You’re not my type.
No shit.
She wasn’t anyone’s type.
Chapter Three
The walls were closing in. There wasn’t enough room in this hotel for him and Lucian both, but the ghost didn’t seem to care. Lucian sat on the chair in the corner, clipping his toenails.
Clip.
Clip.
Clip.
Ethan stared at him and wished he would go haunt Rike again. Three times he wished it, and three times Lucian had continued clipping his damn ghost toenails.
“I hate you,” Ethan muttered.
“Same,” Lucian answered without looking up.
Where did ghosts even get toenail clippers?
Ethan leaned forward on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. He narrowed his eyes. “Where do you go when you disappear in a puff of smoke?”
Lucian’s demon-black eyes flickered to him and then back to his task. No answer. Huh.
“Why did you want me to kill that woman in the restaurant? Leah.”
There was a flash of emotion across Lucian’s face when Ethan said her name, but it was so quick he wasn’t able to read it. Rage? Fear? And then Lucian disappeared. Not in the smoke this time. He didn’t grunt in pain or anything. He just…left.
Curious. Maybe Leah’s name was the key to making Lucian go away.
His phone dinged with a notification that he had a job waiting. Right now, he was paying his $279 a week hotel bill by working as a handyman. He’d done that off and on for years and sold paintings to a gallery anonymously. He used to make decent money when he was at Red Dead Mayhem’s clubhouse, fixing up bikes and cars, but now he only had the two streams of revenue. He was contracted through a website that matched local residents in need of a handyman with his services. The information that came through to his email was limited. “Garbage disposal is broken. The size is 1/3. Single lady. No man. SOS,” he read out loud.
He hit the button for Contact Client and texted her, This is Ethan Blackwood, the handyman you’ve applied for. Good job letting me know the size of your disposal. I’ll pick up a new one and be over in half an hour. Does that work for your schedule?
The reply was almost instant. Yeppers.
Okay then, this would be an easy hundred bucks. He loved jobs like this. Easy, quick money.
Plus Lucian was still nowhere to be seen, so double-bonus.
Ethan put the address into his phone, memorized the directions, and made his way out of his dingy hotel room to his Harley. One side of his storage bags held his tools, and the other was empty, waiting for a new garbage disposal for the damsel in distress.
He hit the throttle and made quick work of purchasing the garbage disposal and attachment pieces, then blasted down the back roads toward 1010 Maple Lane, Corvallis, Montana. Cute street, too, surrounded by towering trees whose branches created an archway over the two-lane road. But the house was a total shock. It was huge with marble columns and a wraparound porch. The sprawling white house was immaculate, but the yard was an eyesore. The gardens were all overgrown and the grass around the property was waist-high. The landscaping in front of the house was like a jungle, and in the side yard, there was a red lawnmower that had cut about ten feet of the high grass and then given up on life. Probably some rich lady who had fired her lawn crew in a fit of rage because they didn’t trim her peonies just so.
Oh, well, whatever. He was here for one thing, and that was the garbage disposal.
But maybe he could secure more work if he did a good enough job.
He jogged up the porch stairs and to the front door, pushed his long hair away from his face, and knocked firmly.
The door opened before he even finished knocking, and who was standing there, staring at him with a giant beaming grin? The waitress from the Hamburger Shack, Leah.
“Hi! Hi, hi, hi.” Why was she waving? He was standing right here.
“Uuuuh.” Ethan checked the house number again. 1010. He was at the right place. “Your garbage disposal is broken?”
“Oh! Yes. Super broken. This way.” She ushered him into a sprawling entryway. There was a round table set under a chandelier, but both were covered with white cloths.
“Do you want something to eat? Something to drink? I have stuff for sandwiches. And a can of olives. And little packets of honey I’ve stolen from work, but don’t tell Monica or she’ll make me wear something even more hideous than the square dress.”
Ethan redirected his scrutiny of the big, dark mansion to Leah, who was bustling past a sprawling spiral staircase in front of him. She was wearing skinny jeans that were ripped to shreds in all the right places and a bright pink tank top that said are you checkin’ out my bunz on the back.
Well…that made him check out her bunz. Not bad. Nice and plump and round, and she had an hourglass figure to her curves that surprised him in a good way. Holy hell, Leah the Klutz was hot. But that mouth…
“Fuck a duck,” she muttered as she nearly tripped over air. “Or I have a jar of pickles and a bag of sour cream-flavored potato chips, and I think some turkey meat. I probably have, like, one squirt of mayo left, but you can have it if you want.” She led him into a gourmet kitchen that any girl he’d ever known would’ve sold her shin bones for.
“Is this your house?” he asked.
“Yeppers.”
“Really? What the fuck?”
“What?” Leah asked, turning at a large kitchen island. She tried to lean on it casually but missed the edge with her elbow and pitched forward, caught herself, and then gave him a crooked smile that said she didn’t care at all or get embarrassed. The woman didn’t take herself too seriously. She had that going for her.
Her reddish-brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she didn’t have enough make-up on to cover her freckles, She had shaggy bangs that fell just past her eyebrows. She blew those up and out of the way and then grinned. “Can’t a waitress have a mansion?”
