Brush With Death: A Sadie Salt Urban Fantasy (Sadie Salt Series) Page 7

  He snarls and steps toward me. Benji’s hands were gone because he was now in front, guarding me. Before things come to a head, though, Henry body-checks Alec to get his attention. Distracted, Alec follows Henry out into my hallway.

  I’m afraid to move. Benji looks at me over his shoulder. “Doing okay?”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s probably a good idea not to antagonize Alec right now.”

  “You did!” I sound petulant, I know. There’s a buzzing that’s started in my head and the pain from behind my eye is now threatening to be a full-blown migraine.

  “I’m over four hundred years old and immortal, Sadie. I can afford to poke the beasts. You’re human and so very tiny.” He says this with something almost like affection before his brows knit together in concern. “Hey, I mean it, are you okay?”

  When I meet his worried gaze there are dots populating my vision. A rush fills my ears and before I know what’s happening, the ground is rushing toward me.

  Passing out in this situation is just about the worst decision you can make, Sadie. But the body does what the body does, and mine decides it just can’t handle the present reality any longer.

  “There’s a residue of bone magic in her apartment and she collects teeth!” Alec’s shouting, I can tell, but it sounds muffled. My eyes stay shut and I try to stop the whirling that’s happening in my brain. Disorganized thoughts are pinging around and my body feels disconnected.

  “I smelled it when I came in, too, and I understand your suspicions. But really, look at her. If she’s a bone witch, she wouldn’t need me here. She wouldn’t have called for help and she certainly wouldn’t have called you.” Benji’s cool, calm voice is near.

  He called me friend and I find that it means quite a bit to me. It isn’t that Ingrid’s friendship isn’t enough. I think it’s more that I often feel like I’m straddling two worlds and never allowed to fully be a member of either. If I could go back in time and tell past me to leave it alone, to stop searching my uncle’s library for answers, I would. Then I could be a normal, ignorant human who just had a tragic back story, but a whole lot of promise for the future. Instead, I’m entangled in the paranormal world, but because I have to keep my own talents hidden, I’m not seen as equal. I don’t have a nest, or a coven, or a pack. I just have my office and a sort of psychic best friend and a powerful but eccentric (and often absent) warlock uncle.

  A friend is nice. Especially one firmly rooted in a world that I have no place in. It also helps in this case that the friend has teeth, though not in the way I usually appreciate them.

  “Benji’s right, Alec,” Henry says softly. He must have shifted back while I was passed out. I know for certain I was out cold, because awareness is creeping back into my body. Their voices are muffled because someone put a fluffy pillow behind my head on my couch. “Sadie wouldn’t have called, and she’s helped the pack out more than once.”

  “Cleaning teeth is not helping the pack. It’s her job,” Alec snarls. Jesus, this guy has a chip on his shoulder. Henry’s beta to Alec’s alpha is preferable and thank the stars he’s here, too.

  “But she wouldn’t have—”

  “No, fine. She wouldn’t have called.” Alec grumbles. “Fuck. I just... he was a pup. And if there’s a bone witch in Grimloch, then we’ve got a huge problem.”

  “It wouldn’t take long to get a tracer here,” Henry added. Tracer? Note to self, ask Benji about this later.

  “I’m more concerned with hunters being drawn to it,” Benji said. Addendum to note to self: what the hell are hunters, too? “Also Sadie is awake and listening in.”

  My eyes fly open and I feel heat steal into my cheeks. “Sorry.” Sitting up feels iffy for a moment, but by moving slowly, I’m able to get up with only a mild sensation of swooning.

  “Feeling better?” Benji asks. He helps me up and I’m able to stay steady by using him as a focus point.

  “Not really. I’m all murder-and-suspicioned out.” With that foreboding sentence, there’s another knock at my door. “Okay, universe, you win,” I curse as I go to open it without thinking.

  “Sadie, wait—” Henry calls, but it’s too late, I’m on autopilot and swing the door open.

  It’s Abe again, the bruises under his eyes more purple than before. My heart sinks when I see a strain at the corners of his mouth that wasn’t there before my mortifying lie. His gaze widens as he looks behind me.

