Pucker Up (A Damsels of Distress Novel) (7 page)

could, her foot slapping the pavement

with every push. Finally reaching the

house, she hopped off her board and

plowed through the small, wire gate

leading to the walk-way. A tingle grazed

the back of her neck as if she narrowly

escaped being grabbed. Running up the

front steps, she didn't even glance

backwards as she yanked the door open

and slammed it shut behind her.

She peeked out of the side

window. No one was there.
Maybe I

imagined it.
Slumping against the door,

she concentrated on slowing her

breathing. Mr. McGregor stood before

her, staring with one eyebrow raised.

Not wanting him to think she was

going insane, she glanced down at her

watch and smiled. “Beat my best time by

thirty seconds.”

He shook his head and walked

into the parlor to finish his drink.

After she calmed down, she

pushed away from the door and trod

upstairs. The pain in her wrist faded. If

only there was a way to remove the

damn mark before it went off again. She

barely had time to change into her

pajamas before she fell face first into

her soft bed and groaned.

This freakin' town is going to

kill me one day.

Chapter 5

“You're not ready yet?” Garren

eyed Ivy in her pajama bottoms and t-

shirt before he pushed past her, letting

himself in. He was dressed for a hike in

jeans and boots, but his ever-present

cologne filled the entryway. Strands of

his black hair hung over his eyes in a

purposely styled way.

She stifled a yawn as she glared

at his back.
Good morning to you, too
.

She had just crawled out of bed when

they knocked at the door way too early

in the morning. Thane skirted around her

with an apologetic smile.

She followed them into the

parlor. Most of the mess from her

skirmish with Mr. McGregor had been

cleaned up, but the crack in the wall

remained. Even the nefarious grape juice

stain mocked her from underneath

Garren's chair.

Thane was glossing over all the

titles on the bookshelf opposite the fire

place. Those had been a pain to put back

in order, according to Danny. It was the

least he could do to help her out.

“Make yourselves comfortable

and I'll be right back. Just don't touch

anything too much.” She spun around to

climb the stairs and ran into a freshly

made-up Athena.

“Who's here?” The blonde

peered around Ivy's shoulder to look in

the next room.

“It's my cousin and...” She wasn't

sure how to describe Garren. “Anyway,

can you keep them occupied while I get

cleaned up?”

A smile crept over Athena's face

as she caught sight of Garren drumming

his thumbs on the arms of the chair. “No

problem. Take your time.” She tossed

her hair back and sashayed into the

room. Ivy wasn't sure whom she felt

sorrier for, the prey or the predator.

When she bounded back down

the stairs, all clean and wide awake, she

found Athena and Garren getting cozy on

the love seat. The blonde ran her fingers

along his arm, gushing about how she

just loved hockey. The woman couldn't

tell the difference between the goalie

and the puck, but she was a big fan.

Over at the writing desk, Thane

was explaining something to Danny from

of one of Mr. McGregor's books. The

young werewolf's smile brightened as he

absorbed every word.

She cleared her throat when she

entered. Unable to watch Danny while

Mr. McGregor was out today, she

needed back up.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

she asked Athena. Leading her into the

kitchen, with Danny trailing behind, she

got right to the point. “We're going on a

little trip and I need you to stay home

today to keep an eye on Danny while Mr.

McGregor's out of town.”

“I don't need no babysitter!”

“Of course you don't,” she said

to Danny. “So, can you do that for me?”

she asked Athena.

“What's in it for me?” Athena

crossed her arms over her chest, a put-

upon expression on her face.

She should've known it wouldn't

be easy. “What do you want?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“Fifty.”

“Seventy-five.”

“Deal.” Turning to walk away,

she added quickly, “Oh, and I'm taking

Mr. McGregor's car.”

“You are, are you?” Athena said.

“I didn't think grand theft auto was your

style. I must be rubbing off on you.”

“It's not. You're not. And Mr.

McGregor won't find out, will he?”

“For another twenty-five bucks,

his car was parked out back the whole

time, if he asks,” Athena said with a

smug smile.

Ivy sighed. “Fine.” The list of

people demanding money from her was

growing fast.

“Yeah, me, too. Give me money

and I won't say nothin' either,” Danny

said.

“What?

You

owe

me,

remember?” She glared at him until he

backed down.

“Oh, yeah.” At least he had the

decency to look ashamed for trying to

extort money from her.

“Just make sure you have the car

back before he gets home. I won't tell

him you took it, but twenty-five dollars

doesn't buy my confession, either,”

Athena said as she led Danny out of the

kitchen.

Ivy's hand hovered over the car

keys hanging on the hook by the back

door. Stomach clenched, she gripped

them in her fist and lifted them free. The

keys felt like a two ton weight in her

hand.

Please, let us get back before

Mr. McGregor .

“If we're going, let's go,” she

yelled before heading out the door. The

sooner they left, the sooner she could get

back and hide any evidence that she

borrowed the car.