Ethan narrowed his eyes. “No. Unless she’s into illegal shit or inherited it.”
The girl’s smile faded, then returned, but not as big. “Option B.”
“You inherited this place?” He scanned the cloth-covered dining table and giant restaurant-grade stainless steel sink that matched the massive fridge. Everything was perfect in here. Really well done, and he knew really well done. He’d been in hundreds of houses as a handyman.
“You inherited this place? From who?”
There was that dip in her smile again. “My parents. And just so you know, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Oh, Christ, is this the part where you tell me being rich sucks? Save it. Money is the only thing that can make people truly happy.”
Now the smile was gone altogether. “Do you really believe that?”
Ethan shrugged. “We’re born, we live, we work, we make money, we buy shit to live, we die.”
“Wow,” Leah murmured. “What happened to you?”
And for one single, weak moment, Ethan felt like telling her. He felt like unloading his past, how he’d gotten so fucked up. All the reasons he’d been doomed to be a monster since birth.
But why the hell now? He’d never been tempted before. His past was just that—his. It was no one’s business. He hadn’t even told his own flesh and blood brother what had happened to him, so why in fucking hell did he have this annoying urge to tell some girl he didn’t even know?
“I meant it when I said it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. This place is big and cold and empty and lonely, and I have to work a lot to cover property taxes. Plus I would much rather have my parents here taking care of this house, you know? They passed away in a car accident. Lost control on a bridge and went through a guard rail.”
Oh, well, that was awful.
Caring was dangerous territory, though, so Ethan cleared his throat and lifted the garbage disposal. “I’d better get to work.”
“Oh. Okay, right. It’s…under the sink,” she said unhelpfully
.
“I know where garbage disposals are located,” he muttered.
It was best to be rude and get her to stop talking to him. He flipped the switch to turn it on. There was a horrible grinding sound and then the disposal went silent. Ethan narrowed his eyes and tried the switch again. More grinding. The motor tried and conked out with a rattling sound of metal on metal.
Ethan made sure the switch was off and peeked inside the disposal and, sure enough, his suspicions were true. There was a mangled fork in there.
“So do we bone now or after you fix my sink?” she asked.
Ethan turned to find her leaning awkwardly against the counter with one long leg stretched all the way out. Her toes were pointed, and she was resting on her elbow, batting her eyelashes over and over.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Never. We never bone. I’m not a man you want to bone, lady.”
“Leah.”
“Doesn’t matter what your name is!”
“It’s just…you looked at my nametag earlier, or my boob, I couldn’t tell which, and plus I introduced myself and—”
“Did you call me over here to seduce me?”
“Uh, no, I’m joking. I don’t sleep with hairy bikers who dress like it’s fucking fourteen degrees out during the summer. I like my bedmates in booty shorts and tank tops.” She grinned brightly. “That’s also a joke. Wear short shorts, and our relationship is done.”
“Relation— What?”
“You know, if you trimmed your giant beard, maybe I could see when you’re smiling.”
“I don’t smile. Did you shove a fork in here?”
“Yeppers.”
“Just say yes like a normal fucking person!”
“Nopers.”
He stared at her for a three-count so he wouldn’t lose his shit and grant Lucian’s murder wish. Gritting his teeth, he uttered, “I’m leaving.”
“Your picture looks super seductive. Is this how you get girls?” she asked, staring at the screen of her phone. “I bet the single mommas eat this up. Handsome handyman making house calls.” She turned it to him and, sure enough, there he was, smirking into the camera, his eyes twinkling with wickedness.
Ethan snorted. How many desperate single ladies had he helped? He had this gig down. Post a sexy photo of himself with a tool belt and a smirk, and the ladies booked him through the website every time.
Called out. He’d been called out by this weird little human. She was messing with him and it was clear this job wasn’t going to pay like he wanted it—
“Paid,” she said, twirling her finger and dramatically poking her phone screen. She pointed said phone at him, and the flash went off. He winced at the surprise light.
“Here’s your tip. Use a better picture of you actually working if you don’t want to catch STDs. I’m concerned about your sexual health.”
“Bye, Leah.” He turned and walked away, but she followed him, the obnoxious human.
“Look at this picture. Look at it!” She was jogging to keep up. “Fine, I’ll just text it to you. You’re welcome.”
His phone dinged with a text message, and mother of a dick, this lady had his number from him messaging her earlier. Faaaan-fuckin-tastic.
“I’m changing my number.”
“Or I can do a black and white version.”
Ding. His phone went off again. Good God, this woman was going to drive him insane before his scheduled mental meltdown.
“Or sepia-toned…”
Ding.
He’d tried to avoid her and went around the kitchen island the other way, but now he was in a split hallway and all the damn doors looked exactly the same. Yep, he was lost. “What is this, a booby trap? And why aren’t any lights on?”
“Light is expensive. Do you want to come visit me at the Hamburger Shack tomorrow? I work from eight to three. We can play miniature golf after I get off.”
Ethan had been pacing, trying to pick the hallway that would lead to the front door. “Lady, do I look like a man who plays miniature golf?”
