Brush With Death: A Sadie Salt Urban Fantasy (Sadie Salt Series)

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Brush With Death: A Sadie Salt Urban Fantasy (Sadie Salt Series) Page 11

by Ware Wilkins


  So I need to make some rounds and see if anyone needs care.

  After sleep. God, sleep comes first, since I’m set on never using teeth again.

  There’s something exciting that’s keeping me going, despite being dead on my feet. I think it’s that, for the first time in years, I’m moving forward. After figuring out that I’d been boned (ha!) by my deal with Tee, I allowed myself to become overwhelmed with my situation. Instead of trying to seek my parents’ killer, I resigned myself to failing.

  When the final patient leaves and it’s time for lunch, I give Dr. Winston an especially pathetic look. Pouty lip, puppy dog eyes, the works. He sighs first, then waves me away. Time to go.

  It’s hard not to speed home and to my bed. But I haven’t actually thought about how I’m going to pay for the first speeding ticket Abe wrote me, and I still have the ticket from the noise complaint, so there’s no point in adding a third for the sake of an extra minute of sleep. Once I pull into my apartment complex, I can barely contain myself. Grabbing my purse and baseball bat, I run to the door.

  Only to stop, hand on knob, when I hear a man’s voice inside my apartment. It’s low and gruff and so muffled I can’t tell what he’s saying. It doesn’t matter, since I share the apartment with Ingrid, who definitely doesn’t sound like that. My body switches to high alert. Ignoring the protest in my brain that says you need teeth!, I grip my baseball bat and slowly turn the knob.

  The door opens without a creak. Inside I move, stepping as lightly as I can, both hands on the bat now and primed to swing away. I wonder if the killer has come back for me, or for more teeth, or... Oh gosh, I realize Ingrid must be home. She’s usually still sleeping about now. What if the killer has her hostage?

  What if she’s already dead?

  Pre-emptive grief wracks through me and I’m going to bash this asshole good for all he’s done to the people in my life. As I brace myself and turn the corner—

  “Jesus Christ, Sadie! What are you doing home?” Ingrid’s sitting on the kitchen counter, wearing a t-shirt and... nothing else. Except a surprised scowl, maybe. “And what the hell are you doing with a baseball bat?”

  I have to bite back the “didn’t you see me coming?” that would be my usual snark because she’s with a guy, and I don’t know if he knows about the paranormal stuff.

  The guy. Obviously who I heard talking and who I’d been about to accidentally brain. He’s tall and pretty handsome in a rugged sort of way. Broad, muscular shoulders and a hard jaw to match. His eyes are dark brown and locked onto me.

  I lower my bat. “Um, sorry. I thought someone had broken in?”

  “And your instinct was to fight them with a baseball bat instead of calling the police?” Ingrid sighs and it almost covers up her intense blush. Almost. But with the no-pants and the red cheeks, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on.

  “We eat in the kitchen, Ingrid. Your ass is where my breakfast plate goes. I mean, come on.”

  “Shut up,” she replies, hopping off the counter and tugging down her shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

  “With pants!” I call after her as she races into her room. Leaving me alone with rugged guy. He’s still looking at me. “So... sorry about the bat.”

  After a long pause, he shrugs his shoulders and they stretch at the leather jacket he’s wearing. “No worries. Nice to know Ingrid’s got someone here to protect her.”

  “She totally does.” I’m not actually super over-protective of Ingrid. She’s a big girl and she can sleep with who she wants. We have a solid deal going about no judgment. You kind of have to if you are a stripper and a person in debt to the Tooth Fairy. But I am caught off guard and it’s making me cranky.

  Ingrid comes prancing back in with leggings on. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t know you’d be home early, or I would have left a sign or something.”

  “I should have told you. It’s just been busy.” I realize I haven’t had a chance to tell her about a single thing that’s happened since before Nash. It irritates me that there’s a rugged dude here, now, because a long chat with Ingrid followed by a nap feels like the best remedy.

  She grabs me a water from the fridge. “Well, this is David. We met at the club.” Ah. So she met a customer and slept with him. That’s new. As far as I was aware, she had a strict policy of not bringing home men from the club where she works. There’s so many reasons for that policy, like stalkers and strangers and hello, STD’s. But... no judgment. Right? Right.

