But Johnna and Cleo. They would have to be dealt with. They were extremely nosey. And what about the boys? She didn’t know if she could trust them yet, but she was beginning to feel a sort of connection with them. She would figure something out. She had to know what was down that hallway and what Theophilus was up to.
Chapter Six
Blackbirds and Butterflies
Isabella’s grandmother had decent taste, but the fact that there was a big bow on the front of Isabella’s party dress was no testament to that.
Isabella arrived at Betty’s Basement, a replica of Brightwood Studios’ commissary of the 1930s and ‘40s, and found a table in the back corner. She’d asked the boys to eat with her so she could ditch tea hour with Miss Johnna Johnson and feel the boys out a bit more, to see if they could be trusted with her plan to investigate the secret passage she’d stumbled upon. She was fifty-seven percent sure that they couldn’t, but she could be artful at blackmail.
She picked up the ice water a waiter named Holden had brought out a second ago and saw a shadow dart across the wall from the corner of her eye. Her heart jumped. When she turned her head, she found Seth and Micah looming over her. ”Did you just see that?”
“See what?” asked Seth as his brother sat down across from Isabella.
“Never mind.” It was probably just one of the boys’ shadows. But she could have sworn it was something else. It looked like a person, but it wasn’t. She chose to wipe it from her mind. She refocused her attention on the boys as Seth took a seat next to Micah. ”You two look almost normal,” she remarked, eyeing their outfits.
“What’s up?” asked Seth, distracted, his eyes pinned on an attractive waitress serving a nearby table.
“She said we look funny,” Micah echoed.
“I said you look almost normal.”
Seth arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I just can’t put my finger on it,” she said, fully knowing what it was.
Seth shrugged. Micah looked perplexed.
After a moment of teasing her lip with her teeth in mock-contemplation, Isabella announced, “That’s it! You don’t match!” She folded her arms triumphantly.
Gray slacks on Seth and khakis on Micah. Seth smoothed a hand down the arm of his dark sweater, and Micah picked at the edge of his light-blue, oversize one. The clothes made Seth look older and Micah younger. That was probably because Micah’s were a little too big for him, and Seth’s fit him just right.
“Har-har,” Seth replied, looking over the menu.
“The Foxtail Taco looks great!” Micah said.
“Yeah, delicious,” said Seth, twisting his mouth like he might gag. “Don’t they have burgers here or something? Yep. Burgers and pie and chow mein and soup.”
“And tacos,” said Micah. “This is L.A. We should try a taco.”
“Betty’s corn and crab chowder is my favorite, but she’s not in town to make it herself. No one makes it like her. The burgers are awesome. But he’s right. It’s L.A. Nearly every place makes tacos.”
“And are they all good?”
“Sure they are,” she lied.
Seth looked over the taco menu and then stuffed it into the menu cubby at the end of the table. “I’ll go with the ground beef hard shell. Thanks.”
Isabella laughed.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” she said. He was so by the book. If Seth didn’t like tacos before, he was about to fall in love. Heat rushed up her neck at the thought of those words, and she took a sip of water.
Twenty minutes later, they were halfway through their meals and enjoying every flavorful bite as they played with a few gadgets that Micah revealed he had created himself.
Holding a metallic spherical object in her hand, Isabella spun the gear as fast as she could. A gentle pulse of light shone as the sphere began to rotate at a high speed.
“You are good at this!” Micah exclaimed.
“So are you,” Isabella said, impressed. She liked Micah. He was much nicer than his brother. Maybe she would ask him to go with her rather than Seth.
“Have you ever tried to work a cypher?” asked Micah.
“A cypher?”
“You know, like, a cryptogram?”
“Oh, you mean like decoder rings and stuff like that? I used to play around with them when I was younger.”
“They’re kind of like that, but different. Right, Seth?”
“Uh-huh, whatever. This sauce is super-good.” Seth wiped the corner of his mouth. “I think I found my new home. I admit it when I’m wrong.” He waved his hand for Holden the waiter, so he could place a third order.
