The Halloween Haunting

3. Bare Chests, Bingo, and Fangirls

3

Bare Chests, Bingo, and Fangirls

“Careful,” Alex said, “your eyes are bleeding red.”

“B-7.” Bradley kept calling numbers and the catcalls died down. “I-22.” He didn’t sound particularly worried.

“He actually seems fine, Mallory,” Wembley said. He and Alex had crowded around me to keep my glowing red eyes—what Alex called bleeding red—from notice. Not that anyone was looking in this direction, because they were all eyeballing Bradley. Wembley snorted. “And he’s not about to take his kilt off.”

“I’m glad you’re getting a kick out of this.” I jabbed Wembley in the gut with my elbow. “Ow.” Except there was no gut. He used to be all squishy.

“Been working out more. Have to keep my lady happy.” Wembley grinned with way too much enthusiasm.

Bradley called another number, rescuing my thoughts from the disgusting gutter they’d fallen into. My mom and Wembley… Nope. Bradley. We were here for Bradley. “Poor guy. He doesn’t even go to the pool.”

“Right, because of the germs and shared bodily fluids. I don’t think he’s bothered by people seeing him half-naked,” Alex said, looking over his shoulder. He winced.

“What? What happened? Are my eyes normal now?”

Bradley’s voice came across the loudspeaker. He might have been discussing the weather for all the excitement or stress I didn’t hear in his voice. “Another reminder for those who’ve forgotten, the rules of naked bingo are as follows. One, no full nudity allowed, mine or yours.” A pause, then, “Sheila.”

I scanned the crowd and saw a completely unrepentant redhead buttoning the top buttons of her blouse. Sheila, most likely.

Before I could fully digest Sheila’s improbable fire-engine-red hair or her attempts at full participation in Naked Bingo Night, Bradley continued, “Two, no touching.” A pause, then, “Maxine.”

His assistant took a discreet step back and Bradley continued, still in the same even tone, “Three, all tips benefit the Big Band Christmas Festival fund. Thank you, Mrs. Tilson. Four—”

“Your eyes are back to normal,” Alex said, his lips twitching.

I glared at him, then looked up at the stage. Bradley was reading off a note card. “He really doesn’t care that all these women are staring at him?”

Alex shrugged. “What do you think?

I pursed my lips. “I think Bradley doesn’t look half bad in a kilt.” I hated to admit it, but it was true.

A look of exasperation crossed Alex’s face then he left to find us a seat in the back.

Wembley and I followed behind until I saw a woman gesturing for us to join her. She booted her neighbors down a few seats and pointed at the now available chairs.

“Boys, you might have an admirer.” I couldn’t blame her. Alex was all sorts of tall, dark, and handsome, plus he had that glamor thing that made women practically pant after him. Women saw what they wanted to see when it came to Alex. And they apparently wanted to see all different varieties of hot and bangable. Sure, he actually was hot and bangable, but the slightly scruffy, rumpled version I got—the real version, apparently—wasn’t the one that everyone else saw.

“I’m taken,” Wembley said, giving me a cheery look.

Did he have to remind me every two seconds that he was getting busy with my mother? Ick. I didn’t need that image in my head. I liked to think, in a generic sense, that my mom had a fulfilling s*x life, but I never, ever, ever wanted to know the details. I shuddered and looked at Alex.

“Don’t look at me. I have interest elsewhere.” Alex didn’t meet my eye, and I refused to consider who that “interest” was.

Not the witch that had sabotaged my brakes. Alex wouldn’t tolerate that nonsense.

Mandy, the cute girl behind the counter at Bits, Baubles, and Toadstools, seemed awfully young for him, but she was cute and a really sweet kid. Then again, how young was she? It was always hard to say when dealing with the enhanced crowd. Nah. Alex wouldn’t date an employee…I didn’t think.

Maybe one of the ladies that he met at the Divorced Divas meeting we’d both accidentally attended. They’d swarmed him and practically shoved their phone numbers into his pants pockets. Or just into his pants.

But I wasn’t going to give it any thought. None of my business.

We reached the woman who’d motioned for us to join her, and when I took a closer look, she made me smile. She was one of those people who exuded warmth. Tall, with a heart-shaped face and bright blue eyes that hadn’t seemed to fade with age, she was certainly pretty, but it was more her welcoming smile that created the warm feeling. Her hair was a cute, short cut full of layers, and it was a gorgeous silvery white. She had to dye it, surely. No one grayed that well.