  “Nice to meet you, I’m—”

  “Sadie,” he says. His voice is rough, like he smokes a pack a day kind of rough. Except that... I step closer to shake his hand and see scars. On his hand, his forehead, and one across the neck. Like someone once tried to slit his throat and failed. Ingrid really knows how to pick them. “Ingrid mentioned you were her roommate. It’s nice to meet you.”

  His eyes are the kind of dark brown that’s almost black. It doesn’t bother me (I’ve seen eyes in all colors, thanks to my profession), but he doesn’t blink often. It’s disconcerting, like when he’s looking at me he’s trying to see inside of me or something. Creep. This is not something I’m going to let Ingrid live down, whenever we’re able to hang out and talk.

  “You, too,” I force out with a smile. “I’m sorry for, erm, interrupting. I’ve had some real late nights the past week and it caught up to me, so my boss let me come home to sleep.”

  “Dr. Winston let you off early? It’s about damned time,” Ingrid grumbles as she hooks an arm through David’s. The move bothers me. It looks more permanent than a fling.

  “Working nights...” David’s smile is thin. “Do you do the same work as Ingrid?”

  Ingrid and I both laugh. “Oh, no way,” I say. “I’m too short and clumsy to be a good dancer.”

  “But not too short and clumsy to hit an intruder with a baseball bat?” There’s an irony to his tone that ruffles me, but Ingrid is beaming so I’m going to play nice. But seriously... I’m over David and I hope this isn’t going to turn into a thing.

  “I aspire to great heights,” I respond dryly.

  “You’re funny.” He isn’t laughing.

  “Just tired.”

  “Because you...?”

  Some part of me wants to reply take care of the teeth of creatures far more dangerous and badass than you can ever hope to be. Instead, I just say my usual. “Tutoring.”

  “In what?”

  What’s David’s deal? Is this him trying to be polite? Trying to get in good with Ingrid because I’m her roommate and bestie? I don’t care anymore. I’ll be blunt and let her smooth out things if she feels they need smoothing. “I’m sorry, I really need to sleep.”

  “Of course.” He unhooks his arm so he can sling it over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Gotta go, too. Nice to meet you, Sadie.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Then, maybe to prove a point or maybe because I’m tired and sassy, he plants a sloppy, gross kiss on Ingrid that lasts past acceptable roommate-still-standing-here protocol. My toe begins to tap. “See you later, baby.”

  “Okay!” Ingrid’s gushing. I don’t have the patience for this. Pushing gently past them, I head to my room and close the door. Groaning in frustration, I fall on the bed, kick my sneakers off, and sink as quickly into sleep as I can.

  Someone shakes me awake.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan. It feels like I’m being hauled out of water, but the most warm, pleasant, restful water of all time. It doesn’t feel good. I’m too groggy to even be mad, just horribly confused. “Why would you do this to me?”

  “Sadie, you have to get up.” Ingrid gives me another good, hard shake. “Abe is here.”

  Ingrid knows about my long standing crush on Abe. What she doesn’t know is what he thinks I do, thanks to that old jerk Ms. Nickles. Maybe I should take my baseball bat over and have a chat with her. “What’s Abe doing here?” If anything, I assumed he’d want to avoid me for the rest of my life. Proba
bly here to see what other bananas sex acts you’re up to. Hell, he probably thinks you use bananas in your sex acts.

  Ugh.

  “He says he needs to talk to you.” Because that makes it clear.

  “I need coffee and a minute to get up.”

  She smooths my hair out of my face and that small touch of kindness makes my weary heart ache with tenderness. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

  “Thanks, Ingrid.”

  I’m rewarded with a soft kiss on my temple and damn, for all my whining about being unlucky, it’s moments like these that help me realize that in some things in life, I’ve got it good. She pads out and I’m left to summon the willpower to wrestle myself out of bed.

  Clothing is not great. T-shirt with holes, jeans that probably should be washed soon, sneakers. My hair gets pulled into a messy knot at the nape of my neck, and I grab a purple hoodie. The clock says I’ve been sleeping for four hours. Not great, but I feel a little better than before. If I can get some caffeine, go for a walk, eat a huge dinner, and sleep again, I might actually return to something that feels like human.