“Well, this kinda is your new home now. You’re ordering more? You haven’t even finished—”
He grinned at her, his mouth still full of food. He was mildly attractive. What? No, he wasn't. Micah burped, returning her to reality.
She checked her phone for the time. Great. The ballroom portion of Johnna’s party was starting in seventeen minutes. She had to decide if she wanted them to come with her. She barely even knew them. How could she trust them? But she was admittedly a little scared to go back on her own.
Curiosity gripped her tightly, nearly as much as her need for the whole thing to be nothing, so she could get on with her holiday in peace. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Not with Theophilus giving her strange necklaces and disappearing into walls. She needed allies.
“Damn it, Lana, why aren’t you here?”
The boys looked at her strangely. “Uh, my name’s Seth.”
“Very funny.” Isabella sighed. ”So, you guys, I wanted to ask you…” She fiddled with her napkin, looking at the picture on the wall beside them then down at her half-empty plate.
“That sorta comment is usually followed by, you know—a question,” Seth said.
“Right. Well, I was wondering if you two would come with me somewhere.”
“We already said we’re going to the party. Why do you think we are dressed like a couple of freaks?” Seth asked.
“I think she’s talking about something else,” said Micah.
Isabella sighed and explained what she’d seen when she went to retrieve her journal. “I don’t know why I am trusting you guys, but I have to know what’s down there, and I don’t want to go by myself.”
“What do you think Theophilus is up to?” asked Micah.
Isabella shrugged, dipping a tortilla chip into some salsa. She had an inkling, but she still didn't want to share it. Not until she had hard evidence. “He could be doing anything.”
“Do you think your grandmother knows?” asked Micah.
“I doubt it. She is usually too concerned with outward appearances. The things that lie beneath have never been much of her thing. So what do you guys think? Are you in?”
“I’m not sure,” said Seth.
“What? Why not?”
“It seems kind of dangerous,” said Seth. “I mean, what do we really know about this Theophilus guy, anyway?” Seth opened his mouth to say something more when—
“Wokk-erre Wokk-erre Wokk-erre!”
Startled, they turned to find Seth and Micah's mother and father standing side-by-side wearing black berets and big toothy grins.
“It’s Wokka Wokka Wokka, Dad,” said Micah. “That character is not French, and no one watches the Muppets anymore!”
“Except the people whose parents force them to,” mumbled Seth.
“I like the Muppets,” said Isabella, thinking he had no idea how lucky he was to have parents forcing him to do things.
Gerard Logan shrugged and snapped a photo of the kids. His wife, Mariah, looked on, hands clasped, blinking tears from the corners of her eyes. “They are so grown up.”
“It’s not the prom, Mom,” said Seth.
“I ‘ave missed this place,” said Gerard, a tall man with the thin moustache. “Mariah and I ‘aven’t been here since before you boys were born.” Seth rolled his eyes. “You know, I worked
‘ere when I first moved to America. An uncle of sorts got me a job in the kitchen alongside Betty.”
“Your uncle?” asked Isabella.
“Not quite, but ‘e was very close to my mother. I believe ‘e is a good friend of your family as well. ’e is a patron of zee Foxworthy as well. Robert Heel. We are staying in ‘ese old rooms now. It is where I lived when I first came here. He has since moved back to his estate across town. This time we pay, I am afraid. I am no longer a boy, you see.”
“So he's not your real uncle then?”
“Not quite. I grew up in France with my mother. She met my father here and, well, I never knew the man, but Mr. Heel has always been very kind. Much more like a father than my own.”
“Ah,” said Isabella, smiling a bit. For some reason that made her feel a lot better. “Well, it’s none of my business,” said Isabella. Though she felt better, she did want to know more. Her Uncle Robert had so many secrets she didn’t know about. Everyone seemed to, these days.
“Don’t we have to get to the party?” Seth asked. He seemed tired of his parents.
So off they went after the older Logans disappeared. As they rode the elevator up to the rooftop and the Velvet Ballroom, Isabella fidgeted with the bow on the front of her dress. What was she, a Christmas present? Why was it so big?
