“Dibs,” he called as he slammed the door. “I call dibs.”
“That’s not how dibs works,” I yelled after him then pointed at Colby. “Don’t encourage him.”
Colby, who had been giggling, pasted on a solemn expression I wouldn’t buy on sale at the dollar store.
While we waited for the diva, who had somehow managed to travel with all his remaining wigs in their protective cases, the rest of us pulled on what clothes we had available and ordered room service for breakfast. This was going to be a long day, and a full stomach would go a long way toward improving it.
* * *
The Amherst Inn hadn’t changed since our last visit. From the outside, it appeared to be sinking in, and it made me curious how long this charade of rot had been in the making for people in town to accept it as a natural progression of neglect.
The glamour alone would have sent most prospective guests around the loop in the driveway on their way somewhere better, yet there were signs, such as our modern suites, that Mr. and Mrs. Amherst had been overhauling their inheritance prior to their disappearances.
Rather than give Trinity and Markus a heads-up we were coming for them, we left the SUV in the parking lot of the hotel where Clay and Colby had been staying. The short walk across the street to the woods gave me time to quash worries about my future to focus on the Amhersts’ fate.
“I knew you’d be back.” Malcom Holmstrom stepped into my path. “Didn’t I say, Emmett?”
A beat later, his younger brother emerged. “Sure did.”
Barely past noon, and these jokers were walking about as if the sun wasn’t a deterrent for them.
“Those punk kids told us to hunt you down,” Malcom explained, “but why waste the energy?”
“I thought you hated all things paranormal?” I kept them talking to get an idea if they were running on autopilot or if their summoners were nearby. “Yet you’re killing on command? For witches.”
“Don’t have much choice.” Malcom gestured down at himself. “Damn kids have our nuts in a vise.”
“Then why the saucy wink that night in the woods? You seemed plenty in control of yourself then.”
“Ours is a sacred mission, and those kids have no right to dictate our kills. The Lord does that.”
“We only kill the damned,” Emmett added. “Not innocent humans.”
“You understand that innocent and human aren’t synonymous, yes?”
And, based on our intel, their streak of murdering humans they pegged as paranormals was still going strong. If they hadn’t figured that out yet, there was no point in educating them. They would be dead soon enough.
Dead again?
Dead for good?
Whatever.
“Don’t try to get in our heads.” Malcom clicked his tongue at me. “We’re smarter than that.”
“That wasn’t an attempt at reverse psychology so much as it was an observation, but sure.”
“You’re pretty.” Emmett studied me. “I can feel how evil you are, witch. Evil shouldn’t be pretty.”
“I thought about cosmetic surgery. A mole here, a chin hair there, but it was out of my price range.”
“She thinks she’s funny.” Emmett prowled closer. “You’re not funny, little witch.” He lunged, his jaw unhinging, stretching until he could have fit my whole head in his mouth. “You’re dead.”
Yanking magic from Colby, I blasted Emmett, who exploded into ectoplasmic lumps that jiggled and wiggled as they began merging into a cohesive whole again.
“You’re gonna die for that.” Malcom ran at me, his lips parting. “No one hurts my brother.”
“Sorry, but I’m too busy to die right now.” I repeated the effort, blasting Malcom to bits before he showed me his fillings. “Have your people call my people, and we’ll set something up for later.”