Love Your Entity (6 page)

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Authors: Cat Devon

Tags: #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Love Your Entity
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Grabbing her navy wool winter coat, she headed outside.

She was still on the front porch when she looked to her right and saw a woman on the porch of the house next door.

“Hi, my name is Zoe Adams,” the dark-haired young woman said with a wave and a big smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks. You’re the second person to welcome me.” Sierra wasn’t including Ronan or Ruby.

“Let me guess,” Zoe said. “Was the first one Daniella?”

“Yes.”

“She was one of the first to welcome me too. I bet she brought cupcakes, right?”

“Yes, she did and they were delicious.” Sierra looked over her shoulder nervously. She was uncertain about leaving Ronan in the house. She’d heard him moving around upstairs just as she was leaving. What if he changed the locks and she couldn’t get back in? Sure, he’d signed that agreement but would he stick to it?

“Is something wrong?” Zoe asked.

“I’m just a little jumpy about leaving the house.”

“Why?”

“Do you know Ronan?” Sierra asked.

Zoe moved closer so she was standing on the sidewalk near Sierra. Zoe was wearing a red down jacket with a black scarf artfully wrapped around her neck. “I’ve met him,” she said.

“He thinks he has a claim to my house.”

“Damon told me.”

“So you know Damon too?”

Zoe grinned. “I know him very well. We live together.”

So that’s why Damon had showed up so fast yesterday. He lived right next door.

“I heard you and Ronan signed an agreement to share the house,” Zoe said.

“A
temporary
agreement,” Sierra said.

“Well then, you don’t have anything to worry about. Where are you off to?”

“I have to return the U-Haul van this morning,” Sierra said.

“Do you need a ride back?” Zoe asked.

“I can take a taxi.”

“Save your money. Unless you’re independently wealthy?” Zoe teased her.

Sierra laughed. “No, I’m not.”

“Then I’ll give you a ride back. My car is already out front.” She pointed to a red Mini Cooper.

“I’ve been thinking of getting one of those,” Sierra admitted. “I sold my used Ford Fiesta back in Cleveland. It was on its last legs anyway.”

“At least we’ve got sunny weather,” Zoe said. “February in Chicago means temperatures can go either way. Fifty degrees like it was yesterday or barely thirty like it is today.”

“So you’ve been in Chicago a long time?”

“Almost a year,” Zoe said. “We moved from Boston.”

“You and Damon?”

“No. My grandmother and me. She’s out with a friend this morning. Let me grab my keys and we can be off. I’ll follow you.”

“At least let me treat you to breakfast as a thank-you,” Sierra said an hour later as they returned to the neighborhood.

“Deal.” Zoe pulled in front of Heavenly Cupcakes a few minutes later. “They have great coffee here too.”

“Daniella makes great cupcakes
and
great coffee?”

“Yes, she does. She’s also a really nice person.”

“She gave me a good reference for Ronan.”

“Hi, Zoe. How are you doing? Who’s your friend?” the young woman behind the counter said as they entered the shop. Her dark blond hair had attention-grabbing streaks of purple that matched the neon-purple earrings she wore. The tag on her navy blue Heavenly Cupcakes T-shirt said her name was Xandra.

Zoe made the introductions, then she and Sierra placed their orders. Sierra went for a latte and a mocha cupcake while Zoe went for an espresso and a devil’s food cupcake.

Then they sat at one of the bistro-style tables next to the front window.

“This is a nice place,” Sierra said. “I love the Art Deco architectural details, the decorative moldings, and the framed angel prints. The black frames really pop against the pale pink walls.”

“Daniella has done a great job with it.” Zoe took a sip of her espresso before saying, “I hear you’re an author.”

“That’s right.”

“I looked you up on Amazon. You’ve gotten some wonderful reviews, including in
Booklist
and
Library Journal
.”

“You sound very knowledgeable,” Sierra said.

“I sound like what I am,” Zoe said. “A former librarian.”

“You’re not a librarian now?”

Zoe shook her head. “I’m a soap maker. I have my own line of botanical soaps and creams. I sell them online. Bella Luna is the name of my business.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Sierra said.

