Afterlight - Elle Jasper [6]
I gave him a playful punch to the gut. “Yeah, well, not until eleven, so it’s no big deal.” I elbowed his ribs. “You can come in and sweep the floor for me.” I grinned and dug my boot toe into a gnarled bump in the tree. “You’d better turn your head unless you want an eyeful.” No doubt my skirt was about to take a ride up my fanny again.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, and turned his back.
As I crawled over the fence, I could hear Riggs and the others whistling. The sound wasn’t that far away, and I knew they watched from close-by shadows. Freaking little perverts. A growl escaped Seth’s throat, and I imagined that if Riggs had been close enough, Seth would have laid into him. My brother was lanky but as strong as hell.
As I landed on the soft ground and my heels sunk into the dirt, I noticed how deathly silent Bonaventure was. Not a single night bird, bug, or frog—or Riggs and the guys—made a single sound. The fine hairs on the back of my neck and arms rose, and I quickly brushed the uncomfortable feeling off.
“What’s the matter?” Seth said as he dropped to the ground beside me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
My gaze swept the graves, the luminescent marble statues that peeked through the trees, and the longer I stood there, the stronger the bad feeling became. “You don’t feel that?”
Seth was silent for a split second. “Yeah. What is it? It’s creepin’ me out.” He scanned the cemetery. “Too quiet.”
I glanced at him. “You know what crypt you were in, right?”
He pushed his floppy bangs off of his face and nodded, his glassy-eyed stare reflecting the night. “Not until after. I tried to talk Riggs into leaving it alone, but he’s an idiot. He’d kicked the gate in before I could stop him.”
I wholeheartedly agreed. Riggs was an idiot. “Well, let’s get out of here, huh?” I pointed. “Jeep’s over there.”
“Can I drive?” he asked.
“No.”
“Damn.”
I grinned as we hurried across the sandy lot outside the cemetery and past the two pillars of the entrance. But the weird feeling stayed with me, grated at my insides, even after we pulled away. I eased down the one-lane street, waiting for a glimpse of Riggs and the guys as they stumbled from the cemetery, and the raw gut feelings that clawed at my insides disturbed me. I’d spent too many teenage years looking over my shoulder in the shadiest streets of Savannah. I had to watch my own back, and gut feelings were things I paid attention to.
I felt as though someone watched us. And I didn’t think it was Riggs and his friends, either. Weirdest damn feeling I’d ever had. I never get spooked. When I was Seth’s age, I was one badass punk kid. I didn’t have a scared bone in my body, and I’d do anything anyone dared me to do. I’d even looked scary as a teenager, with my naturally pale skin and, back then, red hair streaked black, kohl-rimmed eyes, and black lips. I’ve walked Savannah’s cobbles the whole of my life, been in the darkest alleys, and I’ve seen a lot of crap go down. I’ve been in a lot of crap as it was going down. I was one effed-up kid back then, and if it weren’t for Preacher, I still would be. But I’d never had a feeling creep over me like this one. I wanted to continuously look over my shoulder, or worse—overhead. What the hell would I be doing that for? What would be overhead?
The muggy brine from the marsh whipped at my face as I shifted into third, and I glanced at Seth. He was biting his nails and staring out what would have been his window, had the Jeep’s top been on. I knew why he was acting funny. He’d been inside da hell stone. I’d be freaked-out, too, were I him. Dammit, he knew better than to go inside something like that. But I wouldn’t torture him by asking a load of questions tonight. Tomorrow. I’d wait until tomorrow.
“There they are,” Seth said, pointing off to the left of the narrow street. Sure enough, there were those dingdongs, cutting across someone’s yard. They disappeared around the