The boys were looking at her like she’d grown a third eye. Weren’t boys supposed to compliment you on your looks? Not these guys. Being teenage boys, what could she expect?
***
They entered the Velvet Ballroom. Johnna had chosen an odd theme. Shimmering in hanging letters in the center of the room: Welcome, Little Black Birds and Fireflies. Your Queen is 15. Of course, the band Black Birds and Fireflies were the most popular group this year. Johnna wasn’t the one being original. It was the musicians and their somewhat intriguing choice for a band name.
“Whoa. Look at all the hot candy in here,” said Seth from his place beside a twinkling miniature lamppost. A faux black bird sat on top of it. It looked down at them as if it was judging them. Isabella looked away.
“What did you say?” Isabella did not like the expression on Seth’s face.
“He’s just hungry for some lovin’,” said Micah.
“Shut up, dude.”
Of course, the boys did not give her a second glance. She wasn’t in skin-tight sequins with her dress halfway up her thighs. She was also missing a few other important attributes. She looked down at herself and sighed. She looked like a little girl.
But Johnna Johnson, on the other hand, looked like she’d been strutting down the runway her whole life. And Cleo. Well, at least her dress wasn’t exactly skin-tight, but it was short enough. Though the silver-and-black ensemble rang of style and taste more than trash and flare, she still looked so mature. The last time she went to a formal affair with Cleo, the both of them were wearing fluffy, pink dresses, and Cleo was spilling out of hers in all the wrong places. But that was not the case tonight.
“Izzy!” Johnna waved her hand, gesturing for Isabella to join her group. ”Why weren’t you at my tea?”
“I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Well, you look fine now. Who are your friends?”
“Seth and Micah Logan. Johnna Johnson, Cleo Antonelli, Elizabeth Rudolph, and Hannah Li.”
“Hi.” They all managed to chime this in harmony. Isabella inwardly groaned.
“Will you dance with me, Seth? It is my birthday.”
Seth nodded with a shrug.
“Seth, don’t forget about later,” Isabella said, her cheeks warming.
“I already told you that I think it’s a bad idea,” he groaned, then was dragged off by Johnna.
“What’s a bad idea?” Cleo asked. Cleo, despite her friendship with the likes of Johnna, was very sharp and always wanted to know what was going on.
“Nothin’,” Micah spoke up for Isabella, which she really appreciated.
“Yeah. It’s just rehearsal stuff,” Isabella supplied.
“Oh,” Cleo said, looking bored.
“I like your dress,” Micah mumbled. Only Isabella heard. Not Cleo, whom he was obviously addressing, as his eyes were plastered on her cleavage.
Cleo turned to him. “Did you say something?”
“Me? No.” Micah turned partly peuce.
“I’m gonna go get some more punch. Wanna come with?” Cleo asked the other girls and looked to Isabella, too, ignoring the small, thin Micah, who looked even smaller than he normally did next to his taller athletic brother.
But he was a nice person. Seth was an idiot. So argumentative. Why wouldn’t he come with her to see what Theophilus was up to? Why didn’t he care?
“Wanna dance?” Micah asked, clearing his throat. Isabella assumed he was talking to Cleo, but Cleo had gone, and he was looking at her.
“I don’t really like dancing, but I do want to check out that secret passage. You in?”
Seth was now surrounded by a pack of girls, grinning and eating up every minute of it. Sure, he had dimples. Sure, his hair was dark and feathery. But that had nothing to do with anything important. Girls could be so dumb.
“One hundred and fifty percent.”
“Awesome. Let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Ante Up
Isabella left the party without wanting to think any more about that ridiculous Seth or the ridiculous people likely still fawning over each other on the rooftop level with Johnna. With Micah, she slipped through the hotel, down into the theater, and past the wall, like she had earlier that day. Enveloped in darkness, Micah clutched her hand.
“This is fun,” he said, though the thinness of his voice and the sting from his hand suggested he thought otherwise.
