Page 5 of A Pack of Pumpkins
That doesn’t make sense. The scent had been achingly strong in the house, as if an alpha were standing right beside me. A delicious-smelling alpha.
“Would you like to stay somewhere else while we look into this further? We could watch the house tonight and see—”
I shake my head before he can finish and glance back at the looming house. I don’t feel afraid. Just… perplexed. I’ve always trusted my omega instincts. They’ve never led me wrong.
My omega wants to stay here. She likes it. Crazy bitch.
I decline their offer. They promise again to send cruisers. I wave goodbye as they pull out of the drive.
Themoment I open the front door, the scent hits me—deep and warm, full of comfort and warmth. It sinks into my skin.
What the actual fuck.
I stand still straining to hear for any sound or movement. Nothing.
I decide to take a look around for my own piece of mind. I’m sure the officers know how to do their job but I won’t be able to sleep without checking myself.
I walk the entire house, opening every closet, every door, every cupboard. I rip back shower curtains like a lunatic. My heart lurches when a branch scratches across the far corner bedroom window.
I check the omega suite. Then I face the part of the house I’ve been avoiding. No one likes to go into the basement, right?
I stand at the top of the narrow stairs. The light flickers when I flip the switch. A Michigan basement, half stone, half cement, with open joists and a damp chill. The water heater hums in the corner.
I descend carefully, testing each step for rot, and scan the shadows. The space is wide and bare. Just a furnace, a steam trunk, and too many dark corners.
The moment I decide it’s empty, I whirl and bolt back up. The house is empty. But I still feel it. That prickling sense of eyes on me. Watching.
I can’t explain it. I can’t prove it. But it’s there. The scent has dissipated.
I think about calling Winnie, leaving this weird house and then dismiss it. What would I say? I can’t live in my new place because of one off scent? That sounds pathetic even in my own mind. That scent could be explained any number of ways. Just because I’m too tired to think of all the ways doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
Dragging myself upstairs, I change and put the new sheets on the pack-sized bed. At least the mattress is new, they’d assured me. My old twin had been so small, I’d roll off it half the time. This one feels endless, swallowing me whole.
I open the book Rose picked for this month’s club. Horror, of course. Fitting, with Halloween only a little over a month away. I need to finish it before the meeting.
I make it three pages before my eyes start closing. Setting the book aside, I turn off the lights and curl into the blankets.
When I wake hours later, I’m screaming.
Finian
I'vebeenwaitin',Darlin'.
Bram
It’sthreeo’clockinthe morning by the time we reach the house we’ll be living in for the next six months. The woods are ink-black, and when the car finally cuts through the trees to a meandering driveway, I’m so grateful I could weep.
We were supposed to arrive tomorrow, but decided to cut our last stay short. Our previous landlord hadn’t been impressed with Victor and Dagan’s latest YouTube documentary on waterbeds. I’m sure that bill will find us soon enough.
Jack parks. He’s practically a shadow, his dark skin blending into the night. Thick dreads spiral down to his back, the front pulled tight with a tie. He peers at the looming house.
“This place is creepy as fuck,” he observes.
Victor snorts from the backseat where his twin is still dozing. His golden-brown skin glows faint in the moonlight, dark hair swept back, sharp jaw studded with metal and shadows. Ink covers nearly every inch of him, tattoos tracing across his throat and down his arms. Piercings flash when he smirks.
“That’s why we chose it, remember?” he says.
Jack gives him a look. “Seeing pictures isn’t the same as standing in front of it.”
