“Well, to find out what’s behind door number six, you gotta knock,” he said.
She did. A woman opened the door wearing a smile. “You must be Shayna. Come in. I’m Clara.”
“Hi, Clara. Thank you. This is my friend, Billy. He’s along for the apartment-hunting ride with me.” They all shook and made the necessary pleasant noises, and then he and Shay followed Clara from the little hallway into the living room.
Billy nearly swallowed his fucking teeth.
Clowns. There were fucking clowns everywhere.
Porcelain figurines and stuffed dolls and framed paintings. Like, not a few clowns. Not a squad’s worth or a platoon’s worth or even a whole goddamn company of clowns. Easily a whole fucking battalion of clowns inhabited just this one room.
“Oh, wow,” Shayna was saying. “How fun is this? How long have you been collecting them?”
Billy blinked at her. Was she serious?
Shay went up to examine a two-foot-tall doll in a stand that had an absolutely grotesque face, its features like wax that had melted. No. No way she thought this was okay. There was a hundred-and-twenty-six-thousand-per-cent chance these fuckers came alive at night and would kill Shayna in her sleep.
And then Ryan would kill Billy. And just fucking no.
“Oh, for years,” Clara said, smiling at Shayna’s interest. Clown lady crossed the room to a glass cabinet and opened the door. Shay followed at her invitation to see what the woman wanted to show her and threw Billy a glance as she did so.
One that clearly read help me God!
Billy just managed to bite back a laugh that he had to cover with a feigned cough.
Finally, Clara led them further into the apartment. Except for the clown infestation, he had to admit this was the nicest of the places they’d seen. The kitchen was decent sized and spotless, which he appreciated. Same with the bathroom.
“This one’s my room,” Clara said, inviting them to look in…to see more fucking clowns. How could anyone in their right mind sleep with all those clown eyes boring down on them? “And this one would be yours.” She pushed open the door.
“Hey, this is a nice size,” Shayna said, flipping on the lights and walking into the long rectangular space.
Billy’s gut dropped because he wasn’t imagining the cautious hope in Shay’s voice.
“What’s this?” Shayna asked, pointing to a square card table in the far corner. It was the only thing in the room.
Billy walked over to find it covered with beads, candles, incense, and doll-shaped things made of dried husks. No clowns, though. Still, WTF. He reached out a hand to examine a jar filled with strange-looking—
“Don’t touch that! Don’t ever touch anything on this table. Ever!” Clara yelled, rushing over and worrying over the table like he’d broken an irreplaceable antique.
Billy looked at Shayna’s wide eyes and was about two seconds from fucking exfiltrating her right out of this place.
Clara placed a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, this would be your room, Shayna. But a male spirit lives over here.”
She gestured to the table, and Billy’s gaze followed to look at the empty air over the table with a refrain of are you fucking shitting me running through his head.
Clown lady continued, “He’s pretty friendly overa
ll. He just occasionally makes things hover or move or fall. But if anything on this table gets touched, well, it’s just better not to touch anything on here. Ever.” She gave Billy a pointed stare, unblinking for so long that her eyes had to have air-dried.
“O-oh okay. Well, it’s such a big room, I’m sure I can share my space,” Shayna said, her tone no longer cautiously hopeful. Nope, now it was just south of hysterical. Thank fuck.
Clara smiled. “Oh, good. Well, if you want the room just say the words and it’s yours. I think we’d get on well.”
“I, um, I have a few more appointments in the next couple days but I am interested and I will be ready to make a decision without too much more delay.” She delivered the words in the same rehearsed way she’d said them all the other times her answer was in the negative, so Billy hoped that was the case again here.
They’d only made it to the second-floor landing when Billy grabbed Shay’s arm.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her head was shaking and her shoulders were shaking and she grabbed his arm right back and hauled him down the steps.