that leaves no room to hide from the reality of death.
At Kellen’s direction, we take seats at the front of the receiving area and don somber expressions of grief.
Tobias nudges me. “Turn your shirt inside out.”
I stare at him in confusion. “What?”
He nods to the sharpied-on words. “You don’t want them to remember your bakery.”
I yank my shirt off, ignoring Philip’s appreciative leer, and quickly flip it inside out. The black sharpie still shows through on the reverse side, though, and I glance at Tobias in frustration.
“Just put it on backward and make sure the police don’t see your back,” he instructs as he dials a number.
Nodding, I pull it back on, the collar cutting into my throat and my boobs squished from the lack of extra fabric in the right place.
That’s it. Gift be damned. This is the last time I wear these clothes. They’re all going into the trash when I get home.
With everyone in their places, Kellen pushes through the door and into the foyer.
Tobias holds the phone to his ear, his frown deepening as it continues to ring.
Even without super hearing, I catch the switch over to an answering machine.
With a scowl, he hangs up and hits redial.
From out in the foyer, Kellen’s voice rises and falls as he talks to the police. By the sound of it, they’re not buying the story of our late-night service.
Did Kellen not shut off the alarm fast enough? Or did one of the neighbors call in a disturbance? Despite the hour, it hadn’t looked like the neighbors were home, all of the lights in their house shut off. But maybe someone across the street saw us pulling around to the back?
Tobias hangs up again and redials.
“What do we do if we can’t get the funeral director here?” Philip whispers, trepidation clear in his voice.
“Hope the whammy works.” Julian casts me a concerned look. “I hope you’ve been practicing.”
I haven’t. Not since our battle with the Dreamer. With a stable, readily available food source, I don’t need to befuddle human minds. I’ve become too complacent, focusing on other things I deemed more important.
Once this is over, I need to force myself into Succubus Boot Camp. The damn book I got from the Librarian will only get me so far, though. I need to find someone willing to help, since Landon’s never been any good, and Julian believes in self-education.
Grim determination fills Julian’s voice. “If the whammy doesn’t work, we’ll have to take them out.”
The sound of conversation grows louder as Tobias angrily hangs up once more. “They’re not answering.”
I grab Julian’s wrist. “No killing.”
His expression hardens. “The other option is being under a second investigation.”
Heart in my throat, I stare at the door as it begins to swing inward. We’re out of time.
Kellen’s voice precedes them. “As I said, you’ll be interrupting a time of mourning by coming in here. Can’t you wait until after the service?”
“We don’t have time to waste waiting for a body to burn,” comes the callus reply.
Kellen appears, his lightning-kissed eyes seeking out Tobias, who shakes his head before tucking his phone away.
For a moment, Kellen’s body blocks us from the police officers’ view, and Philip springs from his seat, rushing across the room.
We all look at him in surprise as he lifts his hands, his back to the door.
His voice resonates around the room. “Donald was a quiet man, without a lot of friends, but the few he had, he held dear to his heart.”
As he continues his sermon, his face softens, his cheeks losing their youthful roundness as they sag and wrinkle. His eyes lighten to denim-blue, his hair to salt-and-pepper, and his posture hunches. Blue veins blossom under his paper-thin skin, and a fine tremor shakes his uplifted arms. While his clothes remain the same, they now sag on his form, and I mentally thank whatever divinity had Philip wear a suit today when he usually favors jeans.
He cuts off as he turns and gives a convincing start when he spots the two police officers standing in the doorway. He raises a wrinkled hand to his heart. “My, you startled me, young men. Is there something you need? We’re in the middle of a service.”
“My apologies, sir.” The officer in front pulls off his hat and casts an apologetic look toward those of us who remain seated. “We had a call about a potential burglary. We needed to check it out.”
“As you can see, there’s no burglary here, though your welcome to