“And I’ll have to check out your books. It sounds like your vigilante ghost hunter Nicki Champion is quite the woman. She always gets her ghost.”

“Not always,” Sierra said.

“Oh, now I am intrigued.”

“No one is always successful,” Sierra said.

“Not even ghost hunters?”

“Especially them.”

“A number of the reviews on Amazon said how realistic you made the ghost world sound. As if you had experience yourself.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” Sierra said.

“And?”

“And it’s a nice compliment.”

“That’s all it is? You know your house is rumored to be haunted,” Zoe said.

“I love those kinds of rumors. I’ve got research books on haunted bridges, mines, and hotels. What about your house? Is it supposed to be haunted too?”

“It’s not my house. I’m renting. Nick owns the property. I think you met him last night,” Zoe said.

“He and Damon started unloading my U-Haul without even asking me if I needed their help.”

Zoe frowned. “Didn’t you need their help?”

“Yes, but—”

“They’re not the type to wait for permission to do something.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

“I suspect Ronan is the same way,” Zoe said.

“I agree.”

“Let’s get back to you. Can you tell me what you’re working on now?” Zoe asked.

Sierra took a sip of her latte before replying, “I’m writing another Nicki Champion book. This one involves Chicago history during Prohibition.”

“In that case, you should speak to Pat Heller. He owns Pat’s Tats a few doors down. Oh look, there he is now.” She tapped the front window and waved at a man with a gray ponytail wearing a gray sweatshirt that said
GOT BRAINS
?

The man came inside.

“Pull up a chair,” Zoe invited.

As he did so, Sierra noticed that he had tattooed symbols on the back of his fingers.

“This is Sierra Brennan. She’s a published author and she just told me that her work in progress involves Chicago history during Prohibition. I said you were the guy to talk to about that.”

“Are you interested in that time period?” Sierra asked.

“I’m interested in all periods of history,” Pat said.

“She’s moved into the house next door to me,” Zoe said. “I told her it’s rumored to be haunted.”

“Do you know its history?” Sierra asked Pat.

“I believe the story is that a member of Al Capone’s gang lived there,” he said.

“I heard a rumor that the upstairs may have been used for prostitution,” Sierra said.

“A house of ill repute?” Pat paused. “Well, Capone was certainly into prostitution as a means of income, along with bootlegging illegal liquor among other things.”

“Do you happen to know the name of the alleged Capone gang member?”

“Hal something or other. Hal … Bergerstock.”

Great. At least she now had a surname. Sierra made a mental note.

“Al Capone may be famous but he isn’t the only historical figure in Chicago. I’m not a big fan of his but I am a fan of Bertha Palmer,” Pat said. “She lived around the turn of the century. The turn of the twentieth century not the twenty-first. Her husband built the Palmer House Hotel for her. It burned down two weeks later in the Chicago Fire.”

“I did consider having a ghost from that time period,” Sierra said. “I still might for another book.”

“Much of the city was burned to the ground. But it’s one of the reasons Chicago is now famous for its architecture. Those buildings had to be rebuilt, and they used new technology to do so. New to that time period anyway. Steel and concrete. The Palmer Hotel was rebuilt and promoted as the first fireproof hotel. The gala balls put on there were really something.”

“You make it seem like you were there at the time. That’s a real talent. I’m guessing your family has lived in this area for a long time?”

“A
very
long time,” Pat said.

“That must be nice,” Sierra said somewhat wistfully. “We never stayed in one place very long. It meant I got to see a lot of the country but I’ve always tried to imagine what it must be like to have deep roots to one place.”

“One of the ghosts in your first book has very deep roots to one place,” Zoe said. “A funeral home, wasn’t it?”

Sierra noticed a flash of suspicion cross Pat’s face before it was gone. Instead he sounded calm as he asked, “What made you choose that location?”

Sierra shrugged. “I heard him say that’s where he was. I write a character-driven book. They’re real to me. I’ve often said if I could teach them how to type I’d be in great shape.”

“Your characters are real?” Pat said.

“Obviously they aren’t
really
real,” Sierra said. “I write fiction.”

“Why ghosts?” Pat asked.

“Why not?” Sierra said. She’d heard this question before.

“How do you do your research?” he asked.

