“No. No one saw the murder except the sisters,” Ivy said, and before Shayde could ask, she added, “I am kinda freaked. Look, there’s something else. Something I need to talk to you about. And you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
Shayde’s expression grew tense. “Sure. You’ve got my word, you know that.”
“The books. Why would Nick want them?”
Shayde eyed her curiously. “The gardening book? Because... because he’s into gardening for Satan?” Shayde said, in a dry attempt at humor. “What’s this got to do—”
“I’m serious, here. The other two books. The Rise of the Dark Curse and the one that’s missing.”
They turned left at the stop sign. “Who says he wants them? Maybe he’s just curious. You were. Or, maybe they startled him a little, Ivy. After you changed Spike and he saw the books on the table, he probably started to wonder if you were getting into black magic.”
“But he said he knew about the missing book. That’s what we talked about over pizza. Nick said there were some witch and demon families who want the books.”
“But why would anyone want something so awful?” Shayde asked. “There has to be consequences for the spell caster who uses them, right?”
“I guess. Good question.”
Shayde laughed. “What would Nick even do with those books? I really don’t have him pegged as being into black magic. He’s mischievous, sure. But, black magic? I don’t think so.”
“He said loads of Kindred families want the books for the power they represent. He said his dad wanted the books. Maybe he wants to give them to him.”
“You know what bugs me? If you were into collecting rare books, why leave one and take the other?” Shayde asked.
Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t think of that.”
“If Nick or his dad knew the other book was in the cemetery, why not go there instead of the funeral home?” Shayde asked. “Why even leave the first one behind to start with? I’m telling you, it’s not Nick. It’s not his dad, either. If it were, Nick wouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
Ivy thought about the shadow that vanished behind the tree, how the burlap sack was in plain view, yet it hadn’t been there a few minutes before. It was as if someone put the sack there for them to find. “Did you see anyone else out there that day in the cemetery? Besides us an Spike?”
Shayde shook her head. “No. Why?”
“I thought I saw someone else out there. But, it was like they were there and then they weren’t. I only caught a glimpse.”
Shayde frowned. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“I was serious when I said more than one person is involved here. Someone buried the books, someone else found them. And, maybe there’s a third, someone who wanted us to find the books left behind. The books were lying neatly on top of the burlap sack. Which meant that they were put there on purpose,” Ivy said.
“But who knew we’d be there? Raven said that very few people visit that section of the cemetery. But, okay, let’s go with your theory. If someone was there, they’d have seen us. So why not just hand them over? Why leave them for us to find?”
Ivy shook her head. She’d asked herself the same question.
“And what would they expect us to do with them? You’re the only one who can cast spells,” Shayde said. “If they wanted us to give them to someone else then why didn’t they leave a note? If found please return to whoever.”
“So it was someone who followed us there. Someone who was watching,” Ivy said.
Shayde shook her head. “I don’t know Ivy. Sounds weird. What does your mom say about all this?” She glanced at Ivy. “You didn’t give her the books, did you? Oh, geez!”
“No. How could I? Everyone will think it’s me, Shayde. It’ll tear Mom apart. I’ve got to figure out who really has the book. Nick knows more than he’s saying. He’s offered to help, although I’m not sure if it’s some trick to get me to give him the other book or not. But, it’s all I’ve got. I’ll have to play along.”
“Okay. Your funeral.” Shayde let out a long sigh. “But, about Nick. Does this mean you two are going out again?”
They crossed the street, Shayde grinning widely. “Everyone will forget about you and Spike in no time if you’re dating Nick!”
“I’m not dating Nick. We went out once. I wanted information from him,” Ivy said.
“I believe him. I still don’t think he’s after just the book. He might really be trying to help you because he likes you. Ever hear of that? You know, a crush?”
Devlin tugged on his leash as they entered the park. It was empty, just like most early Sunday mornings when the weather turned cold. A few Pigeon doves took flight from their spot on a nearby bench, finally settling back down atop the swing set.
“Maybe he’s just saying he knows about the books. You turned him down. Twice.”
