The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗
- Author: Kate Quinn
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“Ick.” Darron pulls a face. “That is classic abuser speech. Separating people from their past means creating a yawning abyss between them and the people who love and care for them.”
Shauna frowns. “Um, I thought you said this was a sexy fun times cult? Not a we’re gonna wash your brains type thing.”
I can see my two roommates are on the verge of freaking out. Which is sweet. But also a little bit suffocating. They know I’ve been having a hard time with what happened to Liam, and they’ve tried their best to pull me out of the doldrums. Unfortunately, sometimes their idea of cheering me up is calling me in the middle of the work day to tell me we’ve got a rat infestation. I rushed home in a panic and ran into the house only to find a male stripper dressed as an exterminator in my kitchen. Of course, I didn’t realize he wasn’t a real exterminator until he ripped his clothes off and started grinding against my refrigerator door. The guy was cute, but putting butt prints on my stainless steel was a real turn-off.
Now that I think about it, a few days away from them—and their belief that getting laid will solve all my problems—sounds kind of great.
“It is a sexy fun times cult,” I assure them, before they try to convince me not to go. “Nico’s already looked into it and he wouldn’t send me anywhere that I’d be in actual danger. And Seraphina had lots of problems; she needed to leave her past behind. She was very introverted, scared of a lot of things. At the time, it seemed to really help her, so no, I’m not overly worried about going in there.”
“Well, that’s not exactly a proof of safety,” Darron says, now scrolling through Shauna’s phone. “And did you know about this?” He turns the screen so I can see, revealing a badly photoshopped picture of a Dalmanther wearing a crown on his head.
“Apparently they revere Dalmanthers,” Darron says, reading aloud to me. “A direct result of inter-species love, the Dalmanther represents the epitome of what can be accomplished when we acknowledge our animal drives—and act on them.”
I snatch the phone from him. “They’re not dog-fuckers, are they?”
Beside me, Shit lets out a high-pitched whine.
“No, quite the opposite,” Darron assures me. “I think a Dalmanther in the Together We Come commune would be as safe as a cow in India.”
“Holy cow!” Shauna shouts, her wings fluttering in her excitement and she rises a few feet into the air. “You can bring Shit with you!”
“Oh no, I think he should stay here…” But I see the look on Darron’s face and realize I can’t ask him to babysit Shit. He’s my responsibility and honestly, I’m the only one he really listens to.
“Can I bring him?” I ask.
“Let me do some research for you, but I think yes,” Shauna says.
Just then Shit emerges from beneath my blanket with the Thunderstick 5000.
Darron tilts his head. “Is that a…”
It starts to vibrate and I snatch it from Shit’s mouth, but he doesn’t want to let go, even though his entire front half is convulsing with the pulses. After playing tug of war for a full minute, he finally lets go and the thing smacks me in the face. I grab the shaft and turn, trying to get it to the off position.
I look up at Darron and Shauna. Darron has a look of pure gleeful amusement while Shauna just looks confused.
“If you need some alone time, Paige, you can just say,” she tells me. As if that would ever work in a million years.
“Come on, sweetie.” Darron takes her by the shoulders and pulls her toward the door. “I think Paige needs some R&R.”
“Okay, I’ll do some research. When you’re done going to town on yourself, come downstairs, Paige. Darron made some sugar-free sugar cookies.”
I make a squeaking noise and throw the vibrator across the room. It hits the wall and turns back on. Of course it does. I bury myself under my covers. Shit dives for the Thunderstick, apparently mistaking it for yet another supposedly-indestructible dog toy that I’ve bought for him. I have to admit, so far the vibrator is standing up to his affections way longer than anything else has.
“Shit! No!” I yell, and—like the good doggy I know he wants to be—he finally listens. Shit jumps onto my bed, putting his head on mine, trying to make me feel better.
Cuddling my puppy isn’t going to solve my frustration, though.
The vibrator echoes across the room.
And if I’m being honest, neither will my Thunderstick.
5
My phone chimes interrupting my puppy snuggle time. It’s Nico.
I’ll meet you at yours tomorrow at noon. Should get you there in time for the afternoon shuttle that takes newbies to the site.
Typical Nico. Ordering instead of asking, does that work for you?
I text him back a raised middle finger.
Next I send a text to McGinnis. Hey! I type, I’ve got to go out of town tomorrow. Sudden trip. I should be back next week for our meet up.
We have a weekly standing lunch appointment. We drink coffee, eat donuts, and strategize how to catch the vampire serial killer. It’s become an obsession with McGinnis, not surprisingly since he himself was kidnapped by VSK, and only managed to escape by the skin of his teeth. He’s been on leave because of his busted foot and doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get back to the force. He says getting VSK is all he cares about right now. I probably shouldn’t encourage him; he’s starting to get this sorta manic gleam in his eyes. But I want to catch the bastard too.
His reply comes a minute later. Everything okay?
Typical McGinnis. He worries about me. Sometimes a little
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