Page 40 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Lindy

Lindy pushed the exterior door open and froze in her tracks when she saw it was still storming.

Bill had been right about the weather changing.

Shortly after the bar had opened, so had the skies.

It had stormed heavily for what felt like forever before easing up to a drizzle.

Apparently, the weather gods were toying with her because it was raining hard again.

She hoisted the bag over her shoulder like Santa of the trash world and stepped into the downpour.

The security light at the corner of the building flickered, probably from the storm.

If it was dying, it would need to be replaced right away.

She didn’t want to invite trouble, and having an unlit back parking lot seemed like it would be doing just that.

She'd have to remember to call the electrician tomorrow to check it out.

“When I find Irwin, I'm going to kill him,” she muttered, trudging through the rain. The dumpster wasn't that far. She'd made this trip hundreds of times before, though usually not alone and in the rain.

The wet pavement flashed with reflections from the flickering security light, creating odd patterns of shadow and gleam. It would have been pretty had it not gotten a soundtrack from Mother Nature of thunder rolling across the night sky.

A stray cat darted across the lot, startling her more than it should have.

Her succubus side, which had been so interested in Jesse moments before, went unnaturally still.

The dumpster seemed further away than normal, but that was absurd.

It was in its usual spot, surrounded by a six-foot wood fence on three sides.

The storm, the stray cat, and the flickering light were making her jumpy.

Lindy’s inner darkness began to thump rhythmically, as if tapping to get her attention.

She ignored it, dredging onward, the trash bag feeling heavier and heavier with each step.

The feeling reminded her of last week when she'd been closing up and could have sworn someone was watching her from the tree line. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so rattled all day and so sure she was being watched.

She made it to the dumpster and lifted the lid, getting hit with rainwater rolling off it in the process. Her nose scrunched. “Gross! Trash water!”

She managed to get the bag into the dumpster and let the lid drop, only to be hit with more splattering water.

She groaned and turned to head back into the bar and get the next bag.

She paused, her attention going to a cluster of wet cigarette butts all in a small area near the base of the dumpster.

She’d taken the trash out last night and didn’t recall seeing them.

Irwin used to smoke out back, but these weren’t his brand.

At least she didn’t think they were, but since the butts were soaked, she wasn’t so sure.

Bending, she picked them up, one by one. Each one she lifted left a tiny shudder racing through her, filling her with unease. She tossed them into the dumpster.

The security light flickered again, and something rustled in the tall grass beyond the wooden fence near the dumpster. Her succubus side went from thinking about Robert and how good he’d tasted when she’d fed on their combined sexual energy months ago to full alert instantly.

Scanning the darkness, seeing nothing but shadows and rain, Lindy tried to calm her nerves.

It didn’t work. This wasn't the first time she'd felt as if she were being watched lately.

Last week, she'd caught movement near the tree line while taking out trash at her house and could have sworn she’d seen a man there.

Upon further investigation, nothing was there.

The sensation of being stalked, of being prey, brought back memories of that day behind the grocery store.

She'd been thinking about that incident more than usual this past week.

Maybe because lately, she kept catching glimpses of movement just at the edge of her vision, that same predatory presence she'd felt back then.

And more than once over the past week or so, when she was entering her home or had a window open late at night, she could have sworn she smelled the same cheap cigarettes that Cigarette-Man had smoked, mixing with the smell of fake pine that always reminded her of her missing cook.

While no one was actually outside of her home, she’d been rattled enough that she hadn’t chased Robert away when he’d shown up on her porch, claiming he left a sweatshirt at her place when they knew he hadn’t.

She quickened her pace as she hurried toward the back entrance of the bar, hoping to walk off her nerves.

A low rumble of thunder covered any other sounds, but she could have sworn she heard a person whistling, followed quickly by what sounded like a massive house cat.

Something large moved in the shadows. Her skin prickled, and her darkness tapped harder against her consciousness, wanting to be set free.

Hell no!

She didn’t care if she was about to be eaten by a huge bear or trampled by a moose. She was not about to let her darkness up to help. It was so hungry it would binge-eat every guy in the tri-state area sexually. Her vagina would become a mass murderer.

Nope. Not happening.

Still, she found herself walking faster back to the bar, her wet clothes clinging uncomfortably.

The distance seemed to stretch endlessly, and each flash of lightning cast new shadows that played tricks with her eyes.

Shadows seemed to transform from familiar shapes into menacing silhouettes.

Her skin prickled as movement caught her eye again.

Was that a mountain lion crouched in the grass, or was her imagination running wild?

She wasn’t about to stick around and find out.

Lindy ran for the door, her boots slipping on the wet pavement.

The handle was slick with rain as she grabbed it, nearly losing her grip before yanking it open.

She stumbled inside, slamming the door with enough force to make her teeth rattle.

Her foot caught on one of the remaining trash bags, and she tumbled back and over them.

She twisted in the process, her hands shooting out to break her fall.

Pain sliced across her palm as she caught her hand on a piece of broken glass in one of the bags she’d landed on.

“Son-of-a- ouch !” she muttered as she lay partially on the bags and partially off, thankful there was no one here to witness her one-woman comedy routine.