“He knows I like Dean.”
Shayde let out a small laugh. “A lot of people know you have a thing for Dean. So, maybe Nick figures if he pretends to know about these books you’re so interested in, you’ll go out with him. He’s probably hoping that by the time you realize he’s been faking it, you’ll like him instead. Nick’s got that demon determination thing down cold.”
“That’s not it,” Ivy said, bending down to unleash Devlin. “Behave,” she warned.
Devlin took off across the park, scouting for squirrels. Ivy watched as Devlin watered several bushes and circled a tree that a squirrel scurried up. “He said that the third book brings back people, Shayde. It has curses that bring back really bad, dead people.”
“Yeah, right. And Bane’s entering the Westminster dog show. See? He’s playing you. You can’t bring back the dead. Well, there’s vampires and the whole zombie thing, but, well, you know what I mean.”
Ivy ignored the comment. “The missing book is called The Book of Lost Souls. It brings back famous dead people. Like Vlad the Impaler and some woman Vlad called Elizabeth. Maybe some Countess.”
Shayde stared in disbelief. “He couldn’t possibly know that.”
“He would if his dad told him all about it,” Ivy said.
“Vlad the Impaler? Nick told you who attacked Mr. Nash? How would he know that?”
“He didn’t. I’m the one who told him it was probably Vlad based on the description Gloria Albert gave the police.”
Shayde sighed. “Wait. You’re the one who identified the attacker? Wow. I see your point. If anyone knows you have that book, you’re suspect number one. You knew who the conjured soul was.”
“Yeah. That’s why I need everyone’s help,” Ivy said.
Devlin barked loudly.
“Devlin!” Ivy shouted. “Leave Mrs. Quincy’s cat alone!” Devlin had Midnight trapped up a small oak and clinging to a branch. The slight breeze didn’t account for the violently shaking tree limb Midnight clung to. Of course, the culprit for the tree’s behavior stood directly underneath, grinning, tongue hanging out between canine teeth.
“Why does he always do that? Why her cat?” Shayde asked.
“He did it once with the neighbor’s guinea pig that got loose. Swallowed the thing whole. Hacked it up on the living room carpet and totally freaked us out. It was all wet and slimy, so we didn’t know what it was at first.”
“Ewww,” Shayde said.
“Yeah. It was really gross. It squealed and ran across the room and Mom smacked it with the broom mistaking it for some strange Beezlepup thing like a possessed hair ball or something. Wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“Yeech!” Shayde said.
Midnight let out a high-pitched me-owww. The tree limb shook harder as though trying to dislodge him. Devlin stood underneath, barking excitedly.
“Devlin!” Ivy called out in warning. “Midnight is not a squeaky toy!” She broke out into a run across the park. “Devlin!”
He shot her a fleeting look. Why did anything and everyone belonging to the demon species have to be so difficult?
“St
op that right now Devlin!” Ivy demanded. She picked up a fallen leaf and held it in front of her. It swirled and shifted, changing into a replica of a fuzzy grey squirrel. Ivy squeezed it, and the toy squeaked. Instantly, Devlin whirled around, running at her full tilt, Midnight completely forgotten.
“Midnight makes the same noise as a squeaky toy when Devlin catches him,” Ivy explained. “Ever since the guinea pig incident he’s had a thing for stuff that squeaks.”
Shayde watched Midnight hurry down the tree and take refuge under a bush. “Can’t say I haven’t been tempted to chase Midnight a few times myself. And the squeaky toy from a leaf thing? Cute. Nice to see you’re back to doing normal witchcraft. Anyway, what are you going to do? If Nick really is telling the truth...”
“The only thing I can do. Go on another date with him,” Ivy said with a sigh.
Shayde raised an eyebrow. “And if Nick’s on the level, why do you sound so gloomy about it? He’s really hot. Sorry, bad demon pun.”
“Because he’s not who I want,” Ivy replied, recalling Nick’s words from last night. “But right now, until I get some answers, he might be exactly who I need.”
