Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Delphi shakes her head. “I feel very privileged all of the sudden.”
“Me too.” I spin my engagement ring around so the large diamond is facing my palm. Not because I’m worried someone will try to take it from me, but because I suddenly feel like an asshole wearing a ring that costs more than it would to feed and clothe everyone here.
“Hey,” I say to the first lucid looking person I see, who is a woman sitting on a cardboard box next to a blue tent. She’s so weathered and worn it’s hard to guess her age. “I’m looking for a guy. Goes by Razor Mike. I hear he can give me something to help me forget.”
Resting her elbows on her knees, she looks around and then holds out a hand. I pull a folded twenty dollar bill from my back pocket and give it to her. She takes the money, rubs it between her fingers, and then sticks it in her bra.
“Is he from around here?”
She shakes her head no.
“Do you know where I could find him?”
She nods and extends her hand again.
“Tell me where to find him,” I say as I hand her another folded bill.
“Blue house past the rail yard,” she tells me, voice hoarse from years of smoking. Most of her teeth are missing and she’s rail-thin. She’d make a perfect host for a demon. Delphi looks at me and I nod. Two people now have mentioned a blue house. “I’ll give you a warning for free.” The woman swallows hard and leans back, eyes opening and closing in a slow blink.
“What is it?”
“There’s something evil inside that house. If you go in, whatever comes out, it ain’t you no more.”
Chapter
Twenty-Four
This has to be it. I hike the bag up on my shoulder and pause, closing my eyes and holding my right hand out slightly in front of me.
“What are you doing?” Delphi whispers. We’re stopped on the street, standing in front of a blue house with boarded up windows. It looks like a house addicts and squatters would seek shelter in. The windows have been long boarded up by the city, I’m sure, and you almost wouldn’t think twice about the plywood serving another purpose. With the exception of a crack in the window next to the front door, this house is light-tight during the day.
Perfect for vampires.
“Feeling for demonic energy.” I open my eyes. “Do you sense anything?”
“Other than fear? No.”
“You don’t have to come in,” I tell her.
“I need to do this. For my pack.” Her eyes glow and she nods, setting her face. “For Charlie and Ben. Do you sense anything?”
“No.”
“And you can?”
“Usually. Demons can be good at hiding, but I am not sensing anything demonic at this moment.”
I lower my hand and pull out my phone. I take a picture of the house and send it to Xavier. Someone should know exactly where I am in case things go south. I don’t have to wear a GPS tracker like a dog anymore, and relying on Find My Friends isn’t the most accurate.
“We are looking for a guy who goes by the name Razor Mike,” I say into my phone, recording a voice message. “Two people have suggested he’s here. I don’t sense any demonic energy. We’re going in.” I send the voice note and then put my phone on Do Not Disturb and have Delphi do the same.
“You do this all the time?” Delphi asks as we make our way up the overgrown path leading to the house. It’s been awhile since I snuck up into monster territory, and a rush goes through me. Xavier had asked me before if I enjoyed killing things.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I couldn’t deny it.
“Stay back,” I whisper when we get to the front door. “Do you hear anything?”
As a werewolf, her hearing is better than mine. “No, but something smells very dead.”
I push open the front door and get hit in the face with the smell of decay. “Hello?” I call, reaching for the knife I have hanging from my hip. If anyone is in here, my plan is to hit them with the sleeping spell, tie them up, and bring them back to the house to question them. Though after smelling what I am right now, I might hose them off first.
Nothing replies or even moves inside the house. We wait a beat and then step inside.
“Oh god,” Delphi says, bringing her hand up to her face.
“I thought doctors were used to gross things.”
“I’ve drained a few abscesses and have been puked on more times than I can count, but thankfully I don’t deal with rotting bodies.”
“I guess that’s a good thing as a pediatrician.” I prop the front door open, letting light fill the room. The carpet was beige at one point, but is now muddy and brown. An old couch is against the opposite wall, with dirty pillows and blankets strewn about. There’s an impressive collection of empty Pepsi and beer cans, as well as a few cans of tomato soup. The place is covered in animal feces and water seeps down the exterior wall. Papers and more garbage cover the coffee table, and an old twin-sized mattress half covered with a wet-looking sleeping bag blocks the hall leading into the kitchen.