Monica groaned and wobbled to her feet. “Oh, the heat just takes the stuffing out of you, doesn’t it?” Crash agreed, put a hand under her arm and helped her up to the porch, where she sat on a step. Yes, I did notice how his pants tightened as he bent over. Yes, I did look.
Heat flared through me again, and I tried desperately to school myself as he turned around and walked back my way, placing himself right behind me, where he’d been before. Damn him in all his chivalry and hotness.
“What are you doing here, Crash?” I didn’t turn around and I didn’t run away like Kinkly, although part of me thought I probably should. The man behind me was all kinds of stunning, from his rock-hard abs and bulging arm muscles to the lovely dark, silver-kissed hair tucked behind his ears and those blue eyes flecked impossibly with gold. All of that made me cross my legs and want to have a long, hot shower by myself. Trust me, I wasn’t kidding about my libido having gone bananas.
Crash did not help that particular side of me, so it was best if I didn’t even look at him.
“There’s a house auction today, I hear,” he said, his voice rumbling over my skin as if he were touching me. “And I’m here to bid on it.”
I spun and glared at him, my resolution to keep him out of sight having given way to a blitz of anger that had burned away most of my raging libido. “Don’t you dare! I just got rid of all the other bidders!” I was purposely not thanking him for getting me down from floating across the yard.
His eyebrows shot up in what could only be mock innocence. “Why wouldn’t I bid? It’s a beautiful house with great curb appeal, and as an investment, I don’t think I could go wrong.”
My eyebrows lowered in perfect contrast to his going up. To spite me. That’s why he was here. We’d not parted on great terms, what with me trying to return the knives and him accusing me of reneging on a deal. All I’d wanted was to cut ties with him.
You see, he’d forged the demon-steel knife that had nearly been used to kill Eric. Worse, he’d given it back to Hattie after I’d stolen it from him. It had been a matter of sheer luck—with a sprinkle of good timing—that I’d managed to keep Eric safe.
I glared at him, anger stealing my voice. The best I could do was turn my back on him with a big huff and hope that he didn’t want the house too badly. Though if what he was saying was only a little true, he wanted it badly enough.
Of course, that was when things went from bad to worse.
You see, my gran had had two besties. The one I’d liked, Hattie, had turned out to be a grave-magic-dabbling psycho. The other, Missy, I’d never liked. She’d always been cruel to me, and to others. I’d seen her do things behind Gran’s back that would curl your hair, but she was careful not to leave marks.
Gran had never believed me. It was the one thing that hung between us. I’d never understood why she’d stood up for Missy.
But if the nice friend had been a nut, what did that suggest about Missy?
I needed to figure out fast, because she was strolling up the street, using her wicked cane to support herself. She paused at the small gate, as if to create a maximum amount of suspense. I didn’t want to let her escape my vision, which meant I had to look around Crash in order to see her. A wave of cool air washed forward as she finally stepped onto the garden path, a wind that was impossible in the Georgia heat. I couldn’t help it. I reached out and grabbed Crash’s forearm.
That saying about the devil you know being better than the one you didn’t? Well, I guess it didn’t apply since I knew both of them, but for the moment he seemed like the lesser of two evils.
“Now we’re friends again?” he murmured, and I looked up to see his eyes were locked on where I held his arm. I tugged him forward a few steps, away from Missy and closer to the opposite side of the yard. With Crash somewhat blocking me from her line of sight, I felt safer, but she was so focused on the house, a hungry look in her eyes, that she hadn’t even glanced our way yet. You see, the thing is, I knew my gran had left me treasures hidden within the walls. But no one other than the person whose name was on the deed would be able to unlock Gran’s secrets. So said Gran’s book.
I was starting to think I wasn’t the only one who knew that.
“She can’t have Gran’s house.” I growled the words and Crash’s arm flexed under my fingers. “She’s banana pants crazy and mean as a snake with a toothache in one of her fangs.” No, as far as I knew she didn’t actually have fangs, but at the rate I was going, who knew?
Missy stood near the far side of the garden, right up against the side butting up to the Sorrel-Weed house, which put a good amount of space between us. I wasn’t sure it mattered, though. Her eyes hadn’t left the house once in all the time I’d been watching her.
Crash turned his body so that he completely blocked my view of Missy and vice versa. “You think she’d hurt you?”
I looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I liked. Genuine concern. “Don’t make me like you again, Crash. I’m still angry about the demon knife. That and not letting me return the two knives for credit. You’re the bad guy, remember?”
He snorted, and his lips twitched. “Wait until you get a bounty that requires you to bend the rules, Breena, then we’ll discuss those knives and what it means to be a bad guy.”
I got up on my tiptoes, mostly so he wasn’t looking so far down on me. I wasn’t short at five-foot-eight, but these last few weeks had carved a good deal of my extra pounds off—pounds I’d used to my advantage in the past to throw my weight around.
“Right is right, wrong is wrong.” That came out of my mouth as clearly as if my gran had whispered it in my ear. “But let’s set that aside for now. Missy cannot have this house.”
“Why?” He lowered his voice, his eyes flicking over my face as if he couldn’t help himself. Softening just a bit as they dipped low to my lips. Score one for Kinkly’s makeup help. “You afraid she’ll sell the china?”
I blew out an exaggerated puff of air as Monica the realtor stepped back out onto the porch, a little wobbly, but moving around now as if nothing had happened. I frowned as she shook her head and clutched her clipboard to her chest.
She opened her mouth, closed it, and tried again. “It’s like she’s pretending she didn’t just float across the yard like a balloon,” I said.
“The human mind shuts things out,” Crash said. “Fairy magic in particular tends to do strange things to humans.”
I wanted to look at him, to see what his face was saying more than his words, but I found myself staring at Monica. She tapped the wooden porch with her foot to get our attention, using three hard knocks that reverberated harder than they should have in my experience. The sound vibrated through me, and I couldn’t help but tighten my hold on Crash’s arm.
“Interesting,” he said.
Interesting? That wasn’t the word I’d use. Was Monica with the shadow world? It felt like there was some intention behind those knocks, but intention to do what? Not just to get people’s attention, but something else. She was human, so why the hell had she done that?
An intention to wake something.