropped open, then quickly closed. “No, uh, we usually try to handle things a little differently.”
“Like?” I asked, frowning.
“We’ll tell them we’re from the neighborhood watch, and we wanted to ask them if they’ve seen anything weird the last few days. I’ll excuse myself to the bathroom, and cross through there, and you keep them busy with questions.”
“Got it,” I said. We started walking. “What’s the neighborhood watch?”
He stopped. “They’re citizens that watch over a neighborhood, like police without badges, and make sure everyone is safe.”
“Got it,” I said again.
I felt him give me the side-eye, and I didn’t blame him. The truth was I was ready to fight this guy. I was good at that. I wasn’t prepared to make conversation about a world I still didn’t entirely understand. But I guessed I could try flirting? I was rusty, but maybe that would work…
When we stepped onto the porch and rang the bell, I could sense a person on the other side. I could also feel them watching us, which was a little unnerving. The desire to attack roared through me, like the moment before I was pulled through a mirror, and I found myself shaking. Even the coppery-scent of blood filled my nose.
And then the door opened.
A middle-aged blonde was on the other side. She was pretty, but had a plastic feel to her, like her skin was stretched too tight. She wore light make-up, a white outfit with a white blouse and white skirt, and her hair was pulled up into a tight bun.
Grim looked confused for a second.
I wasn’t, not at all. Evil took a lot of forms. If there was one thing I knew, it was that. “Hello.”
The woman forced a smile. “Hi.”
“Uh, we’re from the neighbor watchers. We were wondering if we could come in for a quick chat.”
“Well, of course, anything for the people who keep this neighborhood safe. I’m Lucy, by the way, Lucy Peterson. And you are?”
Grim answered before I could. “I’m Bill and this is Susan Plane.”
She smiled and opened the door wider, gesturing for us to come in. We did so, even though it felt weird to just be welcomed inside by something evil we planned to kill. I tried to keep my eyes subtly on the woman, but I was also taken aback a bit. Inside the house was fucking weird.
Beside the door, there was a spot where four backpacks hung from hooks. Above each backpack was a name. Under the backpacks were four neatly placed pairs of shoes. It was all… creepily organized. And the living room? It was all white…
I’d stared into enough households with kids to know this was weird beyond words. The white couches looked like they’d never been sat on, the white rug had never been stepped on, and the glass tables looked like the kinds of things that any kid would break within a few days. There were also pictures on the wall of a smiling family in different color-coordinated outfits.
Whatever hell-spawn this woman was, she was not someone to mess with.
“I’m going to get some lemonade,” she told us, flashing her pearly whites. “Do you like your lemonade sweet?”
I nodded in silent horror.
She winked. “Three sweet lemonades it is!”
“Oh,” Grim said before she could leave. “Mind if I use the bathroom?”
“Of course!” she exclaimed, then pointed to a hall. “Right down there, first door on the right past the piano room.”
She headed for the kitchen, and I grabbed Grim’s arm, squeezing tight. “Be careful,” I whispered, when she was out of ear-shot.
He frowned. “Why?”
I waved a hand around, then looked back at him. “We are in the presence of some serious evil.”
He lifted a brow. “Huh?”
“No one can keep a house with kids this neat and organized without some kind of deal with the devil.”
He looked at me like I was nuts. “Alright then.”
I let him go and watched him walk away, then moved toward the couch and stopped. I eyed the white rug and couch. I was pretty damned sure if I touched them I was going to get dirt on them. So did I just stand here?
Lucy came back into the room, holding three glasses of lemonade to her chest. She pulled out coasters and set them carefully on the table, her smile never wavering, then gestured to the couch.
I sat down and pretended to drink my lemonade.
“Is it good?”
“Yeah,” I told her, and my brain literally wheezed, not knowing another thing to say.
But my lack of social skills didn’t seem to bother her. “So, you mentioned the neighborhood watch had some questions?”
I nodded, ordering my brain to work. “Yeah, uh, have you noticed anything unusual lately?”
She set her glass down and leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratory volume. “Don’t even get me started! As the head of the HOA, it’s my job to ensure everyone does their part to keep the neighbor perfect, but not everyone is of the same mind. Just this week I’ve had to give 50 fines alone! The Clarks got oil stains on their driveway. The Bentons kept allowing their cat outside, and now they’re posting fliers to find the useless thing. That’s two violations. Mrs. Smith was selling candles out of her house, but apparently, someone broke in and took all of her things. Not that I mind, it’s what she deserves for running a business out of her home. And that Mr. Frank… oh, you must know, he leaves his bins out, lets his weeds grow, and even painted his house outside of the accepted colors.”
I didn’t even know what the fuck to say. Did people actually have so little going on in their lives that they cared about fines and imperfections? Or was this just the work of something evil and jaded? “Uh, Mr. Fank must have gotten a lot of fines.”