Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3 Page 8

  He cursed and then leaned his head against the rusty bars. “I know it looks bad, Bree, but I can explain. It’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Yup, here’s the explanation.” I crossed my arms. “You’ve lied to me twice now. And I suspect there’s something supernatural curling under your skin. Something you don’t want to tell me. It’s one more thing you haven’t been honest about.”

  He swallowed hard, and I found myself glowering into his eyes while keeping up whatever mental protections I could. Because I was no fool. Something about him drew me, and whatever supernatural sauce he had, he’d been using it to get close to me. In that, he wasn’t a lot different than Crash. He closed his eyes again. “I’m as much of a bastard as my cousin. Just in a different way.”

  “You introduced him to Davin,” I said, that piece of information reminding me that he—Corb—had done more damage than he’d probably ever intended. “Davin helped him screw me over. And it looks like Davin wants me out of Savannah. Why?”

  Corb opened his eyes and frowned. “What? Davin helped him? I didn’t know that. I swear, I didn’t!”

  I didn’t even know if I could trust that small bit of surprise. I took a step back. “Thanks for letting me stay with you, Corb. That was a good thing you did. And for cleaning my clothes that one night. And for kissing me to make Alan jealous. All good things. Honest. But that’s where it ends. I’m done with liars.”

  I turned my back on him and walked down the street. The gates creaked open, and then a hand on my arm spun me around.

  “I didn’t kiss you to make him jealous,” he said, moving toward me. I didn’t expect what was coming next, honest.

  Because suddenly that cheeky bugger was kissing me again. Only, it wasn’t a casual kiss that felt nice and had a little spice behind it, or even the panty-melting kiss he’d planted on me in front of Alan.

  This kiss felt like the ocean crashing over me, drowning me in salt water that slid under my flesh, caressing every inch of me with this man’s touch and his taste, making my skin shiver in anticipation. This kiss had an oomph that I’d previously felt only with Crash, except instead of fire, it filled me with night air and the pull of the ocean tide. I dug my hands into his hair and held him tightly, feeling like there was something just outside the edge of my reach if I could only find it. I might have groaned. I’m not really sure, or maybe it was him.

  His mouth slid off mine before I could grasp that elusive something, and it was then that I realized we were all tangled around each other—my arms around his neck, his arms around my back, one of his hands in my long hair and the other firmly grabbing my ass. To top it off, my legs were wrapped around his waist, which meant I could tell all too clearly just how happy he was to have me plastered over him.

  Corb’s breath came in gasps as if he too wasn’t sure what had happened there. “Sorry. I’m sorry. But please don’t push me away. I haven’t felt like this about anyone for a long time, and I can’t just let you walk away. I don’t see you as someone to use. I don’t. No matter what other people might say. Even if yes, that was the original job. It changed very quickly, Bree. You have to believe me.”

  I unwrapped myself from him, getting myself back onto solid ground. Robert’s finger bone dropped to the ground, and he appeared once more at my side and let out a growl, which helped pull me back from the brink of forgetting that Corb had been lying all along.

  “How can I trust you?” I said, hating how breathy my voice was with all those hormones rippling through me. Hot damn, that kiss had been something else and every part in me was tingling with a desire I couldn’t shake.

  He smoothed a hand through his hair. “We start again. You be honest with me, and I’ll be honest with you.”

  I quirked both eyebrows up. “Just what have I lied about?”

  “Nothing.” He held up both hands. “It was a figure of speech. Please let me take you out tomorrow. We can talk then. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Well, that was interesting. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to get closer to him—my body’s reaction was way too strong and that made me stupid—but I had nothing planned for the next night and my brain and hormones were scrambled badly, which meant that I wasn’t really thinking about saying no. “Fine. One dinner.”

  And that was how I ended up going on my first real date in almost twenty years with a man younger than me, who held a wallop of power he’d been keeping hidden, and seemed determined to gain my interest back.

  Yup, just call me a cougar.