  I look over my shoulder and just... can’t.

  Henry is still naked, standing beside Alec. Benji’s waggling his eyes at Abe. “Hello, sheriff,” he calls. “So good to see you.”

  “What is going—” Abe shakes his head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. But Ms. Nickles called again and two noise complaints in a night means a ticket.”

  “You already gave me a ticket today,” I complain.

  He laughs, and there’s a hint of the Abe who used to think I was just a nice, quirky girl in it. “Technically I gave it to you yesterday. It’s one in the morning.” He presses the paper in my hand, shakes his head again, and heads out toward his still-running car. I’m almost certain I hear him murmur “freak shows” under his breath as he goes.

  I shut the door. “That’s it,” I declare. “I am at the limit of my human ability to stay remotely calm. I need someone to tell me exactly what to do. I need this fixed, I need Nash to not be dead and in my home, and—” my throat constricts and the tears come. Damn everything, now I’m just the weeping damsel, but what else can I possibly do at this point?

  All three men look distressed at the appearance of my tears, but Alec manages to do what he does best: He takes charge.

  “Sadie, I need you to go change out of those scrubs and give them to me. Take a long, hot shower or bath. We’re going to take care of Nash.”

  I nod.

  “There’s more. This is important. All three of us, before we arrived at Sadie’s home, saw Nash leave. He told me he was going to head home. Got it? All four of us saw him leave.” There’s this rumbling force of command in his tone. It’s a strange sort of subtle magic, but I feel it trying influencing me. It doesn’t, thanks to Tee’s generous gift of magic resistance, but I know it’s there. Not that I need the influence. Like I said, I’m willing to do anything if it will just make this horrible night end. We all agree, we saw Nash leave.

  I stumble to my bathroom and strip off the blood-spattered scrubs. It’s Nash’s blood, and I finger the now dried-brown flecks. There’s a dull ache in my heart, but I can’t pay attention to it, yet. Ingrid keeps a robe in here and I put it on. She’s so tall it hangs long on me, practically dragging on the floor, but I don’t mind. Its softness is welcome, a comfort in a dismal moment. Wrapping it tight around my waist, I step back out and give Alec the scrubs.

  He must see something in my face, because his frown lessens.

  “I’m sorry about Nash,” I say, and my voice catches.

  “You don’t have any idea what happened?”

  I shake my head. “Does the pack have enemies?”

  Alec looks over my head at a point on the wall, thinking. “Many. But none that I can think of who kill like this. We’ll be hunting down whoever did this, don’t worry.”

  Benji’s there, too. “I’ll keep watch on your place until the morning. But you need to talk to your uncle about protective wards. The heavy-duty kind.” I nod, dreading that conversation. It can wait until morning, though.

  I know I should mention my parents. It isn’t hidden knowledge, but most of the town only knows they were killed. The grisly details were left out of our sweet, simple local paper so the detectives could keep the investigation untainted. It was never solved, though, and the details never released.

  But I can’t tell him that. Because if I say it out loud, it means considering something that sends a chill to my marrow.

  That Nash’s murder is a message to me.

  Chapter Seven

  The alarm goes off at seven and Christ, my eyes hu
rt to open. I slept so hard I didn’t dream and, as memories of the night before flirt through my mind, that’s a small blessing. My body, starved for more rest and muscles aching from too much stress, won’t move. I have a headache behind my eye again and I know it’s going to morph into something big in a few hours.

  I’m hungry, but too tired to do anything about that, either.

  I hit the speed dial. Dr. Winston will already be awake and at the office by now. Sure enough, he picks up on the second ring. “Who calls a dentist’s office this early?” He barks. “Call back during business hours.”

  “Doug—”

  “You’re going to call out, aren’t you, Sadie? You call me Doug when you want to butter me up.”

  “Does it work?”

  “No.”

  I take a deep breath. I don’t have to fake sounding sick. The heavy, thick weariness has coated my throat like syrup, and my voice is strained and husky with it. “I’m still calling out. I’m not feeling well and need some sleep.”

