Touch of Evil: A Weird Girls Novel (Weird Girls Touch Book 1) Read online

  “Hey, baby.” The cougar steps into my path, the silky way he moves mesmerizing. This isn’t someone who sleeps alone much. “Now that your done with that fool Ted, let a real man show you a good time.”

  I start to tell him no, when the bear interrupts. He mashes out the cigarette on the sole of his ratty sneakers and pulls the cougar back by the arm. “Don’t go there,” he tells the cougar. “That there is Aric Connor’s fam.”

  I don’t see well in the dark. Not like Celia and the wolves do. But I do notice the cougar blanche.

  He edges away with his hands up. “Sorry, uh, ma’am, I mean, miss. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  “It’s all right,” I say. My chin trails down as I walk past them, only to snap up when that dark presence returns.

  The weres growl in that way they do before something meets a gruesome and vomit-inducing death. I can’t see their faces with their backs to me, but I recognize they’re seconds from charging. The muscles lining their broad shoulders clench and their knees bend. They’ll pounce and maul whatever is out here and anything that gets in their way.

  A few feet down where the T.V. casts light against the window, another were throws open his door and steps out. I can’t tell what he is, not from this distance. He’s small, closer to my five-foot frame than the behemoths directly in front of me. A honey badger maybe?

  “Did ya hear that?” he asks. His growl is lighter and more like a whine but just as fierce.

  “Yeah, we did,” the bear replies. He takes a strong whiff. “Fuck if it don’t smell like shit.”

  I didn’t hear what they did or catch the smell that alerted them. I adjust my hold on the purse straps and inch forward. The cougar’s arm shoots out, warning me to stay put. “Get going, little one, before you get hurt. We’ll handle this mess.”

  “I-I can help,” I stammer. My voice reflects my raw mood. The experience with Ted eviscerated my heartstrings, and this thing, whatever it is, hasn’t helped me settle. So instead of adding backbone to my words, my shaky voice validates the cougar’s perceptions that I’m weak.

  “Go, little one,” the bear insists. “We don’t want trouble from the alpha if you bleed.”

  “I can heal myself,” I start to explain.

  If they hear me, they don’t show it. As a pack, they move as one, picking up their pace when that presence takes off in a sprint. The weres who remain perk up, eager to back their brethren. Several swing down from the stairwell overhead and jet after the cougar and bear, while more above race forward, their swift and collective steps barely perceptible.

  The weres are quick to join the hunt.

  And so am I.

  Chapter Two

  Emme

  My feet can’t move fast in the sparkly kitten-heels I’m wearing. I do my best and hurry in the opposite direction the weres vanished. Bad guys tend to double back to ambush the unsuspecting and the weak. If this thing is one of them, I don’t want it to encounter a human. It’s strong and dangerous enough to rile the weres…although it had no effect on Ted.

  I push forward to keep from slowing my pace. Ted didn’t sense this thing at all. He should have. His inner animal is akin to other predators. Yet there he stood, his only thoughts on his own desires.

  As I reach the next landing, I grab the metal railing to keep my balance. Now is not the time to think of Ted. Danger is afoot and I’m this evening’s token Sherlock.

  I reach the ground level and rush through the small courtyard that leads out to the street. Two families are barbecuing. The aroma of charred meat fills the small enclosure. Along the grass, their children wrestle and roll around, the youngest ones chasing each other and laughing. Were Alley: this is what this section of North Tahoe is called.

  The females bring platters of steaming appetizers to the table, watching me with narrowed gazes. A male eases away from the grill and takes position directly in front of them.

  Their wariness reminds me to mind my supernatural manners. With their young so close, the parents will be more combative and quicker to act. My steps slow. I don’t want them to think I’ll hurt their babies, especially as they’ve already identified me as a being of magic.

  “Good evening,” I say. I’m trying to come across friendly, but the tension that licks the air results in me stuttering.

  The male grilling steaks abandons his task and stalks forward. He murmurs something I don’t catch. He must know me or of me. Whatever he tells the group is enough to negate the strain my presence conveyed. The weres nod respectfully. I return the nod and walk away. I want them to enjoy their evening and not stress over me.