  I’m fumbling for all the reasons Abe could possibly be here. Maybe he’s checking up on the ticket. Maybe my tail light is out and he drove by to warn me before I drive again. Or maybe... my mouth sours at the worst possibility. Maybe he’s come to arrest me for the crazy illegal prostitution he thinks I’m doing. I laugh at the idea that he’s come to inquire about my “business”.

  Finding out that Sheriff Abraham Murray has a secret fetish goes on a long list of shit I wouldn’t want to know about, but joking about a situation, even if it’s to myself, makes me feel better.

  When I find him at the bar near the kitchen, though, his face doesn’t say business proposition. It says things are real bad and about to get worse.

  “Hey, Abe,” I stifle an unintentional yawn. “What can I do for you?”

  “Doug sent me to get you.”

  I blink a few times. “He needs me back at the office and sent a sheriff to get me?” It seems like the kind of thing Dr. Winston would do, but he knows how much I need this rest.

  “Not to the office. I’ve got something I need a dentist to look at, and it’s in a place Doug can’t get to. He wants you to come and take pictures. And,” Abe ads, hands in his pockets, “He said you probably know as much as he does, so I’m going to get your opinion, too.”

  “Opinion on what, exactly? And where?”

  “The bottom of the Hanes Ravine. It’s a body, Sadie.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A body? That woke me up fast. “What do you need Doug, or, I guess, me, for?”

  “Doug’s always been our expert on bite marks. Animal and man. He’s worked with us a few times on cases where we needed to determine the nature of bite marks.”

  I rub my face hard. Is this real life? When I was just a night-time dentist to paranormals, I dreamed of being a regular girl. Now, after Nash’s death, I’d happily take just being in debt to the Tooth Fairy. Because it feels like each time I shut and reopen my eyes, something else is wrong.

  “Okay. May I have ten minutes to eat and wake up?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m parked outside.” It’s saying something that Abe doesn’t want to wait with us. We all went to school together, we all knew each other. His exit is a burn.

  Ingrid’s eyebrow cocks as he closes the front door behind him. “What’s that about? He could’ve stayed for coffee.”

  “No, he couldn’t. I’m going to fill you in, but it’s going to have to be quick, so no questions or interrupting.”

  “This sounds exciting!”

  “In the worst way,” I sigh. “Okay, here goes. Two nights ago I was working on Nash Kincaid’s teeth again. Tee was collecting, if you recall, and I needed the teeth. Stupid Ms. Nickles called in a noise complaint again, and Abe was forced to come over. Nash was half-shifted when I left him to answer the door, and Abe saw his blood on me and heard him groaning and wanted to come in. So I had to tell him that Nash and I were up to some kinky stuff so he wouldn’t stumble on a werewolf-in-progress in my home—”

  “But you love Abe!” She gasps.

  “Yes, I do, but now he thinks I’m a turbo pervert. Don’t interrupt, the clock is ticking.” She covers her mouth. “So when I went back after getting rid of Abe, I found Nash’s body. Someone murdered him.”

  “Stop!” She slams a hand on the counter. “Someone was murdered in my fucking home two days ago and you are just now telling me?”

  Wincing, I shrug. “We haven’t seen each other, and that’s just the start of it. Please. So I called Benji the vampire, who came over. He helped me tell Alec, the pack leader. They agreed to clean it up, and I haven’t heard anything about Nash since. But Benji made me go to Oliver, who gave me a magic bat to protect myself and told me that Nash’s teeth missing was the same thing that happened to my parents.”

  “Back up, and you can’t get mad for this. Nash’s teeth were missing? And your parents?”

  Nodding, I take a sip of coffee and it scalds my tongue. “Yeah, I guess Uncle Oliver hid that fact from me. My parents had their teeth stolen, and Nash did, too.”

  “So who did it?”

  “We don’t know,” I admit, staring into my mug. “Benji, Alec, and Uncle Oliver all suspect a bone witch.”

  “But why wouldn’t they also kill you for your teeth?”

  “I can only assume it’s because my teeth aren’t worth a lot of power.”

  “Holy shit. I can’t believe you didn’t like, leave a note or something, though. I’ve been here, sleeping, in the same apartment someone was murdered in!”

