Page 7 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

The information caused a moment of appalled silence. My fury and terror for Tory made me itch. I wanted to peel my skin off my body. That would be a bad move. I was going to save that torture for Micky Muggles.

“You’ve read the book,” I said to Candy. “Where would Parveit, Lord of the Red hang out for a week?”

Candy’s smile was dastardly. To me, it was gorgeous. “Kentucky. Lexington, Kentucky.”

“Wait. Where are Gram and Mr. Jackson?” Prue asked.

The need to throw up was real. “Gram?” I called out. “Mr. Jackson? I need you to show yourselves. Now. Please.”

Nothing.

Gabe punched a hole in the plaster then walked to the center of the gathered group. “I’m leaving. I want the Nephilim and Candy Vargo with me. The Nephilim can feel the bastard’s presence. I’m sure that’s why they freaked out.” Gabe’s wings vibrated with power. His golden eyes narrowed to slits. “I will find him, and I will end him.”

The front door opened and the crew from the Piggly Wiggly entered. Their gazes immediately fell upon the golden-glowing Archangel. He was lit up like a Christmas tree, and he had the floor.

“What did we miss?” Heather asked, feeling the dark mood.

“Micky Muggles took Tory and possibly Gram and Mr. Jackson,” I filled them in.

“Where?” Charlie demanded.

“Lexington, Kentucky,” Candy answered.

I looked into the Immortal Enforcer’s eyes. “Tell me the safe word.”

“Toothpick,” Charlie replied without hesitation.

I took Alana Catherine from Gideon’s arms and handed her to Charlie. “Take her back to Candy’s. Drop a ward around the house and protect her with your life.”

“As you wish,” Charlie said, disappearing in a haze of silver mist.

“The rest of you stay here. If Gram or Mr. Jackson show up, call me,” I ordered.

“We’re going to Kentucky?” Gideon asked.

“Yep,” I said, taking his hand in mine then reaching for Gabe’s. “It’s time to slay the dragon for good.”

This time, there would be no mercy.

CHAPTER TWO

We formed the circle quickly. My mind was jumbled with alarm. The entire scene felt chaotic and wrong. Even Gideon was hesitant. Gabe seemed ready to combust. His entire body trembled with rage. We were a hot mess ready to turn into a shitshow on a dime.

“Hang the fuck on for a sec,” Candy Vargo grunted as we prepared to transport. Picking her ear with a toothpick that had formerly been in her mouth, she paced the living room like a caged tiger. “Now, I’m all for heading to Kentucky and ripping Micky Muggle’s innards out and shoving them down his throat, but we ain’t got no plan. Don’t know where we’re goin’. Don’t know what we’re doin’. Don’t know shit.”

She’d made an excellent observation, and my sigh of relief was audible. I was getting used to winging it, but that luck was bound to run out eventually. It was tempting to remove the toothpick from her hand, but getting electrocuted was something I didn’t have time for. Instead, I addressed her concern. “Do you have a plan?”

The Keeper of Fate rolled her eyes. “Nope. But here’s how I see it. Life’s become a fuckin’ creamy messy shit symphony, and I don’t wanna be the fecal-covered conductor. You feel me?”

I closed my eyes and swallowed back my bile. No one could accuse Candy Vargo of not being graphically repulsive. If Gram were here, she’d give Candy a piece of her mind for such a colorful and disgusting analogy.

Gram wasn’t here. I had a very bad feeling that she and the sweet, dead Mr. Jackson were with Tory and Micky Muggles.

“All shit comparisons aside, Candy has a point,” Heather admitted, pressing the bridge of her nose. “Of course, her delivery had the grace of a cow on stilts.”

“Thank you,” Candy said.

It was Heather’s turn to roll her eyes. “Wasn’t a compliment.”

---