Another common question, but something about the way he asked it was new.

“The same way other writers do. Research books and the Internet,” Sierra replied.

“Do you have any paranormal skills yourself?” he added.

Again, not a new question.

For some reason she didn’t give her standard reply of no. Instead she said, “Maybe.”

“Really? Do tell,” Pat said.

Sierra vehemently shook her head. “I was just kidding.” What was wrong with her? Why had she said that? Granted, she hadn’t confessed she spoke to dead people but she’d left the door open.

It’s good PR, she told herself. Let readers think there is a chance you know things about the other side without going into specifics.

The silent pep talk had her pulling on her author mantle and becoming S. J. Brennan instead of Sierra. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a bookmark with her current and future books listed as well as her author website, Facebook, and Twitter pages. “Would you like one?”

Zoe nodded eagerly. Pat paused before nodding.

“Do you want me to sign it for you?” Sierra asked.

“That would be great,” Zoe said before confessing, “I didn’t just look you up on Amazon. I actually downloaded your first book onto my iPad yesterday evening and was up most of the night reading it. I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want you to think I was a crazy fan girl or something.”

“I’m her number one fan,” Tanya shouted from outside the window before running inside and repeating the words. “Not you.
Me!

“I’ll sign a bookmark for you too,” Sierra said. “Spell your name for me.”

Tanya did. “Write ‘To my number one fan,’” she added.

Tanya leaned over Sierra’s shoulder as she wrote.

“Why are you bothering Sierra?” Tanya asked Zoe and Pat. “Don’t you know that she has a book to write?”

“They weren’t bothering me. In fact, Pat was telling me a little bit about the local history.”

Tanya looked at Pat in surprise. “Really?”

Pat gave Tanya a look Sierra couldn’t decipher.

“He told me the name of the man who owned my house during Prohibition,” Sierra said.

“That was before my time,” Tanya said.

“Mine too,” Zoe said.

Sierra noticed Pat didn’t say the same thing. Instead he stood and took Tanya by the arm. “Time for us to leave.”

The other woman went with him, clutching her autographed bookmark and leaving Sierra wondering what else she’d learn about her new surroundings.

*   *   *

Ronan sat across from Damon at a table in the All Nighter Bar and Grill. He’d spent the past fifteen minutes complaining about Sierra while Damon remained quiet.

“You could always kill her,” Damon told Ronan.

“I thought killing humans was frowned upon here.”

“It is.”

“Then why suggest it? Was it some kind of weird test?” Ronan demanded. “Because I was indentured?”

“No. If I thought you were dangerous I wouldn’t have approved your staying.”

“Then why did you say that about killing Sierra if you weren’t trying to trip me up?”

Damon shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

“You mean you aggravate the hell out of people?” Ronan said.

“People and vampires.”

“And witches,” Ronan added. “So I’ve heard.”

Damon leaned forward. “What did you hear? What did Zoe tell you?”

“Nothing.”

“So it was her grandmother.”

“No, it was her cat,” Ronan said.

“Bella is a blabbermouth.”

“She had a nightmare last night,” Ronan said abruptly.

“Bella?”

“Sierra. She was terrified. I should have used that fear to make her leave but instead I comforted her.”

“Afraid you’re going soft?” Damon mocked.

“I’ve killed before,” Ronan said.

“So have I,” Damon said.

“You’re a Demon Hunter. You kill demons. It’s not the same.”

“We’re all bound by the reality of our circumstances,” Damon said.

“Some of us are bound by more than that.” Ronan’s voice was flat.

“Yeah, some of us are,” Damon agreed.

Looking down, Ronan realized he was clenching his fists. He took a deep breath and relaxed his fingers.

“What have you told Sierra about your claim to the house?” Damon asked.

“That my family has a prior claim to the property,” Ronan replied. “But I could hardly tell her that it went back over a hundred years.”

“I could have Neville forge some paperwork for you that would back up your claim. We’d have to come up with another story to update yours.”

“Who is Neville?”

“He’s our resident computer geek,” Damon said.

“Computer genius,” Neville corrected him as he joined them.

Ronan instantly picked up on the fact that Neville was a vampire. The glasses held together with duct tape did give him a nerdy appearance.

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