The sound came closer.
Samantha and Jordan were holding on to each other, but Rachel had picked up a folding chair, ready to swing it. I admired Rachel's spunk. I was preparing to use my power of telekinesis when Bianca came into view.
We all breathed sighs of relief.
"Is everything all right?" she said.
"We ... You startled us, that's all," I said.
"Mrs. Wilder has asked that I close up for the day," Bianca continued. "Wilder's will be closed to the public tonight. A ... private event."
It was clear that they wanted us out of their hair, so we packed up and called it a night.
The rest of the week passed without incident, except for a pop quiz in calculus on Wednesday, which I was prepared for. Sam caught up with me after my last class. Sean and Ryan had lockers right next to ours.
"Do you need a ride home?" Sam asked. "I'm taking Katie shopping after school." Katie was Sean's sister. Samantha spent nearly as much time with Sean's family as she did with Sean. I think she was lonely sometimes. Even though Mrs. Devereaux wasn't the greatest mom in the world, I knew Sam missed her. She'd moved to San Francisco after the divorce and rarely visited.
"Ryan is coming over, so I'm set, thanks." My father had a job interview at some college a couple of hours away. It was a non-tenured position and the salary was a lot less than he used to make, but he was excited about the interview. He had a friend on the faculty there and would be out of the house until late.
I glanced over at my boyfriend, who had an expression that told me he'd completely forgotten our plans.
"Daisy, I have an appointment with Ms. Tray after school today," he confessed.
I tried not to let my feelings show. Ryan hated disappointing me and I didn't want to make him feel any worse than he obviously did.
"It's okay," I said. "I'll get a ride home with Sam. Maybe you can come over later?"
"I'd love to," he said. "But I don't know how late I'll be."
"Come over whenever," I said. "After his interview, Dad's having dinner out."
"What's the matter, Ryan?" Sean teased. "Scared of the old man?"
"Cut it out, Sean," he replied. "I'm not scared. Just cautious." When I laid a hand on his arm, he gave me a look meant to reassure me. But it didn't.
I caught a ride home with Samantha.
"How are plans for Merriweather House coming along?" I asked.
"I may have bitten off more than I can chew," Samantha admitted. "I might need more of your help than I first thought."
"Of course!" Samantha didn't admit to needing help very often. Usually, she commandeered volunteers and made it look like she was doing them a favor.
When I got home, I made a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies and slid them in the oven, then sat at the kitchen counter, waiting for Ryan to show. When he came to the door, I was pleased to see that he wasn't that late. He stood on my front porch and I had to restrain myself from touching the curls at the nape of his neck.
We went to the kitchen and I offered him a freshly baked cookie. He took one and ate it absent-mindedly.
"I had the best meeting with the new counselor," Ryan said. We had the house to ourselves, but he didn't have romance on his mind. He was all amped up after his meeting.
"She said that I should apply to a couple of out-of-state schools." My normally laid-back boyfriend was practically bouncing in his chair with excitement.
"Out-of-state?" I was careful to keep the alarm I felt from my voice.
Ryan and I had been talking about UC Nightshade. I didn't want to be too far from home, since Dad had just returned. And Ryan thought that UC Nightshade would be werewolf friendly.
A thought struck me. "You didn't tell her about your condition, did you?"
"No, of course not," Ryan said. "But I don't think she'd care. Ms. Tray thinks I have a lot of potential."
I don't know exactly why this was making me so miserable. I should be happy that Ryan had someone to help him with his options for college.
"She's super nice," he continued. "She wants to meet you, too."
"She does?" I said. "Why?"
"To find out more about you," he said. "To help you the way she's helping me."
"Er, great," I said. Ryan didn't even notice the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.
"I can't wait to tell my dad about the meeting. Do you mind? I'd love to try to catch him before he gets called out or goes to bed or something."
I sighed. "Of course not."
I said good night to my boyfriend and then went into the living room to watch a little television. Not exactly the way I envisioned my evening. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I heard a car door slam.