“Just wait, okay?” She inched forward and the lights in the faux candleholders clicked on. “See!” She took another step and then looked back at Micah. “You can let go now.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
They tip-toed forward. “He went into a door really far down the hall on the right.” As she walked, the sense of calm she’d felt before returned. Her skittish steps turned to full strides. “Come on, Micah!” He fumbled along behind her. Her feet flew down the hall.
“Why are you running?” His voice echoed far behind her, but she couldn’t stop. That is, until she reached a rectangular indentation in the wall. A door. But no handle. Micah caught up to her.
“Look.” She placed her hand on the wall and pushed. Nothing happened. “I’m sure this is it.” She pushed again.
“Did you see that?”
“What are you talking about?” She rammed the door with her shoulder. “OW!”
“That. It looks familiar.” Micah slid beside Isabella. She stepped away sharply.
“Personal space.”
Micah dipped his finger into some grooves on the wall. Isabella squinted, trying to make out what he was seeing. It looked so familiar.
“The symbol!”
BOOM! Isabella and Micah were thrust back from the wall. Micah crumbled to the ground, and Isabella found herself tumbling down a set of steps. She landed in a collection of musty cardboard boxes.
“Damn it! My shoulder!” She tried standing but stumbled back into some shelving. A cold metal something fell on top of her head and onto the floor. “D.M.L.” She crouched down and squinted. A key. She scooped it up and shoved it into her pocket.
“D.M.L?” she heard Micah call from the top of the steps. “What’s that mean?”
“Damn. My. Life. Lana says it a lot.” She gritted out each word. Rubbing her shoulder, she stood up. “Thunder cookies.” To her left, she spied another door—tall and arched without adornment. An old rusty knob begged to be turned. “Get down here, Micah!”
Footsteps lumbered down the staircase. “Sorry,” he said, panting. “Thunder cookies?” He clutched his chest, still out of breath.
“There are like ten stairs.”
“Sorry, I’m a dork. I’ll go get Seth, since you seem to prefer jocks
.”
“Whatever. Look.” She leaned forward, and he followed her eyes with his.
“Uhh, maybe we should go back upstairs. Aren't you hurt?”
Isabella ignored him and turned the knob. Of course, it didn’t open. Duh. The key, stupid. She extracted it from her pocket and maneuvered it into the grooves of the keyhole. Left. Nope.
“Where’d you get that?”
Right. Click. “Yes!” They were met with another door. Isabella placed her hand on it. It opened instantly at her touch, to her surprise. It must have had a heat sensor or something. But it was so old...
“This place is giving me the creeps,” said Micah. “Seriously.”
This time, Isabella grabbed Micah’s hand. Yank. They stepped in, side by side. A flood of lights shone through the room and spilled out of the open door.
“Thunder cookies,” said Micah as his jaw dropped.
Before their eyes sat a replica of a Victorian library. On the back and left walls, shelves upon shelves of books jutted from floor to ceiling. Sofas that looked like they’d been pulled from the Velvet Ballroom sat, three in the center, forming a U, while two were along the right wall with a lowboy between them. Maps. Blueprints of the city hung on the wall in front of them: views of below and above ground, including tunnels and places she’d never seen before. Plans for an underground city that never came to pass, it looked like. They hung, yellowing and cracked. There was an old globe and a poker table. And a wine cabinet with wine still in it.
“This is crazy. What is all this stuff?” Isabella spun the globe next to her, causing dust to fly everywhere, which sent both of them into fits of coughing. “Yuck.” She blinked her eyes a couple of times and saw that Micah had helped himself to a seat on one of the sofas. She, on the other hand, was too curious to take a rest and began nosing around. First, she went over to the papers on the wall. “I was right! Kinda. It looks like there are roads that lead to like tunnels or something. Three levels. No—four. Sky-side,” she said, reading the loopy script that labeled each level of the elaborate system.
“That’s where the hotel is,” he said, moving to join her.
The Lost Heir Page 6
