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Sheriff Harlowe stood in the doorway holding a hammer and box of nails. For someone who’d gotten the same or less sleep than me, he made a decent, if not scruffy, impression. He gestured at my companion. “Not sure what trouble you’re brewing, Mrs. Finn, but I’m requesting you please pack up your cauldron and take it on outside.”
Calico wiped her face on her sleeve and rose, pulling me beside her.
“Well, if it isn’t the magnanimous Sheriff Harlowe," she drawled, shoulders stiff, grip on my palm pythonic. “Told you, girl, I ain't ever sensed a soul, but I can smell 'em rotting alright. Never trust a lone wolf.”
Ignoring her, the sheriff met my eyes. “Shall I cuff her, Miss Davins?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I distanced myself from the pair. “Far as I’m concerned, you're both intruding.”
“Some sense.” Calico set the tote against her hip. “You have any more good sense, you’ll dine tomorrow night under the protection of Talon.”
“Don’t go mistaking Miss Davins as fly for your web.” Caelan's tone was so pleasant I would've been less afraid if he'd snarled. “Lost more blood to her than you.”
Calico’s eyebrows rose. “Her?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The sheriff gave me the smallest nod. “She’s more formidable than she looks.”
How he said that with a straight face, I didn’t know.
“Well,” Cal said, brushing dust from the tote. “Better to lay in my silk than drown in your shit.”
The sheriff tipped the hammer toward the hall. “Now, Mrs. Finn.”
“Allow me a toad’s wink to fetch my broom.” She returned to my side, brown eyes unreadable and smile wide. “Dinner’s at six.”
On her way past the sheriff, the woman repositioned the tote and ‘accidentally’ banged his hand. The box of nails spilled across the floor. Her heels clicked over the mess and out she went.
“Damn,” the sheriff muttered, tilting his head out the doorway to see her gone. “Was hoping karma would catch her grace off-guard.”
“It’s hard to knock a spider off balance, Caelan.”
Shaking his head but smiling, he bent to gather the scattered nails. I moved forward; he waved off my help. “Sorry, Miss Davins; this may be your house but it is also my crime scene. I’ll handle this. Please collect your belongings and leave.”
“Not happening,” I said, backing my ass up onto the bed.
chapter 9
UNRULY HELLBEASTS
When the last nail had been collected, the sheriff placed both box and hammer on my dresser. He didn't seem at all annoyed I'd devolved into a stubborn, arms-crossed two year old.
“Miss,” he said, rounding on me with a parent's caution. “Afraid I have to insist.”
“If you were a vampire, I wouldn't have to deal with this crap.”
“I’d advise against trying that on a vamp,” he warned, “especially those long in the tooth.”
Setting my elbows on my knees, I leered like some kind of sweatpant-wearing gargoyle. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“You mean, why am I at the crime scene I’m in charge of investigating?”
“My house, yes.” I started to lean back, remembered the spray of blood across my balled sheets, and settled with a shoulder against one of the bed posts instead.
The man sighed. “Your housemate correctly assumed you'd go rogue, so here I am on my lunchbreak, making sure you haven't 'busted your stitches and are bleeding out at the kitchen table' as she puts it. I’ve also got a contractor coming at three to get the place sealed for the night.”
“How kind.”