  The children pause their roughhousing as I pass.

  “What was she, Mama?” a little one asks.

  I don’t wait for her mother’s response and resume my quick pace. Our reputation as allies to the were elite has helped our relationship with other preternaturals. That doesn’t mean we’re perceived as friends or that we’ll ever belong.

  My pulse is racing by the time I reach the walkway. The creature, or whatever it was, is gone. So are the weres, and Ted.

  I step around glass and chunks of wood from Ted’s fall and head away from Were Alley. Once more, I’m on my own.

  The next few rows of apartments pass in a blur. I should call an Uber and head home. It’s just so early. Everyone will be awake and I’m in no mood to share the details of yet another disastrous date. I took an Uber here, wanting to spare Ted from my brothers-in-law’s scrutiny. But Ted, he didn’t wish to spare me from anything.

  My purse swings gently along my side. I adjust it and keep it in front of me as the breeze from Lake Tahoe picks up.

  It’s unusually quiet in Were Alley. The loudest sound this evening was likely Ted’s vault through the window and his perilous landing several floors below. Brawls are common among weres. It’s probably why no one made a fuss. Although I shouldn’t give Ted another thought, his words remain fresh and continue to burn.

  I was a pity date. That’s as much as he told me. A little girl who’d have to do since her striking sister was already taken. My shoulders droop. I’m not ugly, but I’m also not my sister Taran. Her beauty and vocabulary make her larger than life. Everyone notices Taran, and everyone should.

  The “little girl” comments, reinforced by the other weres, also prick at my brain. Being small in stature doesn’t make me insignificant, it does, however, portray me as weak and passive and someone easily victimized. It’s why Ted felt so free to tell me what he did.

  I shake my head, wishing I could also shake the insults. I want to be that person who others think twice before crossing. Not because of who I know. But who I am.

  I lift a crumpled piece of paper from the sidewalk and toss it into the trash. No sooner do I step away from it than I fumble for the small container of hand sanitizer in my purse. The moment I flip open the cap and the floral scent reaches my nose, I pause. I frequently stop to rid the world of litter and carry hand sanitizer that comes in pretty aromas. Is it a wonder no one trembles in fear of me?

  With that epiphany, I push forward, trying to also to push the self-criticism aside.

  Through the last block of Were Alley, streetlamps cast brilliant light and bleach the walkways. Beyond the light waits an inky night absent of stars. If it weren’t for the full moon, there would simply be blackness, and the circumspection I’ve come to know as a friend.

  Night hasn’t been simply night in a long time. Like a famished animal, it prowls the region, anxious to feast once it’s shoved away the sun.

  And speaking of entities who love to feast…Oh, Misha. Why did I have to try your BYTEME app?

  I thought my perky sister Shayna was pulling my leg when she told me that the local master vampire had developed a dating app for supernaturals. It makes sense with so many members of the mystical community in the area, and from what I hear, it’s grown his already massive fortune.

  Dating humans is dangerous for beings of magic, more especially for the humans. Despite my apprehensions, I tried it, following more than a little encouragement from my sisters.

  “Dude, you have to put yourself out there,” Shayna told me.

  “No, shit,” Taran agreed. “You want to die a miserable old wench like Mancuso over there?” she asked, hooking a thumb in our neighbor’s direction.

  Like a very irate deer, Mrs. Mancuso popped out of the bushes, wielding two very stiff middle fingers instead of antlers.

  As I mentioned, I gave it a go and, well, here I am.

  My phone rings. I know it’s Shayna long before the image of her grinning face appears. Her upbeat personality perpetually shines through.

  “How’s it going?” she sings.

  Shayna always speaks with gusto. I wish I had that much gusto. Goodness, right now, I’d settle with a dash of perk. “We went back to his place,” I admit.

  “You did?” Shayna asks. Her voice loses its cheer as she picks up on my lack of enthusiasm.

