Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5) Read Free Page A

really drew me to the listing. “How about one last look at the basement and root cellar? Just to make sure they were cleaned thoroughly.”
    “Oh yes, right this way.” She leads me to a small bathroom on the first floor. “I know it seems odd, but I kind of like that the entrance is through a hidden door in here. Very different.”
    I try and hide my smile. This dark hideaway is exactly why I bought the place. It’s probably a remnant from a paranoid German who moved to Argentina after the Holocaust. Lots of German nationalists who supported Hitler fled to Argentina to avoid persecution after the war ended. They may have easily adapted to creating their own hidey-holes, like the ones used to hide Jews when the Nazis had a stranglehold on Germany.  
    The doorway is tight, I literally have to turn sideways to enter, but after that, the stairwell opens up and I’m able to descend normally. The stairs are illuminated by a single bare bulb, indicating the lower floor has electricity. There’s no trace of the damp, musty smell we noticed last week. It’s been replaced by the scent of astringent cleaners. A low hum from a dehumidifier and air purifier sound below us.
    We reach the bottom of the stairs, revealing the room’s about half the size of the main floor. Empty shelves line the walls, devoid of the household detritus stored there previously.  
    Exposed beams in the ceiling and the underside of floorboards from the rooms above loom over us, leaving maybe seven feet of headroom. I plan on installing insulation and dry wall this afternoon after the closing. Tomorrow I’ll be painting and building pre-made furniture down here. The floor isn’t dirt, like I’d initially feared, but a serviceable ceramic tile—newer by the looks of it. Nothing a nice area rug won’t warm up. This is where I plan to make us a hidden bedroom. It won’t be glamorous, but it will be safe.
    A small wooden door, slightly bigger than a large kitchen cabinet, sits in the center of the far wall, leading toward the back of the house.  
    “Do you mind if I check the root cellar, too?” I ask.
    “Not at all, allow me.” She moves to the door and lifts the latch, then swings it inward and retreats to grant me a better view.  
    I step forward and stick my head inside. It’s very dark, only the light from the basement slipping past to illuminate a few rickety, empty shelves made of rough wood. But it smells like they cleaned in here, too.
    “Here,” she says, clicking on a flashlight and handing it to me. “I always have one in my purse just in case an attic or basement is unlit.”
    I scan the interior once more, noting the very low ceiling and an old ladder about eight feet away. “Where does this lead?”
    “Before the basement was hand-dug to allow more space, the area was used for food storage. Outside access to the garden, via that ladder, was the only way in, until the tiny staircase was built in the bathroom closet. If I’m recalling right, the ladder leads to a ground-level storm door behind the garden.”
    Perfect. “Looks good. I’m ready to finalize the sale.”
    “Great. Let’s go sign the paperwork. You’ll have the keys before you know it.”
    We spend the next hour in a nearby attorney’s office, hashing out the details and then I ask to see another property I’ve singled out as a possibility. It lies on the other end of town, bordering a more isolated section of woods. Just in case Jon needs space to run as a wolf, I thought it prudent to acquire a spot with land.
    “Oh, you’re interested in more than one location?”
    I smile, knowing we’ll probably make her month with two sales in one week. “Yes, we are. The next one doesn’t need to be habitable right away. We’d like it for the property.”
    She returns my smile, “Well, let’s get started.” She packs her portable document scanner   into her briefcase, finished with emailing the signed documents to the seller’s agent. “We can swing by