Call of Water (Madame Tan's Freakshow #1) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,54

from my bare legs.

“Come.” Taking my hand, he crossed the road quickly when there were no cars in sight.

Instead of going to one of the Bed and Breakfasts, Zeph turned into a side street, taking us away from the road and out of sight of the passing vehicles.

The lights in one of the houses ahead of us, a cute brick bungalow with green window trim, went off all at once.

Zeph stopped, staring at it. “Why do you think that happened?”

“It’s late.” I shrugged, taking my hand from his to wrap my arms around me again. “People went to bed and turned their lights off.”

“In all the rooms at once?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they have a master switch, like they have in hotels. Or maybe...” I took a few steps toward the house. Could the lights be on a timer? “Do you think they’re away on vacation or something?”

This very well could be someone’s summer home, too. They were common in this area. The owners would spend winters somewhere warmer, coming here for summers only.

Zeph headed to the house in long determined strides.

“That would be breaking and entering.” I hurried after him, guessing his intentions. “Which is a real crime, punishable by law.”

“I’m willing to take the risk.” He slid into the shadows of a cedar hedge around the bungalow. “We need a place to warm you up.”

We could also use some clothes for him. The cold might not be affecting Zeph, but the sight of him nearly naked would definitely raise questions if we tried to hitchhike with him dressed the way he was.

I had to agree with Zeph, finding a place to rest, some clothes, and maybe even some food would be ideal. Getting caught while doing that, though, would be horrible.

I glanced at the mailbox in front of the property. It was stuffed with papers. Sneaking closer, I took a few out, sorting through the papers quickly. No letters or magazines, just flyers, dating back several weeks.

“A summer property, most likely.” I rushed back to Zeph, who already was on his way around the corner to the backyard.

I caught up with him at the back door.

“Careful,” I pointed at the sticker of an alarm company on the glass as he grabbed the door handle. “They have an alarm system. And it’s most likely armed since they’re away.”

He lingered, considering my words. “I could short-circuit the power to the house by sending water along the line.”

“I believe an alarm system has a backup battery. It’ll still work, even during a power outage.” Besides, causing serious damages to people’s property didn’t sit well with me, despite our dire situation.

He let go of the handle, taking a look around the yard. “The garage then?”

I followed his gaze to a small brick building nearby. “It’s detached. They might have decided to skip getting the alarm system for it.”

We ran to the back door of the garage. “Well, no security company stickers here.” I inspected the small window in the door. “That doesn’t mean, though—”

The sound of broken glass stopped me mid-sentence. His hand wrapped in the end of his loin cloth, Zeph smashed through the window. I pulled my head into my shoulders, half-expecting the sound of an alarm to blare any moment. Thankfully, nothing happened.

He stuck his hand through the hole and unlocked the deadbolt.

“Come.” He opened the door.

Chapter 19

“WELL, THAT WAS LUCKY,” I said quietly.

The small space was unheated, but it already felt warmer simply being out of the wind.

“Lucky would have been finding a vehicle, some food, and warm clothes in here,” Zeph muttered, swiftly moving around the place in search of the things he had listed.

There were no vehicles parked in the garage. Whoever owned this place must have taken a road trip. Or maybe, they never kept cars at their summer property.

“No food,” Zeph concluded, rummaging through the shelves and inside a large metal tool cabinet.

“But there are some clothes.” I spotted a few hooks on the wall as my eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside.

A hunting jacket and a grey sweatshirt hung on the hooks. A pair of waders, tall rubber boots, and some old running shoes lined up on the floor below. All seemed to belong to a man.

“And shoes, too. Look, Zeph.” I lifted the pair of runners to show him when he came closer.

Grabbing the sweatshirt off the hook next, I slid it over his head. It fit him well with just enough space for his wide shoulders, the sleeves covering the