The blonde dumped a bunch into the mug and stirred it with her finger, showing no signs of it burning her. She took another sip, made a face that said it was still disgusting, but then continued drinking. “Do we even know if my flight is still on time?” asked Daisy, glancing up from her finger-stirred coffee, looking stoned. “I kind of hate that our house is a black hole of cell reception lately and our internet has been about as reliable as a guy when he says ‘just the tip.’”
“So not reliable at all, got it,” said Liberty.
Isobel continued to face the coffeemaker. “The internet people are out front still from last night. Saw them on my way to the sweet-nectar maker.”
Liberty sighed. “They’ve been working on the issue forever. Not that I’ve actually seen one of them. Just the van, but still. Our luck someone who works for the company moved in down the street and the van is parked there because of that—not because they’re actually working on our internet issues.”
“If they did, one of us needs to consider blowing them for better internet. I nominate Isobel,” said Daisy before licking her finger clean of coffee.
Liberty snorted. “I second that.”
“Both of you can kiss my butt,” said Isobel, still facing the coffeepot. She yawned, adding a big stretch to the mix. “I had the weirdest dreams last night.”
Liberty perked. “Did they involve an attractive large man with blue eyes?”
“Who also happened to let you braid his hair?” added Daisy with a partial grin.
“Brat,” said Liberty.
Daisy grinned more.
Isobel shook her head, still facing the counter. “I was little again in the dream.”
“Were you hacking a government database?” asked Liberty, wanting to keep the tone of the conversation light.
Isobel lowered her head and tensed. “I was beating the crap out of some other little girl. Whoever she was, I didn’t like her, and she didn’t like me.”
A gasp came from Daisy. “Did she have blonde hair?”
Isobel turned slowly, her dark brow lifting. “Yes.”
Daisy held her cup tighter to her chest. “I might have had the same dream.”
Isobel looked to Liberty, a question in her gaze.
Liberty shrugged. “I didn’t dream about her. I dreamt about the guy who helped me again. Did either of you catch a name for the girl? Maybe Isobel could try to search for her on the internet or something.”
Isobel curled her lip. “Did you miss the part about me not liking her and pretty much body slamming her?”
“But if she’s like us—”
Daisy cut her off, still looking as if she was trying to wake up fully. “I want to connect with others like us, but the vibe I got off her in my dream wasn’t a good one, Libs. We don’t need toxic people around us. And everything about her seemed toxic.”
She was right. Liberty knew as much but couldn’t help but feel like they should at least try to find her. A lot could change about a person in twenty years. She probably wasn’t the same as she’d been back then. And she probably felt totally alone in the world.
“What if she’s going through what we are? What if she’s developed weird abilities that she can’t talk about with anyone else?” asked Liberty.
Daisy blinked in a dramatic fashion. “Tough cookies.”
“I thought you were all about helping people,” argued Liberty.
“I am, but my gut says she’s bad news,” returned Daisy.
Isobel nodded. “Agreed. Change of subject needed here, ladies.”
Daisy eyed Liberty. “Hey, did you ask me about your laptop a little bit ago?”
“I did,” responded Liberty, pleased that Daisy was finally awake enough to remember snippets of their conversation, even if delayed.
“It’s on the table in the hall upstairs,” said Daisy.
Liberty cocked her head to the side. “Really? I didn’t put it there.”
“I swear it’s there.” Daisy lifted the finger she’d used to stir her coffee and held it in a way that said she was making something close to a pledge.
“Daisy, since you’re semi-coherent now, where is your suitcase?” asked Liberty, anxious to avoid any possible missed flights.
“Upstairs,” said Daisy.
“Great. I’ll grab it along with my laptop,” said Liberty.
Daisy was normally put together and on top of things. Sleep deprivation had taken its toll on her.
On all of them actually.
Liberty left the kitchen and her semi-awake best friends. She was nearly to the staircase when she glanced out the front picture window. The first thing she noticed was the trail of running water leading from the back of the driveway of the demon house across the street. The next was an incredibly fit male holding an elderly man by his jacket as the hot guy took a hose to him.
The older man’s water-soaked pants were sliding off him. Part of his backside was showing.
She squeaked loudly, “Ohmygod!”
“What?” asked Daisy, walking out from the kitchen, yawning as she did. She took another sip of her coffee. “What are we ohmygodding?”
“Someone is abusing an old man! Look!” Liberty pointed.
Daisy glanced out the window as she took another sip of coffee. She blinked and then proceeded to spit coffee onto the window. “Ohmygod!”
Isobel walked out carrying the entire pot of coffee. She had apparently added milk to it and was drinking right from it. “I didn’t sleep long enough to be subjected to this level of ohmygodding. What’s ohmygod worthy? And I’m not cleaning that off the window. Daisy, you sprayed it, you handle it.”
Liberty and Daisy pointed at the demon house.
Isobel approached. She calmly glanced at the scene taking place across the street and tilted her head somewhat. “Am I still asleep? Is this a dream? Because I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m looking at a guy with a great backside and hair to die for, holding Uncle Sam while he sprays Uncle Sam’s butt with a hose. Also, is that Abraham Lincoln in the SUV? I’d like to wake up now. Uncle Sam’s ass is giving me nightmares.”
With that, Isobel turned and