  9

  The walk back to my gran’s house helped shut off all the wild hormones, the pulsing of blood in my veins that called me back to Corb’s arms. But not even the coolness of a Savannah night could burn off everything he had awakened in my body.

  Which only left me feeling more confused. If you’d asked me after my kiss with Crash that morning, I would have told you that nothing could be hotter and there was no one I’d rather roll around naked with for hours on a plastic sheet with a heck of a lot of oil.

  But the kiss with Corb had been just as strong, in a different way, and at a certain moment I’d wanted to just . . . I couldn’t even find the words, but the closest I could come to was press myself into him. To sink under his skin. To let him wash over me.

  I’d gone from being married and having zero sex to having two smoking hot guys kissing me in one day. Younger me would have been horrified. Older me was somewhat fascinated that this was even happening. And just kind of running with it. I mean, I didn’t really have to choose between them, and I still didn’t feel like it. Even if Crash had basically told me we’d be terrible together and Corb had lied to me.

  “Weird, this is too weird,” I whispered to myself.

  Robert grunted and I glanced at my companion. “Robert, you don’t like Corb?”

  He gave a rolling shrug as he swayed along but said nothing. So I tried again. “What about Crash?”

  Another rolling shrug and I burst out laughing. “Robert, you don’t like either of them?”

  “Friend,” he said softly. And held out a hand.

  “Ah, Robert. It really sucks when the sweet guy is the dead guy.” I put my hand in his and his skeletal fingers tightened over my mine.

  That’s how I ended up walking all the way home holding hands with a skeleton. See? I told you Robert wasn’t the worst date I’d ever been on.

  I left Robert under the sprawling oak tree in the front yard, Spanish moss hanging low off the branches, swaying only slightly in the breeze. Kinkly gave me a wave from a branch partway up the tree, turned her back to me, and wrapped her wings around herself.

  Up the front stairs I went, pausing on the threshold of the door.

  Above my head was the distinct sound of furniture bumping rhythmically around.

  “Seriously? Are you still going at it?” I muttered. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was happy Suzy and Eric were obviously getting along and getting to know each other in the biblical sense, but this was a bit ridiculous. Didn’t they need to sleep too? It was after midnight.

  I let myself into the dark house. “Gran?”

  She flickered to life for just a second in front of me, gave me a look of irritation, and then disappeared in a puff.

  I frowned. “Hey, I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t make them get busy, be mad at them. Can I talk to you please? It’s about a new job.” I wanted her take on all the strangeness that had unfolded at the Marshall House. “Gran, I could really use your help.”

  I waited, but there was nothing from her, not even another glimmer. Damn it.

  She’d been moody ever since I’d gotten the yellow manila envelope that held information about her death and my parents’ deaths. I mean, I knew she wanted to know what had happened to her—I did too. But I also knew it would entail opening another pathway of mysteries. I just couldn’t do it all at once.

  Apparently tonight she’d decided she was going to give me the cold shoulder to prove whatever
point she was trying to make. The only other time she’d done that was when she’d caught me smoking weed as a teenager. I’d tried to tell her I was using it to enlighten my brain so I could connect more deeply with the shadow world. Surprisingly enough, she hadn’t bought my reasoning. She’d pointed out that if I wanted to enlighten my brain, I would need something stronger than weed.

  “Moody old lady,” I muttered. She’d come out of her funk eventually. If I knew anything about Gran, it was that she refused to be hurried. “At this rate, I’ll be dead too before you talk to me,” I threw out to the open air.

  A snort from the kitchen but otherwise no answer.

  Adjusting my bag on my hip, I headed up the stairs, avoiding the ones that creaked. All I wanted was to drag my body into bed, pop a couple Advil, and close my eyes to the world for a few hours.

  The morning was coming soon enough to deal with the stuff I’d gathered from Grimm. To pin Gran down. And to find a necromancer who could talk to me—

  A loud bang rippled from Suzy’s room. No, I wasn’t putting up with that all night.

