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“I’m docking your pay for that bullshit.” Grabbing my satchel that was leaning up against a gravestone, I pulled it over my head and rested the strap on my shoulder. “Nog,” I called, and he glanced in my direction. I tossed him the keys to the truck so he could get himself home. “Get this cleaned up and put the body back.Nicely.”
“Wait, you aren’t staying?”
Shaking my head, I wiped my hands on my jeans and showed him, palms facing out. “You spent most of the night talking. When your calluses look like mine, I’ll stick around to help you clean up.”
He griped, but I outranked him and he knew if he argued, he’d lose.
I started walking away, sensing that Clara was close on my heels. “So what’s really up?” she asked casually, keeping pace with me as we made our way to her truck.
“You know how I feel about working on a full moon. I just want to get home.”
“Do you sense any danger?”
My animal lightly stirred inside me.
I sighed. The loose connection between us was hard to read. We both felt uneasy, but not in the way my cousin was suggesting. “You know she doesn’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have left your brother back there by himself.”
“What exactly is it, then? Yeah, you hate working on full moons, but you’ve never said the specifics as to why.”
When we got to her truck, I turned to her and held my hands out for her keys. The corner of her lips tilted down, and she reluctantly gave them to me.
“We dig up the dead and piss off spirits in the middle of the night, Clara. Story after story will tell you that nothing good happens on a full moon.”
She smiled softly. “But look? All that worry for nothing. We’re done now, and all is well.”
I hummed noncommittally. She could be optimistic, but I had a feeling tonight wasn’t going to be any different.
Narrator: it was actually worse.
Chapter2
Reagan
We weren’t home for ten minutes before my cousin started grilling me. She’d spent the car ride practically burning a hole in the side of my face as she glared at me, trying to get a read. Apparently it worked.
“You’re not still seeing Ben, are you?” Clara asked knowingly.
Damn her. She had terrible foresight ninety percent of the time, but her ability to sniff out my lies was unusually good.
“Weren’t you going out with Crowley tonight?” I smeared peanut butter on some crackers and refused to meet her accusatory stare. Stuffing one in my mouth, I chewed and wished she would leave me alone.
“I cancelled them when I thought you might be lying about your plans for the night.” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.
“You know I’m an adult, right? I can see whoever I want and do what I want in my free time.” The words were slightly muffled, and tiny crumbs flew out of my mouth.
“You could do better than that backwoods shifter, Reagan.”
I swallowed, and let out an exasperated sigh, turning to face her. “I’ma backwoods shifter, Clara. I live here, too, and in case you don’t remember, my animal lives inside me but can’t come out. I’m part witch with no real access to any threads of magic beyond your basic parlor tricks. I have strength, healing, and thank the gods I’m smart because that’s all I have to offer in a world that values supernatural power, so please remind me why you think I can do better than basically everyone I’ve ever met.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she continued.
“Then what do you mean, hmm?”
“I mean you could do better than Ben Flowers. It’s not about being from The Crossroads or what powers he has, or you for that matter. I just don’t trust him.”
“Look, it’s not like I have plans to settle down.”
“So you are seeing him?” She narrowed her eyes.
