“Which ghost fucked with you?” I ask, smirking.
“Dude, I swear to God, I was taking a piss, and something breathed down my neck. I was just waiting for it to try to give me a reach-around.”
Daya looks at me, a droll expression on her face. “I told him to come talk to me when he goes in the attic. I’m still mad at Addie for that one.”
Addie’s eyes widen. “It was one time!” she defends. “And nothing happened to you,” she finishes on a mutter, plopping down on the couch across from her. I take a seat next to Addie while Sibby growls and slams a drawer in the kitchen, mad about something. Again.
“I lost my peace of mind. That’s what happened to me,” Daya retorts. “That demon could’ve gotten attached to me, and then I would’ve brought it home and lived in torment for the rest of my life.”
“Could you blame it? You’re the whole package,” Addie says, grinning when Daya narrows her eyes.
“Flattering me only works sometimes.”
“Is it working now?”
“A little.”
“Have you guys seen my pink knife?” Sibby screeches from the kitchen, frantically opening and closing drawers and cupboards.
I’ve grown to care for Sibby deeply, like an irritating, psychotic kid sister. But fuck, I’m going to have to find a home and job for her. Give her a purpose in life outside of annoying the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“Did you ask Jackal?” I ask, arching a brow when she looks at me with narrowed eyes. She knows damn well I’m referring to the time she felt the need to share with the class that Jackal fucked her ass with her knife. As if anyone wanted to know that.
“He only used it on me that one time, and I think I’d remember getting a knife shoved up my—”
“Maybe you dropped it somewhere in your room,” Addie cuts in urgently.
She huffs. “I already checked there, but I’ll look again,” she mutters, trudging towards the stairs with a frown. The only other thing capable of sending her into a tailspin outside of losing her henchmen is losing that knife.
Jay clears his throat, cheeks red as his gaze flickers to Sibby, partially intrigued and partially disturbed.
“I think I know who Claire’s partners are now, finally,” Jay announces, bringing the topic away from ghosts and getting fucked with knives by imaginary people.
My brows jump in surprise. “Yeah?”
We’ve concluded that if we can get to her partners, it’ll be much easier to draw Claire off her comfy little island.
I’m ready to say fuck it and bomb it. I could get ahold of the resources, but it’d take too long. And as tempted as I am to gather as many people as I can in the Z organization and invade her island, she has a small army there, and I’m not willing to sacrifice so many valuable lives for the bitch.
Not when I can sacrifice the lives of her partners instead.
“As you know, she’s been communicating with two sources, but their IP addresses were untraceable, and the identities hidden. But sending the drone out was successful, and I just got intel that she booked a flight for those same two people to visit her. Their names were on the flight log,” he tells me, pulling up the information and twirling his laptop to show me.
Gary Lawson and Jeffrey Shelton.
“They’re both lobbyists,” Daya chips in.
“Fitting,” I murmur, looking over the pictures of the two men on Jay’s screen.
Typical, creepy-looking old men who get hard-ons for little children and making Americans as miserable as possible while living lavishly.
“When are the flights?”
Jay grins, his hazel eyes blazing with excitement.
“Tomorrow. They’re departing from a private airport in Los Angeles.”
I turn to Addie and notice a tiny twig sticking from her hair, along with pieces of bark, dirt, and a small leaf. There are also small blood spots that are beginning to soak through her blue t-shirt, though she’s trying her best to conceal them. Worst of all, there’s already a deep bruise forming around her throat, and I’d be a goddamn liar if I said that didn’t make my dick hard all over again.