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Deke

Sitting in the passenger seat of Cady’s 1997 metallic green Chevrolet Cavalier, “I just want to see if I can sneak a peek inside. Remember, she is supposed to be with Oliver which means he might be here,” Deacon said, eyes scanning the impressive house up the way and across the street.

Cady shook her head, mouth pursed, “Stan said we were supposed to stay put. I honestly don’t think we should be here,” she replied, clenching and unclenching her hand on the steering wheel.

“For all we know right now, Oliver could be tied up in the basement and they’re harvesting his organs for the black market as we speak,” Deacon countered with a cheeky grin.

Rolling her eyes, Cady let out a sigh, “I highly doubt the sisters of Omega Pi are generating revenue for their house through the dubious organ trade,” she replied.

“I’m just going to drift over there and snoop around a bit, in, out, no one the wiser,” he assured. “Besides, I got my sneakers on.”

Grabbing Deacon by the collar, Cady pulled him close, kissing him on the lips, “Be careful!” she warned, eyes widening to emphasis her concern.

After the kiss, he spread his hand apart, “Please, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Rolling her eyes, Cady gave him a wry smile.

Flashing her a cheeky grin, he nodded and got out of the car.

Situated a substantial piece of property, the big house sat nestled amongst a number of Pasadena oak trees. Deacon imagined at one time the house was probably a manor house, isolated at the edge of the city but urban sprawl had brought civilization to it.

Crossing the street, he used the big trees as cover, approaching the house from the side and settling in beside some bushes.

Keeping low in the seat, Cady watched from the vantage of her car until Deacon vanished in amongst the vegetation around the house before reappearing and flashing her a wave. “We shouldn’t be here,” she murmured under her breath.

Feeling the rush of adrenalin, Deacon waited a moment to settle his breathing. The windows of the main floor were just above his head so he had to reach up and pull his body up to be able to peer in over the sill. He was not sure what is was he might be looking for, but hoped to catch a glimpse of something that might tell them where they could find Oliver. Nothing through this window.

Navigating slowly around the house, every noise he generated thunderous in his own ears, he tried to look into the house.

On the side away from Cady, near the front, he found two occupants of the house, neither whom he recognized, though one was the silvery haired woman who arrived in the fancy car and the other a brown-haired woman. If only the window was open, he might hear what they were discussing.

Sersei appeared suddenly so Deacon let himself drop to the ground. Had she seen him? Dammit. Pulling out his cell phone, he called up Stan’s message thread and put together a quick message, hoping to give him at least the heads up and warn the older man that he might have gotten a little too close. Was that enough? Nodding he sent the message, then immediately realized he had not said where here was so he hastily chased the first message with an address.

“Hello,” said a dusky female voice directly behind Deacon, the proximity so close it made him jump and lose his phone at the same time.

Turning, he looked at the woman, “Holy crap you scared the bejesus out me,” Deacon replied with a chuckle, mesmerized by the iridescent color of her eyes.

Bending down, she picked up his phone, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a small smile, “Can I help you?” she asked.

Grinning, “My stupid cat got out and I’m pretty sure I spotted him over here. I’m really sorry if I’m intruding,” he offered, eyes drifting down to the phone in the woman’s hand. The screen lit up.

“What is her name? Your cat?”

“His name is Mr. Bigglesworth, but we call him Biggie for short. May I have my phone please?” he asked, extending his hand. Something about the way she smiled made him shudder before something truly weird happened. She raised her hand and the next moment she was standing half a dozen feet away in the blink of an eye. “What the?” he babbled, mystified.

The woman smiled, holding his cell toward him, “Of course,” she replied.

Looking left then right, “What just happened?” he asked, taking a step forward to collect his phone. Why did his feet feel so heavy, like his shoes were made of lead? His mouth was dry.

Pleasant expression still on her face, she moved forward, placing the phone in his hand, but putting her other hand directly over his chest and suddenly driving him backward.

Unable to withstand the surprise force behind the move, Deacon grunted when his back hit the side of the house and pressed herself in close to him

“Are you a friend of Oliver’s?” she asked, mouth close enough to his right ear he could feel her breath.

Struggling to catch his own breath, Deacon coughed. What was happening? Why was she so strong? Reaching up with his free hand, he tried feebly to dislodge the hand pinning him to the wall and push her back but found he possessed no strength.

“Who is on the other end of the phone message?” she asked, breathing into his ear.

He would never tell. “Stan,” he gasped, mouth betraying his intent. Why would he tell her? There was a strange warmth pooling in his chest, feeling like it was radiating out of him and into her hand.

Her soft lips touched his ear, “So full of life,” she whispered.

Spots danced before his eyes and a whooshing sound filled his ears. It was the oddest sensation, almost like her hand was pushing against the whole of his chest as her fingers encircled his torso, her lips around the side of his entire head. So strange. It felt as if he were pouring out of himself. Could he have found his voice, he might have laughed, instead, he blacked out.

  

 

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