Going Nowhere

Chapter 12 - Karaoke-nightmare

"Gramps!"

My voice was both loud and desperate because I had no clue what one would wear on a karaoke-night at the community center in Nowhere. Polyester pant-suits would be my guess, but since I would rather be dead – and possibly eaten by a ghoul – than donning myself in one of those, I was at a loss.

"What?" he yelled back from the porch.

"Clothes?"

"Optional!"

Eek! Naked karaoke?

"Red tee and jeans or yoga pants and a flannel?" I squeaked.

"Tee and jeans!"

"Loose or tight jeans!?"

"Tight!"

Shit. The last had not been yelled by my grandfather.

Jackson Vik-Hansen had apparently arrived early.

I dressed in a bright red, tight crop top with a print which announced to the world that I was wild, and a pair of jeans. And no. Not the tight ones, but the low-slung loose ones which made my butt look pretty awesome. Jack might have spent more time discussing how he shat after Indian food than sharing every nuance of our kiss, but he'd still kissed me. With lots and lots of tongue.

When I reached for a pair of silver hoops to put in my ears, my gaze fell on the pile of cash on my nightstand, and since I knew my brothers well, I pushed it into a drawer and put a few of my silver bracelets on top. The triplets were a lot more werewolf than me so they couldn't move the silver. Ha.

I had all that cash for two reasons.

One; I returned Pookie and got the finder's fee. I tried to not accept it since I'd been the one who'd scared the stupid animal into befriending a ghoul and living the high life on the banks of Willamette River. His owner cried crocodile tears of joy, refused to take no for an answer, and pushed the money into my hands. Joel and Elsa got their share, but there was still a considerable sum for me.

Two; I returned the leather-murse to Gabe. He tried to get out of paying by ordering me to not request a reward. I stared at him for a while, and he sighed deeply. Rafael laughed and handed me another heap of cash. Three-way split ensued, and I added to my pile of rent money.

Gabe sighed again, and I grinned at him.

"Fugly bag, Gabe," I shared.

It wasn't ugly exactly, or at least not compared to other manbags I'd seen. It was clearly expensive, and the leather seemed to glow with a golden light.

"I like women who do what I tell them," he retorted.

I knew he did. Angels were pretty rare, but everyone knew about them, and especially girls who had fathers like mine. Rafael had said he was half satyr, though, and I'd had no clue what that was, but Elsa had explained about them being the followers of Bacchus. Everyone totally knew who Bacchus was, mostly because if there was a party and it was a great one; he'd likely organized it. He was apparently in rehab, but he was according to gossip scheduled for an appearance in one of the weight-losing reality shows in another month, so he was probably drying up according to plans.

Rafael was half of each but seemed to take after his father's side more, at least appearance wise. He would have looked a lot less hot with thinning hair and a potbelly.

"I wonder why Kitty doesn't obey you," Elsa said thoughtfully. "You are both angels, so she should. I'll investiga –"

"Arch."