by K. F. Breene
“Can I help you?”
I jumped, not having seen the hostess walk up. After giving my name, I glanced over at the guy again. He was back to looking at his phone, a sweating brown bottle waiting in front of him.
“Right this way,” the hostess said.
I held my breath as she led me into the back, to a table by the window where a man was already seated. He looked to be about my age, with a shaved head and a modest brown beard. His nose was long and straight, and his lips, partially hidden by the beard, were turned up in a large smile.
He stood when the hostess stopped by the table with a menu in hand.
“Hi. I’m Ron.” He held out a hand.
Thankful he hadn’t moved in for a hug, I offered him a relieved smile and shook hello. “I’m Jacinta. My friends call me Jessie.”
“Please, sit.” He gestured to my chair and sat, waiting for me to follow suit, and didn’t speak until the hostess strode away. “Do you live around here?”
“I do, yes. Just down the street, really.”
“Oh yeah? I’ve been to this town a million times for wine festivals and because I have some friends here. Which area?”
“Just…” I pointed in the direction of the house as the waitress showed up to take our drink order. “I haven’t been here long. It’s the court with the creepy house at the end. Usually people know—”
“Ivy House.” The waitress smiled and nodded, ready with her pen and paper. “Right? You’re talking about Ivy House?”
“Yes—”
“Right! I know that house.” Ron paused for me to order a glass of wine before ordering the same for himself. After the waitress left, we started looking at our menus, and he said, “So that’s cool, huh? Living on the street with that house? I heard the owner lives in Europe or something, and there’s an insane old woman next door who throws rocks at people trying to check it out…” He laughed at the insanity of it all and held up his hands. “I’m sure there are a lot of urban legends surrounding that house.”
I shrugged as the waitress came back with the drinks. “I don’t honestly know. I’ve only been there for a couple of months. But the woman at the end…that’s true. She really does that.”
“No!” He laughed, delighted, and I found myself smiling with him. He had a carefree, infectious laugh. “That’s hilarious. I’d go check it out for myself, but I don’t want to get hit by a rock!”
“Yeah, she’s a really good shot.” I chuckled, ready to order when the waitress returned.
When she left again, he said, “So how close do you live? Do you see ghosts or anything at night? I hear it’s really creepy.”
“It is creepy, and…I live in it, actually. I’m now the owner.”
He paused for a moment, his glass half raised to his lips. “Wait…you live…in the house? You own it?”
“Yeah. I recently bought it. I like creepy old houses.”
A crooked smile worked within his beard. He laughed. “What a trip.” He squinted at me and turned his face to the side, mockingly suspicious. “Are you pulling my leg? You are, aren’t you? You’re poking fun because I’m so curious.”
I put up my hands. “No, honest. I swear.” I laughed, my tension from earlier dripping away. He seemed so normal. Non-magical, curious, no idea what went bump in the night… The most he had to worry about was a house payment or rent, bills, dating—normal life stuff. He didn’t have to think about flying, or warding off advances from promiscuous creatures, or a crazy house, or learning magic. He didn’t have to worry about the danger I felt drawing ever nearer, or whether Austin would soon find out the hard way that he was not, in fact, the biggest, baddest alpha on the block. Or wonder what would happen to the rest of us if our fearless protector fell.
I sipped my wine, relieved for this one moment. Relieved for this return to my old normal, if only for a night. This was one of the reasons I’d wanted to date a Dick.
“Wow!” He leaned back as our plates arrived. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, because I don’t want to open a can of worms, but…is it haunted?”
I told him about the room of dolls, obviously leaving out the detail that they came alive. Working through our dinners, we spoke about little things, the conversation starting and stopping as we navigated the waters of small talk, working around to hobbies and things we did for fun. It wasn’t until we started talking about what we did for a living that the conversation came to a screeching halt.
“Oh…uh…” I laid down my fork and blotted my mouth, my plate nearly empty and my belly completely stuffed. “I actually came into some money recently, so right now I’m mostly concerning myself with…working on the house.”
