Mephitic (Anathema #2) - Yolanda Olson Page 0,4

if she wants to let you sleep over for a few days."

"You…" Ichabod licks his lips. "You'd let me stay with Bea?" I can tell he doesn't believe me—which would be the smart thing to do. But hope is a bitch. "You'd let me go?"

"Don't get your dick hard for nothing. I said for a few days, and that's only if you don't act like a kicked puppy right now. Got it?" Jabbing out the cigarette, I stretch my back and walk over to the couch to drag the hatchet out from under it. If the blonde bitch had been crafty enough, she might have had a chance to defend herself and make the show a little more entertaining, but it’s fine. I have a feeling Daphne is going to be plenty of entertainment.

Ichabod nods, helping the kid off the floor, and I ignore their whispers again as Daphne comes back into the living room looking almost good as new. Her shirt is a mess, and I point at it.

"Change your shirt, Red." I swing the hatchet up onto my shoulder as she slides the knife back into her backpack and pulls out a clean shirt. When she takes her bloody shirt off in the middle of the living room, I grin and wave a hand at her, glancing over at Ichabod and the kid. "She's not shy, is she?"

Neither of them is paying attention to the half-naked girl, which I expected from Ichabod, but the fact that the kid is still staring at the dead girl instead of the living one just has me rubbing my forehead.

"You sure I stuck my dick in your mom?" I ask and he rounds on me, glaring as I chuckle again. "Just asking, kid."

"Ready," Daphne says cheerfully, pulling the backpack on her shoulders, and I wonder if I picked up a schoolgirl outfit if she'd put it on for the drive. Toss that red hair in pig tails, get some fresh blood spatter on the white button down—it could be fun.

Plenty of ways to avoid boredom on the drive to find Trixie.

Heading past them into the kitchen, I grab a carton of cigarettes from the freezer and a spare lighter from a drawer, tucking the carton under my arm as I move back into the living room and tilt my head toward the front door. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

He's staring at Ichabod, and I snap the fingers on the hand not holding the hatchet—which usually keeps people's attention focused squarely on me, as it should be, but doesn’t seem to be working as well today.

"Did you know that—" the kid starts to talk, and I groan.

"If you're going to be all chatty the entire drive, this is going to be miserable. Shut up and get outside." Nodding at Red, I go and hold the front door open, snagging my keys and jingling them like I'm trying to get the attention of a pack of rabid toddlers. "Time is ticking."

Ichabod nudges the boy forward, and I grin at him as Red and the kid walk out the front door. He taps one of his shoes on the floor beside the steadily spreading pool of blood, staring down for a moment before he finds his balls again and looks up at me. "Promise me I'll get to see Bea, Lakyn."

"Don't I always keep my word?" I reply, winking at him as I point at the body with the hatchet. "Make sure you handle that, or it's going to suck in here in a day or two."

Slamming the door before Ichabod can start to get emotional over me leaving, I walk out into the sunlight, whistling to myself as I watch the kid dig out a pair of duffel bags from the back of the SUV. I’m about to toss my shit in my car, when I look over at the SUV and grin. Why should I put the miles on my car when the kid has something shiny and new.

Heading across the road, I shove my keys in my pocket and grin when the kid freezes near the open back. “We’ll take your car. It’s spacious, better for road trips. Keys?”

I hold out my hand and he grinds his teeth for a few seconds, but I’m not above breaking a few of them if it means he won’t waste any more of my time. Lucky for him, he digs them out and shoves them into my hand with a muttered phrase I don’t bother