Page 63 of A Murderous Crow
It was just a passing thunderstorm, but it wascoming downhard enough that the leak had started again.
I rose my phone to take a picture for the useless landlord when a text came through.
Synister would like an audience. Thursday night. I’ll pick you up at your office at 6:30. This is one of those times that I call and you answer, Bright Eyes. No argument, please.
“Just fucking great,” I mumbled, and I checked my calendar right then and there. Would wonders never cease? I was open. I quickly took the time to block it off before Fabian had the chanceto schedule anything and with a gusty sigh, got back to taking pictures and texting the slumlord.
Then, and only then, did I text Corvus back.
I’m free.I sent, then thought about it a moment or two and nibbling my bottom lip, I texted again.
Any way I can stay at your place tonight?
The leak was just oh-so-conveniently over my bed. So, it was either that, or I was sleeping on my couch.
I didn’t get a reply, and I sighed out harshly.
I shouldn’t have asked… I really… “Dammit,” I muttered and I shook my head.
If he didn’t get back to me by the time I was ready to turn in, then the couch it was.
I went into the living room and curled up under my throw, the little heater going in the fireplace and I turned on the television. I was on my laptop when a loud crack of thunder sounded, and then everything went out.
“Son of a bitch!” I screamed at the moldy ceiling. The glow from my laptop screen the only thing illuminating my darkened living room.
I checked and made sure it was alright and didn’t take a hit from a power surge, even though I kept it plugged in to a surge protector. Satisfied it was still in working order – just stuck with no internet, which I needed, I took up my phone, and used its flashlight to go check the small breaker box in the bedroom, hoping against hope that it was just a flipped breaker and the power wasn’tout, out.
No such fucking luck.
I sighed and lit my three-wick candle. It was dark by now, and the little light it gave off made things seem a little less ominous.
I cuddled on my couch under the throw, and must have nodded off – because it was super dark, the candle barely doing anything against it anymore when I sat up sharply.
I didn’t know what’d woken me, and so I sat still, ears straining, listening intently. A rapping came at my front door, and I leaped to my feet.
I swear to God, if the lazy-ass fucking slumlord deigned to answer any single one of my texts or complaints about this place and he showed up to fix itin the middle of the night, I was going to lose my shit! Considering nobody even knew where I lived, it was the only thought to enter my brain as to who would be knocking at my door – I checked my watch, at nearlymidnighton a Tuesday fucking night!
I ripped open the door and immediately quailed as it wasn’t my diminutive landlord standing on my stoop, butCorvus.
“How did you find me?” I blurted, and he cocked his head.
He looked past me and looked down at me.
“You got somebody in there?” he demanded.
“What? No!” I cried. “What are you even doing here?”
“I missed your text about crashing at my place. You didn’t answer your phone so I used the tracking software I have on it to find you.”
“Youbugged my phone?” I demanded, aghast.
“Technically it was the club’s phone before it was yours, and no – it’s not like I’ve been listening to you or your phone calls. It just has GPS tracking software on it. What’s going on? Youlivehere?”
He took a step off the sagging porch and looked up and around.
“My power went out,” I said unhappily, trying to come to grips with the whole being tracked thing.
“Let me in, Savannah,” he said gravely, and I huffed a breath and stood aside. He brushed past me and froze just inside my apartment.
