Carry On Wayward Son(27)

She stepped forward, holding out her hand—and flinched when it passed over the threshold.

Annie stilled, waited for retribution to drop on Theresa’s head. Nothing happened. But she jerked her hand back, her face white with shock.

Regina reached out to help her, gasped when her hand smacked into an invisible barrier. Annie clutched the wall, wanting to strangle the angelic bastard for handing out false hope.

Theresa’s nervous jabbering pulled her out of her revenge fantasy.

“Did you know we have some of the biggest rats here? They seem to love the sea air. You’re lucky, living on the street side of Beach. If you were on the ocean side, you’d have to watch out for them, they love to burrow in and settle.”

Regina’s face went white. “I have a basement.”

“A basement?” Theresa nearly shouted it. She might as well have stuck a neon sign on her forehead stating “I am a diversion.” Annie started forward, anger smothering her pain. “Quite unusual for California. Did you know—”

“Can I help you?” Annie interrupted her, and swore the girl lost about five more shades of color off her face. “We’re a little—occupied today, with all the moving in.”

She tried not to flinch, but Theresa noticed. Her gaze shot down to Annie’s hip, then back to her face. “Sorry to bother.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Can I ask a favor? Would it be possible to—”

“No.” Zach stalked down the stairs, favoring his left hip. Annie’s heart jumped when she saw Claire with him. Paler than the pristine wall behind her, but alive, and whole. He stepped to the door and grabbed Regina’s arm. Theresa blinked, but Annie gave her points for not backing away. Even a blind man could have seen the anger pouring off him. “You will go. Now.”

“Sure—just wanted to introduce myself, let you know if you need anything I’m right around the corner—”

“Now.”

She jumped, stumbling as she retreated. And froze when Claire came around the door, one hand closing over Zach’s wrist.

“Hello, Theresa.”

Brown eyes widened, panic jumping off her, causing sparks to dance across Annie’s ring. “Claire—I didn’t—”

“Know I was acquainted with Regina?” She tilted her head—and winked. Theresa relaxed, moving closer to the door. Still keeping Zach in place with her grip, Claire gave her an easy smile. “She’s a longtime customer. I was thrilled when I found out she moved to Santa Luna, and came over to see how I could help.”

Oh, she’s good. It could have fallen apart, right then, if Claire wasn’t the whip smart witch/ex-demon/fallen angel Annie knew and loved. She had to find a way to shorten that title—for future introductions.

With a sharp jerk Zach freed his arm and stalked forward. Annie held her breath; let it out in a painful whoosh when he halted, as if he’d run into a wall. The binding spell worked—and he was just as trapped. Served him right. The evil eye he gave Claire over his shoulder had Annie pushing off the wall.

“You will leave.” Zach all but snarled the words. “Immediately.”

“Sure.” Theresa pasted on a smile, but sweat trickled down her face. “I’ll tell my brothers you said hi.”

Claire looked startled, then nodded. “Give them my best, and tell them not to bother coming over. Regina got all the help she needed.”

“I—okay.” Theresa backed down the sidewalk. “I’ll try to catch them before they—bye, then.”

Annie didn’t see if she made it down the sidewalk without tripping. Zach slammed the door and lunged at her. Claire stepped in his path.

“No harm was done. A neighbor, being friendly. It is what we do, as humans.”

Swinging her gaze back and forth, Annie let the questions running through her mind stay on a mental treadmill. Fists clenched, Zach backed away, pain tightening his face when he put weight on his left side. Part of her felt a petty satisfaction that he hurt.

“You knew her.”

“Of course I did.” Impatience snapped in her blue eyes, but it didn’t edge her quiet voice. Annie would have been shouting and punching by now. “She lives here. Zach—you can’t find suspicion in every act. Mortal life isn’t neat and—”

He disappeared before she could finish.

“Something I should know?”

“Annie.” Claire strode to her, reaching out to support. And Annie realized she wasn’t limping, wasn’t flinching when her right leg moved. “How is your hip?”

“Hurts. Where the hell have you been? Where did he take you? Are you all right? What happened to your leg—”