Nightfall (Grim Gate 1)

“I feel like someone is watching us.”

“Get in the house.”

Nodding, I unlock the door and step inside. Hunter is looking out the living room window, staring out at the street right where I felt like someone was standing. He doesn’t run over to greet us until the door is closed.

“Hey, buddy.” I set my purse down and take off my shoes, moving out of the way to let Ethan in through the small entryway and into the living room.

“Do you still feel like you’re being watched?” Ethan asks, going to the window and twisting the blinds so we can see out but no one can see in.

“No, but something feels…unsettled, I guess.” I sink down onto the floor so I can pet Hunter, comforted almost instantly when I run my fingers through his thick fur. “Like I’m all jittery. It’s not an abnormal feeling, but given everything going on…”

“Right.” He sets the bag of weapons on the table and gets out a silver dagger. “If anything tries to come in, it’s not going to make it far.” He eyes Hunter. “It’ll have to get through both of us before it can get to you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t have to come to that.” I put an arm around Hunter. “Do you think it’s okay to take him for a walk? I usually do if I’m going to be out of the house a lot like this.”

“Yeah, but if you get another bad feeling, let me know right away.”

“I will,” I tell him and get up. I let Romeo out of his cage, smiling was I watch him bounce around the room for a minute. Then I pull a jacket from my closet and meet Ethan back in the living room. “Want to go for a walk?” I ask Hunter, who gets all excited, prancing in place by the front door.

“You’re armed again, right?” I ask Ethan as we start down the street.

“I’m pretty much always armed. Not having a weapon on me makes me feel like I’m naked.”

I tip my head, totally not picturing him naked. “You’re going to have to teach me how to use the dagger. I get the basis of hold and stab, but I also know there are techniques for a reason.”

“There are for sure. Have you taken any sort of self-defense or martial arts classes before?”

“I have. I did karate as a kid, so that probably doesn’t count anymore, and last year Laney and I did a six-week self-defense course.”

“And Laney is…”

“My best friend. We’ve been friends since the sixth grade.”

“That’s nice you are still friends today.”

“She’s pretty much stuck with me whether she wants to be my friend or not at this point. We’ve been through some—holy shit. I have to tell her I’m a witch.”

“You don’t have to.”

I look at Ethan incredulously, trying to remind myself not to judge. Julia pretty much came out and said it’s hard to make friends when you’re in the Order. I don’t think Ethan knows what it’s like to have a person like that, a person who you trust with anything, who you know has your back no matter what.

“I’m not good at lying in general, and it’s pretty much impossible for me to keep anything from her. Though, I don’t know if I’ll tell her about demons.” My brows furrow, and I watch kids on bikes cross the street. “She’s terrified of ghosts.” I look up at Ethan.

“And demons are worse.”

“Right.” I twist Hunter’s leash around my hand. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything.”

“Take your time. Being told demons are after you is a shock to your system as it is. And now you’ve found out you’ve been a witch your whole life but weren’t allowed to remember. It’s a fucking lot to take in.”

“Of all the breakdowns I thought I was likely to go through, existential identity crisis wasn’t one of them.”

Ethan lets out a snort of laughter. “You know who you are now, and from what I’ve seen of it, I think you’re pretty fucking awesome.”

“Why thank you, kind sir,” I say in my best Southern belle voice as I bat my lashes.

“Was that supposed to be a southern accent?” he laughs. “Have you ever been to the south?”

“Hey, I’ve been to Florida a time or two. Plus, I watched Hart of Dixie twice. My southern accent is perfect.”

Ethan laughs again and puts his arm around me. “If you want to believe that, then go ahead.”

Laughing as well, I try and talk with another accent, but my British accent is worse than my southern. The tension slips away as we walk, and there’s just something so damn hot about a man who can make me laugh.

We’re two houses down from mine when Ethan’s dad calls.

“Yes, I’m with her,” he says only seconds after answering the phone. “Hang on, let me put you on speaker.”