“Shit,” he mutters. “Okay, sure. I’ll help.”
“Free lunch at the diner for a month, and I’ll owe you,” I tell him. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
I end the call and refresh my grip on the wheel. I can still see the look on Marlowe’s face when she knelt beside the two horses. Their deaths were quick, and there was no devouring of the bodies. Could have been worse, I guess. Still, it’s a tragedy, one she won’t get over anytime soon. And it sucks worse because it’s so soon after Lou’s death.
“When will this woman get a fucking break?” I mutter.
I roll down the truck windows and breathe in the wild air of the sea. This drive is a short reprieve before I get to the diner and begin the tornado of cooking, brewing, seating, and serving that will occupy the next ten hours or so. Not to mention the cleanup and stuff after we close, although I might be able to get Tae and the servers to do most of that so I can get back to Marlowe—
I slam down the brake pedal. I took the curve too fast and there’s somebody in the road.
My tires grind to a halt a couple feet from them. Way too close for comfort.
I almost caused another tragedy.
My heart thunders in my chest, and my fingers are trembling. I shove open the door of the truck and hop down. “Hey! You okay? What the hell?”
The woman I almost hit is pale as death. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been walking in the middle of the road. There was so little traffic that I got careless.”
“I could have killed you.” I rub my forehead and take a deep breath. “Shit, that scared me. Where are you headed?”
“I’m visiting the area for a music festival. Staying in Crescent Cove, at the inn. I thought I’d get up early and enjoy a seaside walk before all the activities start.”
“Okay.” I blow out another breath, trying to calm my pounding pulse. “You wanna hop in? I’m headed to work at the diner in town. I’ll get you a cup of coffee on the house.”
“Really?” Her face brightens.
“It’s the least I can do after I almost killed you.”
“Oh my god, thank you! As long as you’re not some kind of serial killer.” She hesitates, her smile tinged with caution.
“I don’t have the energy for that line of work.” I circle around to the passenger side and open the door for her.
“Such a gentleman. Too thoughtful for your own good.” She approaches, smiling. “I can see why she likes you.”
Her teeth… they’re much too long, much too sharp. Reaching past me, she slams the passenger door with a force that warps the frame of the truck.
Supernatural strength. Horse power. “You’re Marlowe’s sister.”
“Good to see you again, Fisherman. You’re coming with me, and there are two ways we can do this—the boring way, or the fun way.”
“How about the boring way? I’ve been told I’m not much fun.” I lean casually against the damaged truck with one arm, inching my other hand toward the pocket with my phone.
Her hand shoots out, clamping around my wrist so tightly I grunt with pain. “Sneaky, are we? Alrighty then. The fun way it is.”
12
I text Rick a few times to keep him updated on the transport of the deceased horses and the progress of the protective wards around the property, but he doesn’t reply. Too busy, I guess. He won’t have a second to breathe until the end of the day, and by then he’ll be exhausted.
Is it selfish to hope that he’ll still come out to my place, even if he’s tired? Probably. Am I becoming dependent on him much too quickly? Yeah. But at the moment, I don’t really care. I’m a tough girl. I’ve been strong for years, and I’ll be strong again later. For now, when my heart feels like it’s missing some pretty vital chunks, I’m not going to guilt myself for leaning on the broad shoulder of Rick Thane when it’s available.
His witch friend Jareth is a delight. I’ve seen him in town, just in passing, but I’ve never really spoken to him. Rick didn’t tell him much about the situation, but over the course of the day I find myself confessing more and more, until I reveal everything. Jareth needs the information anyway, in order to cast effective protection spells around the house and stables.
These wards are not as extensive and durable as the ones around Crescent Cove. They’ll only last a few weeks, and they can’t keep out everything, but they’re strong enough to repel my sister if she comes around again within the next month. And really, that’s all I need.
Shortly after eight, Jareth walks toward me where I’m standing by the fence, watching Atreides graze. I was afraid the tragedy of last night would set him back, but oddly enough, he seems fine. More comfortable than ever, actually. Maybe Rick’s presence this morning reassured him that even when bad things happen, someone who cares will be there to help.
