Villains & Vigilantes (Necessary Evils #1)
Chapter 1 The Phone Call
Few things shocked Noah anymore. Being married into a family of killers—no, wrangling a family of killers—had made him virtually shockproof.
Still, when his cell phone lit up with an unknown number, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
He glanced out the kitchen window at the fading sun, the sky bruising violet, his dogs still bounding around in the crisp air like they owned the yard.
He sighed, slid the last dish into the washer, and dried his hands on his spooky dish towel—a gift from Zane, naturally—before swiping right and hitting speaker.
“Hello?”
“Do you like scary movies?” a mechanical voice rasped, distorted enough to make his skin crawl.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Buddy, my whole life is a scary movie.” He hit disconnect without hesitation, shaking his head.
He loved fall. Loved autumn. Loved all the same basic bitch shit as Zane, Felix, Ever, and Shiloh. Every October, they dragged their partners out for apple-picking, cider donuts at the pumpkin patch, haunted house marathons. Once, even a hayride.
But only once.
That was how they’d learned Ever was violently allergic to hay.
The poor thing had ballooned up like a Macy’s day parade float.
For anyone else, a trip to the ER for anaphylaxis would have been a disaster.
Not their little Ever. He’d been delighted—three firsts in one night: hayride, ER, and discovering he could die from hay.
Noah’s phone buzzed again. Unknown number. He swiped it to voicemail, jaw tightening. Should he finish the kitchen or go throw a ball for the dogs? Adam had left hours ago with the twins—something about helping pick up the costumes for Dad’s Halloween weekend.
When the phone rang a third time, Noah snarled, snatching it up. “Get a life.”
“Don’t hang up,” the tinny growl came again, warped and unsettling.
Noah hung up.
Prank. Had to be. Some idiot who thought they were clever. Noah loved the Scream movies. They were a Halloween staple but being on the receiving end of nuisance phone calls was a lot more annoying than he’d imagined. But he wasn’t going to let it ruin his fall.
He loved the crisp air, the fire-colored leaves, the pumpkin-spice everything. But the closer it crawled to Halloween, the stranger people got. Serenity Grove was no exception. Something about this place made people feral.
Maybe the spice in pumpkin spice was a street drug. Had to be. Nothing else explained the way otherwise reasonable adults lost their minds like it was Thunderdome season.
Case in point: the last HOA meeting. An actual screaming match over whether full-size or fun-size candy bars were mandatory. Whether green counted as a ‘traditional’ Halloween color or if it was strictly orange, black, and purple. Whether they had to let kids from outside the gates trick-or-treat.
Just last night, Claude and Gert had gotten into a knock-down, drag-out fight over a fifteen-foot plastic scarecrow frozen in a Karate Kid—style crane stance on his front lawn.
Gert swore it terrified her dog. Claude told her to walk the other way.
She threatened to call the HOA. He threatened to litter her lawn with purple and orange flamingos.
She slapped him across the face with her dog’s leash like it was a dueling glove.
He held his cheek with such affront that Noah had just… stood there, frozen.
It was a mess.
Funny, but a mess.
Eventually, Adam had intervened. Adam. His Adam.
The chaos king. The scourge of the Mulvaney family.
The one who’d taught every Mulvaney kid proper waterboarding techniques and how to hotwire a car blindfolded.
How the hell had they moved to a neighborhood where his husband was the most normal resident on the street?
Even Noah was starting to feel a little crazy.
And soon, it would affect the whole family.
Jericho and Freckles’ house—built on the massive lot behind theirs—would be ready in less than four weeks. Felix, Zane, and the twins’ house right next door would be finished two weeks after that. August and Lucas had bought the home six doors down, unwilling to wait with baby number four coming.
Aiden and Thomas were still on the fence about moving.
Dad wasn’t sure he could part with the family home.
He worried that any new place wouldn’t accommodate everyone for the holidays, and they’d already dropped millions creating a children’s wing.
Theo and the grandlittles all had their own bedrooms in the Mulvaney mansion now.
Noah was relieved to have reinforcements but not-so-secretly worried the Stepford-husband trend would take root in all the others and he’d end up the protagonist nobody believed. Thomas had said he’d always believe him. Which was nice. Noah had even teared up a little.