It wasn’t a total lie. Working on my magic was similar to working on the house.
“Oh, yeah? Hmm.” He nodded. “What…uh… Does it need much work, or…”
“Quite a bit, actually,” I said. His eyebrows drew together in a troubled expression. “I kind of have to start from— What is it?”
I turned around to see what had given him such a constipated look.
Cedric walked our way, his dress shirt and slacks snug enough to show off his thick, corded muscle, his wings flaring out weirdly from beneath his thin jacket, and his expression hard as nails. His dark gaze pounded into Ron, clearly freezing him up and making him incredibly uncomfortable.
I put out my hand, facing Ron with a comforting smile. “That’s just my…cousin. He’s staying with me for a bit. You know, to sort out the house. I forgot my clutch when I walked out—he’s just bringing it for me.”
The clutch filled my waiting palm.
I smiled again and slipped it under the table.
“Thanks,” I said to Cedric, giving him a fleeting glance. I did a double take when I caught his look of death, still pounding into poor Ron. The unveiled threat was plain, as was the effect—Ron’s face looked ashen.
“Don’t mind him,” I told Ron, the lies coming faster now. “He’s an MMA fighter.” I said over my shoulder, “I said thanks. You can go now.”
I barely caught Cedric shaking his head as he turned away. Movement by the door caught my attention before I could turn back—Alek. His stare was on Ron, too, his threat just as plain.
“My other cousin. They’re—”
Mr. Tom’s head leaned into the frame of the window, the shades not pulled, sadly. A bowler hat covered his head, wire-rimmed glasses circled his eyes, and the collar of his trench coat was turned up, partially obscuring his face.
Ron’s head turned slowly until he locked eyes with Mr. Tom.
After one tense beat, Mr. Tom slowly leaned back out of the window frame.
“I, uh…” What the hell could I say about that one? “My family is…odd.”
Ron’s head turned back. He dropped his hands into his lap, moving ever so slowly as if worried a fast movement might summon one of my “cousins.”
Gritting my teeth, I turned long enough to frantically wave Cedric and Alek away, then gave Ron a large, hopefully calming smile. “I’m so sorry about that. They’re just…”
“Protective?” Ron asked, his gaze flicking toward the door before he glanced the other way, probably looking to see if Mr. Tom was peeping at us again.
“I was going to say overbearing. My…cousins only got here tonight. They haven’t really acclimated yet.”
“You’re kind of old to have younger cousins scaring your dates, aren’t you? I mean, that’s something for teenagers.” He gave a humorless laugh, playing it off as a joke, clearly having no idea how deeply those words stung. He dropped his napkin on his plate before blowing out a breath. “Are they going to be waiting outside with a shotgun, too?”
I could hear the tremor in his voice. I could see the unease written plainly on his face. They’d shaken him, he clearly wasn’t used to it, and he was trying to make light of it.
“Honestly, I’m really sorry. I’d asked my friend—my female friend—to drop off my bag. They’re just acting up, honest. They’re
young and dumb and bored.”
“That’s fine, but the creepy dude in the window—”
“You aren’t going to believe this, but…he’s a butler. He basically came with the house.”
Ron’s look was fixed and unflinching. The blinking was his tell—I should’ve gone with Mr. Tom being my uncle. But honestly, if he ever visited Ivy House, he’d know the term uncle didn’t line up.
“He was like a caretaker for the old place, and I felt bad firing him,” I added quickly as Ron made a sign for the check.
“Oh, gotcha. And…he…hangs out with your cousins, or…?”
Crap. “He probably just wanted to make sure they handed over my clutch.”
“Ah.” He nodded, reaching for the check when it came.
“Oh, here.” I smiled as I held up the clutch. “Just in time, huh?”
“I got it.” He slipped his card into the leather folder and pushed the whole lot to the edge of the table. “I don’t want your cousins to break my legs or something.” His smile was strained.
