“Just…” I pointed in the direction of the house as the waitress showed up to take our drink order. “I haven’t been here long. It’s the court with the creepy house at the end. Usually people know—”
“Ivy House.” The waitress smiled and nodded, ready with her pen and paper. “Right? You’re talking about Ivy House?”
“Yes—”
“Right! I know that house.” Ron paused for me to order a glass of wine before ordering the same for himself. After the waitress left, we started looking at our menus, and he said, “So that’s cool, huh? Living on the street with that house? I heard the owner lives in Europe or something, and there’s an insane old woman next door who throws rocks at people trying to check it out…” He laughed at the insanity of it all and held up his hands. “I’m sure there are a lot of urban legends surrounding that house.”
I shrugged as the waitress came back with the drinks. “I don’t honestly know. I’ve only been there for a couple of months. But the woman at the end…that’s true. She really does that.”
“No!” He laughed, delighted, and I found myself smiling with him. He had a carefree, infectious laugh. “That’s hilarious. I’d go check it out for myself, but I don’t want to get hit by a rock!”
“Yeah, she’s a really good shot.” I chuckled, ready to order when the waitress returned.
When she left again, he said, “So how close do you live? Do you see ghosts or anything at night? I hear it’s really creepy.”
“It is creepy, and…I live in it, actually. I’m now the owner.”
He paused for a moment, his glass half raised to his lips. “Wait…you live…in the house? You own it?”
“Yeah. I recently bought it. I like creepy old houses.”
A crooked smile worked within his beard. He laughed. “What a trip.” He squinted at me and turned his face to the side, mockingly suspicious. “Are you pulling my leg? You are, aren’t you? You’re poking fun because I’m so curious.”
I put up my hands. “No, honest. I swear.” I laughed, my tension from earlier dripping away. He seemed so normal. Non-magical, curious, no idea what went bump in the night… The most he had to worry about was a house payment or rent, bills, dating—normal life stuff. He didn’t have to think about flying, or warding off advances from promiscuous creatures, or a crazy house, or learning magic. He didn’t have to worry about the danger I felt drawing ever nearer, or whether Austin would soon find out the hard way that he was not, in fact, the biggest, baddest alpha on the block. Or wonder what would happen to the rest of us if our fearless protector fell.
I sipped my wine, relieved for this one moment. Relieved for this return to my old normal, if only for a night. This was one of the reasons I’d wanted to date a Dick.
“Wow!” He leaned back as our plates arrived. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, because I don’t want to open a can of worms, but…is it haunted?”
I told him about the room of dolls, obviously leaving out the detail that they came alive. Working through our dinners, we spoke about little things, the conversation starting and stopping as we navigated the waters of small talk, working around to hobbies and things we did for fun. It wasn’t until we started talking about what we did for a living that the conversation came to a screeching halt.
“Oh…uh…” I laid down my fork and blotted my mouth, my plate nearly empty and my belly completely stuffed. “I actually came into some money recently, so right now I’m mostly concerning myself with…working on the house.”
It wasn’t a total lie. Working on my magic was similar to working on the house.
“Oh, yeah? Hmm.” He nodded. “What…uh… Does it need much work, or…”
“Quite a bit, actually,” I said. His eyebrows drew together in a troubled expression. “I kind of have to start from— What is it?”
I turned around to see what had given him such a constipated look.
Cedric walked our way, his dress shirt and slacks snug enough to show off his thick, corded muscle, his wings flaring out weirdly from beneath his thin jacket, and his expression hard as nails. His dark gaze pounded into Ron, clearly freezing him up and making him incredibly uncomfortable.
I put out my hand, facing Ron with a comforting smile. “That’s just my…cousin. He’s staying with me for a bit. You know, to sort out the house. I forgot my clutch when I walked out—he’s just bringing it for me.”
The clutch filled my waiting palm.
I smiled again and slipped it under the table.
“Thanks,” I said to Cedric, giving him a fleeting glance. I did a double take when I caught his look of death, still pounding into poor Ron. The unveiled threat was plain, as was the effect—Ron’s face looked ashen.