Chapter 13
thiRteeN
THE ALARM WAS GOING off. I slapped blindly at the nightstand before jolting upright. That wasn't my phone alarm.
That was the house alarm.
Only—no. Not mine. Too loud. Too wrong.
What the fuck was happening now?
Barely audible under the screeching was pounding. I stumbled out of bed and shuffled to the front door. All the lights on the alarm panel were green. It wasn't my system. Heavy knocking on the door startled me out of my skin.
"Haven, it's Mr. Howard."
I threw the door open. "Jesus, you scared the daylights out of me. What the hell is happening?"
He waved toward creepy dude's house, which was engulfed in flames. Not a house alarm at all. The noise was from fire engines.
"They want us to go down the street and across the block. They don't think our houses will be affected, but just to be safe..."
"Right. Let me grab some shoes."
And maybe some pants, as I woke up enough to realize I was standing in my undies and a t-shirt so old and thin I may as well be wearing nothing. I slid into my claw-foot slippers and a robe and followed Mr. Howard down the block.
"I was going to wait until morning, but since we're both awake now, you should know I had my friends at the department look into those two officers who came by yesterday."
"Yeah?" I wasn't sure how awake I was, since I was staring blindly at the flames and only half listening.
"They aren't on the force."
That woke me up. "What do you mean?"
"I mean they're phony. The number on the card goes to an answering service that sounds legit, but it's not."
The light from the flames battled with the flashing lights on the fire and police vehicles. It sharpened the lines on his face. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"
I shook my head. "Not that I'm aware of." The lie burned hotter than the house. I knew I was in trouble. I just didn't know what kind, or where it was coming from.
I caught myself scanning the tree line. Whether I thought a villain or Quin was lurking in the woods, I had no idea. Either possibility was equally unhinged. I mentally smacked myself for the paranoia.
"So who are they?"
"I have no idea. My friends don't know either. They ran the names, but they're fake." He grabbed my hand in his weirdly strong for an old man grip. "Be careful, Haven. They walked like cops and talked like cops, but they aren't cops. I'd bet money they're law enforcement or military trained."
"FBI?"
"Unlikely. The names would have come up when my friend ran them."
He and I both stared at the flames for a minute. It didn't seem like the firefighters were getting it under control. If anything, it looked worse. I winced when my fingers snagged on a knot in my hair. I almost started crying. I just wanted some sleep, and for everything to be normal.
But when had anything been normal? Certainly not since the shadow in my bedroom. Certainly not since the bond lights. Certainly not since Quin.
I rubbed at my tattoo and mumbled, "A moth will always find the light." I couldn't give in to the overwhelm. I needed to organize my to-do list by priority.
Number one: find a place to sleep that a raging inferno didn't threaten.
"I need sleep. I'm going to ask if I can get my car. Want a ride to a hotel?"
Mr. Howard shook his head with a shy smile. "Rose is on her way to pick me up."
I teased him with a grin. "You two have fun."
The first fireman I approached pointed me to the man in charge. I waved toward my car. "Can I go to a hotel?" I tried to look as pitiful as possible. I probably looked like a constipated raccoon. Either way, it worked.
"Do you have your keys?"
"They're just inside the door on a hook."
He nodded and pointed at the ground. "You stay here. I'll get your keys and back your car out of our perimeter."
"Yes, sir." I didn't care if he wanted to take a tour through my underwear drawer if it meant I could go where a bed lived. My eyelids started to complain about my eyeballs turning into sandpaper.
A little voice in the back of my head said that I could go to Quin's house. I choked out that voice immediately. Weirdly, my inner voice sounded like a chicken.
I knew I would have to talk to him again sometime. I just preferred not to be in pajamas or running on two hours of sleep and diesel fumes.
I startled when tires crunched closer to my toes than I'd like. The fireman stepped out, having parked so the door opened exactly where I waited. Impressive.
"I locked up behind me, but couldn't set the alarm."
"Oh, thank you. There's an app for that. I can set it when I get settled."
He chuckled. "Of course there is. Drive safe."
I nodded and slid behind the wheel. My phone gave me directions to the closest hotel.
The Bama Inn. I crossed my fingers it was a quaint, fully remodeled small establishment and not the sort of place even the sex workers no longer stayed.
Honestly, at that point it could be crawling with bedbugs and I'd still flop on the bed.
Okay, maybe not bedbugs. I'd stayed in some pretty sketchy places before, but sharing space with bedbugs was a hard limit.
The Bama Inn was somewhere in between fancy towels and the roaches are packing up to leave. At least the sheets seemed clean, even if the room did smell of bleach and broken dreams.
The whole place was oddly quiet, except for the cicadas screaming just beyond the window. Every now and again, a junebug would bash itself against the glass. I wondered if I was the only one in residence as I drifted off to sleep.
The phone rang at seven in the morning. I was a cat's whisker away from drop-kicking it when I remembered I wasn't at home. I had enough on my bingo card without adding an arrest for destruction of property.
I groggily mumbled something into the headset that sounded sort of like a greeting and sort of like an elephant being pinched in the butt. I don't know what that sounds like, but it made sense at the time.
"Miss Ward?"
This sound was more like the grunt a dog makes when he's old and getting up after sleeping for an hour.
"This is Justin Beringer. I understand you've had some difficulty since arriving in Damruck."
The ice bucket challenge wouldn't have woken me up faster than hearing that name. "Mr. Beringer. Yes, it's been a bit of a rough start."
"I hope it hasn't scared you off."
"No! Uh, no. I assure you I'll be ready for work..." I was going to add the date, but my brain ate it like a hungry hippo. Lucky for me, the CEO of Novagen Solutions didn't seem to notice the lapse.
"I'm glad to hear that! I've arranged for you to receive a bonus. It's not a huge amount, but it should help get you settled after all the excitement."
"Thank you, sir. That's very kind."
"The receptionist will wait for you when you arrive. She'll help you get your credentials and get set up with an office. I regret I can't be there personally, but I assure you that Summer is the next best thing."
"I'm sure she's amazing." What was I even saying? I was about twenty percent online and still booting up, but from the screeching I'd say I had a fifty/fifty chance of a blue screen.
"If you need anything at all, just let her know."
"I will, thank you."
"Take care, Miss Ward."
The line clicked with an ominous finality. Or maybe that was just the creepy noises the room air conditioner was making.
I stumbled to the bathroom, remembered I didn't have any toiletries with me, snagged my fingers on an even bigger knot in my hair, cursed a blue streak and decided to just go home. There was no use in me staying in the hotel room any longer.
It was ten in the morning when I smacked myself into the solid wall of heat and humidity marked by the open door.
The night clerk told me I didn't need to check out.
I'd prepaid for the night and there weren't any add-ons like pay-per-view or a mini bar.
The lack of pay-per-view surprised me, but it made sense when I found an old-school tube TV in the room.
Judging by its looks, it had been there since the 70s, and was likely melded with the dresser beneath.
I shook my head as I pulled out of the parking lot. The fate of ancient hotel televisions was not my problem.
There was still a firetruck and several firemen parked in front of what was left of creepy neighbor's house. Which was not much. It had burned to ash, but strangely nothing else was even a tiny bit scorched. Suspiciously not scorched.
I threw up a hand in greeting as I traveled at light speed from the car to my front door. I didn't care about my appearance; they'd seen me last night, but I didn't want to spend any more time than necessary sucking in residual smoke. I could only hope the smell hadn't invaded my house.
I made it five steps down the hall when I was tackled from behind.