I couldn’t think of any other way to apologize or explain, and even if I did, it seemed like he wasn’t going to come back from whatever he was feeling. If he couldn’t handle the new guys, how would he ever handle Austin?
“So…been online dating long?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, knowing when to throw in the towel.
“Not very seriously. I got out of a long relationship last year, and…” He shrugged. “Where do you start again, you know?”
“I do know. I’m recently divorced after twenty years. I’m in a new town, in a new house—a creepy one for funsies…” He laughed. “I didn’t know where to start, either. Online dating seemed like the logical place.”
“Except it is a minefield of crazy.”
“Yes!” I put out my hands to him as the waitress whisked the bill away. “You’re only my second date. The first guy… Well, that was a disaster. He set up a profile from yesteryear, and surprise! Basically a different guy.”
Ron laughed. “I’ve had a few of those. Or women who say they are athletic and outdoorsy, so you make a date to hike only to realize they have an ailment they didn’t tell you about, and suddenly your fun date is not possible. So you scramble.”
“But why didn’t she tell you that hiking was a no?”
“I do not know.” He laughed as the bill came back and he left the tip. “Shall we?”
“I had him meet me at the bar,” I said as I got up. “Apparently that made me suspect.”
“Oh, the one downtown?” He stood up too but waited for me to go first.
“No, the one up the way? The Paddy Wagon?”
“Oh wow, you chose that one for a first date?” He shook his head and stalled at the front. When I gave him a confused frown, he gestured to the coat rack. “Don’t you have something to wrap up in?”
“Oh. No. I was in such a hurry to leave the house after my cousins showed up that I literally forgot everything. It’s fine, I’m not bothered by the cold.”
He followed me outside, disbelief clear on his face. “We can just wait inside for them to bring you a sweatshirt if you want? I’m prepared this time. I’ll handle the intense scowls.”
“No, honestly, it’s fine. Seriously.” I pushed through the door, immediately wrapping my magic around myself. “What were you saying about the bar up the way?”
“Oh, just that—you have to be freezing! Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
“No, really, it’s…” I sighed and let him finish. He was being a gentleman and wouldn’t understand why I didn’t need it. “Thanks.”
“That’s a really rough-and-tumble bar,” he said. “I’d be nervous if that’s where someone wanted to meet.”
“Oh no, it’s fine. My neighbor—the rock-throwing old lady?” He smiled at me. “She brought me there my first night in town, and now I know the owner. He makes sure everything is aboveboard. It’s probably the safest spot in town when he’s on duty.”
“That big, burly guy?” Ron blew out a breath, pausing by the parking lot. “That guy, safe?” He shook his head with a smile. “That guy scares the whole town.”
“That’s just how he keeps order. Don’t break the rules and he won’t bother you.”
He shivered but tried to hide it, the cold permeating his dress shirt. “Are you one of those thrill-seeking women or something?”
“No! Honestly, he’s a really cool guy. He walked me here tonight.”
“He…” He put up his hands. “Well, there you go. If he’s on your side, you’re all set.”
“Let’s hope, huh? If someone gets through him, we’re all screwed.”
“No one is getting through that guy. He’s a tank. Hey, did you want a ride?”
“No.” Cedric stepped forward from the wall down the way, utterly invisible one moment, and in plain view the next, the nearby streetlight washing down his body. “She will not get into a car with a strange man, no matter how weak he might be.”
I rounded on him, incredulous, knowing his presence meant Alek and Mr. Tom were likely lurking somewhere nearby, too, using their gargoyle magic to blend into the building. The ability could be used with any kind of stone or cement.
“Get out of here,” I yelled at him, pointing for him to retreat. “Mr. Tom, Alek, you better show yourselves if you’re hanging around, too.”
“You should not ask us to reveal ourselves, miss.” Mr. Tom clasped his hands, suddenly appearing three feet behind Ron.
“Ah!” Ron sprang up and took a few quick steps toward the parking lot, creating some space for himself. “What the— Where’d he come from?”
