Nicole gaped at him. Was she really that oblivious, or were they actively teaming to keep things from her? “Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?” She glared at each monster in turn. Hawthorne had better count his lucky stars he wasn’t in the room, or else she would have glared a hole right though his head. Poisoned grass? Seriously? “Your car is leaking oil, and Drake keeps scratching up the woodwork with his claws,” Atticus recited tonelessly. “The fae broke an antique vase in the living room, and Jasper and I re-homed the squirrels to the shed out back.” Nicole stared.
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