Page 41 of Caretaker

Chapter Fourteen

Rhys drove us up a long lane, the sides of which were dotted with colorful flowers and blooming bushes, and then we climbed out and stood side by side in the front yard, staring up at the enormous old house.

I gave the air a quick sniff when I exited the car, realizing only then that scenting the air had become a habit. As usual, the odor of Madalyn’s pure blood drifted delicately to my nostrils, but I recognized the old blood smell.

And I couldn’t even admit to the two men at my side that I’d lost her. Not yet.

“I love it,” I said. “It’s perfect. No neighbors on top of me, big yard, really beautiful and peaceful. I love it. But Rhys—”

“There are twelve acres of land, Trinity,” Rhys interrupted. “The backyard is fenced and the entire house has been updated. Six beds, four and a half baths, laundry, enormous kitchen, central air, finished basement which can easily be partitioned into more private rooms, should you need them. Shall we go in and have a look?”

“I can’t wait. This is the one, Rhys.” Then I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “If they’re going to let me work off the mortgage.”

He laughed. “Let’s just have a look.”

I snagged the silent Clayton’s hand before I remembered my touch would hurt him. I jerked away from him, then put Rhys between the two of us as we walked up the porch steps.

“How much?” I wasn’t rolling in money, but I could swing a decent down payment for a no-frills little house. That house was not a little house. And it sat on twelve acres of land. “Why are you even showing me this monster?”

Rhys and Clayton traded glances.

“I saw that,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s have a look at it,” Rhys said. “Then we’ll talk about the cost of living here.”

I narrowed my eyes as he put the key into the lock. “What is it? Grandpa in the basement? Monsters under the beds? Skeletons in the closets?” I wanted to sound flippant but I was just anxious. I really wanted that house.

Rhys gave me a stern look. “Are you finished?”

“Ghosts in the attic?” I shrugged. “Now I’m finished.”

He pushed the door open and it didn’t creak or squeak, though it looked like it should have. “Come in. It may be a moot point, as you haven’t seen the interior yet.”

The entryway was large, airy and clean and possessed a coat closet, a bench, and a small table over which hung a spotless mirror. “Someone sure keeps this place clean,” I noticed. I took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “I love the feeling I get from it. This may sound crazy, but I feel like I belong here.”

“There are things you need to know about this house,” Rhys said. He crossed his arms and studied me.

“Bring it, buddy! If there’s a way I can get this house, I’m taking this house.” I was beginning to get excited—if there was no chance I could afford the house, Rhys wouldn’t have wasted time bringing me there.

“Trinity, this house is a way station.” He held up a finger when I started to speak, and I closed my mouth so he could continue. “I know this is Bay Town and every person here is supernatural and accustomed to the…unusual, but this property is never truly going to belong to any one person. Things happen here. Bad things, not so bad things, inexplicable things. It’s a mystical, bizarre place, a dangerous place, truly, but if I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” He gestured. “And this house needs someone who can keep it safe.”

“I can afford it?”

“It’s not for sale,” Clayton said.

I put my hand to my stomach. “What? Not for sale?” I turned on Rhys. “Why did you—”

“You can live here for the rest of your life,” Rhys said, after throwing a glare at Clayton. “As its…caretaker. If you live here, this house is yours. Just not technically yours.”

I could only gape—not really at what he’d said, although that was definitely gape-worthy, but because some…thing had appeared behind him and stood watching us.

“Rhys,” I said.

“Yes?”

“There’s something right behind you.”

He jerked around, then backed toward me, and suddenly there were two silver blades in his hands. To his credit, he never made a sound.