“You have the power to unmask us,” Mr. Tom said as Alek appeared at the far corner of the restaurant. No matter which way I might’ve gone, one of them would’ve been on my heels while the others caught up. “You have the power to feel presences. You should never be snuck up on again. We just learned this.”
“Mr. Tom,” I said through clenched teeth, “get out of here. All of you, go away!” None of these dates would ever go well if these idiots didn’t learn to give me some space.
“You summoned us here. You are now under our protection. We cannot leave you with—”
I turned to Cedric with wide, crazy eyes and balled fists.
“Go,” Mr. Tom said quickly and loudly, waving his arm through the air like he was calling off a fleet of jets. “Go!”
“I can take it.” Cedric held his ground, but I could tell he felt the magic seeping out around me, just like Mr. Tom obviously did. I could feel it too, feeding on my anger and annoyance. Just this side of controllable.
“Are you sure?” I asked in a low voice.
Cedric’s stare bored into mine, his body braced in stubborn indignation. He did not want to bend his will, and a part of me knew this was a hallmark of his species. Of my species, now. If I relented, or backed down, he wouldn’t respect me as much. Worse, he’d see it as a green light to walk all over me. Guys like him, gargoyles, needed a firm hand.
Which was probably why Mr. Tom ruled my life and got all up in my business. I’d mistaken stubbornness for weirdness. In fairness, I hadn’t been completely wrong.
“Go home. Now,” I said, brooking no argument, wondering what I’d do if he refused.
He didn’t move at first, a block of muscle facing me on the walkway like we were in a Wild West showdown. Finally, grudgingly, he nodded, shifted his weight to the right, and picked up a foot to move on.
“You too,” I called behind me. Alek didn’t need to be told twice, clearly the less dominant of the two. Their large backs draped in shadow and their wings fluttering down their legs, they headed in the direction of Ivy House. They did not look back, and they clearly were not happy about this turn of events.
“Very well done, miss. Very well done.” Mr. Tom nodded, then stepped back against the wall, waiting for me.
“You too, Mr. Tom,” I said.
“Oh, don’t be silly. So
meone will have to walk you home. As soon as your date unfreezes from his fear-induced paralysis, he’ll sprint out of here.”
“I don’t need someone to walk me home.” I took a step toward Ron, who was watching my exchange with Mr. Tom with a pale face.
“I’m already here. I might as well,” Mr. Tom said. “I just baked a lovely chocolate cake. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Ron?” I gave him what I hoped was a disarming smile. “Sorry about that.”
He shook himself out of his stupor. His smile looked more like a grimace. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll head out.”
My heart sank. “Sure, yeah.” I shrugged out of his jacket.
He held out his hand to stop me. “That’s okay. It’s a cold walk home. Keep it.”
“Oh, but…”
“It was a nice time!” He jogged backward, hit a rock with his heel as the paved walkway turned into the dirty parking lot, and fell onto his butt. Dust puffed up around him. “Ha! Oops. Clumsy.” He pushed to his feet, gave me a thumbs-up, and sideways-walked toward a Ford Explorer. “Okay, see ya. I’ll call you!”
“He won’t call,” Mr. Tom said, watching the scene. “He’s so desperate to get away, he’s going to lose a thirty-dollar jacket.”
“Yes, Mr. Tom, I am aware, thanks.” My heart sank further and I sagged. “He was cool, too. He seemed like a really nice guy.”
“It looked like someone hit him in the face with a two-by-four.” Mr. Tom clasped his hands behind his back. “Repeatedly.”
I tsked. “No, it did not! He was fine looking. Average.”
“Ugly. C’mon, I know what will cheer you up. But first…” He peeled the jacket from my shoulders. “We don’t know where this has been, dirty Dick. He might have fleas from that wild sort of growth on his face. I’ll just leave it back in the restaurant.” When he returned, he gestured me toward town, then turned us in the direction of the bar.