I knew it was late because Letterman was on. I clicked off the TV and then Dad appeared in the doorway.
"Where is everyone?" he said.
"Mom and Poppy are both still working and Rose is out with Nicholas," I said. I smothered a yawn. Poppy had a new job this fall at the campus coffee shop.
"Oh." He hovered in the doorway. "I guess I'll go to bed, then."
"Me, too." I yawned again.
Instead of heading upstairs, he stood there uncertainly.
I remembered Rose's advice to include Dad in my life. "Dad, Nightshade High is having a fundraiser next weekend," I said. "Do you want to come?"
He smiled. "I'd love to," he said. "Your mother and I haven't been to a school event in ... years." His smile faltered, but I pretended not to notice.
I felt a twinge at the thought that all it took to make him happy was a little bit of my life.
"You can meet our principal, Mr. Amador," I said.
"Sounds great," he said.
"And maybe afterward, we can all go to Slim's. I can show you where I work."
I'd said something wrong. His face closed up. "I wish you didn't have to work."
"I don't have to work, Dad," I said. "I want to." Which was mostly true.
I said good night and headed for my room, but I couldn't sleep. Dad was still struggling with his treatment at the hands of the Scourge and it was coming out in weird ways.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dad was still being all weird and wouldn't let me go to San Carlos for the away game on Thursday night. Practically the whole town, including my boyfriend, would be at that game, except for me. I was feeling sorry for myself when Poppy came home from class. I convinced her to come with me to Slim's Diner.
"Isn't it kind of lame to go to the place you work?" Poppy said.
"Dad won't let me go to the game," I said. "And what else is there to do in Nightshade?"
Slim's was a true diner, with red leather booths, shiny chrome counters, and an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. But it was definitely not like other jukeboxes. She (because I was sure the jukebox was female, I'd even named her Lil) played what she wanted, when she wanted. Sometimes, when she was really mad at me, she wouldn't play at all.
The place was packed with tourists. I didn't recognize a single face there except Flo's. Poppy and I sat at the counter. That was the only place left to sit.
Slim had created a special menu for the paranormal tourists. I tried not to think too hard about what exactly was in blood soup, although Slim assured me it was goose blood.
Flo bustled up to us a few minutes later. Her T-shirt read "The rumors are true." Flo had an endless collection of snarky T-shirts, several tattoos, and a serious attitude. Her real name was Florence. Only her brother Slim called her that and lived to tell the tale.
"Hi, Flo," I said. "How are things?"
"I'm in the weeds," she admitted. "What can I get you?"
"I'll help," I said. I hopped down from the stool and grabbed an apron from behind the counter in an attempt to save my outfit. "What do you need me to do first?"
"I hate to ask, but would you mind cooking?" Flo replied.
"Where's Slim?" I asked.
"He went to get some supplies for the dinner rush," Flo replied. "We've been gettin
g a lot of requests for items off the special menu."
"Oh," I said, suddenly understanding. I scanned the crowd and recognized that 90 percent of the tourists were of the supernatural variety. It wasn't obvious at first, but I'd lived in Nightshade long enough to know when pale skin meant a lethal allergy to daylight and when a thick hairy neck meant more than a need for a trip to the barbershop.
An elderly vamp kept eyeing my neck like it was a particularly tasty treat. Which, in a way, I guess it was. At least for vampires. His gaze made me wish I'd worn something a little less revealing, like a parka and a few dozen scarves.
Poppy brought water glasses to the tables while Flo took orders. I ran to the back and took a quick survey of what supplies I had on hand to work with. There was just enough raw meat for the steak tartare the Were family had ordered, but the vampires would have to make do with duck-blood soup, instead of goose.
I wasn't sure, but I thought the hags in the corner booth might like the frogs' legs, so I got those out, too.
As the orders poured in, I cheated a bit and used my telekinesis to chop, stir, and flip when I didn't think anyone was watching. Supernatural or not, there were a lot of out-of-towners in the crowd.
