"Kerry, you actually made it."
Ada's voice, I'm telling you, it was as if someone had drizzled melted chocolate over velvet and then hit play. She might have whispered pure gibberish, and I still would have been to the ground with shivers. I could swear the whole time I was feeling her every word going through my ribs, little shivers all along my spine. Like, alright, totally over the top.
I hadn't even flipped my head yet, and bam, already, fire was climbing up my neck and settling down low. Then Ada's eyes, sharp as barbed wire, scrolled around Kerry and fixed directly on me.
For a moment only, she looked at me as if she was going to attack. It was hotter than walking barefoot on a burnt August pavement. My heart did some odd tap dance—I'm pretty sure it faltered.
But then, curtain down. Showtime smile. Sweet, maybe a little smug. Yeah, she knew.
"And Dexter," she said, my name sounded like a dare. "Come on in."
I obeyed.
