Page 13 of The Shadows of Excess

Tim nodded. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got him. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on him while you kids go off playing hero. Do what you need to do and leave the babysitting to me.”

Justice met Tim’s gaze. “I think I should go with Damon and Sawyer. These things could be lurking in Mystic Ridge. You don’t want what happened to Becky to happen to them.”

“We can handle ourselves,” Damon insisted.

“Normally, you can.” Tim met Damon’s angry gaze with a level look. “Listen, boy, those witches got blindsided, and we can’t afford to let that happen to you. It might be a good idea to have him tag along for backup. You’re heading into a potential snake pit, and it’s better to be prepared. Don’t get yourselves caught with your pants down.” A no-nonsense tone edged his voice.

Damon scoffed. “Justice is my babysitter now? Come on, Tim, you said Sawyer and I should head there alone. We’ve been in tighter spots than this. We can handle a couple of mystical surprises in Mystic Ridge.”

Brody stood from the table, commanding yet composed as he addressed the group. “Listen up, everyone. The teams are set, and now is not the time for disagreements or personal vendettas. We have a critical mission to uncover what happened to Becky and to ensure Lisa’s safety before it’s too late. We need to work together as a united front if we’re going to find out what demons we’re up against.”

Damon crossed his arms with resignation and determination. “All right, Captain America, point taken. No more squabbling,” he quipped. “Let’s get down to business and kick some demon ass. We’ve got witches to find and a mystery to solve. And hey, working together? That’s our middle name. Right, team?”

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. He wasn’t fooling me. The conflict between Justice and him was far from over. I hoped it didn’t carry over into the field, especially when we went up against this new demon.

Not wanting to get caught up in this dilemma between my brother and Justice, I leaned over and kissed my dad’s forehead. “Get better, Dad.”

My fists clenched at my sides as I breezed past Damon and Justice. “Are you both coming?” I called over my shoulder, my firm voice slicing through the lingering tension. It was a clear, unspoken command. Time to move, time to focus on what lay ahead in Mystic Ridge.

I didn’t turn to check whether Damon or Justice were following. As I descended the stairwell, the bar sounds grew louder. The crowd had thinned out, but there was still the hum of conversation, laughter, and the clink of glasses. The patrons were blissfully unaware of the tensions boiling upstairs.

Some hunters I recognized lingered among the crowd. Their quick, knowing glances in my direction and back toward the stairwell told me they sensed something was amiss. Though they didn’t know the details, their instincts gave them an inkling that trouble was brewing.

I hurried out of the bar before any of them asked questions. If they wanted to find out, they could grill Tim, who was about as chatty as a clam.

As I pushed the door open, the cool night air rushed over me, a stark contrast to the stuffy atmosphere of the bar. Stars twinkled in the dark expanse above, and the moon cast a soft glow, its light dancing off the tops of parked cars. I headed toward our vehicle, lost in thought.

Suddenly, my tattoo burned as if I’d touched a hot stove.

I quickened my step toward the car, reaching out to grab the handle. A blur of movement caught my eye, and I froze. My heart raced as a black figure darted out from behind the vehicle. I strained to make it out in the darkness. Could it be a stray animal? Or something more sinister lurking in the shadows?

I recalled the blur I had seen out the window earlier while climbing the stairs to Tim’s office. I had initially dismissed it as a trick of the light, a figment of my imagination. Now, facing this unexpected encounter, I realized I had been wrong.

The intense heat on my tattoo practically sizzled as if someone had poured hot oil over my arm.

“Sawyer,” a mysterious voice whispered in the darkness.

The shadowy figure moved with startling speed, whisking around and darting behind me. I barely had a moment to react before a strong grip clamped on my shoulder, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from my lips.

Abruptly, I was spun around to face the source of my fright. “Sawyer, it’s me,” the person urged.

My vision struggled to adjust. Then, I was staring into Justice’s dark brown eyes. A rush of emotions flooded me like a chaotic kaleidoscope, making it hard to focus on anything else.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My chest tightened, cutting off my air. I glanced around the parking lot wildly, looking for the dark shadow, but it was gone. Or was it? My tattoo wouldn’t stop burning as if trying to scream it’s still here.

Justice tightened his grip. “Sawyer, what’s wrong?”

I stared at him, trying to decipher whether he had been the dark shadow. He was a vampire and could move in the blink of an eye. “Was that you?”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head as confusion flickered across his face. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” Uncertainty laced his voice.

I wiggled from his grip, or maybe he released me. I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Were you over by my car, then calling my name in an eerie voice?”

He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

Heavy, rushed footsteps echoed behind us. I turned to see Damon marching toward us with his fists clenched and jaw tense. He stopped in front of Justice and pointed accusingly at him before pushing himself between us, his chest puffed out. “What’s happening here, vampire?” he demanded.

---