Page List


Font:  

Not that he had any shoes to go with it other than the biker boots. He had polished them though, and just as he’d been about to leave, Zane forced him back to the bathroom and groomed his hair into order. Which had felt nice, even if he’d done it in a passive-aggressive manner.

Despite being drunk at the cemetery two years ago, he still remembered that he’d stood apart from all the family and friends of the other club members. None of them had reached out, as if they’d all agreed on it. He’d had the perfect alibi, yet they’d resented him simply because he was alive while their loved ones were being put six feet under.

Zane himself wore the only other pair of pants he owned with a fresh T-shirt, and looked neither elegant nor trustworthy enough to let into the house at this time of night. But still insanely hot, so Roach didn’t care. For him, this night could go either way. If they ended up going home and getting a good night’s sleep, that would be fine too.

“Whatever, let’s just knock,” Zane decided and opened the tiny white gate before making his way down the tiled path to the entrance. He grabbed the large knocker attached to the door and slammed it against the wood three times.

Roach followed his lead, but took off his leather jacket, like Zane had earlier instructed him. “Why didn’t we just call her before coming all the way here?”

“If she’s the real thing, she wouldn’t be able to read anything through the phone, would she?” Zane asked, and his gray gaze remained on Roach for longer than strictly necessary. It was dark, but the moonlight still captured Zane’s eyes, as if it were as enamored with him as Roach.

Roach wanted to point out that they could have arranged a meeting over the phone, but he knew this discussion was pointless. Zane was the god of chaos and would do whatever he felt like doing in the moment.

The light went on behind the oval door window, and they saw movement through the net curtain before it retreated, revealing a face with huge brown eyes and deep wrinkles congregated around a pale mouth.

“Evenin’,” Roach said, unsure how to proceed. This was stupid. “My name’s Reed Denver, and this is my friend Zane. I am so sorry to interrupt your evening, but we’re urgently looking for Mrs. Karla von Ecker, the author of Voices from the Other World.”

The woman on the other side, with a faint webbing of pink capillaries adding color to her pallor, cleared her throat and gently pushed back her shortish gray hair. “That is me. What is this about? I don’t do walk-in readings.”

“Oh, we’re happy to pay extra, came all the way from Georgia, M’am.” As expected, Zane slapped on more of his accent.

But Roach was stuck on something else. Were they happy to pay extra? Who was supposed to reach deeper into his pockets? “I don’t know, Zane, the lady seems busy.”

“Yes, but I keep seeing my wife in my dreams! Shelly was my heart, and I feel she wants something from me. I cannot wait any longer, and your book, Mrs. von Ecker, it really spoke to me. I believe only you can help me communicate with her, so she can rest in peace in the arms of our Lord!” Zane said with exasperation.

Karla huffed, shifted her weight from one leg to the other, but eventually spoke. “Well, you did come all the way from Georgia. Wouldn’t be polite to refuse.” She gave Roach a prolonged glance. “You boys wait here, because I haven’t expected any visitors. I’ll be back with you in a moment.”

As soon as she closed the inner door and left them alone, Roach faced Zane. “The fuck? Don’t even get me started on the dead wife thing, but who’s gonna ‘pay extra’ for her services? You said you don’t have money for rent.”

“I had to convince her somehow. Don’t be so dramatic,” Zane whispered back and spun around, sliding his hands over Roach’s hair, as if he wanted to push it back in place.

“What if we can’t afford her? Please, tell me you’ve got savings you didn’t wanna show me,” Roach begged, but he couldn’t make himself swat Zane’s hands away.

Zane hummed, his lips pressing together. “I didn’t count how much I have. But whatever. We’ll make it work somehow, right?”

Roach shook his head and stepped away from the door. “You really do think I’m a sucker. You want me to pay for everything. You know what? We’re done here. I’m sick and tired of your shit. I’m going home.”

Zane grabbed his wrist and pulled hard. “Don’t be ridiculous! You must want me out of your hair, right? Once the curse is lifted we can fight to the death, and whoever lives, lives. But stay here, so we can deal with this once and for all!”


Tags: K.A. Merikan Curse Bound Fantasy