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“Don’t kill anyone else, Zia. I’m serious. If you get caught, we’re both fucked.”
“Okay!”“What else do you need?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to find someone…”
“Someone who? Why? You didn’t go up there to find people, you went up there to hide.”
Think, Zia. If you tell him the truth, he’ll get mad. He doesn’t want you killing people, so stalking people probably isn’t good either. So what the hell kind of excuse can I give him that’ll make him help me?
“I found a potential job.”
“You did?” He sounds skeptical.
“Yes, at a recording studio. And the guy told me to meet him there, but then I accidentally deleted the email and can’t find it. I don’t want to send him another message and look like an idiot, so I’m just trying to find out where he’s at so I can go there.”
“When is the interview?”
Interview? What is an interview?
I say the first thing I can think of.
“Two days?”
He sighs. “I’ll have someone up there to help you first thing in the morning. Make sure your phone is on and fully charged, so I can ping it to find your location.”
“Thanks, bro. You’re the best! Love you.”
I end the call as quickly as I can.
Someone shows up at the house just as the sun is up. I peek through the little hole on the door and see someone who is most definitely a demon. He looks way too angry to be human. He’s also really big and scary looking, and that’s usually what the male demons look like. Even though he looks weird through this little hole, I can tell he’s tall. Muscular too. There are lots of tattoos up and down his arms. He even has a few on the side of his face. His hair is dark and short. The most telling thing, though, is the upside down cross necklace he’s wearing. Yep, definitely a demon. I unlock the door and step aside, giving him a happy smile.
“You Azizia?” he grunts.
“That’s me,” I say, still smiling.
He pushes past me and stops in the middle of the living room to look around. He raises his nose into the air, sniffs deeply, then lets out a satisfied groan that has me clenching the handle of the door.
Ew. Does he enjoy the scent of death? Even as demons, we don’t like the smell of rotting flesh. It’s pungent and overwhelming. And it gets stuck in your nose for way too long.
He moves toward the bathroom, clearly knowing exactly what he’s doing.
He pulls the door of the bathroom open, and I expect some kind of reaction, but all he does is stand there, his large body taking up the whole doorway so I can’t see how bad it is. After day three, I shut the door and haven’t been back in there since. Thankfully, there’s another bathroom in the big bedroom that has everything I need in it.
The guy closes the door, then turns toward me, but it’s as if he sees right through me. He walks out the door, goes to a large truck, rummages around for something, then comes back with a roll of black trash bags, and a bucket full of cleaning supplies.
When he reaches me again, he looks down at me and says, “Go around back, make sure the hose is connected, water is turned on, and meet me at the bathroom window.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, just goes back to the bathroom and gets to work.
I close the house door, then hurry around the back to look for this hose thing he’s talking about.
When I spot it, I know exactly what it is. Something about the green tube that’s coiled into a circle that looks like a giant snake has a fuzzy memory triggering, reminding me what a hose is. It’s already hooked up to a spout, so I turn it, then find the end of the hose and press the button. I grin when the water squirts out.
Fancy stuff these humans have up here.
I let go of the button and the water stops.
Like magic.