"Daisy, you're a lifesaver," a voice said in my ear. "I've got it from here. Thanks!" A spatula hovered in the air for a second, and then rapidly flipped the patties cooking on the grill.
My boss was back. He was invisible, so it wasn't always easy to tell. Slim continued. "Go enjoy what's left of your night." The spatula gestured to the front door, where Sean, Samantha, and Ryan stood.
The majority of the crowd had been fed, so I went over to talk to them.
"What are you doing here?"
Ryan said, "I was looking for you."
My boyfriend was the greatest. "I'm glad you found me."
"I didn't know you were working tonight," Sam said.
"Neither did I," I replied. I gestured to the full restaurant. "Poppy and I came in for dinner, but the place was slammed." I looked around for her and saw she was at the cash register.
"Let's grab that booth," Ryan said. The Were family was leaving, so I cleared the tabletop and Poppy came over with a cloth and wiped it off and we sat down.
"I'm starving," Sean said.
Then I remembered something. "Hey, why aren't you guys wearing your jerseys?" The football team always wore jerseys on game day. "And Samantha's not in her cheerleading uniform, either. What happened to the game tonight?"
Ryan shook his head. "Game was canceled."
"Why?" Poppy said. "I can't remember the last time a football game between Nightshade and San Carlos was canceled."
"Something happened at the other school," Sean said.
"Something bad? At San Carlos?"
"We got all the way there," Ryan replied. "And they just called off the game. And they're not saying why."
"Weird," I said.
Poppy hesitated when Flo came to take our order. "Maybe I'll just head home," she said.
I didn't need my psychic abilities to tell that Poppy was feeling like a third (or was it fifth?) wheel.
"Please stay," Ryan said. "I wanted to hear about the classes you're taking at UC Nightshade. Daisy and I are both talking about going there."
I squeezed his hand under the table. I loved that he was trying to put my sister at ease. And I loved that he hadn't given up on UC Nightshade.
"I guess I could stay for a little bit," Poppy said.
"And dinner is on the house," my boss called out.
"Slim, you don't have to do that," I replied.
"I insist."
We chatted about the campus and Poppy's favorite professors until the meal came.
A familiar-looking cute guy walked in and stood at the cash register. He had dark hair that fell to his collar, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they looked almost black.
I nudged Poppy. "Is that the guy you were dancing with at the Black Opal?" I asked.
She glanced over at him. He caught her looking and smiled, but she turned her attention back to her food. "I don't know. He's just some guy."
Which meant, in Poppy-speak, "not Gage." Still, the guy in question was hot, no doubt about it.
It seemed like he might work up the courage to come over and say hi, but he lost his nerve at the last minute. Flo walked over carrying a large to-go container. He took his food, paid the bill, and after one last longing look at Poppy, he left.
Flo brought us more food than we had ordered, including enormous chocolate shakes. Everything was delicious, but Poppy only picked at her salad and didn't even touch her shake. I don't know how she could pass it up. Slim's had the best food in town.
I had something I wanted to ask Sean. "Hey, Sean, did Wolfie ever mention what was in that envelope?"
He stopped mid-chew, clearly not understanding the question. He swallowed and then said, "Oh, you mean the letter that fell out of his bag?"
I nodded.
"Nah," he replied. "But Wolfie was awfully mad that I took his bag by mistake."
"Madder than usual?"
Sean shrugged. "It's kind of hard to tell."
It was true. Wolfie was always a little surly. He came from a shifter family, but he had a chip on his shoulder.
"Daisy, can I talk to you for a minute?" Flo said. She sent the gang a quick look. "In private?"
"Sure," I said. I followed her into the back.
She went to the office, where she pulled an envelope from the mail cubby and held it up. "This came today."
She handed it to me and I turned it over. Someone had opened it at the top with a letter opener, which left the red seal intact. There was something ominous about that red seal. The red wax had dripped, leaving little spots on the creamy white paper. It looked like drops of blood.