She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, looking him up and down and stopping on his beard and tattoos. “I don’t really know. I’ve never met a shifter, and your eyes are super creepy, but maybe you’re all creepy.”
“If I’m creepy, then why are you cool with standing in this dark hallway with me?” he said, his words echoing in the space.
Finally, finally, she stopped talking, so he took the opportunity to push her away forever. He stalked right up to her, slipped his hand around her throat, and squeezed gently. She didn’t startle or run, but the smile left her lips. He pushed her back, back, ever so gently, until her shoulder blades rested against the wall, and he let her see his eyes. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you?”
“You won’t.”
He squeezed tighter and snarled, showing teeth. “You don’t think so? I’ve done terrible things. Things you can’t imagine.”
“You aren’t bad, Ethan,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his and filled with such conviction.
“You’re wrong—”
“No, I’m not. I can feel evil, and you aren’t that. You’re just crazy, but crazy doesn’t scare me. I’ll still be your friend.”
She kissed his cheek and threw her arms around his neck suddenly. He just stood there, frozen in her embrace, wondering what the hell to do. He loosened his hand on her neck. His heart pounded against hers, and his crow cawed to escape him. To escape her. To escape this place.
“You’re alone, but you don’t have to be. No one understands me either.”
“He isn’t alone!” Lucian screamed suddenly, and when Ethan jerked his attention to the right, the ghost of his father was in the hallway, running toward them with murder written on his face. Eyes red as fire and hands clawed out like he would kill Leah himself.
“No!” Ethan yelled the moment the crow exploded from his skin.
Leah screamed in pain as his talons scratched her neck. He couldn’t worry about that now, though. He had to stop Lucian. Spreading his wings, he blocked Leah from the ghost. And right before his father hit him full-force in the chest, Lucian disappeared into a cloud of smoke that blasted right through Ethan. He was slammed backward and hit Leah in the shoulder. She fell with the force, and Ethan barely landed on his feet, his long black nails scratching against the wood floors.
He scanned the hallway desperately. Where had that old bastard gone?
Leah was on the floor, propped on one locked arm, and holding her bleeding neck with the other hand as she stared at him in horror.
I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you, not hurt you, but all that came out was, “Caw, caw, caw, caw!”
Her eyes were wide and terrified. “What just happened?”
Ethan was headed straight for Hell. Straight for insanity, and he would hurt a lot of people on his way out. He was a Blackwood. It was in his blood to hurt people.
But she’d kissed him on the cheek, hugged him, and for that moment of touch, that moment of kindness, he owed her. He couldn’t destroy this girl with his friendship. Couldn’t put her in the path of Lucian or the shit-storm that had become his life.
He was alone because he chose to be. Because everyone was safest if he stayed away from them.
She was fragile and submissive and happy and light, and he would suck all that from her. That’s what Blackwood Crows did to good human woman.
With one final “Caw!” he bunched his muscles, spread his wings, and flew for the nearest window, then crashed out of it, shattering the glass, and escaped into the night.
He was better off if he was alone.
Everyone was.
Chapter Four
Today was not Leah’s favorite day.
It might’ve actually been her least favorite day in a couple of years, and that was saying something. She didn’t let herself have bad days.
But she’d had to stay up late to clean up glass, her garbage disposal was def
initely still broken, and she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She’d thrown a fork in there and ground it up for the excuse to befriend Ethan. Which had ended up a horrible idea because something bad was happening to him.
He’d Changed right in her arms, hurt her, and then been thrown into her like he’d been hit by a truck going sixty on the highway. Nothing had been in that hallway but the two of them, but some awful dark feeling had filled her chest. She’d been hurt, but she’d also seen something in Ethan’s eyes—regret. And in the moment before he’d spread his wings and flown through the window at the end of the hall, she’d seen sorrow there.
Something was wrong with him. Really wrong.
She winced as the bandages pulled on the claw marks Ethan had made with his talons. His claws were like damn razor blades. She hadn’t even felt the cuts until a few seconds later.
“Are you gonna leave any time today?” Billy asked.
Leah looked over her shoulder at Billy through the kitchen window. “What?”
“Your shift has been over for fifteen minutes. Marney is already taking all the tables. What are you doing, riding the clock for your measly two-thirteen an hour?”
“No. I just…lost track of time.”
“Well go away and get a life outside of here.”
Billy might actually be getting ruder with age.
Gritting her teeth, Leah finished refilling the last sugar container and then pulled her apron off her horrid dress. She had big plans to get her mom’s old sewing machine out tonight and fix it so she didn’t have the sex appeal of an ocean sponge.
Ethan was cute.
Grrrr, those thoughts needed to stay buried deep, deeeeeeeeep down in her ovaries. But really, not even his beard could hide his handsome features. It just…overwhelmed them. That right there was a man who didn’t give a single care in the world what he looked like to other people. And that was sexy, too.
Pouty, she clocked out and made her way to her car, cranked up the tunes, and drove home wondering why even country music couldn’t make her feel happier. She was never like this, never down. She didn’t allow herself to wallow, but good gah, now she had to go home and figure out how to fix a garbage disposal and a broken window and she already had about a billion things on her to-do list. She didn’t need to be adding to it.