Chapter 27
I stood in front of a modest, ticky tack house in a modest ticky tack neighborhood where all the lawns were well-manicured and all the bushes were meticulously trimmed. It hadn’t taken me long to get here. Apparently, Duane was able to summon a driver on his phone who arrived all of ten minutes later. So there I was, not a half hour after meeting Death himself, standing in front of the address he’d given me.
Its stone facade seemed cheap, making me think the builders of this particular neighborhood had wanted to differentiate their three different models in the least expensive way possible. This was made more obvious by the brick facade sported by the houses on either side of the one indicated by the address I’d gotten from Death.
One of the lights on the outside of the garage was shining brightly with all its LED induced intensity, while its compatriot was dark, making me wonder whether it had burned out or if the illuminated one had a bad photo sensor and was supposed to shut off automatically. It was a little disconcerting because it spoke of neglect, but I tried to tell myself people delayed fixing things all the time. As it stood, the lights were probably last on a very long “honey do” list.
More worrisome was the green garbage can was still out in front of the sidewalk. It was the only trashcan not up by its house. Why hadn’t this one been put away? It didn’t bode well. As I approached the tall black front door, I took a deep breath to calm myself. There was no use freaking out now. Doing so wouldn’t help me at all. I was Mac Brennan, and it was time to man the fuck up.
I rang the doorbell, ignoring the note taped on top of it saying to please not ring the doorbell and waited. I glanced around nervously, hypersensitive a neighbor would find my presence here just after sunrise disconcerting and do something stupid like call the cops, or even worse, try to talk to me. I rang again and followed with a loud knock. No response.
After what felt like forever, I tried the door knob. It twisted easily. That probably wasn’t good. Even though everything inside me was screaming it was a horrible idea, I pushed open the door and when I didn’t hear the sound of an alarm beeping, peered inside. I hadn’t really expected an alarm since I hadn’t seen a sign posted out in front of the house warning me, but the lack of one made me feel slightly better.
The next thing I noticed was the smell, like week old garbage. It hit me full in the face, and I flinched backward, instantly brought back to my horrific nap in the dumpster yesterday. It was hard to believe that had only been yesterday. It seemed like it’d happened a lifetime ago.
“Hello?” I called through the threshold. There was no response. “Hello?” I called again, louder this time. The result was the same. Apprehension began to prickle along the back of my neck, and I rubbed it as I tried to figure out what to do. Could I just walk inside? No doubt someone would call the police if they saw a strange person just walk inside but then again, maybe not. This seemed like the type of neighborhood where the neighbors didn’t get together for block parties. Most of them probably hadn’t even met each other.
I sighed and stuck my head inside, but all I could see was the narrow line of the entryway and a splash of hallway wall. This place was deserted. That left one ominous question. Why would someone leave a house and not lock it up? Especially if they’d been gone for such a significant length of time that the trashcan had neglected to be put away?
Against my better judgment, I stepped through the door and onto the white and gray marble floor. I swept my gaze right and left. Right led to a series of closed doors, likely bedrooms and bathrooms. Left led to what looked like a family room. I went left. The last thing I wanted to do was burst in on someone changing. What would I say? “Oh, Death appeared on his pale horse and sent me to make sure you remembered to wear clean underwear?” Yeah, that’d go over real well.
I resisted the urge to draw the Desert Eagle still tucked into my pants even though a small voice in the back of my head urged me to clear the room with military precision. Instead, I slowly poked my head around the corner and did a quick scan of the room.
A coffee table with cherry finish. Beige leather couches. An end table matching the coffee table with a small beige lamp sitting atop it. No people.
I released a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding and stepped out into the room. My foot crunched on something, and I looked to see I’d stepped on a plastic toy. A green tyrannosaurus rex.
A jolt of memory exploded through my brain. I had the tiny dinosaur in my hand, only my hand wasn’t blacker than the hair of Satan’s ass. I was offering the toy to someone in front of me, someone I couldn’t quite picture. I strained, trying to force the details into being, but as I did, everything slipped through my fingers until I was left staring at the dinosaur beneath my shoe once again.
Fear gripped me as I snapped back to reality. I knew whoever had lived here well enough to have given the dinosaur to them as a gift. The thought made my blood run cold.
“Hello?” I cried much louder than before, but the only response was deafening silence. Panic swelled up inside me as I hurried through the room and pushed through a door along the far wall. It opened into a kitchen with granite counters and professional looking stainless steel appliances. No people again, but judging by the smell, the trashcan was somewhere in here. I didn’t stay long enough to confirm.
The next room was the dining room, complete with a bar height oak table and chairs. A china cabinet stood along the far wall, displaying a set of dishes that looked expensive. The floor was covered by that tile meant to look like wood. Also expensive. The type of expensive that was too expensive to be in a house like this. Something was definitely off.
I drew my gun, not caring if I scared someone. I shoved my way through the door on the other side of the dining room. Another room done in the same tile greeted me. An enormous black television was immediately visible mounted to the far wall situated between foot tall marble statues of the Justice League and the Avengers respectively. I swung my gaze and my gun around as I stepped into the room. My heart leapt into my throat.
Spray painted across the far wall in dripping red paint was a message.
“You have three days to finish the job or we kill the girl and her kid.”
A date was written underneath in black. The date was from two days ago. Today was my last day to finish the job. The only problem was, I had no idea what it was.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Cursed: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 1) Page 17