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“Stay right behind us or I swear to God I will tan your hide when we’re done here,” I growl as I pull out my gun and check the chamber.
“Roger that.” Wicked smiles tightly before another scream sounds from down the street and her already pale features fade to a ghostly white.
The neighborhood itself looks like it was once a very nice place to live, until it wasn’t. Now the sidewalks are cracked and every house in sight looks almost unlivable, though I know there have to be some residents in the area. Just probably not the kind that will risk their own safety to answer a woman’s screams. No. They’ll just hide away in their homes and pretend like nothing is happening.
We quickly hustle down the street before reaching the red-brick home Wicked described to us. Hunching down in a crouch, I pull Wicked with us as I scan the area, not seeing any movement in the open windows.
“How many exits?” I ask her with an urgent tone as another scream cuts off suddenly.
“One back door, one front, and one off the side of the garage.” She responds quickly as her hands tighten over her cane.
“Kai, take the garage, Ezra around back, and I’ll go in through the front with Izabella. Don’t make any noise, and keep an ear out. We can’t let this fucker know we’re coming.” Checking my gun one last time, I pull Wicked with me as I shuffle to the door, the guys already hustling off to follow my orders. I stay low, peeking through the windows every once in a while and waiting for something to change, but nothing does.
Wicked grips the back of my suit jacket tightly, following my every step as the raccoons follow hers. She doesn’t even stumble when we reach the stairs leading up to the front porch, like she’s all too aware of where she’s going and where she’s at.
I step lightly, cursing when the porch boards creak under the weight of our feet, but luckily the screams don’t stop. I keep going, reaching the front door in no time at all with Wicked right behind me. I gently try the door handle, but just as I predicted, it’s locked. I check the windows beside the front door, finding them locked as well. Just as I’m about to say fuck it and kick the door down, going in guns blazing, Wicked coughs in an amused way.
“What?” I hiss out as I spin on her where she crouches by the front door, leaning against the wall beside it.
“Why don’t you stand aside and let me show you how it’s done.” She grins as she whispers the words before letting out a short whistle. Gizmo–or Snitch–scrambles into her arms and she holds the fucker up to the doorknob before whistling once more.
I stare in shock as the little fucker wiggles his little raccoon fingers into the keyhole of the door and shuffles his arms for a bit before squeaking. She gives him a head scratch, then holds him higher, repeating the process on the deadbolt. He squeaks again after another few moments and she snuggles him into her chest, whispering to him, before placing him back on the ground.
I’m still frozen in silence as she stands and slowly turns the knob before cracking the door open gently, listening intently for any sign of us being caught.
The little hairballs can pick locks?
Snapping out of my shock, I push forward, stopping her from going in further before I do.
“Thank you,” She says snidely and I stop to face her. “That’s what you’re supposed to say when someone helps you, you know. Just because you’re an asshole doesn’t mean you don’t have to have basic manners.”
“¡Dios mío!” My hands tighten around my gun, but I breathe deeply to try and calm myself. “Thank you,” I bite out, grinding my teeth as a headache begins pounding behind my temples.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She giggles softly as her hands once more find the back of my shirt, my pulse picking up as the weight of her hands press into my spine.
“Shut up.”
I push the door open carefully, scanning the living room to our left and seeing nothing past the stairs leading up. An archway stands to our right leading to a dining room and kitchen, but I can’t see anything else from where we’re standing. Listening carefully, I step into the entryway and shuffle Wicked behind me as I point my gun down the hall straight ahead and then into the dining room.
There’s a flash of movement around a corner at the end of the hall and I push Wicked into the dining room and hold her against the wall with one hand as I focus on where it disappeared. I purse my lips and let out a bird tweet as softly and quietly as possible. The sound would probably never register to anyone else, but when I get an answering tweet back, I relax my hold on Wicked and my gun slightly.
Kai peers around the corner and gestures with his hand. He hasn’t seen anything either, and Ezra is now with him. He gestures again and I join Wicked by the wall, pressing my mouth close to her ear.
“Is there a basement?” I whisper and she nods.
“Yeah, but I’ve never been down there. It was my dad’s workshop. He said it was too dangerous for me.”
Another scream surfaces through the house and my spine snaps straight. That’s definitely coming from below us. “Where’s the door to get down there?”
“Around the corner down the hall. Across from the back door,” she says quickly, her chest rising and falling in quick panicked breaths.
“Do you know anything about the layout?”
“I said I’ve never been down there!” She snaps quietly before her mouth twists in thought. “But the stairs lead straight to a wall that opens up to your right. That’s all I know.” She gulps as another anguished wail fills the space. I stroke her hair behind her ear gently before peeking around the corner once more and making quick gestures with my free hand.
Kai answers with his own and I pull Wicked’s hands and position them at my back once more before slowly creeping down the hall towards him. When I round the corner, Kai and Ezra position themselves by the door that must lead to the basement, their eyes quickly raking over Wicked, checking she’s in one piece. As if I would have it any other way.
I nod at Ezra and he slowly turns the doorknob and pulls the door open. It creaks when it reaches a certain point and we all freeze in place, waiting to see if anything happens. When nothing does, he continues opening it the rest of the way, allowing us to peer down. The stairs are formed by old style wooden slats and at the bottom is concrete flooring that leads to the right, just like Wicked said. There’s a soft glow emanating in the darkness, and a shadow shifts for a moment before it goes quiet.