“You must be Bradley’s friends. He said you’d be right in.” She looked up at the stage. “He’s a natural, isn’t he?”

My eyes about popped out of my head. Bradley? A natural for Naked Bingo Night numbers calling? Sure…in an alternate universe.

“I’m Dorothy, but my friends call me Dot.” She gave each of us a warm smile as we introduced ourselves but didn’t offer to shake hands. Seeing my expression, she leaned closer. “I know what you’re thinking, dear, but he’s perfect. He keeps all the overzealous gropers at bay with barely any effort at all. I had a young male model come once, and he just couldn’t hack it.”

“Wait, has Bradley done this for you before?” I asked, trying not to sound perplexed, appalled, judgmental…yeah, I was having a hard time with this one.

She clapped her hands together and grinned. “Absolutely. It’s part of my standard payment. He gives us a nice new shirtless costume each time. We don’t actually have naked men. The rec center turns a blind eye to the removal of shirts but nothing else. They’re a little prudish.”

I nodded, but mostly because I hadn’t a clue what to say.

“The name’s catchy, though, isn’t it?” she asked. “And accurate. We don’t claim full nudity, and the men are all partially naked.”

Wembley nodded enthusiastically. “It is catchy. Quite clever.”

The full force of Dot’s attention swiveled to Wembley. “You would make an excellent Norseman. I don’t suppose you’d consider a trade? I’d be happy to do a little security work in exchange for a Viking appearance.”

She blinked up at him, waiting for his response.

Wembley took it in stride, giving her a flirtatious grin. “If the little woman wouldn’t castrate me, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

All the breath in my lungs fled.

So many things wrong with that comment. So many.

Dot patted me on the back. “Are you okay, dear? Perhaps you can fetch her some water.” She looked at Alex.

I lifted a finger and then pulled a bottle from my oversized purse and took a few sips. I’d been trying to stay better hydrated and fed, after I discovered that thirsty, hungry me was more likely to have fangs popping out willy-nilly.

But I didn’t really need a drink of water. I needed to not hear about my very proper mother castrating my roommate for perceived s****l indiscretions. I also needed to not hear my roommate refer to my relatively forward-thinking mother as the little woman. I narrowed my eyes and gave Wembley a piercing look.

“All better?” Dot asked. When I nodded, she said, “Excellent. Bradley is just about to finish up. He only has to do three sets for me. I have another gentleman coming for the remainder. A fireman.” And she winked at me.

It was like a strip club, with different acts and everything.

“But this is a retirement community.” Oops, I had indeed said that aloud.

Thankfully, Dot didn’t look too put out. She patted me on the back again and said, “We’re old, not dead, dear.”

I nodded, hoping she’d overlook the slight. This was a lady who did slightly shady computer work for Bradley. Common sense said it was best not to piss her off. Visions of having my identity stolen—or worse, being outed as a vampire—flashed through my head. I knew of a few people, not particular fans of mine, who might spin a reveal scandal like that as an opportunity to disappear me.

A huge cheer went up, and when I looked at the stage, I saw Bradley excuse himself. Contrary to all expectations, Bradley was a Naked Bingo Night crowd pleaser.

“This way.” Dot gestured to the exit. “He’ll meet us in the lobby. If he doesn’t leave by the side exit, he’ll get mobbed by overexuberant residents.”

Now that I knew would ruffle Bradley’s feathers.

Once in the lobby, we were joined by an older gentleman who appeared to be a resident.

“This is Alfred Snodgrass,” Dot said. “He wanted to be here when I passed along the information to Bradley.”

“Did he.” Alex didn’t introduce himself. He and Wembley both eyed the man suspiciously.

Odd, since he looked like a retired librarian. No, not a librarian. He reminded me of Mr. Rogers, just as tall, just as pleasant, and equally enamored of cardigans.

“I’m retired,” Alfred said, then, after a small hesitation, added, “Mostly.”

With an annoyed glance at my rude companions, I hunted for a neutral topic. “What did you do before you retired, Mr. Snodgrass?”

“Alfred’s a witch, dear,” Dot said with a cheery smile.

Unless I was gravely mistaken, some very separate worlds had just collided. Bradley’s freelancing hacker was a civilian. As in mundane, not magical, not in on the big secret.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” Because I couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly.

“I said witch. Alfred is a witch.”