Page 27 of Air Of Mystery (Witches On The Hill #4)

I couldn’t base my protection going up against a preternatural creature on urban legend and the work of an old Irish novelist. I needed something with muscle, and so I pulled from the trunk my expandable baton.

Compact, durable and efficient, it was tactical gear that I could clip onto my belt as well.

In seconds, with a snap of my wrist I would be able to defend myself.

After loading up I grabbed my miniature GoPro camera and laced up my heaviest boots. Once I was dressed, I let myself out the fire escape. I went down the metal, spiral stairs and started for my car.

In contrast to what I was about to take on, it was a beautiful day. The temperatures were in the 50s, the leaves were putting on a great show of autumn colors, and a light breeze sent a few fallen leaves past me as I hurried to my car.

I made it across town to the Middleton historic district in under fifteen minutes.

Parking my car a few houses down the street from the Thompsons, I let myself out and locked the car.

I’d barely had time to pocket my keys before my cell phone rang.

It was Corrine letting me know that she hadn’t seen any movement across the street since we’d spoken.

Thanking her, I gave her a wave towards where she stood inside her house peering out her front window and disconnected the call.

Then I switched my phone over to silent.

Taking a deep breath, I clipped my camera to my shirt and hit record. It was small enough that most folks wouldn’t even realize what it was. But my instincts were screaming that I should document this...not for my show, but because I might need proof of this later.

Taking a deep breath, I psyched myself up and started across the street. I made it about two steps before a bright yellow scooter whipped right up beside me, causing me to jump back out of the way.

The rider pulled their helmet off and scowled at me. “You freaking idiot!”

“Sunny?” I was shocked at her arrival. “What the hell?”

“You’re damn lucky I’ve been staying tuned in.” She tucked her helmet under one arm. “I’ve been having nothing but the most horrible Dracula-inspired nightmares about this house ever since I was here.” She poked me in the shoulder. “And you—you’ve played a starring role in all of them.”

“Meaning?”

“It was a warning! My subconscious’ way of giving me a heads up that you were gonna get hurt doing something stupid like trying to face this thing down on your own.”

“Things have escalated,” I tried to explain, walking back to the curb as she pulled the scooter to the side of the street and parked it behind my car. “Someone needs help, maybe rescuing.”

Sunny secured her helmet to the back of the scooter. “Well, you’re not going in there alone, Skye! You just got yourself a wingman.”

“Sunny,” I said, trying to be reasonable. “You are a dog groomer.”

“And I’m a Witch and a psychic!” she shot back.

“Regardless, you’re not prepared for this type of—”

“Oh, and you are?” She tossed her long, braided ponytail over one shoulder. “You gonna tell me this is like a typical Friday for you?”

“I’ve battled against the darker side of the paranormal before, you haven’t.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’d be surprised at what I come across as a psychic, Skye. You’re not the only one who has tangled with the dark side of our world.”

“Have you ever personally come up against a vampire before?” I asked, trying to keep my voice down. It was hardly discreet arguing on the street—even if we were still a few houses down.

“Psychic vampires—yes, I have. They’re nasty,” Sunny pointed out. “How about you, have you ever defended yourself from a psychic vampire attack?”

“I’ve seen my fair share of poltergeists, malevolent hauntings, and pissed off earth elementals,” I argued. “Once I took on a Djinn that had a penchant for starting fires!”

“Wow. That’s butch,” she snarked. “You should get that tattooed on your arm. It might impress the tourists.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Sunny.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Sunny tossed up her hands. “This is stupid! We’re both wound up and we’re feeding off that energy by arguing. We need to stop.”

“You’re right,” I agreed with a nod. “I’m sorry. We should be conserving our energy instead of bickering.” Slowly I drew a deep breath in an attempt to calm and center myself. But a second later my lips twitched, and a helpless laugh escaped.

“What are you laughing at?” she demanded.

“You dropped the F bomb.” I snickered. “You rarely swear. Maybe that’s why it’s so funny when you do.”

Sunny tossed her head. “Yeah, well, I have every bit as much experience with magick and energetic attacks as you do—maybe more.”

“That’s technically true.”

Sunny patted her chest. “And besides, I’m loaded for bear.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, I looked closely at her. Sunny was wearing sturdy jeans, tennis shoes, and a khaki-colored fishing vest that boasted a ton of large pockets...

And the vest was layered over a vintage Buffy the Vampire Slayer T-shirt.

“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes. “ Buffy ?”

“It seemed appropriate,” Sunny said, completely serious.

“Well, you may want to channel your inner Buffy tonight, because I have a feeling we are going to need it.”

“Oh, I am,” she said. And with that, Sunny grinned and pulled a blue and orange, pistol-type water blaster from her oversized pocket.

My jaw dropped. “Does that have holy water in it?”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course it does. I made a quick pit stop at a Catholic church and filled up.”

My jaw dropped. “They let you do that?”

“Father Donovan is a friend; and his cocker spaniel is a client of mine.” Sunny smiled. “This ‘dog groomer’ has connections, baby.”

“Nice.” I whistled in appreciation.

“I told Father Donovan I needed his help with a spiritual matter, and he didn’t ask questions.” Sunny slipped the water pistol back in her vest’s oversized pocket. “He is praying for us, though.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ll take whatever sort of help, spiritual or otherwise, that we can get.”

“I brought two of these water blasters,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “Want one?”

I laughed. “You bet I do.”