Page 64 of Dead Heat

He cut me off with a barking laugh. “Max is a stranger from a strange land. Did you really think Davies would be willing to host him? Your rose-colored glasses frame your face beautifully, but it’s time to swap them for a clearer pair.”

I bristled at the remark. “You know what? Never mind.”

“Never mind?”

“Max can stay with me until we figure out our next steps.”

“It isn’t safe…”

“Be the change you want to see in the world, right? If I expected West to open his doors to strangers, then I should be willing to do the same. I’m a goddess. I can handle it.”

“Lorelei, wait.”

The more I considered it, the more I wanted to do it. West was right; I had plenty of space and it wasn’t as though the cherufe required a comfy bed. For all I knew, he’d be perfectly happy in the cemetery among the headstones.

“I’ll call you later,” I said and hung up before he could try to dissuade me.

I returned to Max. “It’s your lucky day, friend. It appears I have availability at the Castle.”

“A castle? Wow, I wasn’t expecting anything fancy.”

I smiled. “Good. Keep those expectations low.” I studied his rocky build. “How fast can you move?”

“I’m slower than I’d usually be. Magma is lighter than you’d think.” He spread his arms, dropping a few stones as he moved. “Lower density than rocks.”

“We’ll take my truck. Follow me.” I tried not to worry about Max’s weight breaking the truck’s suspension, or the mess he’d leave behind. The latter was what hand vacuums were for—if only I owned one. I’d have to rely on the old dustpan and brush to clean the flatbed.

I drove slowly and avoided potholes. To anyone without the Sight, the cherufe would simply look like a pile of rocks. Given all the landscaping my yard required, it was a believable deception.

I helped Max out of the truck and escorted him through the gate. “Wait here,” I said. “I need to update my roommates on the situation.”

“Roommates? Nice. The more, the merrier.”

“You won’t be able to see or hear them.”

He nodded. “Got it. Imaginary friends. I grew out of those as a kid, but I don’t judge.”

“They aren’t imaginary. They’re ghosts.”

His gaze skated to the Castle. “That makes sense. This place screams haunted house.”

I ignored the unintended insult and hurried across the bridge to update Ray and Nana Pratt. They’d already zeroed in on Max and were watching him with concerned expressions.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “But let me explain.”

“It looks like one of Steven’s art projects from elementary school has come to life,” Nana Pratt commented.

“His name is Max. He’s a cherufe.”

“A sheriff?” Nana Pratt asked. “Of what? Red Rock Canyon?”

Ray nudged her, chuckling. “Good one, Ingrid.”

“Not a sheriff. A cherufe is a Chilean creature, usuallyformed from rock crystals and the magma pools of a volcano. Also, usually evil. In Max’s case, he isn’t evil and he’s hiding, so he’s currently made of rocks and mud from Wild Acres.”

Nana Pratt glanced at Ray. “Did you understand any of that?”

“Enough,” Ray said. “Why is he here?”

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