The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

“Did you know it was this isolated?” I ask Cassie.

“Yeeees?” she says, but it sounds more like a question, and her bubbly personality has definitely gone a little flat.

The bus comes to a grinding halt and the driver looks back at the four of us without a word. I don’t know if he’s a member of Together We Come or not, but I’m guessing he’s just an employee because I’m feeling a little judged. We grab our things and Shit sticks by me as we walk down a little path that leads to a ridiculously tall wooden staircase.

“Seriously? Exercise?” The middle-aged guy asks, but the soccer mom digs in her heels and takes off up the steps while doing yoga breathing. Shit whines and checks out her ass as she goes. This sight also seems to motivate our companion, who takes off after her like he’s got calves of steel.

“It’s not that great,” I chide Shit, and start my climb, Cassie at my side.

We’re panting by the time we get to the third platform. My bag is feeling heavy, and I’m feeling really grateful to Hepa right now for convincing me to bring less crap. I stop to catch my breath, and flip my broom around so I can use it for a walking stick. Cassie joins me, leaning against the railing. I can just see our busmates at the top, talking to two other people, who are fitting them into some sort of vest.

“Are there uniforms in the compound?” I ask Cassie.

“I don’t think so,” she shakes her head. “I get the feeling it is very clothes optional.”

I shrug and we struggle our way to the top, where two men greet us. One wears a denim vest and has long, luxurious curly hair on both his head and chest. The other one is skirtless, and sports those short shorts men used to wear in the seventies. They are both hella fit and I get a little hot under my peasant top.

“Welcome,” they say in unison.

“That’s not creepy,” I gasp softly, unable to speak louder after that last leg of stairs.

“But it was like, totally creepy,” Cassie tells me.

I’m about to explain that I was being sarcastic when the two men drop to their knees and fold into a full bow, hands out, their faces in the dirt.

My mouth falls open as I realize they’re bowing to Shit. It’s one thing to be told they revere Dalmanthers but another to see them on their knees in homage while he lifts his back leg to take a piss.

After what feels like an uncomfortably long time, the men finally sit up and address Shit. “Welcome—ultimate being…” They pause and the hairy one looks at me.

“What’s his name?” the other one prompts.

Shit. “Shit,” I tell them apologetically.

He quirks a smile. “Welcome ultimate being Shit.” They bow again and this time—to my amazement—Shit returns the gesture, dipping his big spotted noggin to the ground before quickly lifting it again.

“Hey!” I shout. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

“Oh, Dalmanthers are incredible mimics,” the guy says, getting to his feet. His eyes light up at the topic. “I’m not surprised you haven’t seen it, though. They typically won’t imitate their masters. It seems they have an innate concern that their masters may find it mocking.”

“Huh…” I say, not sure if I find this flattering or not. If I could have taught Shit how to run a vacuum and he never let me know that, I’m going to be pissed.

“A good Dalmanther parent is hard to find,” he continues. “They are a high-risk breed, and very difficult to raise. We are honored to have you and your companion here.”

“You must be a member,” Cassie says, eyeing him. Now that I have an up-close view, he looks a bit young. I backpedal on my previous perving. “You sure do love Dalmanthers.”

“Yes, but I’m not a full member yet.” He shakes his head, reaching into a bin behind him to pull out three vests. “I work for Together We Come, but I’m not twenty-one yet, so I can’t join. They are very adamant about morality inside the sex cult.”

“Right,” I say, pulling the proffered vest on. “What’s this for?”

“This is how you gain access,” he explains. “You’ll zipline into the compound, shouting the password as you go.”

“Awesome,” Cassie says, glancing at the line above our heads.

“Or not,” I add. “I didn’t know about this, and heights are not my strong suit. Also, what about our bags?” I gesture to mine, which I’ve dropped to the ground at my feet.

“You’ll be fine, and we’ll have your bags transferred directly to your quarters,” he says, already zipping me up, then attaching a second vest to my front. It’s much smaller, kid-sized, and is securely wrapped around both my waist and my shoulders. “Do I have permission to pick you up?”

“Excuse me?” I snap, only to figure out he’s talking to Shit. Apparently, Shit’s okay with it because he doesn’t bite the kid’s face off when he picks Shit up in his arms and then with the help of his friend, lowers him into the toddler vest strapped to my chest.

“All set,” one of the guys announces after they give our straps one last tug test to make sure everything’s sturdy.

“I’ll go first!” Cassie says confidently, stepping up to the edge of the wooden platform with no fear at all. “What’s the password?”

“You have to yell, “I’M COMING!” our guide says, and I give him a side-eye.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, and the more you make it sound like you’re actually, you know, coming, the better your reception will be. Not that you won’t be very welcome,” he adds, giving me a once over.

“Get your underage eyes off my ass,” I snap, just as Cassie leaps into the great wide open and disappears into the trees.

“I’M COMING,” she yells, her voice fading into nothing as she goes. Shit gives a little whimper and looks up at me, his spotted