  “Yes. He wanted to fetch his keys so he could take us on a nice, romantic drive along Lake Tahoe.”

  Shayna sighs. “There weren’t any keys, were there, dude?”

  “No, but there were plenty of testicles,” My blush stings my cheeks. “We went from a nice dinner to him standing naked in front of me.”

  “Mm. I take it that’s when he whipped out the one more than required testicles?” Shayna guesses.

  “Yes, all three of them.”

  “Aw, Em. I’m so sorry. The important thing is you tried. Just give me a sec to get my sword and be on my way.”

  “Shayna, no. You don’t have to—”

  She, of course, ignores me to speak to her monstrosity of a husband, Koda. “Puppy, I’ll be right back…What...To pick up Emme…She went out with some guy with three tes
ticles she found on Misha’s dating app…That’s right, three...No, I’m not making this up. Why would I make this up...Yes, I’m taking a sword…Well, because he tried to feel up Emme.”

  The growls that follow are enough to rupture my eardrum.

  “Koda, no…no…I’ll take care of it…Puppy, you stay in bed all sexy like and wait for me.” Shayna drops her voice, whispering low into the phone as if Koda can’t hear loud and clear. “We were playing Quaker Oat guy meets Naughty Pilgrim. Between you and me, Koda’s getting really good at churning butter—”

  More growls followed by several bouts of swearing. “Puppy, don’t throw your wig on the floor like that. I paid a lot of money for it…Emme will not tell everyone about the butter churning, will you, Em?”

  “I really won’t,” I admit.

  “See?” Shayna says. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Shayna, I already took care of Ted,” I assure her.

  “What’d you do to him, dude?” she asks. “Wanna make sure it measures up to what the ol’ bugger deserves.”

  “I, ah, sort of threw him out a window,” I admit.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” I reply. I step around a puddle, wishing she hadn’t called so soon.

  “How many stories?”

  “Three,” I say, remembering.

  “One for each teste?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Seems only fair.”

  I cross the street at the walkway and cut left.

  “It’s okay, Koda,” Shayna adds quickly. “Don’t get dressed. Emme took care of business and told that guy and his floppy hairy bits what for...What…You didn’t need to hear that…Then why’d you go and ask?”

  Shayna is preoccupied with Ted’s body parts and that’s fine with me. I don’t want to tell her about what Ted said to me. It would only further upset my family. I also don’t mention that presence I briefly experienced. The weres in the neighborhood took charge to defend their territory and telling them will only pull them away from the uh, unique evening they planned.

  It wasn’t that long ago we took on a necromancer and an army of zombies. They can use the rest and private time.

  “I can still come getcha,” Shayna offers. “We can stop for ice cream on the way back. All the butter churning made me hungry if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, and please don’t elaborate,” I beg.

  I lower the volume, embarrassed someone might hear her only to grimace at the multitude of texts Taran sends.

  Did you burn that shit up?

  You should have burned that shit up.

  I would have burned that shit up.

  Son of a bitch.

  Who does he think he is, waving his junk like flags in the wind?

  Hell, he didn’t wave those flags in your face, did he?

  That’s just nasty.

  I text back, no, and thank Taran for that rather descriptive visual. I groan and push away a strand of hair away from my face. “Shayna, you told Taran?” I ask.

  “Totally,” she admits. “Texted her as soon as you told me all the dirty deets, Em.” Her voice quiets and grows a little sad. “We still tell each other everything, don’t we?”

  No. Not anymore.

  “Em?” she says.

  “Yes, I’m still here,” I assure her.

  “You want to do me one and go for ice cream together? I could use the calories since Hot Lifeguard Shayna resuscitates Sexy Virgin Werewolf in Red Speedo is up next.”

  “I’m not ready to go home,” I blurt out over Koda’s embarrassed snarls.

  I round the corner and look down the street. The upscale restaurants have begun to shut down as the bars and clubs come to life. No, I’m not ready to go home.

  Just as I’m not ready to spend the night alone.

  Chapter Three

  Emme

  My phone slides nicely into its designated pocket. Shayna wanted to come for me. Mercifully she didn’t press. She realized I needed time away from the house.