The only problem was that Ivy wasn’t sure which question she wanted the answer to first—who had the third book, or why it bothered her that she kept thinking about Nick, and if he really liked her or just wanted the book.
CHAPTER 13
By the time Ivy returned to Forever View, it was just after eleven and she was in a dour mood. Since Bane hadn’t actually been part of the conspiracy to turn Spike into a human, he didn’t have to show up for the cemetery work, and since Gareth had lost the most—his pet—he didn’t have to, either. This left just the girls to work off another day of punishment.
Shayde’s interest in any development in her so-called relationship with Nick had started to get on Ivy’s nerves. She’d spent the last twenty minutes going on about Nick being so much better than Dean.
“If you have such a thing for Nick, why don’t you go out with him?” Ivy finally asked Shayde.
“Because I don’t have a thing for him. What I do have a thing for is seeing my best friend happy. He’s smart and cute. And he has a wicked crush on you.”
“Besides you, who says?” Ivy retorted. “I think Dean kinda likes me.”
“I’d give a bucket of Mr. Nash’s blood to see him dump Tara,” Raven said with a snort. “Of course, there’d have to be more than a bucket left. He’d pretty much bled-out before the medical examiner got there. Pity. We only got a couple of glasses each.”
Ivy grimaced. “I didn’t need to visualize that twice, thanks. Anyway, if Nick really liked me that much before the books, why’d he wait until after I’d found them to be so incessant? Okay, yeah. He asked me out twice. Ever since the books came into play, he’s not taking no for an answer. Usually, he’d be on to the next girl by now.”
Raven grinned. “Guys. It’s the testosterone. He can’t stand to see you with Dean, especially if he senses he’s got an edge. And that only makes it worse. Demons love a challenge.”
“And you’re certainly a challenge,” Shayde mumbled.
“I heard that,” Ivy said.
“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you won’t give him a chance because his father and yours were friends?” Shayde asked.
Ivy shot her friend a hard, that’s off limits, glare. Shayde shrugged and went back to pulling the last of the weeds from the area she was working on. Shayde was right, of course. It probably was a bit unfair. But whenever Nick was around, Ivy felt like a tangle of nerves. It was as though she was always aware of him and his every move. But, she had to admit that she was a bit hard on him. If she was going to use his help, she needed to give him a break.
Careful, she reminded herself. Don’t start thinking you really like him.
Ivy shook the thought from her head. After cleaning up a few last grave sites and loading up the golf cart, the girls found themselves staring at Mr. Laughton’s grave.
“Dad is coming up here later with Gareth to rebury the bone and fix the grave,” Raven said. “I wonder why someone picked this grave to bury the books in?”
Ivy shrugged. “Maybe they knew that no one visited this row of graves? Random choice?”
“Well, it was a good hiding place for a while,” Shayde said. “I still wonder who put them there and who dug them up.”
“Maybe there’s a newcomer we don’t know about yet,” Raven countered.
Shayde shook her head. “We always know about newcomers. If there’s one around, they’re on the down-low.”
“We’ve actually got a mystery in our pretty boring little town. Exciting, isn’t it?” Raven rubbed her hands together. “So! Who would you suspect? Who did Mr. Nash in?”
Ivy considered Raven’s question. She’d practically thought of little else. Problem was, most of the town was less than friendly with the Nash’s. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Mr. Nash had to have pushed the wrong Kindred too far. He’s always trying to cause trouble. He was just asking for something bad to happen sooner or later. I never thought someone would kill him, though.”
“I’m surprised no one has roughed him up before this,” Raven said.
“That’s because Mr. Nash knew that if a Kindred really did pound some sense into him, it’d upset a lot of Regulars,” Shayde replied.
“Has he denied any building permits lately, failed anyone on inspection, cited anyone for code infractions?” Ivy asked.
Shayde laughed. “That would be a really long list.”
Ivy agreed. But what other leads did she have? The thought haunted her all the way back to the funeral home and the entire drive back home.
