Page 6

6

JAMES

I place the card on the table, using it to complete the line in front of me. It's not something I should share with Hank and Will, they'd laugh about it. But it's one of the last connections I have to my mother, and I play every night to preserve her memory.

The Queen of Hearts calls out to me, and I stroke my finger down the side of it. Other than a single drop of dried blood, it's pristine, like the rest of the set. I don't know what happened to her, but the bloodstain hadn't been there before my mother died.

It was one of those things I have to accept. Like her death itself.

The door creaks open, and I spin around. The others know better than to interrupt me at this hour.

"Hank, if you're coming to tell me about the—" I stop as a cat slinks into the room. Crouching, I hold out my hand, hoping she'll come to me. I'm not an animal person, but there's something about this beautiful beast that makes me change my mind.

To my surprise, she pushes against my hand, her silky smooth fur soft to my touch.

"Hello. What's your name?" I ask, even though I know she won't answer. How can she?

Then again, I've seen weirder things in my time.

"What are you doing here?"

"Meow."

"Yes, me too," I respond with a sigh. Despite my better judgment, I lean against the wall and change my position. Opening my arms, I invite the cat onto my lap.

It's a weird thing to do, even I can admit that. And yet, it feels right. I don't question that too much. I've spent enough time around the supernatural to know that I should listen to my gut instincts.

The cat clambers onto my knee and curls up into a ball. Loud purrs emanate from her chest. I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall as a sense of peace overtakes me. This isn't what I expected when the creature walked into the room, but I won't complain.

My hand strokes down her back, and her purring increases, the vibrations spreading through my body, soothing me in a way I've never experienced.

"I've never had a pet, you know," I say to the animal. "Probably for the best. Father could be cruel, and I'm sure he'd have made life miserable for the creature like he did for my mother and me. My life's not been one I'd wish on anything innocent."

The words spill out without me meaning them to. But then, that’s why I like to be alone when I play my cards. It’s a time when I'm vulnerable. A time when I contemplate my past and my family.

"But you probably knew that when you came in here," I say to the cat, petting it gently.

I haven't told anyone about my life before this town. Not even Hank and Will, though they asked a couple of times when I first met them. They stopped as soon as they were met with stony silence too many times.

The cat pushes her head against my hand, urging me to touch her more.

I scoff to myself. "Why am I telling you this? You don't care about anything more than scratches and where your next meal is coming from."

It hisses, claws digging into the skin through my jeans.

Now, she's not the only one hissing. "Why did you do that?" I ask through gritted teeth.

Maybe this isn’t the world’s way of sending me a fluffy pet when I’m feeling lost and lonely.

But then she looks up at me with wide eyes and an innocent expression, and I know she didn’t mean it.

Cats. They're all the same. Love and affection one moment, claws and daggers the next. No loyalty at all.

"Maybe I'm more of a dog person after all," I mutter.

"Meow."

Oh no, now it sounds upset.

"There, there." I pat her head and hope that's enough.

A scuffling on the other side of the door draws my attention for a moment. It's probably Will goofing around again, nothing to worry about.

But the cat stills in my lap, clearly listening to the sound, too.

The door swings open, and the cat bolts under my bed, letting my hand fall into my lap.

"If you're jerking off, you should put a sock on your door," Will says, letting himself into the room without any pretense of waiting.

"I'm not." I glance over at the table where I left my cards. I don't want to draw attention to them, but I also don't want Will to see them.

"Then why are you sitting on the floor with your hand near your dick?"

I roll my eyes. "Is sex all you ever think about?"

"Tell me one thing that’s better to think about."

"You're incorrigible." I push myself off the floor and walk over to the table, trying not to draw too much attention.

Will doesn't seem to notice what I'm doing. Thank god for small mercies. I stack the cards and slip them into the packet before putting them in my pocket.

He doesn't even question it. Something is amazing about the trust that exists between Hank and Will, and I suppose with me, too. It’s unlike anything I've ever experienced before. And yet, I'm still on guard for the moment they start prying into my past. There's too much to hide for me to be completely comfortable.

"What do you think of the girl next door?"

I shrug. "She’s pretty."

"And irritating. And mysterious," he adds, frowning.

"You got all that from our one meeting?"

He gets a guarded look. "She seems like the type to drive you nuts and then disappear. You know? That annoying kind of woman who screws with your head."

I laugh. "So, you seem to be thinking about her a lot."

He scowls. "Just about taking her on a date and banging her moody attitude away."

"Since when do you have to take a woman on a date to have sex with her?" I try not to examine the jealousy bubbling up in my gut. I don't want to get involved with anyone romantically, but if I did, then our new neighbor would be exactly the kind of woman I'd have in mind. Full of life and a determination to do what's right and damn anyone who stands in her way.

