Bad to the Crone

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Bad to the Crone Page 8

by Amanda M. Lee


  “I think you’re giving me too much credit,” he countered. “I joined because I wanted to fight. It’s in my blood. I like a good battle.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you’re the sort of man who worries about a kitten and puts up with a teenager who creates drama wherever she goes. If you were all about the fight, you would be over both of those.”

  He sighed. “You’re going to ruin my street cred if you spread it around that I asked about the kitten,” he said finally. “My street cred is all I have.”

  “I think you’re full of it. Although ... what were you doing at the lumberyard earlier? I forgot to ask. Did you somehow know I would be going there?”

  “Actually, I did. Rooster mentioned the cabin needed work and you were going to do it yourself. I would’ve been there regardless. I work for Brandon one day a week for extra money. As you know, working for the company doesn’t exactly allow you to put a lot of money away.”

  “Definitely not,” I agreed. Everything I owned I could carry on my back. Still, I’d managed to tuck away a nest egg. “You’re basically saying, on top of everything else, you’re a hard worker.”

  “I like to keep busy.”

  I cast him a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re not gay?”

  “No ... and stop asking that.”

  “If you’re not gay, there has to be something else wrong with you.” I was adamant as I wiped my hands and got to my feet. “No guy who cares about kittens and teenagers is going to stay single otherwise.”

  “Have you ever considered that I’m merely picky?”

  “No.”

  He snorted and grabbed a napkin from the stack. “My life isn’t conducive to romance. I live a hard life ... and could die at any moment. Most women don’t understand that.”

  I felt the same way, so I understood where he was coming from. “That’s a bummer. You have a lot of potential being wasted.”

  “People might say the same about you.”

  The sound I let loose from deep in my throat was derisive. “What potential do I have?”

  “Well, you conjured fire and took out a spriggan without thinking twice about it,” he replied without hesitation. “You allowed Raisin to hang around even though you were obviously uncomfortable with her presence. You took in the cat even though you keep telling yourself that having an animal is a mistake given how often you move. Oh, and you can repair your own roof and plumbing. How is that not great potential?”

  I had no idea how to answer. Instead, I decided to change the subject. “We should probably give the roof one more once-over and then call it a day. I also need to change the door handles so I have actual locks. Rooster doesn’t seem to think I need them, but I disagree.”

  Instead of being offended, Gunner laughed. “You’re also a slave driver. Seriously, the potential is off the charts.”

  I decided to let the comment go because it felt too much like flirting, and that was the last thing I needed. “Let’s get to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re the boss.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Eight

  Gunner stayed until the sun set, talking up a storm as he helped me switch out door handles and check window locks. By the time we’d finished, we found two of the windows were accessible from the outside, and he promised to come back the following day to make sure the hardware was updated so I would feel safe in my new home.

  After that, I made myself a cup of Sleepytime tea and then fell into bed. I was officially exhausted. I couldn’t remember the last time I did that much manual labor. The kitten — who I had yet to name — climbed the blanket hanging off the side of the bed and made himself at home in the nook between my ear and shoulder. I heard him purring in my ear when I drifted off. It was a soothing sound ... until it stopped and my eyes immediately popped open.

  My internal clock told me I’d been down for hours. It was well past twilight, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the window. It was a crescent moon, so it didn’t offer much illumination.

  The first thing I thought about was the cat. He wasn’t on my shoulder, as he had been when I drifted off, and I thought for sure I would’ve heard him try to hop from the bed due to the distance. When I rolled to my elbows, my eyes determined as they searched the gloom, I found the kitten almost immediately. He sat on the end of the bed, his eyes rapt on the window, tail swishing back and forth as he stared at ... nothing.

  Er, well, I was convinced it was nothing. I couldn’t see anything. Heck, I couldn’t sense anything. If someone was outside the window I would know it. There was no doubt about that.

  “Here, kitty, kitty.”

  My back stiffened at the sound of the voice. It was low, craggy and altogether creepy. It was emanating from a spot directly on the other side of the window even though I couldn’t see anyone standing there.

  “Jump off the bed, kitty,” the voice hissed. “Make her follow you outside. I want to get a look at her.”

  I frowned at the voice, annoyance coursing through me. “If you want me to come outside, perhaps you should simply ask me yourself,” I challenged.

  A shadow I didn’t see upon first glance backed away from the window. I crawled to my knees so I could see through the glass once I moved to a spot next to the kitten. For his part, the purr monster seemed to be enamored with whatever was on the other side of the window, because he wiggled his butt and made it look as if he was about to make a jump that was far too wide for him to accomplish.

  “No, you don’t.” I wrapped my hand around his wriggling middle and lifted him before he could fall flat on his face. “You’re not going over there.”

  “Oh, let him come out and play,” the voice taunted. “I love me a good kitten ... to eat.”

  The suggestion was disgusting enough that I placed the cat on the pillow and climbed out of bed. Luckily I’d thought to sleep in yoga pants, otherwise the peeper on the other side of the window would’ve gotten a good show.

