“Jeez, would you two like to get a room?”
Ignoring Nikki’s sarcasm, he yanked open the driver’s side door and climbed in. “You comin’ or not?”
“Duh, of course. Let me go grab the cuffs first.” Nikki rushed inside the house. Less than five seconds later, she was back. She scurried to the other side of the car and hopped in like she’d been convinced he’d take off without her. She might have been right.
He grabbed the key off the dash and started up the engine, the familiar rumbling purr an instant stress reliever. A click of the remote and the garage door rolled toward the ceiling. Once it was locked in place, he stepped on the gas and cruised down the driveway. Another click of the remote and he was ready to rock and roll. “Where are those fuckheads parked?”
Nikki pointed to the left, and he turned in that direction. Sure enough, a block down, a black SUV was parked at the curb. He slowed the car and shot the bird to the pair of goons slouched in the vehicle before roaring down the street.
“Subtle.” Nikki snorted.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror verified that he’d indeed gotten the thugs’ attention, and they were now tailing at a discreet distance. Idiots honestly thought they were pulling a fast one on him. “I’m kinda hungry. How about you?”
“Like you even need to ask.” Nikki draped her arm on the window ledge. “I hear the new Chinese place over by Lafayette is good.”
“It’s nine thirty in the morning. Probably won’t be open.”
“Damn. And here I had a hankering for Kung Pao chicken. Although, I could also go for an artery-clogging omelet.”
“You’re in luck. There’s a good greasy spoon over on Liberty.”
“You mean The Chow Barn?” Nikki’s eyes glazed over like she was seconds away from experiencing the rapture. “Ooh yeah, that place is awesome.” She abruptly snapped out of her trance and stared at him. “Whoa, do you realize we actually were having a conversation that didn’t involve thinly veiled death threats or yelling?”
He mulled her announcement over. “You’re right.” There was definitely something fucking wrong with him. Disturbed into silence, he gripped the steering wheel tighter and eased into the right lane. Was this all somehow related to his seal breaking? His odd behavior lately seemed too timely to mark it off as a coincidence. The prospect of what his strange metamorphosis could mean stirred a gloomy brew in his gut. Paranoid as it was, he imagined the cells in his body mutating with each passing second, slowly leaching away from everything safe and familiar to him.
You’ve been watching too many bad sci-fi movies. Grunting at his own idiocy, he swung into the lot of The Chow Barn and parked near the doors. He and Nikki walked inside and grabbed a booth that faced the entrance. His cousin snatched one of the grease-splattered menus and began perusing it while a rosy-cheeked waitress with a bouffant hairdo wandered over and inquired if they wanted coffee. After gaining their assurances that they did, the waitress waddled off again and Nikki lowered her menu.
She glanced out the window and chuckled. “Moe and Curly have gone stealth in the funeral-home parking lot.”
Following her gaze, he spotted the SUV clumsily hidden behind the bank of rhododendrons across the street. “Fucking morons.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit the location of the funeral home is freaking brilliant. They don’t have to go far to pick up clients who’ve keeled over from a heart attack after ingesting the chili-cheese omelet. Speaking of which, I know what I’m having for breakfast.” Nikki gave a shrill whistle to snag the waitress’s attention. In the process, it gained everyone else’s and probably scared off every rodent in a five-mile radius. Despite that, he didn’t feel all that tempted to reach across the booth and strangle her.
Definitely something wrong with me. Reluctant to let his mind veer down paranoia lane again, he looked for a topic to distract him after the waitress took their orders and moseyed in the direction of the kitchen. “Did Cass have any luck finding that address?”
“Yeah, it was in your jacket pocket just like you said. She wasn’t able to get Sat-link access to that ward’s registry, but Hal knows a few demon soul collectors. He’s gonna see if one of them might know something.”
He was tempted to point out that Hal was a bozo who’d say anything in the hopes of getting inside Cass’s pants but decided to let it pass. Hell, who knew? Maybe Hal would come through.
A few minutes passed and the waitress returned with his and Nikki’s omelets. While Nikki attacked hers like it would possibly try to make a break for it when she wasn’t looking, he sipped his coffee and kept an eye on the SUV across the street. Hopefully the air conditioning was shot and the two assholes were stuck in there roasting like pigs on a spit.
Finished gorging herself, Nikki pushed her plate away and delicately blotted her lips before releasing a belch that probably made the adjacent booth of truck drivers envious. She glanced toward his uneaten omelet and frowned. “I thought you said you were hungry.”
He had been, but the worries brewing in his head were one hell of an appetite destroyer. “Guess not.”
“Well, it’d be criminal to let that go to waste. Think of the starving children in Africa.” Nikki grabbed his plate and shoveled up a portion of the eggs. He had a feeling she would fork one of those starving African children in the eye if they came between her and that omelet.
Five minutes later she’d managed to polish off his breakfast and ordered a side of bacon to go. Shaking his head, he paid the bill and left a few bucks for the waitress’s tip. He and Nikki stepped out into the muggy Savannah heat. A weird growling noise came from the corner of the building, along with a chorus of obnoxious heehawing laughs. He and Nikki exchanged a look before simultaneously walking in that direction.
A trio of teenaged punks were clustered around a scrawny orange and white tabby cat, taking turns poking it with a long stick. Its eyes wide and terrified, the cat alternated between batting at the stick and hissing.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nikki demanded.
One of the punks turned in her direction and saluted her with his middle finger. “Fuck off, lady. Ain’t none of your business.”
Sam stared at the cringing feline. Something snapped inside him. “Leave that cat alone.”
The punk who’d sworn at Nikki puffed out his chest and adopted a menacing expression. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. “Whatcha gonna do if I don’t?”
Sam narrowed his eyes and hitched his T-shirt up just far enough to reveal Lucy’s handle.
The kid’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Shit, he’s got a gun. Let’s get the fuck outta here.” His comrades required no further invitation and jumped to their feet.
Once the trio raced off, Sam approached the crouching cat and bent to offer it a reassuring pat. It sprang at his arm, scratching the bloody fuck out of it before streaking off in the opposite direction.
“Son of a bitch. That’s the thanks I get for rescuing your scrawny ass?” Grumbling, he wadded the hem of his shirt and pressed it against the oozing scratches. “Shit, my luck, I’m going to get rabies.”
“You can’t get rabies from a cat scratch.”
He scowled up at Nikki. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She continued staring at him for a long moment, as if she were extremely baffled by something. Or maybe she was still in a brain fog from all the food she’d gorged on.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he demanded.
“Dude, you saved that cat. A freaking cat.”
Her statement hammered into him like a two-by-four. Hell, she was right. If this didn’t prove he was going batshit crazy, nothing would.