1
“Sweet motherfucking hell,aim for the kneecaps,” Iscreamed.
“Does it have kneecaps?” Travis asked as he swung the neon green bat, but the giant, gray blob rolled to the right, knocking over the end table. The two porcelain angels held onto each other for dear life at the base of the antique lamp as it crashed to the ground. Their cherubic features shattered beyondrecognition.
A slimy blob, theheightof a Great Dane, careened toward me. I jumped onto the upholstered armchair. The stilettos on my knee-high boots audibly ripped through the chair’spale-yellowcushion.
“I don’t know but a knife through the heart didn’t work,” I said. The blob bumped into the chair and then rolled in a different direction, just like an evil Roomba.
Travis panted on the other side of the living room,his black shirt darkened with sweat. “I don’t think it has a heart either,Krystan.”
I tilted my bat to him. “Right, heartless demon blob. Fair point.”
A thin, spray-tanned face withgarish tangerinelipstick popped out from the kitchen. “I thought you two were professionals?”
I took another swipe at the beast and grunted. “Weareprofessionals.”
Travis twisted around to face our client. “Mrs. Keen, I assure you wehavethe situation under control. It would be much safer if you waited outside.”
Mrs. Keen wasn’t listening, her eyes were glued to the shattered lamp on the ground. I knew that look. She was thinking she should have gone with another company to take care of her “infestation.”
If she even thought about not paying us, I might take my bat—I’dcleverlynamedBatman— to her head.
“Travis,” I yelled. The blob hurdled toward my partner and if it touched his skin, he’d be a goner like Mr. Skittles, the Keen’s family cat.
Travis whipped around,hismouth opened and closed like a guppy’s when he realized how quickly the blob was closing in on him.
According to Mrs. Keen, the blob had instantly turned theircat into a gelatinous masson contact,then slurpeditup. I wondered if the suburban housewifehad beenhigh when she saw it happen because I’d yet to see a mouth on this clay-like ball.
Travis scuttled right back into a corner. If he tried for the kitchen, he’d lead the creature right to Mrs. Keen who was about as dumb as this evil blob. Unfortunately, she was not as fast. Travis was trapped. Again.
I leapt off the chair, ready to sail through the air with my nail-riddled bat to pound on the demonic beast like a majestic fucking superhero. At the last second, mystilettoscaught in the chair fabric and instead of sailing forward, I was slammed, face-first into the ground. Pain exploded across my cheek andthe impact was like amulekicking me in the chestwith both legs.
I groaned. At least, I hadn’t landed onBatman. Pushing myself up to my knees as fast as I could, I found I had at least drawn the attention of the blob with my fantastic crash landing.I had the perfect view of its swollen,bubbling skin now rolling back toward me.
Travis smacked the side of the creaturewith his bat, the thwap sounded like he was beating up a bean bag. He changed the blob’s trajectory,but like the last fifteen swipes, the beating didn’t seem to hurt or slow it down.
Travis grabbed my hand and yanked me up to his chest.Iwasnowinches away from his face, his green eyes boreinto minewith more concern than I was comfortable with.He used to have a round, ruddy face. While he was flushed,the blush no longer made his face appear like a flustered child. His cheeks had considerablyhollowed,bringing more attention to his strong straight nose.
The heat from his chest radiatedonto mine and his breath puffed over my face. I expected him to smell like Cheetos and weed, but instead my senses were met with whatever spring-fresh body wash he’d used this morning, and the coffee we’d slammed back in the van. The mixture of scents wasn’t entirely repulsive. In fact, it was a scent that belonged to a virilecapableman. NotTravis. Ileaned in a little closer, telling myself it was to regain my balanceeven as I breathed in deeply.
“We should have brought the flame thrower,” he said, his eyesdropping down to lookat my lipsforhalf a second.
I jerked my hand out of his and backed away from his warmth and deliciousman-smell, tightening my grasp onBatman, watching the blob knock against the far wall before rolling back toward us. “Yeah, the Keens would love it if we burned down their house.”
“What?” A screech came from the kitchen. BehindMrs. Keen, Mr. Keenwasattempting to cajole his wifeto join him back outside and let us do our job.
I shot Travis a look filled with daggers.Travisshrugged, his cheeks reddeningto a crimson shade. My moment of brief burning attraction to him was washed away by his stupid.
We jumped over the couch to avoid the blob which seemed to be satisfied acting like a pinball, bouncing around the living room against various furniture pieces.
“I mean, I can distract it while you go get the swords,” I suggested. “Maybe stabbing it is the way to go rather than blunt force?”
Travis shook his head. “If those nails jutting out of your bat aren’t doing the trick, I don’t think a sword is going to help.”
“Well, what the hellisgoing to help, dingus?” I laidBatmanover my left shoulder, angling the nails away from my head.Batmanwasn’t the problem.Batman was always there ready with a solution.
Travisshot me an annoyed look, his eyes glittering with irritation. “You always do this. You always act likeIshould know how to handle everything, when really, you’re just covering up the fact that you have no idea what to do. It’s not fair.”
