Bill eyed it and then him. “You wouldn’t.”
“I most certainly would.”
Bill tried to make a run for it.
Rurik snatched hold of the man by his jacket, ignoring the stab of pain through his arm, shoulder, and back. Had Rurik been at full strength he could have lifted the man easily with one hand for an indefinite period. That wasn’t the case now. Taking what he could get, Rurik began hosing Bill off.
“Gus, help! He’s trying to drown me!” shouted Bill, flailing about like a madman.
“Hardly,” growled Rurik. “I am doing everyone a favor. I only wish I had soap out here.”
Bill managed to gain momentary freedom and darted forward, to the grassy area where the water had already formed a puddle of mud. One second Bill was upright and the next he was on his ass, in the mud, sending a murderous glare in Rurik’s direction. “Commie bastard!”
Rurik stepped forward with the hose still in hand and grabbed Bill up and off the ground. It hurt like hell, but it would be worth it in the end if it meant the odor was gone. He returned to hosing the man off and Bill went right back to trying to get away.
Chapter Nine
“Do you have your bag?” asked Liberty as she rushed through the kitchen, looking for her laptop so she could sign in and finish going through final papers for Dr. Pasternak’s Russian literature class.
He wanted her to go through each one to be sure it was the required length, proper spacing and font, and included all the major points he’d asked for. In reality, he just wanted her to grade them. Though he seemed to prefer she do as much in his classroom when he worked in his office.
Since his office was attached to the classroom, that meant she was often left working in his line of sight. More than once she’d looked up to find him staring at her with what felt a lot like disgust. She didn’t voice as much to her friends.
Isobel would have wanted to kick his butt and Daisy would have insisted he talk about his feelings on the matter.
Where did I leave my laptop?
She’d last seen the computer on the dining room table, but it wasn’t there.
Her gaze slid over to the sink area where a shelf hung. On it was a wicker basket. The only thing in the basket was a bag of pistachios. Her lip curled and she shuddered inwardly, thinking of Dr. Pasternak and his love of them. The bag hadn’t been there the day prior.
Gross.
She didn’t know if it was Isobel or Daisy who’d bought the nuts. All she did know was that they’d not been there yesterday.
“Anyone see my laptop?” she asked, wondering if the loss of control of her curse during her sleeping hours had left her laptop out in a tree or, worse yet, another state. She tensed, worried her curse had somehow managed to make pistachios float from somewhere like Dr. Pasternak’s office at the university. She’d never tried to see how far her curse extended, but with her luck it would reach the office and bring Dr. Pasternak himself to the house.
Double gross.
Without hesitation, she went straight to the basket, lifted the bag of nuts, and put them in the trashcan.
“What?” asked Daisy.
She stood there in an oversized sweatshirt with a blue devil on it, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, glasses, and black leggings that had one of the legs partially up and the other down. It was clear she’d not bothered to do more than yank them on. She looked as tired as Liberty felt.
They’d talked for another hour while they were in bed before falling asleep.
Unfortunately, Daisy and Isobel had left their phones in their rooms, hence leaving the only alarms that were set to get Daisy to the airport on time in other rooms as well. Thankfully, the sound of a car door opening and closing a number of times from near the demon house had woken them or they’d have slept for hours more.
Isobel was at the coffee maker, watching it brew the pot as if staring at it would speed it up.
Daisy was in a zombie-like state, making her way around the house in slow motion and on autopilot.
Liberty was the only one concerned with Daisy possibly missing her flight. When Daisy was more awake, she’d worry too. Right now, they’d all be lucky if Daisy remembered her own name.
“Daisy, your suitcase,” said Liberty loudly, slightly concerned she’d somehow made it float away as well. “Where is it?”
“My who?” asked Daisy, confirming Liberty’s suspicion that if asked, she’d get her own name wrong.
Isobel moved the pot from under the steady drip of coffee and shoved a mug in its place. The mug began collecting the fresh-brewed goodness. She then poured part of the liquid from the coffeepot into another mug. She thrust that mug at Daisy without looking away from the coffeemaker. “Fuel. Drink.”
“Thank you,” said Daisy, taking the mug and sipping it. She made a face, indicating she didn’t like it before shoving it back at Isobel. “Ohmygod, did you just try to poison me? How much coffee did you put in the filter?”
“Not intentionally, and I don’t know how much coffee is in it,” said Isobel with a shrug. “I didn’t measure. I dumped it straight from the bag into the filter. Figured more is better. I considered eating the grounds straight from the bag. Still kind of considering doing that if I’m being honest.”
Daisy mulled it over before nodding. “Fine. More is better. I need sugar.”
Isobel
