melted on my tongue.
Chapter 15
Tip 433: Hair pulling is a perfectly acceptable form of fighting.
The loud sound of snoring woke me from a dreamless sleep; my favorite kind. Opening my eyes I saw Pancake’s little black nose just inches from my face. Slowly as to not wake her, I lifted her off my chest and placed her in the warm spot I just left. My mind still covered in the fog of sleep, I absentmindedly looked around the room. Bright sunshine was streaming into the living room through the large arched windows. Other than Pancake’s snoring, all was quiet in the apartment.
I stood up and stretched my hands over my head and walked into the bathroom that was connected to Jenny’s room. I could just make her out in the other room, bundled up under her favorite yellow blanket. Quietly closing the door, I went to the sink and found the spare toothbrush I kept here. Brushing the fur off my teeth helped but I still felt gross, not having showered since before yesterday. Time to fix that.
Once clean, I dried off and dressed in a pair of Jenny’s yoga pants and a fitted white T-shirt. I gathered my dirty clothes and went into the laundry room off the kitchen. I threw my clothes in the washer along with the little pile of Jenny’s from the hamper and started the cycle.
As I headed back into the kitchen I made a promise to myself that I would stop at home sometime today to get more clothes. I made a pot of coffee and while I waited for it to brew I flipped through a textbook Jenny had left on the counter. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the book other than it was a Statistics book. I sent up a silent thanks Mom had decided school was no longer needed after Dad died. Somehow I doubted figuring out graphs or whatever this was would help me kill a Demon.
The coffee done, I carried my cup over to Jenny’s work area; I still couldn’t figure out why she had a coffee maker when she lived above her own coffee shop. Ace and Shooter were over here enough and could easily be relied on to get coffee if she asked; they were pretty good at fetch, though Jenny and I were still working on “sit” and especially “be good.”
I sat down at the computer, entering her password and user name and opened the internet. Ugh, there was nothing good in the news; the usual death and destruction of the human variety. Like I didn’t have enough of that in my life? I minimized it.
When it sunk to her tool bar at the bottom of the screen, I saw she had another link open. I hesitated for almost a whole second before clicking on it. Another testament to my willpower.
Holy crap, Jenny was bad...really really bad; I loved it. Hacking into the Guardians’ historical files: no biggie, she’d done that last year. But their personnel files? This was so much better and more than a little badass. I didn’t hesitate when I clicked on the search bar. A small red box filled the screen, the cursor flashing in the middle. I typed in Max…well crap, I didn’t even know his last name. How was I supposed to snoop properly with only a first name? Sitting back, I spun around in the chair a few times in frustration.
I had the whole Guardian database at my fingertips and no idea what to do. I wondered what they had on me. I typed in my name and hit enter.
Seven boxes appeared on the screen, my name was in the center box and connected to me by dotted lines were the other six. The two grey ones were labeled with my parents’ names. My stomach rolled and I felt queasy as I read the names in the white boxes: Travis “Ace” Rand, Michael “Shooter” McGuire, Jennifer Marie Barton and Father Joseph Henry. This was not good.
The sound of the front door opening had me minimizing the screen and jumping out of the chair, my guilt complex in full-on ‘hand in the cookie jar’ mode. I walked out into the main room and saw Father Henry unloading a paper shopping bag on the kitchen
Chapter 15
Tip 433: Hair pulling is a perfectly acceptable form of fighting.
The loud sound of snoring woke me from a dreamless sleep; my favorite kind. Opening my eyes I saw Pancake’s little black nose just inches from my face. Slowly as to not wake her, I lifted her off my chest and placed her in the warm spot I just left. My mind still covered in the fog of sleep, I absentmindedly looked around the room. Bright sunshine was streaming into the living room through the large arched windows. Other than Pancake’s snoring, all was quiet in the apartment.
I stood up and stretched my hands over my head and walked into the bathroom that was connected to Jenny’s room. I could just make her out in the other room, bundled up under her favorite yellow blanket. Quietly closing the door, I went to the sink and found the spare toothbrush I kept here. Brushing the fur off my teeth helped but I still felt gross, not having showered since before yesterday. Time to fix that.
Once clean, I dried off and dressed in a pair of Jenny’s yoga pants and a fitted white T-shirt. I gathered my dirty clothes and went into the laundry room off the kitchen. I threw my clothes in the washer along with the little pile of Jenny’s from the hamper and started the cycle.
As I headed back into the kitchen I made a promise to myself that I would stop at home sometime today to get more clothes. I made a pot of coffee and while I waited for it to brew I flipped through a textbook Jenny had left on the counter. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the book other than it was a Statistics book. I sent up a silent thanks Mom had decided school was no longer needed after Dad died. Somehow I doubted figuring out graphs or whatever this was would help me kill a Demon.
The coffee done, I carried my cup over to Jenny’s work area; I still couldn’t figure out why she had a coffee maker when she lived above her own coffee shop. Ace and Shooter were over here enough and could easily be relied on to get coffee if she asked; they were pretty good at fetch, though Jenny and I were still working on “sit” and especially “be good.”
I sat down at the computer, entering her password and user name and opened the internet. Ugh, there was nothing good in the news; the usual death and destruction of the human variety. Like I didn’t have enough of that in my life? I minimized it.
When it sunk to her tool bar at the bottom of the screen, I saw she had another link open. I hesitated for almost a whole second before clicking on it. Another testament to my willpower.
Holy crap, Jenny was bad...really really bad; I loved it. Hacking into the Guardians’ historical files: no biggie, she’d done that last year. But their personnel files? This was so much better and more than a little badass. I didn’t hesitate when I clicked on the search bar. A small red box filled the screen, the cursor flashing in the middle. I typed in Max…well crap, I didn’t even know his last name. How was I supposed to snoop properly with only a first name? Sitting back, I spun around in the chair a few times in frustration.
I had the whole Guardian database at my fingertips and no idea what to do. I wondered what they had on me. I typed in my name and hit enter.
Seven boxes appeared on the screen, my name was in the center box and connected to me by dotted lines were the other six. The two grey ones were labeled with my parents’ names. My stomach rolled and I felt queasy as I read the names in the white boxes: Travis “Ace” Rand, Michael “Shooter” McGuire, Jennifer Marie Barton and Father Joseph Henry. This was not good.
The sound of the front door opening had me minimizing the screen and jumping out of the chair, my guilt complex in full-on ‘hand in the cookie jar’ mode. I walked out into the main room and saw Father Henry unloading a paper shopping bag on the kitchen
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