  “Well, that’s enough of that shit.” I changed directions and headed straight for Suzy’s room. I rapped a knuckle on it. “I know you two are having fun, but seriously, go to sleep. Or go to Eric’s house or something.”

  I turned away and another loud thump sounded, this time accompanied by a muffled sound that could have been words in a pillow. Or something shouted into a gag. A tremor of unease slid up my spine. I stood there in front of the door as Feish stepped out of her bedroom, wrapped in a bright red silk kimono, yawning wide and showing off gills at the back of her throat.

  “They still banging boots? Been all damn night, thumping and bumping. Like furniture being tossed.” She wrapped her arms around her middle.

  What if they weren’t banging boots, as Feish had so delicately put it? What if something was wrong?

  I put my hand on the door. “I’m coming in, cover up!” I yelled, gave them a beat of ten seconds, and twisted the door handle.

  It didn’t turn, but instead went ice cold and froze over. “Ah crap!” I stepped back, lifted a foot, and booted the door. Now let me tell you something, this was not my first attempt to kick a door down. The first time, I’d ended up bouncing backward and landing on my ass. I was hoping I’d gained some skill. I also held back a little, just in case.

  I aimed for just to the left of the knob, and the door rattled but didn’t splinter. “Feish, go get Crash!” I yelled as I kicked the door again. Nothing. I put my hand on the knob, and if possible, it was even colder than before.

  Suzy and Eric were in there and someone was hurting them. I yanked both knives from the sheaths on my thighs and drove one straight into the keyhole of the door. The old metal cracked and groaned as I wrenched the knife left and right, shattering the metal as though it were glass.

  The door was still stuck, and nothing happened when I shoved against it, pushing with all I had.

  Crash raced up the stairs in naught but a pair of jeans, and then he was next to me, his shoulder against the door. “What the hell happened?”

  “Ducked if I know! I was out of the house, and I figured they were having fun.” I pulled back and shoved on the door again, the hinges groaning with our combined efforts.

  “Again,” Crash growled and a tingle of something rolled off him as we hit the door, his magic weaving with our bodies. The wood exploded and we fell into the room. Only it no longer looked like my gran’s house.

  I slopped forward through what could only be called swampland, the water up to my mid-shins. Vegetation better suited to the deepest jungles than the inside of a house covered every inch of the room, and that included the two figures tied to a couple of back-to-back chairs with thick vines. Eric’s glasses were all I could see, and his eyes had never been wider.

  I lurched through the water to his side and used my knife to cut the vines off his face first.

  “Suzy, help Suzy!” he breathed out. “They did this to her.”

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I grabbed the vine-mummified Suzy and started slashing at the climbers, cutting them loose and yanking them off. Behind me, Crash helped Eric get fully free, and then they were helping me with Suze. Which was good because as soon as we cut through a runner, another applied itself to her. The water around us sloshed, and the impossibility of this situation—this room—was not lost on me.

  “Why the hell didn’t Gran warn me?” My anger wasn’t really at Gran, but at myself for not having noticed something was wrong. For not checking on these two sooner.

  “They spelled Celia, I think,” Eric said. “She did warn us, but they did something to make her not herself.”

  I finally got the vines off Suzy’s face, four layers of thick vegetation, and her eyes fluttered open. “Suze, we got you!”

  “’Bout time,” she whispered.

  Ten more minutes passed as we fought the vines, finally freeing her.

  “Out in the hall,” Crash said.

  Feish put out a blanket, and we laid Suzy on it as we got the last of the remaining vines off. “She needs another siren to help her,” Feish whispered. “Someone strong enough to get her through this.”

  “What is ‘this’?” I scooped up Suzy’s hand. Her skin was deathly cold and clammy as if there were no hot blood pumping through her. “What is happening to her?”

