“Good.”
Chapter 5 Hayride
Scythe slams the gavel down and roars for everyone to shut the fuck up. “Church is in session, fuckers. We’ve got business to discuss.”
It’s the first chance we’ve had to talk about everything since the meeting at the Mystic Emporium and Thad Scott. The fact that we’ve had a murder and a tourist disappear in less than two days is enough to put the whole club on edge.
Mountain clears his throat. “Tourists came in yesterday for the historic haunted hotel tour at the Mayfield. A woman named Natalya Scott and her brother Thad. He’s the one who disappeared last night before the tour ended.”
Scythe ticks his chin toward me. “What did you learn about her other than she likes to snap photos of my fucking club members and their bikes?”
A few brows rise around the room. Someone mutters a quick, “Fuck.”
Scarecrow frowns. As our enforcer, he doesn’t like anything that poses a threat against the club. I can see him getting visibly agitated.
Before I can answer Scythe, Phantom speaks up.
“Saw her plenty last night when I kept popping in and out of the rooms.” His grin is fucking annoying. “Spooked her and a few others to keep up interest in the Mayfield and the tourists coming back.”
Yeah, the asshole loves this shit. He thinks it’s hilarious. “I thought it was you,” I mutter.
He slaps my back. “What? You think ghosts are real?”
“We’re cursed to share our souls with scarecrows. That’s a bit freaky,” I remind him with a growl, irritated, and not sure why. Maybe because it scared Nat. I can’t stop thinking about her orthe devastation on her face when she spoke to me about Thad. “Natalya is worried about her brother. She’s not from here. She doesn’t understand what we are or how we protect the town.”
Scythe tilts his head, and he studies me. “Tell me what she is to you.”
That command has everyone staring, and I shrug. “Don’t know.”
“But you feel protective of her, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I admit. I don’t know what it is that has me feeling a pull toward her, but it’s strong.
Voodoo howls with laughter and begins to chant, “Another one bites the dust.”
I flip him off, not that it makes him stop.
Mountain and Scythe both have ol’ ladies, while the rest of us don’t. Voodoo swears he’ll never settle down and doesn’t want an anchor around his neck.
Me? I’ve never thought about it. Until now.
Scythe taps his fingers on the table. He does that when he’s restless or agitated. “You believe Natalya.”
“I do,” I confirm. “She’s got no reason to lie about her brother. I know they’re outsiders, but she’s not here to stir up trouble. The siblings came for a good time. Nothing else, Pres.”
“So you say,” Scarecrow grumbles. “I don’t like it, Pres. The Scotts show up just when we find a dead body, and one of them disappears. It’s fucked up.”
“I agree,” Charon, our cleaner, chimes in. “Should have seen how torn up the body was once I got to it. Mangled beyond recognition. We’re dealing with someone who has experience with a knife and rage issues.”
“Not a good combo,” Mountain adds.
“I’m planning to take Nat back to the Mayfield tonight after the Fear Farm closes. She told me the tour guide saw her brotherleave. I want to talk to the guide and see if I can find anything else out.”
“Good. Put a prospect on the hotel.”
“I’d like one where Nat is staying, too. She’s at The Hanging Tree.”
“Do it.”
