The moment I finish speaking, LJ stands so fast the frying pan goes flying behind her like a helicopter blade.
“OH, HELL NO,” she declares, “We are LEAVING. PACKING. MOVING. RELOCATING. TRANSFERRING. UPROOTING. EVACUATING. PICK A VERB, BUT WE ARE DOING IT.”
Claire jumps. Carter hides his face in my neck again. I rub his back, never taking my eyes off the hallway. LJ continues pacing like a caffeinated squirrel.
“I don’t care where we go— hotel, bunker, Taco Bell— BUT WE ARE NOT STAYING IN A SHADOW-INFESTED APARTMENT.” She spins on me, pointing dramatically. “Draven, I swear to the gods, if you say ANYTHING other than ‘Pack your s**t,’ I will taze you with kitchen appliances.”
I blink at her. “…you don’t have a taser.”
“I HAVE A WOK!” she screams.
Fair point.
Claire finally finds he