"Go ahead, read it," she said.
I took it gingerly and unfolded the note. I know what you are was written in fancy calligraphy on the stationery.
"That's it?"
"Isn't that enough?" she said. "It came for Slim, but I opened it. I know how you love a good mystery, so I thought you might be interested."
Wolfgang's letter looked just like this one. I wondered if it said the same thing.
"Strange," I said. "I'll keep my eyes open, but I don't know what it means."
"I do," she said. "It means someone is trying to blackmail us."
"They don't ask for anything," I pointed out.
"Not yet," she said. "But trust me, they will."
"I'll ask my sisters and the gang to keep their eyes and ears open," I said. "If that's all right."
"Yes, but please be discreet," she said. "Slim has enough problems right now."
I promised Flo I'd do what I could to help and then went back to the front. I thought maybe Lil would give me a little help. I put the quarters in and punched in my selection, but the jukebox stubbornly refused to play. I tried again. Still nothing. If Lil knew anything, she certainly wasn't talking.
I shrugged. "Sorry." I was talking to myself, but the jukebox must have thought my apology was meant for her because "Happy" by Leona Lewis blasted out a second later.
The sound cut off abruptly when Circe Silvertongue entered the restaurant.
Flo was sitting at her favorite stool at the counter, but she didn't move when Circe walked up.
"A little service here," Circe demanded.
Flo stomped over to our table and refilled our water glasses. "What's she doing here?" she hissed.
Circe stood at the cash register, waiting, but Flo pointedly ignored her until Slim said, "Florence," in a no-nonsense voice.
Flo then stomped her way over to the register. "Can I help you?"
Circe ignored Flo's scowl. "I placed an order to go," she said.
"The famous chef is eating at our diner. We're honored," Flo said, but her words didn't match her tone.
"Everyone gets tired of their own cuisine," Circe replied.
Flo snorted, and the little bell in front
of the chef's window began to ding wildly. "Order up, Florence," Slim said. "Now!" he added when it looked like Flo was going to say something snide to Circe.
"What's that all about?" Ryan asked.
"I guess Flo doesn't like Circe," I said.
"Well, tell us something we don't know," Samantha said. "The question is why doesn't Flo like her?"
"I have no idea." But Circe gave us a clue a second later.
"How much for the jukebox?" Circe said.
"A quarter per song," Flo replied.
"I mean how much to buy the jukebox."
Flo looked like she was actually considering it.
"I will pay you top dollar for her," Circe said. "This place is just holding on by a thread. You obviously need the money."
For her? How did Circe know that Lil was female?
"The jukebox is not for sale," I interjected. I sent Flo a pleading look.
Circe's eyes gleamed green, which seemed like a bad sign. "This does not concern you, Daisy."
"You can't buy the jukebox," I said.
Flo put a hand on my arm. "Go spend time with your friends," she said curtly. "I'll deal with Circe." The tattoo on her bicep swirled, I was sure of it.
"Please don't sell Lil," I said.
"Circe collects things, Daisy," Flo said. "I'd hate for you to become one of her pets."
"There's no chance of that," I said. "I'm not anyone's pet."
I did what she asked and went back to the table. When I looked up, Circe was gone.
But the jukebox was still there, and for that I was grateful.
Without warning, Lil launched into "Bad Woman" by the Arctic Monkeys.
I agreed with her completely. Lil had always been there for me. I'd buy the jukebox myself before I let Circe have her. Somehow.
CHAPTER SIX
Samantha and I were scheduled to head to the haunted house location after school on Friday. I grabbed the Tupperware containers of the snacks I'd made for the volunteers and met her in the parking lot. I helped Sam load a cooler full of sodas and waters into her car, and we were on our way.
I'd seen the abandoned mansion before, of course, but from a distance. I was really curious. It wasn't far from the Wilder estate, Merriweather House couldn't be seen from the main road.
Dead Is Just a Rumor Page 4
