Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Why did you take off your pants anyway? What if children came to play around here?”
Emil cocked his head. “What? No one comes here. We’re at the back of my house. I didn’t want to get my clothes wet.” He pointed to Adam’s shorts which had damp spots all over.
It was hard to disagree with that logic, so Adam shrugged. “At least it’s hot.”
“Yeah, we’ll dry in no time. I’ve never met a dumber goat than Leia. She might have horns, but her spirit is that of a chicken.” Emil shook his head, watching the black goat prance around and spray them with more water.
Adam smirked. “Didn’t know you had more animals. Any other secrets?”
Emil cocked his head and the way he focused on Adam made him shiver more than the cold water had. “Better tell me what this ‘official business’ you’re here on is. I don’t see a collar around your neck.”
Adam rubbed his nape, already embarrassed over what he was about to say. “A parishioner, who shall remain anonymous, visited us today and said you’re telling people’s fortunes. As in, lying to them. And I’ve been asked to… er, investigate.”
“Mrs. Golonko, wasn’t it?” Emil raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, as steady and imposing as the mountains around them.
Adam swallowed, feeling as if he were shrinking in the face of such masculine beauty. His gaze strayed to Emil’s left pec where three dates had been tattooed in a neat font alongside four small crosses. The ink surely commemorated important deaths, but Adam’s mouth still watered as if he’d just smelled his Mom’s roast. “Did she come here first?”
Emil shook his head. “She always gets other people to do her dirty business.” He turned on his heel and gestured for Adam to follow him into the house.
Adam stuck his hands into his pockets and glanced down Emil’s body, past the broad back to the compact ass. He should not have been staring, but keeping his thoughts in check was too hard sometimes.
“Yeah. She’s not the nicest person out there. But since when are you a fortune teller? Because it’s just make-believe, isn’t it?” Adam asked, silently praying that he hadn’t been wrong about Emil, and the man wasn’t a devil worshipper who kept Leia for some dark magic purpose.
Emil opened the back door to his home and let Adam pass into the shadowy space inside. It was like entering a whole different realm after Adam’s walk in the sunshine, and his eyes had to adjust.
“How is this any of your business? You come here, all smiles, but our last meeting didn’t end on a friendly note,” Emil said and pulled on a T-shirt.
His words stung, but Adam chose to ignore it. “You were the one to walk away. I am asking, because people don’t have the best opinions about you. Do you think it’s a good idea to let them think you’re dabbling in the occult?”
Emil sighed and pushed back his long hair. Adam wished he could entangle his fingers in it too. Now that his eyes got accustomed to the shadows, he was surprised to see an interior that would suit an elderly couple much more than a young metalhead.
The low ceiling made the large room cozy, and after a moment of confusion, Adam realized they were in a kitchen with an old-fashioned gas stove, a sink, and lots of cupboards with everything from towels to rows and rows of jars containing various kinds of preserves. Bundles of herbs spread a homely aroma from the wooden beams, and the walls were crowded with pictures depicting people in traditional dress, animals, and nature. One side of the room was dedicated to family members, who stared at Adam from framed photos, all of them curious what he wanted from their Emil.
He glanced toward the window, only to stumble into Emil when he faced a magpie hung from the wooden curtain rod by the neck. “The hell?”
Emil rolled his eyes. “It’s tradition. To ward away the devil. My grandparents always fought over it, but when my grandma died, grandpa finally got his wish and hung it up. You want a drink?”
Adam rubbed his face and nodded, still not over the fact that he was about to receive something to drink in the house of a man who kept a dead bird in his kitchen. “Yes.”
Emil raised a bottle without a label in one hand and a jar of loose leaf tea in the other. “Wholesome tea, or advocaat? Made it myself.”
Adam snorted, oddly at ease in the homely space, despite the bird offending his senses. Maybe this house was where Emil got his scent from? The whole place smelled just like him. “You only live once. I’ll have the advocaat,” he said, noting a bowl of cut fruit on the floor in the corner. He didn’t think of it much, since Emil clearly adhered to local traditions, whether he believed in them or not. Something pulled him to that spot though, and his stomach grumbled. Maybe he’d eaten too little for lunch after all.