  “How about I come out and play instead?” I suggested, my temper getting the better of me. “Leave the cat alone and focus on me.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d never play the game.”

  MOST PEOPLE WOULD’VE CALLED for help if they found themselves being taunted by a malevolent voice through the window in the middle of the night.

  I’m not most people.

  I was used to taking care of myself, and the only fear coming from me revolved around the cat. Should something happen, should we be separated, there would be no way for the kitten to protect itself. With that in mind, I stopped by the front door long enough to erect a protective field. The kitten, not seeing the field, ran into it headlong as it tried to escape with me ... and then sat back on its haunches and offered up a terrific wail as I took a step back.

  “It’s for your own good,” I said, refusing to let the kitten’s sad countenance sway me. “If something happens to me, Gunner will stop by to check when I haven’t called in. He’ll find you ... and take care of you.”

  The kitten only grew more baleful.

  “I’m sorry. You’re safer inside.” I gave the animal a small wave and then straightened, turning my attention to the creeping darkness as it closed in. I was used to the city, where the buildings clung together and created a fearsome skyline. I should’ve felt safer here. It was open, after all. I could see my enemies coming ... yet the trees across the yard gave me pause. They beckoned and bade me to stay away at the same time.

  “Are you coming?” the voice asked from the opposite direction of where I’d been looking. “Are you going to stay here and stare or come with me and ... have fun?”

  “That sounds like something a guy in a van trying to pick up children would say,” I complained as I stomped down the stairs. Even though I knew it wasn’t the brightest move, I was confident in my abilities. I could handle whatever came ... and then some. “You should wor
k on your material. I mean ... you’ve got this creepy voice in the night thing going for you. You should embrace it, find a creepy outfit to match — like, have you ever considered dressing as a clown? — and wage war on the entire town. I think that sounds like a dandy job for you.”

  Farther away now, the voice laughed. It was quiet, so the wind carried the sound to me. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, do you?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “Hawthorne Hollow isn’t a normal town.”

  “No?” I tilted my head to the side when I thought I saw a hint of movement to the north. But the voice was coming from the west. If someone was trying to draw me out, why come at me from two directions? It seemed that an attempt was being made to distract me so someone could attack from the opposite direction. “What’s abnormal about it?”

  Instead of following the voice, I broke in the direction where I was certain I saw movement.

  “Where are you going?”

  I ignored the question and focused on a specific area, a spot protected from the moon by foliage and shadow. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sang out.

  “Don’t go over there!” The voice was full of warning. “I’m serious. That is not where you want to go.”

  “No? Why is that?” I was convinced my new friend was playing a game with me, and it was one I was determined to win. “Why can’t I head in this direction? I think there’s something over here I want to see.”

  The voice was succinct. “There isn’t.”

  “Oh, but there is.”

  “No, there’s not.” He let loose a loony laugh. “You’re the type who needs to find out for yourself, so have at it. Remember I warned you.”

  He sounded so sure I couldn’t stop myself from slowing my pace. I was almost at a standstill when I caught a hint of movement again. This time, I was certain whoever was hiding in the woods had decided to come after me ... although he or she wasn’t moving very fast.

  “This isn’t a very good plan,” I called out. “I can see you. You’re right there.”

  “That’s not me,” the voice countered.

  “I know, but ... it’s your buddy.”

  “It’s really not.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes as I prepared for whatever attack was about to come. “You just happened to show up at the exact same time. I believe that.”

  The voice was closer when it spoke again and I couldn’t stop myself from looking toward the moon when a hint of ethereal movement caught my attention. Whatever was there was largely transparent and floating a good ten feet above the ground.

  “What the ... ?” I didn’t get a chance to finish asking the obvious question because the shadow from the opposite direction was on me. Whatever it was — and I was no longer convinced it was human — moaned as hands reached for my neck.

  I didn’t take time to think. If I wanted to live, I had to react. On a whim, I let loose an arc of fire magic and pointed it in the direction of the creature on the ground. Whatever it was — man or beast — would recognize that fire burned and run. Seconds later, I shot a freezing blast of magic to the creature hovering in front of the moon. The way it was laughing set my teeth on edge and I hoped to shut it up.

  I should’ve thought better about combining fire and ice magic ... and in such close quarters. The outcome was something I didn’t fathom, couldn’t have seen no matter how hard I tried to look into the future.

  That didn’t mean it wasn’t impressive.

  I thought that right until the backlash from the fire and ice magic brushing against one another melded into one entity, snapped to attention and raced in my direction. I had only a split second to realize what was happening and throw up a shield. After that, all I could do was wait for the burst to die down ... and hope I would survive the screaming bout of mayhem that I’d plunged myself into.

  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

  Gunner was a furious ball of energy when he reached the yard next to my house. I didn’t call him, in case you’re wondering. That seemed too needy. I did call Rooster, however. He arrived within minutes. Unfortunately, he called for backup.

  That’s how I ended up sitting on the ground as Rooster tended to my wounds and Gunner went on a screeching diatribe.