  “Bullshit. I’ll see you when you get here, which will be on time.”

  Groaning, I bang my head once on my pillow. The flare of pain in it lets me know that was a stupid thing to do. “Doug, I’m not pulling your leg. I’m not well and I need to sleep.”

  “You need to sleep because you’re ‘tutoring’ four men in a night,” he grumbles, and that’s enough to wake me up. I launch to a seated position.

  “What did you say?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Missy. I spoke with Sheriff Murray this morning. He was hoping I could give you some extra work to help with your two tickets and he hinted that you are doing some horizontal tutoring.”

  “Jesus,” I breathe, rubbing my face hard, like if I just rub enough I can erase my entire life and start fresh. That would be nice. Almost worth trying another summoning and making another deal. As if that worked so well in the first place.

  “Yep. Now, I know times are changing and I try not to judge, but I don’t care how much money you’re short on. You don’t have to do that, girl.” His tone softens and I’m sinking into myself because my super-old boss is giving me a lecture about prostitution. Some part of me wishes that was the real problem.

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ll never do it again... if you let me stay home today.”

  “No can do. This is some tough love, Sadie. Besides, I have two root canals today and I need your help. Drink some coffee and suck it up.”

  He hangs up.

  It isn’t enough to say I have to drag myself out of bed. This is more monumental, like those crazy tire-flipping Crossfitters. It’s a full-body effort, filled with pain and protest. My stomach roils and great, I’m at the level of fatigue where nausea is kicking in. There’s not enough coffee in the world that can help me.

  I pull on a clean pair of scrubs and brush my teeth. The reflection in the mirror is scary. My cheeks are gaunt and pale, my eyes bruised underneath, and my hair, though clean, resembles a rat’s nest because I went to sleep with it wet. Another pony-tail day it is. Looking like this, I don’t know how Abe even believes that men like Alec and Benji would want to pay to bang me. After all, they were fit and good looking, and I’m not even Benji’s type.

  Nervous, I stand outside the door to my home office. It’s shut. On the other side, my imagination is already re-painting the walls with spatters of crimson, the carpet soaked in it. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.

  It’s cleanish. There’s a new rug under my dentist’s chair, which I assume is covering the stain. But the walls are clear, my chair is clean and sparkling, and all my tools and knick knacks are in place. Holy cow, Alec knows how to cover his tracks. That’s helpful to me, but not so reassuring in the grand scheme of things. How much covering up does he have to do?

  I make a mental note to send a gift to the pack and Benji. I’m not sure what is an appropriate thanks-for-getting-rid-of-a-body and sorry-for-your-loss gift, but I’ll think of something.

  In the kitchen, Ingrid was sweet enough to leave me a protein bar, an apple, and a cute little note that has something taped to it.

  When I pick up the note, my body hums with warmth. Tears wet my sleepy, itchy eyes and I refuse to cry, but damn it, her kindness is testing my willpower regarding the waterworks.

  Hey, Salty.

  Hope all went well with Tee. I was worried about you all night.

  Guess what? There was a gnarly bar fight! I found these while cleaning up.

  Cheer up, Sugarlump.

  Kisses,

  Ingrid

  Two teeth, a front incisor and a canine, are taped to the note. I peel off the tape and hold them in my palm. It was a good start to collecting for next month’s payment. I should turn and go put them in my desk.

  But they feel hot on my palm. There’s a soothing sensation that, weaving with my fatigue, feels like I’m on drugs. Before absorbing Nash’s tooth last night, I’ve never experienced direct reactions to teeth. It’s interesting that they feel so... tangible in my hands. Necessary? Of course, that’s probably just the exhaustion talking. I’m hallucinating now. Awesome. Doug needs me to be on time, so I don’t have to put the teeth away now, right? Pocketing them, I scarf the food and am out the door with enough time to stop and grab a large coffee with two shots of espresso on my way to work.

  “Salt, so help me God, if you can’t keep this mouth clear and my patient dies choking on her own saliva, you’re fired.”

