Gypsy Rising (All The Pretty Monsters #5)(23)

This shouldn’t be more interesting than the hotel, but this is a refreshing first. People…who don’t snarl at my wolves.

“When will you check again?” she asks, smiling broader.

“When I’ve finished my shift for the night and have a first-officer present to relieve me.”

She struts away from him, apparently satisfied by that answer, and he darts a look to her ass for the barest of seconds, so quickly I almost miss it, as he smirks again.

When his face goes stoic once more, I realize the moment of distraction is over, and I step over the threshold and into…the semi-damaged guts of the home.

“The wiring is outdated and needs to be brought up to code,” Tiara states from the kitchen.

Okay, so I knew it’d be a little bad.

“The ceiling will need to be replaced as soon as possible,” Mary yells down from the top of the fifth and final floor.

Okay, so it’s worse than a little bad, because that’s a whole lot of ceiling.

“Is Dad here yet?” I ask Avery.

“He is, madam. He’s been busying himself all day with the calculations, if you want them,” he says almost regretfully.

“Yeah, whatever those calculations are, tell Vance I’m deducting it from what I’m paying him,” I murmur absently, as Lemon squeaks out a sound of surprise, and a chunk of the balcony from the second floor drops to the ground. “He may end up having to pay me for taking this off his hands,” I add flatly.

“Going to need a lot of new windows,” Leiza informs me…from somewhere.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it,” I grumble, feeling almost cheated, even though I begged for this.

“I’m sure Sir Van Helsing would appreciate hearing that directly from you. He’s been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to reach you for the past two days,” Avery reminds me.

“He told me to forward all my questions to you because he was busy, and now I’m a little too busy for him to tell me I can’t do this.” I dart a dubious look toward him. “Are you going to tell me I can’t do this?”

He fights a smile, as he gives one shake of his head. “The law says you can.”

“I bet you actually know more about the law than Vance. Can I pick your brain about some things later and you keep it between us? Or is that a really disrespectful request that puts you in a bad position?”

Martha, the tallest woman I’ve ever met in real life, chooses that moment to go riding through the foyer on a pink bike with a little bell, smiling broadly as she honks the horn. I’m worried about what stiff, dead thing she’s found with black fur to carry around in the front basket…

Even Avery just stares for a second, as she rides on through, disappearing around the corner.

“It’s…fine. I’m on your service until Sir Van Helsing returns,” he assures me, distractedly, when Blubber—I can’t seem to get too many real names from this bunch—squeals in excitement, as he zooms by on a hover board.

“Wheeeeeeeee!” he squeals, expertly turning the same corner as Martha just did.

“Am I supposed to call you Sir Avery?” I ask.

“It’s not a formality used outside of the men under me,” he says, eyebrows hitting his hairline when Felipe comes racing through on a unicycle with a diaper strapped to his head.

Felipe stops, stares at us for a second, as he chomps on what sounds like rubber gum, and then starts blowing a bubble, as he drives off like there’s nothing to see. My eyes widen in slight horror when I realize he’s not chewing gum and blowing just any bubble. It’s a condom. Felipe has a condom in his mouth. How did he—

Shera snorts, drawing my attention, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter, as she runs away from the third floor balcony like she’s trying to hide from me. Unbelievable.

“You’re going to have to work harder to keep a straight face around here, Sir Avery,” I state dryly.

He wipes his smile away with one hand, but it stays in his eyes, as he darts an amused look my way.

“Construction is going to be interesting,” I say as a chandelier drops straight down.

We both hop away just as it crashes to the ground, and glass sprays, as the crash echoes through the hollow halls.

Avery clears his throat and lazily moves back into his militant stance. “Demolition might be just as effective, madam.”

I move my head from side to side, looking at the new mess of glass blocking the fun train that has come to an abrupt halt. Popeye—seriously, some real names would be great—brings his Segway to a screeching stop, frowning at the glass, as he pulls off his oversized sunglasses and drinks from a coconut.

I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Where did all the toys come from?

“Curious, Sir Avery, did the guys drop off Christmas presents a little early or a little late?”

“They are actually from your mom,” Ingrid says from inside the wall next to us, causing Sir Avery to startle and turn a little red. “I love how much space there is in here—I can actually do more than stay in just one spot. Can you rebuild it the same?”

Before I can answer, Dad comes walking down the steps with his hard hat and tool belt, quirking an eyebrow in my direction.

“How long will it take to spruce up the place?” I ask brightly. “It’ll replace that job you’re losing because of that really stupid thing you did.”