She pushed herself up, examining the gash across her palm.

It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but it was deep enough to hurt and bleed.

She got to her feet and grunted, frustrated with herself for getting spooked by a storm and a stray cat.

Growling under her breath, Lindy grabbed two bags of trash with her good hand. She wasn't that helpless teenager anymore, and this was her place—her bar.

Her territory.

She wasn’t going to get in her head so much that she freaked herself out and ended up hurt again.

No. She was going to put on her big girl panties and handle what needed to be handled, like taking out the trash.

There were no monsters, no bears, no moose, and no mountain lions, just her overactive imagination.

Her darkness stirred restlessly within her.

Instead of its usual gnawing hunger for sexual energy, it felt different, almost alarmed.

Was it worried too? That couldn’t be a good sign.

Did it sense a threat, or was her panic rubbing off on it?

She honestly wasn’t sure which she was hoping for.

If her special brand of paranoia were rubbing off on it, that would suck, but if there was a real threat outside and her succubus side co-signed on it, she was screwed.

Thunder boomed outside so loudly that it shook the bar, making her jolt and squeeze the trash bags tighter.

The interior exit light flickered, as did several other lights within the bar.

The bar had a backup generator, but it was older than her and unreliable.

The thing would probably catch fire and burn the bar down.

The sound of lightning striking not far from the building left her jerking back from the door momentarily and her heart racing.

She hated feeling vulnerable. Hated how a simple task like taking out the trash could leave her paralyzed with fear and her heart racing.

Teresa would have her head if she could see her now, cowering at the door, afraid of stray cats and bumps in the night.

After all the years of self-defense training and all the detailed discussions on how Lindy could weaponize her succubus side, Teresa would be so disappointed in her. She’d expect more—better.

Lindy stared at the door handle like it might come to life and bite her, letting fear and her overactive imagination win out.

Flashes of the last time she’d been uneasy like this came flooding back, bringing with them thoughts of Cigarette-Man and the smell that accompanied him.

In the blink of an eye, he’d taken her relatively safe world and turned it on its head, leaving her thrust into a world of supernaturals.

A world she had yet to fully embrace.

A trickle of blood slid down her palm and onto the trash bag she was holding, reminding her of Teresa’s warning about Cigarette-Man being able to track her scent and her blood.

Stop freaking yourself out, she thought sternly. He’s not outside. You’re more likely to die from an infection than by his hand.

She didn’t want to think about the amount of bacteria she was getting in the cut holding trash bags. She should clean the cut and wrap it, but the trash would still need to be taken out. No point in getting a fresh bandage dirty. She’d handle that all after the garbage was in the dumpster.

“If I can stop being a baby and take it there,” she said softly. “I can do this. I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m a grown, capable woman who is more than human. I can totally handle myself against just about anything. I even managed to avoid screaming when Fluffy showed up on my porch.”

With a new lease on life, or at the very least, inflated courage for the moment, Lindy used her foot to push open the door, trash bags in hand. She stepped out and slammed straight into an unmoving force. A scream flew free from her, and she dropped the bags of trash.

So much for courage.

Strong arms wrapped around her, and she realized the muscular chest she was against was familiar and didn’t stink of cigarette smoke.

"Rough night?" Robert's voice washed over her, familiar and steady. His gaze dropped to her bleeding hand, and his whole demeanor shifted from relaxed to alert instantly.

“Did your aunt call you?” she asked, wondering if Teresa had enlisted Robert as backup.

His brows met. “No. Why? What’s wrong, and what happened to your hand?”

“It's just a scratch. I tripped and cut myself on a shard of glass in the bag. It’s no big deal,” she said, but he was already reaching for the bags. Her darkness stirred, and she stepped back fast, assuming it would try to latch onto him. Oddly, it didn’t, but it didn’t vanish either.

Run , it whispered deep within her.

Run? Why in the hell would it want her to run from Robert? He’d never harm her. The man had let her kill him and wanted to repeat the process.

Run, it repeated. Find him.

Who in the hell did her darkness want her to find? Robert? He was standing right there. No need to look for him.

Flashes of Jesse filled her head.

She jerked slightly. Why did it want her to find Jesse? That couldn’t be a good thing. Did it want to drain him dry next?

She did the opposite of running toward the rescue where Jesse would be working, choosing instead to stand perfectly still, afraid to move for fear of giving in to whatever sick, twisted game it wanted to play.

Robert sniffed the air and raked his gaze over her slowly. “It’s bad tonight, isn’t it? The need?”

She shook her head, a lie falling from her lips before she could rethink it. “No. It’s fine.”

Disappointment showed on his face. He knew she was lying to protect him. “Lindy, let me help you.”

The concern in his eyes made her stomach twist. Even now, months after the incident, he still looked at her like she was something precious that needed protecting instead of something dangerous that he should avoid at all costs.

Even if she did suddenly trust her self-control around him, her succubus side wasn’t hungry for Robert. No. It wanted Jesse, and Lindy feared whatever sick game it was playing with her would leave someone else dead.

She swallowed hard before pressing a smile to her face. “Sure. You can help by taking the trash to the dumpster. It’s heavy.”