The engine snarled as Asa punched it up a steep drive, and it all came back to me. “Smarty fuzz butt.”
“You slept the whole trip.” She shoved against me to get breathing room. “I was worried about you.”
“You couldn’t have—I don’t know—tapped my shoulder or tickled my ear? You had to cannonball me?”
“I didn’t want you to miss the big reveal.” She looked mighty innocent when she lied. “A real cabin.”
“Safer than a hotel.” Clay leaned forward for a better view. “Closer to the action too.”
Arms still linked around Colby, I frowned at him. “How close to the action?”
“About twenty minutes. We can hike to the kill zones from here.”
The term kill zone turned her tiny face solemn. “Where do you want me?”
The fact she asked, instead of demanding to go out with us right off the bat, gave me hope that she was figuring out these cases weren’t all fun and games. They were life and death. For us, and for the victims.
“Let’s go in and check out the place, then we’ll talk strategy.”
A fraction of her earlier excitement returned as we pulled into a circular drive before a two-story cabin. I had to admit, it was beautiful with its aged logs and wall of glass windows overlooking what must be the foyer. The landscaping was minimal but tastefully done, blending into the forest that encircled the home without standing apart from it. The glass made me nervous, but I could spell it tinted until we left, to keep anyone from peering inside while we were in residence. I would ward the area too, just to be safe.
No snow on the ground, but that was a lucky break for us. It would have been fun, yes, but it would have also made hunting the zombigo extra brutal. Maybe we could do a boys-versus-girls water balloon fight when we got home. It was chilly here, but there it had been plenty warm enough.
“This is amazing,” Colby trilled after we punched in the code the owners texted us. “Look at this ceiling.”
We stood in the entryway, watching her soar. There was a small loft set in the peak of the home, and I had no doubt Colby would claim it the second she calmed down enough to spot it. Light and airy was a theme for sure. Skylights peppered the roof, allowing moonlight to filter in through the trees overhead.
“This is a nice place.” I patted Clay’s shoulder. “Good job.”
“There’s a hot tub out back.” He rubbed his hands together. “I call dibs.” He eyeballed Asa and me. “And no shenanigans in the water we’re all going to be using.”
“This place is a rental,” I said slowly, “on a website where anyone can book it. Like honeymooners. Like couples. Like, I don’t know, groups of swingers who want to leave their dirty little secrets in the mountains.” I hid my smile while he paled. “I wouldn’t dip a toe into that DNA pool.”
The edge of Asa’s lips twitched in the beginning of a smile. “Who knows when it was cleaned last?”
“I hate you both.” Clay stormed outside to get his bags then yelled back, “For that, I get the master.”
“I can spell it clean,” I confided to Asa, tapping a finger on my bottom lip, “but do I want to?”
“You’ll cave.” He turned to follow Clay out to the SUV. “Eventually.”
“Stay put,” I called to Colby. “I’ll grab our bags and be right back.”
She had, as predicted, located the loft, and was busy exploring it. “Mmm-hmm.”
Outside, I noticed Asa had claimed our bags while Clay struggled with his hatboxes.
Who needed six—no, seven—wigs to hunt a zombigo in the mountains where no one would see him?
The fact I had that many paperbacks and a new cookbook hidden in my luggage was beside the point.
“Gimme.” I bumped my hip against his, already regretting the bruise it would leave. “Let me help.”
“How can I trust you?” He clutched his babies to his chest. “You’re a monster.”
“Yes, well, I’m a monster who can magically sanitize the water. I do it all the time for Colby.”
Any time I mixed her sugar water, I started with a sterile base to ensure she only drank the good stuff.