  My eyes jerk open and sure enough, I’ve fallen asleep on my stool, the sucker resting on the patient’s cheek instead of inside her mouth. Her eyes are wide and rolling like a spooked horse’s, probably because Doug is more concerned with me than her possible death by choking.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Shaking my head, I angle the sucker back in and clean up so he can get back to work. He glares through his safety glasses and, though he’s wearing a face mask, I know he’s frowning at me. I can feel it, that’s how pissed he is.

  When he finally finishes up with the patient, I rush to get ready to check her out, hoping to avoid being scolded. It’s one thing to have a grandfatherly boss lecture you about indecent activities on the phone, but in person? Yeah, let’s not and say we did.

  Patient out the door, I shuffle back in to start cleaning up and sterilizing. Doug’s waiting for me. “We have another patient in a half hour, Sadie.” There’s no missing the warning in his voice.

  “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t care if you’re sorry, I care if you’re sloppy. This is my goddamn business and I need you to earn your pay.” Usually Dr. Winston’s rough love and curmudgeonly attitude make me laugh. But I’m past being able to find anything funny. I’m basically a zombie with a reluctantly beating heart at this moment, so his jabs slide past my thick skin and into the nerve.

  “Fuck you, Doug,” slips out before my brain can catch up with my mouth.

  “What did you say?” His eyes are flashing.

  Because I don’t know when to quit, I let my anger mount. It roars up, building a wall I can lean on. “I said, fuck. You. I needed to stay home today. I’m spread so thin I feel like I have holes in my soul, and I asked you for a break and instead you’ve been on my ass all day.”

  His deep breath reminds me of a bull getting ready to charge. My stomach clenches and I brace for it. “Go to the bathroom. Take the soap. Wash out that mouth, Sadie. Your uncle might have taken you in, but I’m the one who’s been here for you and I will not tolerate being spoken to like this.”

  My anger shatters as quickly as it had built up, fragile and unbecoming. “You’re right. I’m sor—”

  “Don’t say it. Go to the bathroom. Soap. Mouth.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Your job is on the line right now, Sadie. I’m serious.”

  There’s an urge to throw the sanitizer in my hand on the ground and storm out or scream or push back. Instead, I set it on the work table and go to the bathroom. As soon as the door lock slides into place, I
look in the mirror, glaring.

  “You will not cry, Sadie Salt. There’s shit to cry about, but you won’t do it at work.”

  Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I turn on the cold water only and splash it on my face. A shiver runs through me and for just a second, I feel awake and truly sorry for how I’ve acted. For freaking everything.

  For poor, poor Nash.

  And for me, because I probably don’t deserve the biggest pity party (after all, ninety percent of my tough times are my own stupid fault), but right now feels like I’ve earned it.

  Then I take the soap and I wash my mouth out, trying not to gag at its bitter taste and slippery, sudsy mouth feel. After rinsing, I lean my forehead on the mirror. My eyelids flutter shut. I might actually fall asleep standing, like a damned cow.

  Something itches in my pocket. My hand slides in to scratch and finds the smooth enamel of the teeth. They must have been tickling my leg through my pants. Pulling them out, my thumb caresses some poor guy’s smooth enamel. If he’d found these teeth after the fight and put them in milk, they might have been able to put them back in his mouth.

  But now they are mine.

  Words nudged the back of my mind. The magic the Tooth Fairy so generously bestowed on me. What a bitch.

  Swaying on my feet, the memory slams into me like a dream.

  Chapter Eight

  Oliver’s somewhere in town, doing minor spells for the sirens in the lake. Because they’re sirens, I’m sure they’ll keep him a while. He might be a warlock, but he’s still a man, and I’d rather not think too hard on the kind of payment they’ll give him.

  Gross.

  Instead, I swivel his office chair around in circles, going around and around until I’m dizzy and the birthday card falls from my hand. He did actually remember this year, so there’s that. But I’m eighteen, and I know Oliver wasn’t intending on raising any children, not even his brother’s daughter. I’m going to have to move out soon, I’m sure of it.