“Shotgun,” Garren yelled as he

stomped down the back steps.

Thane opened the front car door

and leaned the seat forward. “I believe

that since I have the map, I should sit in

the navigator's position, or front

passenger seat, if you will.”

She watched with glee as Garren

frowned and crammed himself into the

backseat of Mr. McGregor's classic red

1965 Mustang Fastback.

“All right, let's go over the rules.

No eating, drinking, or getting the car

messy in any way. It needs to look

exactly
as it is now when we get back,

or I'm dead.”

Garren sputtered. “Exaggerate

much?”

“Just keep it clean, okay?” She

took a deep breath and turned on the

ignition.
Lord have mercy on my soul
.

As they drove out of town, they

past a sign that read, “You are now

leaving Salmagundi. Have a nice day.”

She snorted. They were leaving the

protection of the wards behind them,

exposing themselves to any nearby

Eradicator that might sense them, but

they should remember to have nice day.

She locked her door.

“Why are we risking getting

killed to see this Irene chick?” she

asked.

Thane took his nose out of the

map and set it on his lap. “Irene is the

only Charms Mistress within a thousand

miles. Everything we need for our trip,

she sells.”

“But why isn't her store back in

town, behind the wards?”

“Well,” Garren cleared his

throat. “Most of the items she sells aren't

exactly legal. Thane had to call to make

an appointment and get directions to her

place. Since she'll be expecting us, we

shouldn't have to worry about any booby

traps.”

Her eyes grew wide.
Booby

traps?
“She sounds stable.” An image of

a woman decked out in camouflage, war

paint, and packing an automatic rifle

flashed in her head.

The dirt road they had to take to

get to Irene's cabin was bumpy and

curvy. The car was already covered in a

thick layer of dirt, and Garren kept

moaning in the backseat.

“If you throw up in this car, I

will
hurt you.” She peeked at him

through the rearview mirror.

“I can't help it if I get carsick.

Being in the front seat usually helps.” He

rested his head against the side window,

his eyes closed.

Thane sighed and lowered the

map. “Then why didn't you say

something earlier?”

“Because
somebody
had to sit in

the navigator seat, as if that’s so

important.” He let out a small groan.

“Besides, I wouldn’t want to be a

bother.”

“Too late,” she said. “Thane, you

crawl to the back and Garren climb up

here. I'd rather tolerate you next to me

than clean up after you.”

“That doesn't sound safe. Maybe

you should pull over,” Thane said.

“Don't be a wuss, Thing. Get

your ass back here.”

“Fine. Look out.” He turned

around in his seat and got on his knees.

His foot kicked her shoulder when he

pushed himself over the seat back.

“Watch it, will ya?” She almost

ran them off the road when he jarred her,

but corrected before dumping them in the

ditch.

“Sorry.”

Glancing in the rearview mirror,

she almost laughed at the sight of

Thane's legs waving in the air as he

landed on his face.

Garren made the transition a lot

smoother than his stepbrother. He

squeezed himself between the seats and

flopped down in the front. Now she had

Garren sitting next to her with a

triumphant smile on his face.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Much.”

They'd been driving for about an

hour. She wondered if Thane had got

them lost when he started yelling. “Right

there, that huge boulder that looks like a

foot, turn there.”

The road was full of exposed

roots

and

rocks

were

strewn

everywhere. They were probably the

first people to drive this way, ever.

This Irene lady must not do

much business.

Wincing every time she heard a

rock hit the car, she sent up a silent

prayer it didn't leave a scratch in the

paint. After fifteen minutes of bouncing

in their seats, they hit a dead end.

She cut off the engine and

surveyed

the

endless

trees

that

surrounded them. “I take it we walk from

here.”

“What was your first clue?”

Garren asked as he climbed out of the

car.

The boys stretched out their

limbs while she inspected the car for any

damage. Above the right, back wheel

well was an inch long scratch. Squatting

down to get a better look, she

whimpered as she ran her finger along it.

“There's no need to cry over

chipped paint,” Garren said, pulling her

up by her elbow. “Don't worry. I know a

guy who knows a guy who can fix it.”

“Great. If I survive, I'll be sure

to give him a call.”

Thane was already ahead of

them, carrying the plastic case he

brought along. They followed a faint

trail through the dense trees. The few

patches of sunlight that managed to shine

through the canopy overhead warmed

her skin for the brief moments she

passed through. She found herself

walking unconsciously from spot to spot

to feel the heat in the cool forest.

The air was thick with the

distinct aroma of pine needles, like the

Christmas tree lots that sprang up on

every vacant lot in November. Picking

out the perfect tree to display in the

double wide was her favorite winter

activity when she was younger. It

couldn't be too big or they couldn't get it

through the door without scraping off

most of the needles. Too small and the

tree would be drowned out by all the

ornaments her mom insisted on using.