  “I think someone triggered her siren side, thinking she’d do harm to Eric.” Feish stroked Suzy’s pale face. “A half-breed siren with no control would have drained Eric of life. But she managed to fight off the urge, most likely because she’s falling in love with the bigfoot.” Eric startled, but Feish just plowed on. “And this—” she motioned to the swamp in the room, which was somehow not dripping out past the doorway—“is what happened.”

  Other than Suzy, I didn’t know any sirens, half-breed or otherwise. “Her mom?” I offered.

  Feish shook her head and Suzy grabbed my hand. “No. Not her.”

  I looked at Crash. “You know any sirens?”

  He blinked down at me. “Call Corb. He brought her into the Hollows. He should know what to do.”

  Eric ran to get his phone, and he handed it to me while I gripped Suzy’s hand. “Suze, we’re calling Corb. Can he help you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes scrunched tightly. “I’m sorry about the room, Bree. Please send Eric out.”

  “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll get the room cleaned up in no time.” I squeezed her fingers, fear clutching my heart. Losing Suze was not an option. I dialed Corb. He didn’t pick up, and I left a frantic message that I followed up with an equally urgent text: 9-1-1 Gran’s house!!

  Eric shook his head. “No, I’m staying with you.”

  A tear slipped from under one of her eyelids. “You have to go. I can’t control this much longer.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” He went to his knees and scooped up her hand. “I’m not.” Only she didn’t answer, her body limp and unconscious.

  I looked at Crash for help. He stood back at the top of the stairs, his upper body slick with water from the swamp, his jeans wet almost to his thighs. As lovely as all that was to look at, it was his face that I locked onto and, more specifically, the uncharacteristic worry I saw there. I mouthed one word. Bad?

  He gave me a slow nod and mouthed back I’m sorry.

  I tightened my hold on Suzy’s hand. “Is there nothing we can do to help?”

  Feish stroked Suzy’s hair. “If she’d drained Eric’s life, she would have survived.”

  “Wait, are you saying she might not survive even with help now?” The words tumbled out of me as I tightened my grip on Suzy’s hand. “Are you serious?”

  “Even a siren of full power might not be able to help her at this point,” Feish whispered. “It has been too long since it was opened in her, I think. I’m sorry, I should have known something was wrong.”

  My thoughts were racing as I tried to come up with a solution that would ke
ep both Suzy and Eric with us. “Suze, hang on,” I whispered as I gave her hand to Feish. “Yell if she changes.”

  I stood too quickly and my knees protested, but I ignored them and forced my legs to hurry to my bedroom, my arm reaching out to grab Crash along the way. He followed me willingly as I flipped my bag off my neck and onto the bed. “Explain to me quickly what is happening, please.”

  He stood across the bed from me as I yanked Gran’s spell book out. I’d relinquished the hand-tooled leather cover (for a good cause), and the pages were now enclosed in the cover for Spells for Beginners. I flipped it open, searching for the section on sirens. I knew there was one because I’d looked for it after meeting Suzy, and also because Gran was nothing if not thorough.

  “When a half-breed siren gets close to their fiftieth year and the change comes on them,” Crash said, “they either stay weak and able to do only minor manipulation of emotions, or they come into their family powers.” He took a pause, and I knew the next part would be bad. “If they have a victim on hand and can drain that victim’s life, then their powers will be solidified, and they will be able to fully control their powers from there on out. But if not . . .”

  I found the section I was looking for, held my hand there, and looked up at Crash, seeing the sorrow in his eyes. “If not?”

  “Then the siren will die, and her last gasps of magic will turn the place of her death into a breeding ground for more sirens. It’s sort of a circle of life for them. And in her case, since she is a swamp siren—”

  “Her death will create a permanent swamp here in Gran’s house.”

  You know, because it wasn’t enough that the house was haunted and home to a bunch of shadow world supernaturals.

  I put my hands on the book and read the words I’d been hoping I’d remembered correctly. Words that could maybe be the tipping point for Suzy.

  “Not if I can help it.”