“Hell no, I didn’t call the cops! You think I need cops asking me questions? Ain’t no one needs cops asking them questions.”
“Right.” Crime watch was exactly that in this neighborhood—people watching the crime take place. “Can you describe him, at least?”
“Wait a second, I’m not done yet.” Mikey held up his hand.
I went into the kitchen to get a second look at the damage. Maybe there was an unmelted fork somewhere.
“You gonna listen to this or am I wasting my time?” he called after me.
“Eyes don’t work like ears, in case you haven’t realized. I don’t actually need to be in the same room to hear you.”
I heard a sort of huff, then footsteps. He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and resumed his lean. “I don’t like to yell unless I’m about to bust someone’s head.”
“Good to know.”
“So I walked closer, trying to figure out what the deal was. Before I got there, the door flew away. Blew out like a bomb went off. So I hurried up, then. I got a house right next door. No way do I need my house blown the shit up, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yes, I’m with you so far.”
“Sure enough, that bastard was lightin’ fires inside.” He blew out a breath and dramatically shook his head, making his body sway from side to side. “Nope.” He waved his finger in the air. “Nope.”
“Nope, meaning you actually did something, or that you stayed silently angry?”
“I went and got my gun, that’s what I fuckin’ did. Ain’t no motherfucker setting fires in my zone. You think I made it through Katrina to get burned out? Fuck that!”
I paused in front of him. He cleared out of the doorway and backed up to the front door, giving me a wide berth. Strangely, it made me relax that much more around him. He was respecting my space.
“Then what happened?” I asked, checking the time. Nearly four in the morning. I needed to get some sleep before I went and bought more spells. After that, it was home invasion time. I wanted to do unto others as they had done unto me.
“I walked into this motherfucker and tried to shoot a bitch, that’s what happened.”
My mouth dropped open. I blinked a couple times. I hadn’t been expecting that response. “That was one way to call the cops,” I said.
He chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Anonymously, yeah. I popped off a couple rounds, made sure that sucker ran so you didn’t get your house seized for a murder investigation, then got out myself. I didn’t want to be home when the police drove through.” He scratched his chin, a sound like rubbing sandpaper. “I mean, I know you rent or whatever, but the way I hear it, you’re gettin’ a good deal. You don’t want to go and mess that up.”
“Are you the one who put my door back?”
“Yeah. To keep people from looking inside. I didn’t figure you needed questions any more than I do.”
I certainly did not, from the police or anyone.
No-good Mikey had saved half my house. I scarcely knew what to say. I’d rarely said more than two words to him at one time, and though I did give him the passing nod, I didn’t show him any deference. Him putting his neck out for me, regardless of whether he had a stake in the outcome, was strangely touching.
“Thanks,” I said. It didn’t seem like enough, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate gushing.
He grunted in response.
After a moment of each of us looking around, me at a loss, him taking it all in, he asked, “What are you going to do now?”
My body filled with heat. I couldn’t contain the rage. “See how that house-burning bastard likes it when someone wanders into his home and lights shit on fire.”
Mikey started to laugh. “Atta girl. Show that rat bastard that crazy is as crazy does.”
Chapter Eighteen
Not exactly comfortable with what I was doing, I rang the doorbell and stepped back. Afternoon light filtered down from the partly cloudy sky.
I shifted, still tired from the few scant hours of sleep I’d managed. Then I shifted from side to side in anxiety and thought about leaving. I didn’t have many other options, though. So far today, I’d already met with two mages and a witch, trying to flesh out my arsenal of spells with what money I had. I hadn’t had great luck. More than half of my shopping list had yet to be crossed off, including many of the essentials. How could I possibly outdo a pack of violent, spell-hurling mages without a distraction of some sort, much less some fierce counterattacks? I couldn’t, that was how.
I swallowed my pride and rang the doorbell again. If they wouldn’t help me, I’d have to go to the mages who often worked with the shifters. The shifters had some damn good ones. The problem was, like the shifters themselves, those mages were fiercely loyal, and might not help me out of pure bullheadedness.
The lock disengaged and the door swung open. Before me stood Callie, clad in a pink velvet sweat suit. She had a sweatband around her head, containing a mess of frizzy curls. Her red face shone with moisture.
At the sight of me, her eyes lit up and a smile took over her face. “Reagan! I should’ve known it was you. No one who knows better would interfere with my workouts. Come in, come in.” She waved me in before turning, showing me the hot-pink “Juicy” spread across her butt.
There were so many sarcastic things I wanted to say that my mind froze up and I couldn’t get any of them out.
“Tea or coffee?” she asked. I saw her check her watch as she led me through the house. “What am I thinking? It’s well past noon. Beer, wine, or whiskey?”
“A beer would be great, thanks.”
“Have plans tonight, huh?” We entered the kitchen, and she gestured me toward the high chairs on one side of the island. “Grab a seat.”
“I can’t stay long.” I pulled out a chair.
“The beer told me that.” She grabbed a walkie-talkie off the wall and brought it to her lips. “T-Rex, come in.”