I guess I’ll just have to take a chance. At least it’s a 50/50 guess. Taking a deep breath, I let it out in a huff.Let’s do this. Picking a direction, I walk out into the fray.‘Hi-ho, Silver! Away!’Lynx yells and pulls on my hair, turning my head in the direction he wants me to go, which was the opposite way I was heading.
Great. Now I’m a goddamn horse in hell.
Chapter Two
Armani looks good on you, but better on the floor
Rez
Imust admit, I'm fascinated by all the supernatural ‘creatures’ walking around. At first, I could have sworn this was just an elaborate prank with special effects and costumes, but after what I just dodged, it has me second-guessing. The six legged rubber looking chicken could not have been made up or fabricated. That thing was big enough to run me over and ran down the hallway like the damn roadrunner. If it wasn’t for Lynx bringing my attention to the ‘fast food’ heading towards me, I might have been the roadkill on the side of the hallway. Is it too late to wish my friends were playing a prank on me?
After thirty minutes of running into benches, door frames, and dodging around pissed off creatures, I finally find the door labeled H-3. No one said I was good with directions. I was sure I would have a bald spot where Lynx was yanking my hair like a demented jockey from hell.
‘Thanks for the help back there, Lynx!’I growl. The little bastard yanked so hard I lost my balance, bounced off the wall, and tumbled to the floor where I decided to star in the role as a hurdle for the supes around me. Highly do not recommend.
‘What? I didn’t do anything,’he says innocently. I know better than to believe the little minx.
I give him a haughty look, which he doesn’t get the full effect from because he’s still sitting on my damn shoulder. ‘Yeah, right. What was with running me into a wall?’
I hear him chuckle. ‘I can’t help it if you decide to do an impromptu Jerry Lewis skit. Whose idea was it to act as a bump on a log?’He laughs so hard he grabs my hair to keep from falling off my shoulder.
I’m tired, irritated, and I need to get back home and away from this nightmare. Then again, Lynx needs this place to become whole again from the sounds of it. I’m so frustrated, I’m about to rip out my own hair with the way this back and forth is killing me. Grandparents or Lynx? My grandparents will kill me if they find out I didn’t make it home by curfew. You'd think being almost twenty-three, my family would ease up on the ropes, but not in this lifetime. My grams believes that once you turn forty, then you’re allowed to sneeze without permission. I just moved back home to my aunt’s house yesterday, so I haven’t even been out of their jail cell for long, and checking in with them was their biggest condition of me being able to move away. I had no doubt in my mind, they would drag me back to the trepid swamp and make my dreams of attending college vanish until I reach a ripe old age when they’ll finally give in to death at a much riper old age than anyone would imagine.
My grandmother, Priestess Tanda, is the most powerful and feared voodoo priestess in all of New Orleans. She wears the pants in my family. Believe me, you do not want to cross her. Even though I know voodoo is fake, she’s still a scary woman. That’s why I need to get my happy ass back home and in one piece. I just need to make sure Lynx can keep his shifting magic when we do.
Despite the red frizzy bed head and pink fuzzy bunny slippers Grams dons every morning, she is a force to be reckoned with on a good day. I’ve learned how to toe the line since I’ve lived with Grams and Pops for the past seven years, but she could still skin me alive if she feels the need to, then allow Pops to use my skin to sell in his shop as a pouch for herbs. The seer of life and death has rightfully earned her title, and I don’t want to be on the wrong side of it.
Letting out an exasperated breath, I debate my choice of moving back home. After five years of working, I finally decided to go back to school and was accepted into the college close to my childhood town. Don’t ask me why I waited so long to attend, I’ve just always been content to work in my Pops’ shop until recently. It was like all of a sudden I had an urge to join. It took months to convince Grams, but after I agreed to her living conditions with my aunt and checking in daily, I moved back to Indiana where I was born.
So, of course, a few of my old friends decide to throw me a ‘Welcome Home’ party the first night I get home. Now I wonder if my aunt being more lenient is a curse rather than a blessing. I’m pretty sure I missed my FaceTime appointment with my grandparents. With that thought in mind, I pat my back pocket searching for my phone, and come up empty.
Shit!
Fuming now, I start thinking about all the shit I will be in just because of the stupid party. By the time my hand grips around the doorknob to push it open, red is tinting my vision.
I walk into H-3 expecting to find another large waiting room, but instead, I see a small office. Leaning on a desk with an open book in his hands is a tall, blond, delectable man in a light gray fitted suit. Jackpot!
His blond hair is sheared short on the sides and longer on the top, styled in soft spikes. A fresh-looking cut runs from his right cheek down towards his full lips. Piercing hazel eyes sit above a typical Roman nose. At the same time, his shaven angular jaw makes him look like a golden God.
“Hello, Nerezza. It’s nice to finally meet you. Come on in,” he says, closing his book and giving me a slight smile, unstartled that I walked into his office without knocking. His voice is smooth, like silk, and it gives me goosebumps.
Oh, Lord! He has a dimple in his cheek. Be still, my loins. Do not fall for your kryptonite. Nope! Guys like this one, you just can’t trust. Ones who look this good and have a slight sexy smile that pops a dimple should come with a label saying:
Warning!! Warning!!
Jump ship!!!
A tug on my hair brings me back to Earth. I realize I’m still standing in the doorway with my mouth hanging open, catching flies, and slam my mouth shut. Closing the door, I walk into the room and take in my first glimpse.
The windowless office is small, but modern looking, with a glass desk holding a laptop in the center, and a chair tucked in behind it. There’s a low back armchair sitting front and center as well. Black bookcases filled with books, pictures of landscapes, and knickknacks take up the left wall. Completing the office is an unassuming television mounted on the right wall in front of a small loveseat.
While I walk past the loveseat, I feel, rather than see Lynx move off my shoulder and scurry down my back.
‘I’m just gonna mosey on over here while you get comfy. I’m sure blondie has some skeletons hiding here somewhere. Maybe I’ll find that second dildo he’s hiding. The first one is obviously still stuck up his ass. Look how he’s leaning. Ramrod straight. The only people who sit like that walk around with dildos up their asses. Wait. Maybe it’s a butt plug. Perhaps it’s a bright pink unicorn horn-shaped one,’he says, and I choke back a laugh, trying to school my face into a blank look.
‘Omg Lynx. How do you know about butt plugs? Wait. I don’t want to know,’I plead with him, but I know it’s a wasted effort.
‘Remember Mr. Pinkleton? The shop owner down the street from Pops’ store?’