Or is that even who she is? Usually, my first impressions are right, but I don’t know Callie enough to feel this certain about her.

He runs his hand through his hair. "I thought I might take her for a date for other reasons, too."

"Oh?"

"You know, to find out how serious she is about her little mission."

"And you need to take her on a date to do that?"

His frown grows. "Only if I want to have her stick around long enough to tell me anything."

I sigh. "What’s going on, Will?"

He’s quiet for a long minute. "We need to talk about the golem."

Is that what this is about? "I don't think that’s anything we need to concern ourselves with."

Though, I do feel a sense of dread over the whole matter. There's only a couple people I know who could have created it, and only one lives nearby. I'm not ready for the conversation that will happen if the guys discover that.

"Golems are precisely the kind of thing we should be worried about." Will perches on one of the beds and leans back.

The cat hisses softly, her eyes glowing underneath the frame. Yet I don't tell my friend she's there. Diverting the conversation will only raise suspicion. I've been in this situation before, and it never ends well.

Secrets can destroy even the strongest bond if they're left to fester.

"They're normally only sent on specific missions," I remind him.

"And does it not worry you that the specific mission could reveal itself to the humans around?" he asks. "Or worse, put the journalist in danger?"

"You're worried about her encountering a golem again and getting hurt? Is that what this is about?"

I almost hope she does, if not for the fact that she'd be hurt. It'd keep her busy and out of trouble, unable to discover the other things of interest to someone looking for the paranormal in this town. Besides, I doubt any witch in this town would be dumb enough to create a golem and let a human see it.

She’s on a wild goose chase, which is better for everyone, including her.

Down any other path, there’s a lot more danger for her. Even death. And I wouldn't want to send anyone into that situation without them being at least a little prepared for it.

"I don’t care about the journalist. I—I mean, she’s an innocent human. Even if the golem ignores her in favor of its mission, that doesn’t mean she won’t attract the attention of the witches. And then there’s the specific witches capable of creating golems and more than willing to do it."

We both know who he’s talking about. "You think her hand is in this?"

He gives me an irritated look. "Of course. And I think Callie will end up dead if the witch sees her sniffing around."

I scoff. "That does sound like her."

"You agree we need to pay her a visit?" Will presses.

I grunt. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"James."

"Please, Will, drop it."

He cocks his head to the side, his gaze piercing into me.

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Why don’t you care more about this?" The look he gives me says it all. He's suspicious.

And with good reason.

"I don't see why it’s our job to rescue the neighbor."

"If you don't want to rescue people, you're in the wrong profession," Will quips.

A weak smile twists my lips. "Firefighting and saving beautiful women from golems are two different things."

"Are they?"

I try not to sound defensive. "A better question is why you care so much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so frantic before."

"I’m not frantic! Fuck! I think a human hunting a golem is something to worry about."

I shrug. "And I think golems are hardly the most dangerous thing in this town."

He’s quiet for a long minute. And even though I don’t look at him, I can feel his stare.

"Have you ever destroyed a golem before?" he asks.

"Of course not. I've stayed well away from them, as anyone with sense would."

"As any smart person does." Will looks away, but not before I catch the slightly haunted look in his eyes.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nothing more than we should keep an eye out, even if you don't want to find out more."

"Hmm." I don't like it. We stay out of the other supernatural goings-on in the town, and I want it to stay that way. The last thing I need is for the others to uncover things about my past. Things I keep hidden for good reason.

"Think about it, James. We need to do something, or people will die."

"Only those foolish enough to have made deals with a witch." And I don't have much sympathy for them. Suffering fools gets no one anywhere.

Will opens his mouth to respond before shutting it again.

I'm glad. I don't want to have to deal with more arguing about golems.

In the strained silence between us, the cat pops its head out from under the bed, looking up at me with startlingly intelligent eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd say she can understand what we're talking about. But that's impossible; she's a cat. There isn't even a hint of shifter on the creature. And I would know.

A shrill squeal comes through the firehouse, a flashing blue light filling the room. The cat screeches and rushes towards the door.

"Oh, she's back?" Will asks, as unbothered as I am by the squeal of the alarms.

"Yes, came in not long before you." I grab my jacket from the hook on the door. "Shall we?"

"I guess. But it better not just be old Mrs. Powers feeling lonely again."

"It’s our job."

"It'll be the same old, same old," Will responds dryly.

"It doesn't make it any less of our job." I hold the door open for him, and he ducks through.

It takes mere moments for us to get to where the fire engines are stationed.

"Thank fuck you're here," Hank says, rushing towards us.

"Is everything alright?" Will asks.

He shakes his head. "We've got a big fucking problem."

"Well? What is it?" A ball of dread is already sitting in my stomach. Hank's drawn face says it all.

"I think the golem is back."