Page 20 of The Midnight Order
“Damn. Yeah, neither of them ever has good news if they’ve got their clipboard out,” she agrees.
“At least this town has excellent coffee,” I mutter.
“That’s the spirit; look on the bright side.”
“I should just knock the fucking house down and be done with it. I don’t know why I’m so determined to fix it. It’s not like I’m going to stay here.”
“You’re not?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I wanna flip it and sell it.”
Her laugh has a note that almost sounds like she thinks my idea is absurd.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, it’s a little pointless to fix it up when it won’t sell. Outsiders don’t come here, and no one in town needs a residence right now.”
Her evaluation pisses me off, but it also strikes me as odd. “I’m an outsider. I’m here.”
“Mm, but youaredifferent, Silver. The town wouldn’t let you in if you didn’t belong.” She finishes her drink and stands, heading for the door.
I hop off my stool, holding the counter as the room swims. Grabbing my purse and tossing cash down, I hurry after her.
“Hey,” I shout when I finally get outside. “What do you mean the town wouldn’t have let me in?”
She turns, a knowing smirk making her porcelain skin crinkle around her mouth and eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She looks at her watch. “Any minute now, honestly.”
As she walks away, I try to riddle out her words.
This town is so fucking weird.
Even with all its oddities, it’s even more perplexing that I’ve never felt more comfortable somewhere.
A hand covers my mouth from behind, and I scream into the palm of a man who leans over my shoulder and whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, this will all be over soon.”
Confusion mutes my screams before he runs two fingers over my forehead, and my body grows lax. Darkness swallows me whole.
Suddenly, every strange thing I’ve been shoving into my box of worries glares at me, judging my stupidity as I’m kidnapped while I can’t fight back.
They really don’t like outsiders here.
“How much powerdid you use, Asher?” a man grumbles, and it makes the throbbing in my head pulse against my temples harder.
“Not that much, but she smelled faintly of alcohol. Maybe the two don’t mix.”
“Youknowthe two don’t mix. I swear you see a pretty one, and the cogs in your brain stop fucking turning.”
My eyelid opens forcibly, and a light is shined across it.
“Pupils are reactive. You haven’t killed her.”
“Thanks for the assessment, Doc.”
“My head,” I groan, rolling onto my side as my stomach screams at me that it was the wrong move. “Fuck.”
My stomach retches, its contents splattering whatever is in front of me as men groan and scurry backward.
“I’m sor—” vomit cuts off my words as my body continues to reject all the beer I downed before falling into a stupor of some kind.
