Midnight Poison (The Paranormal Poisons Saga #1)(128)

I knew he was mocking me. Irksome, but I was too out of sorts for snappy repartee. "You're welcome." I looked around half hoping a demon would show up to get me out of this mess.

"So what did you mean?"

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "Well." One hand went to my hip as I tried for nonchalance but doubted I could pull it off. With the other I swung a finger back and forth at his shoulders. "I thought you were, um, literally … " I dropped my hand, unable to finish shoveling myself further into the muck. "Never mind."

"Literally smoking?"

"Yes, but … " Yeah, like that didn't sound nuts. I waved my hand to erase the absurdity.

His look changed. The amusement gone, his gaze sliced into mine, sharp, extracting, intruding, as if trying to elicit some information from my soul. Icy tendrils of discomfort skittered between my shoulders.

"What're you doing here?" asked a new voice.

My neighbor had the look. Boys next door were supposed to be fresh-faced with fair skin, butterscotch-blond hair they brushed out of clear blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles. They were also supposed to be friendly. We'd moved in a week ago and this kid had avoided us like we were a family of spitting cobras on crack.

"Tristan!" the dark-haired boy exclaimed and gestured to my neighbor. "Come on over. This is … " he trailed off, looking at me.

"Aurora," I said.

"This is Aurora. And she thinks I'm smokin' hot." Mr. Exotic's hand slid across his mouth in an effort to cover the mischievous grin he couldn't, or wouldn't, fight.

"Yeah, right." Tristan shoved his friend. But horrific mortification must've shown on my face because he frowned. "Really?"

"Noooooo," I said too quickly. "Not exactly." Before I could explain, something laced across my legs and frightened me into an awkward jig, arms flapping, and an odd warbling noise strangled from my throat. Not embarrassing at all. 

Both boys smiled at the threat. Van Helsing, my cat, hair all on end. Whenever demons were around he looked like he'd stuck his paw in a light socket.

"What's your last name?" Mr. Exotic said.

I blinked. "Uh, Lahey."

"Irish. Explains the red hair. And you just moved here last week? With your family?"

"Yeah." I realized I was twirling my curls around my finger and dropped my hand.

"Both parents?"

"Both? Yeah."

"Where are you from?"

"Los Angeles but-"

"Up from the big city." He cut me off, eager for the next question. "What brought you to Gossamer Falls?"

"Ah." My gut twisted. My hands mirrored the movement. I shoved them in my pockets and fabricated a smile. I half turned, now desperate to be elsewhere. "I should-"

"How many kids in your family?"

Tristan gave his friend a questioning look, but Mr. Exotic waved him off.

"Five." I felt like he'd started a game of twenty-questions without telling me. Why was I playing?

"Are you the oldest?"

I narrowed a look. "Yes."

"I'm guessing sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Seventeen."

"Junior?"

"Yeah. I think I'd better-"

"So are we." He slapped Tristan on the back. "We'll probably have some classes together. Won't that be great?"

Tristan nodded a tight smile. He didn't look like he thought it was great.

"What do your parents do? Do they travel a lot?'

My brow wrinkled. "No, they don't." I was tired of the interrogation. "Do yours?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Do your parents travel a lot? Are they still married? How many in your family? How old are you? What classes do you have? Boxers or briefs? What's your GPA? Do you always go around knocking strange girls off their feet and then hammering them with a barrage of personal questions?" I finished with a cocky smirk.

Tristan hid a grin behind his fist. Mr. Exotic leveled me a steady stare, a sly smile gaining momentum. "Do you always end up straddling the guys who do?"

Tristan choked. My smile froze. Crap.

"And as for the boxers or briefs." One hand went to his belt buckle. "I'd be happy to … "

Double crap. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder toward my house. "I've gotta go."

"No, wait." He was laughing now. At my expense. "Just one more thing."

I gave Mr. Exotic an expectant look, but while he bobbed his head toward me, he spoke to Tristan.

"Take care of it," he said. "She had a bad run in."

My neighbor lit up with interest. "With the-?"

"Yeah." The guy twirled a long, slender finger around his temple. "So, you'd better-"