The crowd of tourists was so dense, even with the twins glaring at anyone in our immediate path, it took three times as long as usual to wind a path down the pedestrian mall. We passed a family dressed as aliens, their faces obscured by thick green grease paint. A street performer in a scarily convincing Michael Myers costume was collecting tips in exchange for jump-scares. Pennywise, the freakish clown from Steven King’sIt, was taking photographs with squealing teenagers. Freddy Krooner was singing a cover ofCreepby Radiohead.
Fitting.
Everyone around us seemed to be in costume. It was a blur of rubber masks, colorful face paint, fake vampire teeth, and pointed witch hats. Everything you could think of, from the Addams family to the zombie horde, was out in full force. It was thrilling, if a bit claustrophobic. Spooky music drifted from open shop doors, combining with the swell of chatter into a cacophony of noise. White mist poured from fog machines, adding an eerie effect to the evening. A luminous full moon shone overhead, illuminating what otherwise would’ve been a very dark night.
Tired of fighting our way through the throngs, we cut down a side alley that led away from the congestion of revelers. Coincidentally, it was the same one I’d been on when I got witchy-roofied by Sally, Agatha, and Eliza weeks ago.
Goddess, was that only weeks ago?
It felt like a lifetime. So much had changed since that night.Ihad changed since that night. I was embracing commitment instead of running from it. And I was falling in love with Graham instead of hating his guts. Though, the verb tense in that latter part was somewhat in question.
Was I falling?
Or had I already fallen?
I was jerked out of my musings when Holden and Hunter jolted to a sudden stop. A hand clamped down on my elbow, halting me in my tracks. I didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on — and I didn’t need to, as the reason became abruptly clear. Four gargantuan men unfolded from the shadows at the mouth of the alley, blocking our exit to the street. They were all of similar coloring, with bushy red beards and huge, ham-sized fists.
The O'Banion brothers, in the flesh.
Both twins instantly closed rank around me, so close I could feel the heat off their bodies. Tension poured off them in waves, but their expressions were carefully blank.
“We got a problem here?” Hunter asked, eyeing the four men as they approached, coming to a stop about ten feet away.
“Your brother has been sticking his nose in shit that doesn’t concern him,” Mickey spat, his voice fury-laced. “So, yeah, we got problems. Starting withher.”
My mouth went totally dry as his narrowed stare shifted to lock on mine. The look in his eyes promised pain. Alotof it.
“Your problem is with my brother, not with her,” Holden said lowly.
One of the other O'Banion boys stepped up to Mickey’s side. “She’s his bitch, ain’t she?”
My head snapped back like he’d slapped me across the face. Both twins tensed. Either they didn’t like him calling me a bitch or they didn’t like him getting so close to me. Probably a little bit of both.
“Yeah,” Mickey confirmed, still staring at me. “She’s fucking Graves. She’s also the psychic’s boss.”
“I’m not her boss!” I snapped without thinking. “I told you before, we have a symbiotic thing going on, like a sea anen—”
“Gwen,” Hunter cut me off, flicking out his hand palm-downward in a terseshut-itgesture. “Not now.”
My lips clamped shut.
“We want the psychic bitch,” one of the other O'Banions chimed in, stepping fully out of the shadows. He was even bigger than Mickey and, judging by the scars on his face from a life of bar fights, a good deal meaner. “We know you’re protecting her.”
“That so?” Holden asked.
Another brother stepped forward. He had a tattoo lacing up the side of his neck and the coldest eyes I’d ever seen. “Mickey made a deal with your brother. He broke that deal. Went his own way. Now, he thinks he can work around us, give back the jewelry Zelda took instead of handing her over like we wanted? And we’re just gonna sit by with our thumbs in our asses and… what? Say bygones? All good? Thanks for dicking us over?” He shook his head. “Nah. Fuck that. Fuck you. Fuck your brother.” His eyes slid back to mine and a scary light entered them. “And fuck his bitch, too, while I’m at it. That part, I might enjoy.”
I shivered.
Holden’s jaw clenched.
Hunter’s hand on my arm tightened.
The other brother, the scar-faced one, smiled. It was a cruel, evil little smile, the kind that made my skin crawl. “Shane’s right. We aren’t interested in letting the psychic walk. Not after what she did. Need to teach the cunt a lesson.”
The one with the neck tattoo grunted in an agreement. “Forgive and forget is not how we handle things.”
“Good thing you’re not handling this, then,” Hunter said, his voice carefully controlled, revealing none of his emotions.