“Neither do I,” her mother answers with a guy’s voice.
She’s doubled up on a Sumter Community College student. He looks about twenty, brown hair, freaky yellow eyes—might be contacts—and a stocky body that probably knows it’s way around a gym. His name is Eric.
“Another three hours until sunset. How much longer after that are we going to wait?”
When Eric smiles, dimples pop on both cheeks. The All-American face definitely does not depict the murky creature dwelling beneath.
“I’m leaving soon,” Eric says. You’re hangin’ here until I text, and only if there’s a selfie of Jane attached.”
“What if Vuur kills Jane before you get there?” I ask.
“He won’t kill Jane,” Eric’s double says. “I’ll be dressed in her double before Vuur gets back from Purgatory, and the real Jane will be here, with you and my daughter. I’ve taken care of that. In fact my ride should be arriving any moment. I’ve commissioned two berserker friends to help.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask. “Do you have a plan in case Vuur gets to Jane before you get there?”
“The doppelganger is still in Purgatory.” She raises Eric’s cell phone. “These things are amazing. Who would’ve known?” Luna’s mother laughs. “The doppelganger told one of the berserkers that he will proposition Jane later this evening. Only it will be me on Jane’s corner tonight. And I feel quite confident he will hold her hostage until Luna show ups. My daughter’s destruction is his ultimate goal.”
“I’ll be with Luna, tonight,” I say.
“I’m sure Vuur is counting on it,” Eric says in the same tone Luna’s mother uses.
“Do you mean the dragon-shifter is still alive?”
“I don’t think so. I was speaking of my brethren under the dragon-shifter’s skin. But I wouldn’t put it past your assassin to have worked a deal with the dark doppelganger for his life.”
The thought is disturbing. Then there would be two of them, the real Vuur and the carbon. I would have to deal with two of the beasts, and I couldn’t kill one the first time. I bit him during that fight in Michigan, and I’d never run across any Down Under creature that is immune to my poison. To think that in less than a month, I’ve run into two. It makes me uncomfortable.
A flash of reflected sunlight glides across the tiled floor. I glance down the hall at the back of the kitchen as Luna steps through; Nan probably follows. Not being able to hear or see the ghost is unnerving.
“This wait is killing us,” Luna says.
She’s wearing a patch of bright colored cloth across her chest with leather straps attached to cinch it to her neck and around her back. Low cut jeans sit several inches below the halter top and show off a tight tummy and gold navel ring. Her leather belt is hand tooled and threaded with bright colored beads that depict a rainbow sunset in the middle of her back. She’s barefoot but there is a pair of leather thong sandals by the French door. I want to scoop her up and swallow her whole.
“Me, too,” I say, “but your mother is not leaving until nine, and through Eric has made it very clear we’re not to move until she lets us know she’s wearing Jane and standing on the corner of OBT.”
“That’s because it’s the smart thing to do,” Luna says and then surprises the beast in me when she gifts Mommy Dearest with a lovely Gracie-smile.
So why am I pretty damn sure there is a surfeit of unpleasant surprises hidden beneath her words?
Gracie
There are at least fifty ghosts floating all over the house. I’m going nuts with their constant chatter. Hands over my ears, and for the umpteenth time, I tell Gaire, “Because Nan said they can watch Jane and if something happens here, she’ll send one of the ghosts to warn us. Nan is covering bases in case the doppelganger shows up for Jane.”
“Why are you shouting?” Gaire laughs and exaggerates a glance around the room. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Okay, so I heard Eric tell you they’re here. One more smartass remark, and I’m gonna spell your ass into the next millennium. I have the power. Don’t make me use it.”
“You don’t have any power,” Gaire teases. “Gracie’s grandmother does, and Nan is nurturing it.”
Damn him. He’s about to burst with laughter.
“Shut up!” I scream at the ghosts. And blessedly they do as Nan herds them into the kitchen.
The screen door squeaks open seconds before the knocker on the front door bangs.
As I walk toward the door, ghosts swarm me like a pack of blind mosquitoes in spring. Gaire watches me duck and jab, and he chuckles. He can’t hear Nan shouting for the spirits to return and chuckles.
I swing wildly and only manage to slice, dice, and mix body parts into a tornado that flutters everything in its path, including Gracie’s hair which is now totally covering my face.