  “I didn’t have time to think,” I replied calmly, refusing to allow Gunner’s anger to set the tone of the evening. “I knew there were two forces. I simply didn’t realize the first was a ghost. I would’ve ignored him if I had.”

  Gunner exhaled on an exasperated sigh as he turned his attention to the wispy man floating in circles above our heads.

  “This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” the ghost explained. “I mean ... really. Here I was, minding my own business, when she made me solid and then set me on fire. I mean ... how do you explain that?”

  Rooster, amused by the whole scene, cocked his head and stared at the buzzing ghost. “Since when have you ever minded your own business, Tim?”

  The ghost huffed out an exaggerated groan. “Um ... always. I always mind my own business. That’s who I am.”

  “That’s funny because my father says you were the local pervert,” Gunner challenged, his anger shifting from me to the ghost. “You were known around town as the creepy guy who stared in windows and always carried a sock.”

  It took me a moment to grasp what he was insinuating. “Oh, gross!”

  Rooster chuckled as he slapped a bandage on my arm. “You’re burned and slashed here, missy. I think you’re lucky to have got out of this as lightly as you did, though.”

  “Lightly?” Gunner was back to glaring at me. “How do you consider this light? Look around.” He gestured wildly, his hands windmilling over his head. “There’re big dead spots on the lawn because she almost set the whole place on fire.”

  Rooster exhaled heavily as he ripped off a piece of medical tape. “But she didn’t burn the whole place.”

  “She almost set a ghost on fire!”

  “Which is darned impressive, if you ask me.” Rooster winked, letting me know he was having a good time, and then fixed Gunner with a patient look. “What do you want, man? She went outside to check out a noise. That’s what we do.”

  “Everyone who has ever watched a horror movie knows that it’s stupid to go outside,” he complained. “I mean ... everyone. Have you not watched Scream?”

  “You’re showing your age,” I chided. “Scream is so twenty years ago.”

  “I’m going to show you my age,” Gunner muttered, causing me to grin. Despite the fear that momentarily assailed me right after the spells collided, I was feeling pretty good about myself. “Can we go back to the perverted ghost? Are you saying he was the sort of guy who stared into women’s homes?”

  “He was the sort of guy who stared into homes and whacked off,” Rooster corrected. “He was caught by a father who found him outside his teenage daughter’s room and killed. It was not a pleasant death.”

  “I can’t really work up much sympathy for him,” I said, lifting my eyes to the buzzing ghost. “You’re really gross, dude. You should be thankful I wasn’t the one who caught you back in the day. I would’ve made it hurt.”

  “Who said it didn’t hurt?” Tim shot back.

  Something occurred to me, and it was almost more than I could bear. “You have a Peeping Tim instead of a Peeping Tom. That is so ... priceless.”

  “Yes, it’s hilarious to know we had a sexual predator who managed to remain behind and keep up his antics as a ghost,” Gunner drawled.

  I sobered and checked my shirt to make sure it was covering everything. I hadn’t bothered sleeping in a bra, so I felt a bit on display. “I guess I should get some curtains for the cabin, huh? I don’t understand why the chick who stayed here before me didn’t want to shut Peeping Tim out.”

  Rooster and Gunner exchanged a quick look that wasn’t lost on me. Finally, Rooster cleared his throat and forced a smile. “I’ll make sure we get curtains here
tomorrow no matter what.”

  “Oh, that’s no fun,” Tim complained. “What am I going to do if she gets curtains? That means everyone in town will have closed me out.”

  “You could always not peep,” Gunner suggested.

  “Who wants to live a life that doesn’t include peeping?”

  “Since I can’t answer that question, I’m going to move on,” Gunner replied, shifting closer to the heap of flesh on the ground and hunkering down. “We need to talk about what happened here. That’s much more interesting than the colliding spells and perverted ghost.”

  That was a matter of opinion, but from his perspective I could see why he believed it. “I can’t be sure, but right before I hit it with the magic I think I saw its eyes. They were white — like milky white — and they were tinged with red. It reminds me of this horror movie I saw a long time ago ... and that movie didn’t exactly have a happy ending.”

  Rooster snorted as he affixed the last piece of tape to my bandage and then stood, extending a hand to pull me to my feet. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that we’re dealing with a garden variety zombie.”

  My stomach twisted. “You say that in a blasé way. Down in the city, a zombie outbreak is pretty much the worst thing we have to deal with.”

  “That’s because everyone is on top of each other,” Rooster replied without hesitation. “Up here, it’s not great but it’s not as bad either. We can usually nip these things in the bud before they get out of control thanks to the distance between houses. We never lose more than a few people to an outbreak.”

  That was something of a relief. Still ... . “I could feel a shallow heartbeat,” I offered, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t think it was a zombie.”

  “It looks like a zombie,” Rooster argued.

  “It’s not,” Gunner said, dusting off his hands as he stood. “She’s right. It’s slightly different. I think it has a lot in common with a zombie, but it’s definitely something different.”

 

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