All Ivy wanted to do when she walked through the front door was to take a warm shower. Hopefully, her bad mood would wash down the drain along with the dirt and sweat. She’d managed to make it up the stairs and halfway down the hall when the floor creaked and her mother called to her.
Mental note to self, Ivy thought. Remember to charm that particular floorboard. The last charm had apparently worn off already.
Pretending she hadn’t heard, Ivy headed straight for the bathroom. Her mother was just concerned, but Ivy had never felt less like talking.
Her mother tried to get her to talk about what was bothering her over dinner, and Ivy did her best to brush it off. When her mother suggested that she was probably just having boy trouble deciding between Dean and Nick, she let her mother think exactly that. With each bit of advice, Ivy nodded on cue and replied with the required thanks, Mom. She endured the last of the speech while they did the dishes.
“I’m going to read a little,” Ivy said, hanging the dishtowel up to dry.
Her mother smiled warmly, clearly happy to have done her motherly duty by giving her daughter something to think about.
Devlin followed Ivy up the stairs and into her room. Ivy shut the door and sifted through her dresser, retrieving a lavender sleep tee. After changing and tossing her clothes in the direction of the clothes hamper, she pulled the book bag out from under her bed.
Why had someone buried all three books? Who had left the bag and the remaining books there for them to find? And what did a gardening book have to do with The Book of Lost Souls?
She looked at The Rise of the Dark Curse. Her hand hovered over it for a second or two. Giving in to her curiosity, she picked the book up and a sudden surge of energy rushed through her like an electrical current.
From his spot on the end of the bed, Devlin whined.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Ivy assured him. She sat on the bed and rested the book on the covers. “Just a minute or two. Maybe it’ll give us a clue on who’s using the other book.”
Devlin whined again and lay down, paws over his snout.
Heart racing, Ivy gently flipped the book’s cover open. The tendrils of black mist twirled and danced as though rejoicing.
She’s back, little one is back!
Ivy paused and listened, but the
voices had grown silent. It was her imagination, nothing more. Although the tendrils of mist had died down, the immense cold that began to seep from the pages had not. Ivy flipped through a section of the book, the buzzing in her head, the adrenaline-sugary rush tingling inside her. It was both horrible and exhilarating.
The spells within the book bordered dark to down-right gruesome. She read one page after another, each spell more and more like a train wreck she couldn’t look away from. Each spell filled her mind, feeling oddly like they’d settled down for a long visit.
Devlin barked. He stood inches from her, snarling, teeth bared. A sudden rage flared through her and Ivy raised a hand, preparing to repel Devlin off the bed—and maybe into the wall—for his uncommon outburst of disloyalty.
Devlin lunged. Surprised at her beloved pup’s behavior, Ivy’s spell missed. She jerked back, out of the way of Devlin’s teeth. He clawed at the book, slamming it shut, yelping in pain as one of the tendrils of mist touched his paw. He scurried to the edge of the bed, ears and tail tucked in fear, paw still lifted in pain. But, he was still snarling at the book.
It was the book he’d been after. Not her. He’d wanted her to stop reading it.
Ivy couldn’t believe that she’d almost struck Devlin. She’d never do such a thing. But, something had come over her while reading the book. She scooped Devlin into her arms. “I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over. Devlin licked her face in accepted apology, but his eyes darted back to the book.
“Yeah. You’re right.” Ivy retrieved her book bag, and using the covers as a barrier, slid the book back into the bag. She exchanged it for A Botany of Spells—Magic for the Garden. She zipped the bag shut and pushed it back under the bed.
She examined Devlin’s paw, which looked okay. He tentatively set it back down on the bed, applying a bit of weight to it. The book was far too dangerous. She had to get rid of it soon. Ivy glanced at the alarm clock. She’d been going through the book for over half an hour. The longer she’d spent with it, the more engrossed she’d become and more it had affected her. Devlin had seen that and tried to protect her from it. But, it had affected him, too. Beezlepups were very in tune to their owners, and Devlin was feeding off her energy.
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