Page 52 of In Your Wake

Mitch moves ahead of me down the hall, the sounds getting louder the closer we get to the dining room, which is empty, but once we open the doors, the thuds and screeches grow louder.

“It’s coming from the chimney,” he says, standing in the doorway.

I rush to the fireplace and crouch down, peering in when the sounds stop. Waiting, I don’t dare move.

Mitch sneaks up behind me when the thudding begins again and I jump up, clutching my chest. “Fuck!”

“Still afraid of birds?” Mitch asks before crouching and peeking through the grate.

“You think?” A shiver runs down my spine when the bird screeches once more. “Ugh.”

Mitch stands up, then grips my shoulder. “Well, good luck with that.”

He turns to leave, but I reach out, gripping his sleeve. “You can’t leave. You need to help me with this.”

“Oh, hell no. If you don’t want me to help with the rest, I’m definitely not helping with this.”

I glare at him, my skin crawling every time I hear wings fluttering and smacking against the chimney pipe. I don’t mind birds, so long as they’re out in nature. But when one is in my chimney—which has only happened once before—it creeps me the fuck out.

My entire body shivers once again. “Okay, how about this? If you help me with the bird… I’ll let you help with the inn.” I release his sleeve and reach out my hand. “Deal?”

He hesitates. “Only if you promise not to bitch and whine about my choices.”

I press my lips together, then nod. “Yes, I promise.”

His lips curl into that trademark smirk as he takes my hand and shakes it. “Deal.”

I’d be lying if I said the heat from his hand didn’t send a sharp current through my blood, but before it affects me anymore than it already does, I yank my hand away, casually rubbing it on my leg.

“So, how do we do this?” I ask.

“Get a broom. We’ll push it out.”

“Push it out? It’s a bird in a chimney, not a clogged pipe. Next, you’ll say we should start a fire,” I say lightheartedly.

“I mean a fire would force it out, wouldn’t it?”

“Mitch, we’re not lighting a fire. That’ll kill the poor thing.”

“I thought you hated birds?”

“Hating something doesn’t mean you wish it dead,” I say throwing a cautious glance his way.

“All right, then, what’s your brilliant idea?”

I bite my lip, looking around. “Open the windows.” I hurry to open the two doors that lead out into the garden.

“Are you going to ask the bird to kindly fly outside?” he kids while he unlatches the first two windows. “You realize it’s just going to come out and flap around the room. Then it’ll definitely get hurt.”

“More than setting it on fire would?” I shoot back.

Annoyed, he shakes his head. “Whatever. We’ll do it your way. I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”

I jut my hip, cross my arms and glare at him. “Since you’re so smart, let’s make it interesting. A bet.”

Why am I even playing this game?

He thinks about it, looking up at the ceiling and scratching his beard.