Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(36)

“What should I do?” Lukas whispered. There was a hint of panic in his voice.

“Whatever you do, stay calm.”

The dog cocked its head back and forth, probably trying to decide what part of me to chomp first. A finger or chunk of shoulder. Maybe a tasty nose.

I had no desire to find out, because really, I liked my nose fine right where it was. Slowly, I extended my arm in the direction the bottle had bounced. “Try to kick the spray bottle over.

Lukas took a step to the right. The dog’s head swiveled at a wholly unnatural angle and it growled.

“Okay—bad idea.”

Mr. Winkie must have agreed, because he chose that moment to shoot forward…

And drool on me.

Warm drops of thick, foul smelling slime trailed down my cheek and neck as the thing’s ragged tongue covered my face.

“Oh my God! Get it off! Get it off!” Last year, I’d been bitten by a demon dog and it had been like losing a limb—but this was a thousand times worse. Its saliva was sticky and smelled like rotting fish. After a few attempts, I managed to push the dog off and stumble to my feet.

In a black plume, the dog disappeared. A moment later, he popped up crouched on the ground by the door, stubby tail whipping back and forth. It stretched forward, toes flexing and backside waving in the air, and gave a playful arf.

Lukas dropped my bag to the floor. “Did that thing just—”

I looked down the front of my shirt and cringed. Covered in slime. Fantastic. I’d have to rock slime-chic the rest of the day because I wouldn’t have enough time to run home and change.

“Where did the demon go?”

I sighed. The smell of sulfur was already fading. “It’s gone.” Craptastic was an understatement. Today was shaping up to be an epic fail.

I probably shouldn’t have taken the client’s money—I hadn’t actually exorcized the demon since it’d left on its own—but the way I saw it, I’d ruined a good shirt since demon drool stained worse than cooking grease. That had to count for something, right? And I had chased it away, after all…

Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my cell to flip the sound back on. When I unlocked it, I saw there were five new texts and two missed calls. All from Garrett.

Fan-frigging-tastic.





Chapter Fifteen




“Where were you this morning?” Garrett came up behind me as the lunch bell rang. “I was late waiting for you.” He stared at the stain on my shirt. “What happened?”

I slammed the door of my locker. “I told you I probably wasn’t going to make it. And why would you wait for me?”

Glaring at Lukas, he said, “I see you still have your shadow.”

Shadow? Since when did Garrett give a damn who I hung with?

He shrugged and stuffed both hands into his pockets. “Whatever. Can we get a few minutes of stalker-free time? I need to talk to you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

Five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? What could possibly happen in five teeny tiny minutes? I turned to Lukas. “You remember where we sat yesterday?”

He nodded once, but never took his eyes from Garrett. Garrett, in turn, glared at him.

“Mind giving us a sec? I’ll meet you in there.”

The second bell rang as Lukas reluctantly headed for the cafeteria. I waited for him to disappear around the corner before turning to Garrett and asking, “Okay, what’s the emerg—”

Without warning, he zoomed in and pressed his lips against mine. I did my best not to gag at the taste of Newports and orange soda, and pushed him away immediately.

“—ency…” I finished, blinking. “What the hell was that?”

A sly smile—the Garrett Girl Charmer, it had been famously dubbed around school. “A kiss.”

“Obviously, but why did it land on my lips?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. Us.”

This was not happening. “What are you talking about? We’re not even friends!”

“I think we’d be good together.” He leaned in again, breath tickling my cheek. “I want you to be with me.”

Back pressed against the locker, I sucked in a quick breath. I could face down an entire nest of rampaging harpies, but the idea of brushing off the sudden amorous advances of a sort of friend made me almost pee my pants. Where was the balance in that?

“Aren’t you, like, dating Holly Gillman?”

“I quit her this morning,” he said, voice dark and sweet. He grabbed my hand, thumb stroking circles just below my wrist. His palms were clammy and calloused and scratched my skin in a way that gave me sick chills. “I’ve heard the talk. I know you don’t date—”

“You’ve heard the talk? What talk?”

“The guys—they talk. I told them they were wrong, that you weren’t an icy bitch—”

“Icy bitch?” I didn’t know what pissed me off more. The fact that, apparently, my lack of interest in climbing into the back seat of Harry High Schooler’s Chevy to let him shove his tongue down my throat classified me as icy, or that they’d taken the time to discuss it at length.

“It’s okay. I set them all straight. I told them we’d hooked up.”