“I better not,” Jay says, glancing at Ada. “Out of solidarity.”
I want to ask him if he can even get drunk anyway, but while Daniel is currently surrounded by people who experience the supernatural (including Mr. Supernatural himself), he still loves to pretend that it’s all a bunch of woo woo bullshit.
“So, you’re having car troubles,” he says to me, changing the subject. “Toyotas are pretty reliable.”
I shrug with one shoulder. “Everything has its limits. It’s treated me well so far, but what I’d really like to do is trade it in and get one of the hybrids.” I give Perry an expectant look.
She ignores me, smiles at her dad as she takes a sip. “The new models look like we should be driving a pack of children to a soccer game. The car will be fine.”
Hmmphf.
We stand in the kitchen making small talk (her dad loves to talk about the business and then passive-aggressively drop hints that we’re doing things all wrong), until Jay excuses himself, saying he has work to do next door.
I watch him leave, pausing by the door and squeezing Ada’s hand before he goes.
But the moment he steps outside and starts heading next door, is the moment I realize I should be talking to Jay about our new opportunity. He might know something I don’t.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell everyone, putting down the wine and heading out the door.
“Dex!” Ada hisses after me. “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to your boy toy,” I tell her, heading across the lawn.
“What? Why?” she cries out. “Oh god, Dex. Please don’t be problematic.”
I turn around, brows raised. “Problematic? Moi?”
Then I grin at her and run across the yard, leaping over the fence between the houses with room to spare. I manage to get right in front of Jay before he even has a chance to reach for the door.
“Do you have a moment?” I ask him.
He stares at me, then looks over at the fence that I ever-so casually jumped over like it wasn’t six feet tall, then back at me again. He looks a little impressed. He should be. I’m very impressive.
“What is it?” he asks, going around me and opening the door, gesturing. “I suppose it’s only polite to invite you inside.”
“I’m not used to any of your kind having manners,” I tell him, stepping inside the house. It’s a fairly cozy place, even though it’s absolutely packed with vibes, the kind that makes the hair stand up on your neck. It’s not bad, per se, it’s just a lot.
“My kind,” he scoffs, shutting the door behind him. “You make me sound like an alien.”
I shrug. “If the freaky shoe fits.”
“Declan,” a woman’s voice says in surprise.
I turn to see Dawn Knightly walking down the hall toward me, a mug in her hands, steam rising out of it. I’ve been over here a handful of times, usually to fanboy over her husband in his jam room downstairs, but I don’t dare ask her to call me Dex. She’s a legend in her own right.
“What brings you here?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea and eyeing me curiously. I can tell she never really knows what to do with me.
“I was hoping to talk to Jay about something, but now that you’re here too, another ear is always welcome. Where’s Sage?”
“He’s in the studio,” she says. “I have a feeling if it’s a question for the three of us, it’s not going to be as simple as you borrowing a cup of sugar.”
“Not exactly. I won’t take up too much of your time though.”
She gives me a smile that makes her look youthful against her crow’s feet and gray hair. “We’re retired, Declan. We have all the time in the world.”
She turns and heads down the hall and I follow, the hulking redhead behind me. “Is Jacob here?” I ask, looking around. “I thought I saw his car outside earlier.”
“He was, he’ll be back later,” she says, giving me a knowing look over her shoulder. “Something about some portal to Hell he has to go close up.”
I stare. “Are you serious?”
“Hard to tell with her, isn’t it?” Jay says under his breath.
While I’m still trying to figure out whether Jacob is acting as a demon bouncer or not somewhere, we walk down the stairs to the room in the basement. When the heavy door to the studio opens, sound floods out.
Sage is standing in the middle of the room, his black Les Paul hanging from his neck, some righteous tune coming from the amp.
He stops playing and looks up in surprise. “Am I being too loud?”
“Not at all,” she says.
“To be honest, you could be louder,” I tell him.
I know I’ve got the cheesiest fucking grin on my face right now. I can’t help it. Not only is Sage the coolest dude I’ve ever met, but his jam room is amazing, and every time I’m down here I just wish everyone would leave me alone so I could geek out over all the band memorabilia and instruments without embarrassing myself.
A little background: Sage used to be in the 70’s rock band Hybrid. Dawn was the young journalist sent to cover their North American tour. Jacob was their band manager, who was also managing a contract with the Devil who aimed to collect Sage before his twenty-eight birthday.
You know how it goes.
Anyway, the tour went horribly awry, people died, Dawn and Sage managed to fuck and fall in love, and now they’re here, in their sixties and retired, living next door to the Palominos.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Dex,” Sage says, raising his hand in a high-five, and fuck yeah I never miss an opportunity to high-five a rock legend.
I slap his hand and he winces slightly, which isn’t nothing when he’s pretty tall and solidly built