When his phone rang again, he was watching the dogs roll in the dirt, shredding their new Halloween sweaters.
“Hello?” he muttered, distracted.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” the voice asked.
Noah rolled his eyes again. “Are we gonna do this all night or are you just gonna jump out of a closet and kill me? If I’m gonna die, I’d rather do it before I finish the kitchen, not after.”
He hung up before they could answer. He needed to bring the dogs in—
He gasped as something cold and metallic pressed to the side of his neck, his heart rate galloping. His gaze darted upward to the glass above the kitchen sink, the reflection sharpening as the sun bled out of the sky.
A rubber Ghost Face mask stared back at him. Long black robe. A gloved hand holding what looked like a knife—or a very convincing prop—while a warm, solid body pinned him to the counter, draping itself over him like a shadow.
Noah’s rational brain whispered it was Adam. His pulse whispered it wasn’t.
Noah assessed the situation. The blade against his throat was very real.
If he moved anywhere his assailant didn’t want him to, he’d bleed.
The edge bit just enough to sting, cold steel kissing his pulse.
He didn’t know what it said about him that he was already hard, his cock trapped painfully between the granite and his body, throbbing with every panicked beat of his heart.
“If you’re not my husband, you really picked the wrong guy to fuck with,” Noah said, leaning back against Adam’s chest. The heat pouring off the man was familiar, steady, and it made Noah’s stomach twist with dark anticipation. “He’s really, really protective of me.”
“Is that so?” the mechanical voice asked, low and inhuman, the distortion rattling straight through Noah’s bones.
“Mm,” Noah confirmed, reaching behind him to grip the robe on either side, pulling him tighter against him.
The scent was Adam. The way the body moved with his was Adam.
But the mask staring back at him in the glass?
That was wrong enough to ping his lizard brain.
He was now more convinced than ever that it was Adam behind him.
Who else could afford a mask with a built-in voice modulator?
And after all these years, it wasn’t like he didn’t know his own husband’s every trick.
“I’m sure you don’t want to die screaming,” Noah taunted, letting just enough bravado bleed into his voice.
“You’re gonna be the only one screaming tonight.”
Yeah, that was definitely Adam.
Noah snorted. “Promises, promises.”
The knife withdrew, but before Noah could do more than turn around, Adam had him tossed over one shoulder, carrying him down the hall like he weighed nothing. Noah cackled loudly, caught off guard, his fists thumping uselessly against Adam’s back.
When Adam set him back on his feet, they were in their bedroom. “You sure seem to know my house,” Noah observed, heart still hammering.
Adam didn’t acknowledge the question, just stepped back, towering. “Strip.”
“You could say please,” Noah pouted, dragging it out.
Noah stared at the hollow eyes of the mask as he flicked open each button on his shirt, testing Adam’s patience just for the thrill of it.
Danger was hot. Danger in Adam’s hands was scorching.
His husband had a tendency to grow…impatient when he was denied what he wanted, and when Adam got impatient, he got mean. Noah loved when Adam was mean.
It only took about ten more seconds for Adam to growl, yanking Noah closer by his shirt before ripping it open, little plastic projectiles flying everywhere. “Strip. Faster,” the mechanical voice spat, warped and merciless.
Noah sighed, then tossed his ruined shirt to the ground. “I liked that shirt.”
“Then you should have taken it off when I told you to.”
Noah worked open the button and zipper on his jeans, then stepped free of them, kicking them away. He gestured with a flourish. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He never did when they were at home. Adam had ruined too many pairs.
“There you go, Mr. Scary Ghost Face,” he said, putting on his best Marilyn voice. “But you better hurry up if you plan to defile me before my husband gets home.”
Adam’s hand closed around Noah’s throat, yanking him forward hard enough to make him stumble, squeezing the sides until Noah’s vision sparked. “You’re awfully mouthy for someone who’s naked and defenseless.”
Fuck, he had big hands. The pressure was possessive, not crushing, and Noah’s cock jerked at the hold, pre-come already leaking down his thigh.
“Oh, we both know I’m not defenseless. I’m just humoring you,” Noah managed, giving him a smug smile even as his head swam from the sudden loss of blood flow. “And if you don’t like me talking, maybe you should find a way to shut me up?”