hitched up one eyebrow in response.
Thin lips pressed together in a pinched white line. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.” Her parting words hung in the air as she disappeared in a shower of twinkling white lights.
“Neither do you ,” I muttered to the darkness.
Chapter 11
My knees bent to absorb the shock from my second story plummet. I didn’t let it slow me in the slightest, but turned on my heel and stomped toward my truck.
“ Dramatic exit executed with such an intense vigor,” an easily recognizable, and often infuriating, voice murmured from the shadows. “Where could you possibly be heading in such a huff?”
I made no attempts to stifle my groan as Rowan slunk out from behind the big oak tree next to Gram’s driveway. “Isn’t it kind of stalker-ish to lurk outside my house, even by your standards?”
“What makes you think I’m here to see you?” Rowan sauntered over with his usual swagger. “Actually, you have the makings of a sitcom happening in your garage. A band of misfit demons begged to take refuge amongst the yard tools and motor oil. Your follicly gifted brother allowed them to stay, as long as they never leave that Neanderthal thug’s sight. Oh, and my personal favorite moment, he made them recite that their wellbeing mattered less than every other item in the garage. Which was followed by a whiny discussion about how hurtful it was to know a lawn mower held greater value than their lives. It was very riveting stuff.”
Wordlessly I stared, running my tongue over my teeth in an intentional display of my growing aggravation.
“Al l right, I came to see you. Is that so horrible?” One flaxen eyebrow lifted suggestively. His wandering leer skimmed the length of my frame. “I thought maybe I could come inside and tuck you in—”
I held up one hand to silence him. “Can we pass on the skeevy pirate routine? In case you misconstrued that dramatic exit, that wasn’t me training for Cirque Du Soleil . I’m kind of in a hurry to get out of here, without alerting the rest of Team Garrett.”
The shadows cast by the streetlights sharpened the angles of Rowan’s face as he peered up at my open bedroom window. My curtains flapped and swayed in the night breeze, blown outside by my rash exit. “Something riled up our fated Chosen One and sent her storming off all by her lonesome, hell-bent on committing some brave act that other’s would deem monumentally stupid.” He glanced my way, his usual arrogance replaced by somber understanding. “Am I close to the mark?”
I bristled at how well he could read me. Mostly because it acted as a painful reminder of our past—the good, the bad, and the gnomey. “Look, I get that you’re plagued with guilt and feel you have something to prove because of it. Selling a friend out tends to have that effect. Regardless, right now I need you to pause your inner turmoil because I have somewhere to be.”
“Would that place happen to be your own funeral?” he asked as I turned toward my truck. “Seems to me without your sword or your shield this march is destined to become your funeral precession.”
“At least then this will all be over ,” I muttered under my breath and yanked open the driver’s side door.
In a puff of black smoke , Rowan materialized in front of me and slammed the door shut. “Let’s stop the emo theatrics before ya start combing your hair straight forward and subjecting us all to that dreadful music.”
“What do you want here, Row?” I threw my hands in the air , letting them fall and slap against the sides of my legs. “You want the big reveal so you can try and talk me out of it? That’s fine, because it won’t change a thing. See, today has been the worst day in the history of bad days. Which, at first, I thought was an unfortunate coincidence. But now I realize that this is it—the big crescendo that’s been building since the moment I got my calling. Well, I’m tired
Thin lips pressed together in a pinched white line. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.” Her parting words hung in the air as she disappeared in a shower of twinkling white lights.
“Neither do you ,” I muttered to the darkness.
Chapter 11
My knees bent to absorb the shock from my second story plummet. I didn’t let it slow me in the slightest, but turned on my heel and stomped toward my truck.
“ Dramatic exit executed with such an intense vigor,” an easily recognizable, and often infuriating, voice murmured from the shadows. “Where could you possibly be heading in such a huff?”
I made no attempts to stifle my groan as Rowan slunk out from behind the big oak tree next to Gram’s driveway. “Isn’t it kind of stalker-ish to lurk outside my house, even by your standards?”
“What makes you think I’m here to see you?” Rowan sauntered over with his usual swagger. “Actually, you have the makings of a sitcom happening in your garage. A band of misfit demons begged to take refuge amongst the yard tools and motor oil. Your follicly gifted brother allowed them to stay, as long as they never leave that Neanderthal thug’s sight. Oh, and my personal favorite moment, he made them recite that their wellbeing mattered less than every other item in the garage. Which was followed by a whiny discussion about how hurtful it was to know a lawn mower held greater value than their lives. It was very riveting stuff.”
Wordlessly I stared, running my tongue over my teeth in an intentional display of my growing aggravation.
“Al l right, I came to see you. Is that so horrible?” One flaxen eyebrow lifted suggestively. His wandering leer skimmed the length of my frame. “I thought maybe I could come inside and tuck you in—”
I held up one hand to silence him. “Can we pass on the skeevy pirate routine? In case you misconstrued that dramatic exit, that wasn’t me training for Cirque Du Soleil . I’m kind of in a hurry to get out of here, without alerting the rest of Team Garrett.”
The shadows cast by the streetlights sharpened the angles of Rowan’s face as he peered up at my open bedroom window. My curtains flapped and swayed in the night breeze, blown outside by my rash exit. “Something riled up our fated Chosen One and sent her storming off all by her lonesome, hell-bent on committing some brave act that other’s would deem monumentally stupid.” He glanced my way, his usual arrogance replaced by somber understanding. “Am I close to the mark?”
I bristled at how well he could read me. Mostly because it acted as a painful reminder of our past—the good, the bad, and the gnomey. “Look, I get that you’re plagued with guilt and feel you have something to prove because of it. Selling a friend out tends to have that effect. Regardless, right now I need you to pause your inner turmoil because I have somewhere to be.”
“Would that place happen to be your own funeral?” he asked as I turned toward my truck. “Seems to me without your sword or your shield this march is destined to become your funeral precession.”
“At least then this will all be over ,” I muttered under my breath and yanked open the driver’s side door.
In a puff of black smoke , Rowan materialized in front of me and slammed the door shut. “Let’s stop the emo theatrics before ya start combing your hair straight forward and subjecting us all to that dreadful music.”
“What do you want here, Row?” I threw my hands in the air , letting them fall and slap against the sides of my legs. “You want the big reveal so you can try and talk me out of it? That’s fine, because it won’t change a thing. See, today has been the worst day in the history of bad days. Which, at first, I thought was an unfortunate coincidence. But now I realize that this is it—the big crescendo that’s been building since the moment I got my calling. Well, I’m tired
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