  Out of all my sisters, I’m closest to Shayna. As hard as she tries though, it’s difficult for her to relate to what I’m going through. She doesn’t have to trudge through the muddy waters of dating. I do, and my flowery galoshes continue to stick to the gross floor.

  My mind wanders, picking through the shift of events. The evening spun from nice to nightmarish as quickly as a top. If I didn’t possess the power I do, I would have walked away a victim. Ted would have moved on to the next female he felt worthy of his presence and attempted to wow her with his juggling expertise. He wouldn’t have given me another thought. Now, he will, and perhaps think twice about mistreating another female. Oh, and that sinister presence, whatever it was, could have harmed me. I never would have thought to go after something so vile if my abilities couldn’t fend off an enemy.

  I wince when a pang of pain reminds me there’s still healing to perform and magic to call upon. I lift my right hand, my expression softening as pale-yellow light forms on my palm and spreads along my fingertips, soothing away the residual ache from slapping Ted.

  I surprised myself by striking him. Violence and aggression aren’t attributes I possess. Please don’t misunderstand, I’ve killed in defense of myself and others, but doing so hasn’t assuaged me from guilt. Despite my gentle touch, there’s blood on my hands, and all the good I’ve done won’t wash the stains from my skin or mind.

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” I whisper.

  I shake out my hand as well as the remorse that haunts my dreams. I need to focus on the present if I’m ever to have a future, and if I’m to help protect Celia.

  Celia. My oldest sister and my hero. She and Aric are expecting their first child. Of course, like with everything life has given us, there is nothing simple about her pregnancy. The baby she carries is prophesized to save the world from an uprising and evil. That’s a startling expectation to aspire to. Poor baby. And poor Celia.

  After months of worrying whether her baby was growing, the little bundle of joy grew in a magical burst. Celia went from a barely-there baby bump, to really showing. It was beautiful and frightening all at once.

  As if on cue, my phone buzzes, and a text from Celia appears.

  Hey, sweetie. Shayna just texted me and told me what happened. Aric isn’t familiar with this wolf, but he will be and so will I.

  I crinkle my nose. If Ted is a member of Aric’s pack, he’ll be dealt with and it won’t be pretty. If Celia finds him first, it will be worse. Pregnant or not, Celia is scary.

  No need, Celia. And please don’t think about returning home. Enjoy your weekend with Aric. Please. I’m safe and I’ll be all right.

  The extra please is necessary and what it takes for her to agree to let it go, at least for now. The part about being all right isn’t exactly true. But I will be.

  I return my phone to its pocket and continue my walk. The breeze from the lake bats at my white flowy skirt. I shudder, although it’s not from the magic the lake carries. Celia was always sensitive to the lake’s magic. Me, I’m just cold.

  It’s cooler for July than I’m accustomed to and my sleeveless dress exposes my arms. I would have brought a sweater had I known the evening would mimic fall instead of summer. I glance over my shoulder when something pokes at my senses, alerting me that it’s not just the temperature causing me to tremble.

  Well-kept walkways that lead to small boutiques and casual bistros stretch out the length of the block. As far as company, I remain the only guest at the party. I maneuver around another puddle. My feet barely reach the other side when I quickly turn, expecting to find someone lurking close by.

  There aren’t footsteps or voices, just a presence. I stop, waiting for someone, anyone, to appear; a shop owner locking up for the night or a resident skipping out of her apartment to take advantage of her youth and the nightlife.

  There’s nothing. But something all at once.

  It’s a different sensation than what I felt at Ted’s apartment. There’s no fear alerting me to run or that primal warning that screams of danger. Whatever I feel isn’t evil or hateful. It simply is.

  I glance back more than once. Tahoe isn’t generally considered a largely ghost-inhabited region. There are certainly hot spots for paranormal activity and wandering spirits have a way of making their presence known. But a spirit isn’t what I feel. It takes another block and a few more cautious steps before the feeling of being tracked lessens and ultimately fades away.