  “This is where I joke about how maybe you should have seen it coming.”

  “That’s not funny, bitch.”

  “I love you.” I glance at the kitty-cat clock she has on the wall. Its tail flicks back and forth with the seconds. It used to bother me, but now I’m so used to it that it doesn’t. “I’ve got three minutes. What’s up with that dude, David?”

  “Talking about the guy I’m sleeping with after your story feels dumb,” Ingrid pouts. “But okay. Just know you owe me a majorly better explanation and conversation after you go look at a corpse with Abe. Which, by the way? Best first date, ever. Maybe he’s into the filthy stuff, too.”

  “Tell me about David, you jerk.”

  Her nose wrinkles and she stifles a laugh. “Okay, fine. He came into the club, and I know I say I’ll never sleep with customers, but he kind of saved my life.”

  “What?” My skin prickles and my heart launches into overdrive.

  “Yeah, the guy who got in a fight the night before came back, with a gun. He was pissed we’d banned him and was waving his gun around and shooting it into the floorboards. David snuck around behind him and did some crazy karate stuff, knocked the gun away, and held the guy until the cops came. Then he made sure all the girls and myself were okay, and offered to take me out for breakfast after my shift.”

  It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that, while my own life was in over-drive, Ingrid had been dealing with her own scary stuff. Her job’s not glamorous, but with the number of bouncers she works with, I never considered that it wasn’t safe. Grabbing her hand, I squeeze it. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “I’m more than okay. I feel lucky. Like, what are the chances such an amazing guy comes into my club the night we need him most? He was there to look for a job as a bouncer. And get this—he’s staying in Cullowhee. So he’s only thirty minutes away from here, instead of being in South Carolina where the club is. Sadie... he’s nice. Not funny, but damn is he sexy. Great in bed, too.”

  “I could have skipped that part.”

  “Sure you could’ve, you naughty minx, you.”

  I groan.

  “I had a dream last night, too, while David was here. It was forceful, almost like he amplified my abilities or something.” She claps her hands.

  “What was it?”

  “Someone was
writing out numbers. Twenty-one, eleven, thirty five, four, forty, and twelve.”

  “And you’re excited about this, why?” Ingrid always gets overzealous over any visions she thinks might be the real thing, so I’m curious what she thinks a bunch of random numbers mean.”

  “Powerball, baby! I’m going to buy a lotto ticket.”

  Rolling my eyes, I smile and suck down the rest of my coffee. “Buy your ticket, but don’t get your hopes up. About David, either. Just be careful and we’ll talk when I get back.”

  “Okay. Oh! One sec.” She grabs her purse and pulls out her lipstick. “Let me give you some color.”

  Pushing her away, I hurry to the door. “No thanks. I’m going to look at a body, not get a guy’s number.”

  “It’s Abe. Why not both?”

  “You’re hysterical. See you later.”

  “Be prepared to tell me all the grisly details!”

  It’s cool outside as I jog down the stairs. North Carolina weather is a fickle bitch. It was scorching just a few days ago and now the air nips at me as I jog across the parking lot. I find Abe in his car, engine running. When my door slams shut and I’m buckled in, he mutters, “I didn’t expect you to actually take the ten minutes, Sadie.”

  “I didn’t expect to be dragged out of my apartment to look at a body, Abe.”

  “Fair enough.” He puts the car into gear and we’re headed to the ravine. I hate how heavy the air feels. It presses in, weighted with the hundreds of questions I know he wants to ask me and my own need to clear my reputation is fighting back. It really sucks not being able to say anything.

  Outside, I watch the town disappear and the trees thicken. The woods around here are gorgeous and green. The kind of thick, verdant wild that is reminiscent of the Pacific Northwest, maybe. Ferns spill over, their primal leaves hoarding the soil while the thick hardwood and pine trunks push high up toward the sky, sheltering everything from the sun. The light streaming through my window becomes dappled, and I squint my eyes to see better.

  How does anyone find bodies in forest like this?

  “Abe...” But I can’t finish the thought. I’m not sure there even is a thought. The discomfort of the drive is stifling and I’d even settle for going back to being a nobody in Abraham’s eyes, if it meant he wouldn’t be so stiff. “I can explain a bit, I guess.”

 

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