I need to get to that bag.
I grab it and rush back to Ezra and Louie.
“Shit, I forgot about this. The day you left, Ezra, I went outside to pick some flowers, and when I came back, this was sitting right in front of the door.”
I lift the bag containing the “Freak in the Sheets” travel mug.
Ezra and Louie exchange a glance before turning their attention back to me.
“What are we looking at, Aurora?” Louie asks.
“For once, I’m with Louie. What is the significance of this dreadfully unfunny cup? I find trash on my property all the time,” Ezra says, sounding completely unbothered.
When he reaches for the baggie, I reluctantly hand it over.
Maybe I overreacted. Maybe it’s nothing. Some lost hiker panicked, tripped over a squirrel, and launched his favorite mug through the trees where it somehow bounced off a rock, flipped twice, and landed perfectly on Ezra’s front porch. And I just … didn’t notice.
Yeah. Totally possible.
Except Ezra doesn’t seem concerned at all, which kind of pisses me off.
“Well, I mean, when I went outside to pick flowers, the mug wasn’t there. I know I would have kicked it or tripped over it. Plus, for a moment, it felt like someone was watching me from the woods. I went inside immediately and locked the door behind me. But my biggest concern is that Jameson had this exact fucking mug when we went on our …”
The word curdles in my throat, rotting before I can say it.
“Fuck, Aurora! Way to bury the bloody lede!” Louie screams.
She jumps from her seat, takes the bag from Ezra, and begins sniffing.
“Lucifer’s balls, human noses are useless,” she growls.
A shadow twitches toward Louie, edging closer. Testing her. She flashes her fangs, daring it to try.
“Fucking hell, you clingy little shadow shits. Don’t you have some dark corner to slither off to?”
I turn to Ezra, and for the first time since I’ve met him, the fearsome, ancient shadow looks terrified.
“Ezra?” My voice wavers. “You good?”
When I reach for him, he takes a step back, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
“Ezra, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”
His shadows react first.
Seething. Coiling up his arms. Vibrating with rage.
They don’t just ripple.
They riot.
Finally, he allows me to take his hand and raises his head, his gaze reluctantly meeting mine.
The look in them guts me.
His eyes are a hurricane, grey and violent, carved from fear and something darker.
“Shit. Those little simp gremlins were right. I left you here alone, unarmed and vulnerable,” Ezra whispers.
