Chapter 381: Definitely Not A Cookie
The moment the door swung open, I leaned around Tank’s side with high expectations. I was ready for anything, my entire body vibrating with happiness.
Maybe it was an apology basket from the house for kicking me out of my own bed.
A hot UPS man offering to grant me three wishes and brought cookies. Or, at the very least, a Girl Scout with cookies. Something fun... and cookie...ish.
Apparently, I was fixated on cookies, and I blamed Daddy for even putting the thought in my head.
But instead of someone standing there, looking for me or looking to give me something, the porch was empty.
No blood, no heads, no screaming survivors or surprise traitors. Just a plain cardboard box sitting perfectly centered on the welcome mat like it had every right to be there.
"...Well, that’s disappointing," I pouted. "No cookies for the Devil, I guess. Maybe the house could make me some. It would make up for the whole getting me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn."
"You woke up at 2:00," reminded Tank absently as he looked down at the box. At first, he was like me, but then something seemed to shift in him, and his whole body turned tense.
I had no idea what he felt or smelled, but whatever it was, it wasn’t setting off any alarm bells for me.
"Don’t touch it," said Tank sharply before sending out a piercing whistle.
I raised both hands, eyebrows arching. "I wasn’t going to," I assured him even as Dimitri came out of the kitchen. Stalking over to us, he looked between the box and me before picking me up and flinging me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.