Casting Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles)

by Amanda DeWees

  Steven sighed, and set down his pen. “At the council meeting. I’d talked it over with Eleanor and Mo, and we decided it was for the best.”

  She was so angry she was shaking. She folded her arms around herself to stop the trembling of her hands. “You decided. I didn’t get a say. Did Tanner? Did he get a vote?”

  “As your father, I felt it was my place to decide,” he said, with more energy. “I’ve had much more experience of the supernatural than either of you, and as the only unbiased party—”

  The sound of the front door closing silenced him. Tan was gone. In a moment they heard the sound of a motorcycle starting up.

  “If you’ve driven him off—” Joy made it to the door as quickly as her ungainly gait permitted, and out onto the front porch. Tanner was just fastening his helmet.

  “Tan!” she shouted, but she knew she couldn’t be heard over the sound of the bike. “Where are you going?”

  He hadn’t heard or seen her. He revved the bike, kicked it into gear, and had vanished around the curve of the driveway almost before she had stopped speaking.

  She stormed back into the house. “I hope you’re happy,” she snapped. “You’ve successfully chased him off, just as you’ve been trying to do all along.”

  “You’re being unreasonable,” said her father. “I haven’t intended any such thing.”

  “From the first day you haven’t made Tan feel welcome. Making him stay in the basement, expecting him to go on some big job hunt, making him do chores—it’s like you’re punishing him for getting me pregnant.”

  “I have not been punishing him.” His voice was exasperated now. “Believe me, you don’t want to be married to an unemployable prima donna who can’t do his own laundry. It’s important for Tanner to take on adult responsibilities.”

  “But you’re not treating him like an adult. You’re not treating either of us that way. You’re still trying to control us, instead of letting us lead our own lives.”

  “Oh, because that worked so well while I was in Oklahoma,” he retorted.

  That brought her up short. “What?”

  “Well, look at you: pregnant, suspended from school; it’s almost as if you deliberately tried to punish me for leaving you here on your own.”

  “You think the baby is about you?” she asked, bewildered.

  He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking weary. For the first time in days she thought about his health, wondering how strong he really was. “I’m not saying you did it consciously, but it could have been a way of proving me wrong. ‘You wanted me to make my own decisions? Well, how do you like this one?’”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said warmly. “Yeah, I was upset that you were making me figure out everything on my own. But I got by. And you can’t just make things go back to the way they were before. You wanted me to be independent, but now you want to tell me what to do, and I can’t just go back and forth when it suits you.”

  “Is that really what I’m doing?” She left a silence. After a moment he shook his head ruefully. “I guess it could look like I’ve been trying to have it both ways. But I can’t stop being your father just because you’re grown up now.”

  She went to sit on the arm of his chair. “I don’t want you to,” she said more quietly. “Tan and I are going to need help to make this work. I don’t have any practice at being in this kind of relationship, and neither does he. If you could try to help him, instead of making him prove himself to you over and over…”

  “I just worry that if you ever have to rely on him in a crisis, he won’t be up to it.”

  “Let me worry about that.” But another worry was more pressing, and she found herself blurting, “I’m just scared that he’s going to regret choosing to be with me. I have so little to bring to the table.”

  “Now, that’s ridiculous.” He put his arm around her waist—or what passed for her waist these days—and hugged her. “You’re your mother’s daughter, and that makes you pretty damn terrific.”

  “I wish she were here,” said Joy. She had a feeling her mother would have been able to prevent things from getting this stormy.

  “I wish she were here too,” her father said. “It seems like I miss her more every day.”

  For a few moments they were silent. Then, “Dad?” she said. “Do you honestly think I’ve changed?”

  “You are more aggressive,” he said, and the gravity in his voice amazed her. She got up off the arm of his chair and took a seat across from him, feeling rebuffed.

  “I’m more assertive, maybe. But I’ve got more at stake now.” When he didn’t answer, she said, subdued, “I’ll take whatever tests you want me to take. I feel sure that I’m still me, but if it’ll convince you and the council, I’ll swim laps in a pool filled with holy water and eat a pound of salt every day.”

  He didn’t brush off the offer. Instead he asked, “And Tanner? What about convincing him?”

  She suspected that Tanner wouldn’t have needed convincing if her father hadn’t gotten to him. Who was better equipped to suss out a whiff of the succubus? And he had seemed happy to snuggle with her that first morning, before her father had put him in the middle. “He and I can work things out,” she said. If he’d just come back, she added to herself. Where had he gone?

  * * *

  When Aerosol Cheese met that morning at fourth period for rehearsal, William brought his laptop. “I’ve written something new for us,” he announced. “I used a dummy drum track and recorded a demo. You’ll just have to imagine how it’ll sound with Blake on vocals and an actual drummer.”

  He had recorded the vocals as well as the keyboard, guitar, bass, and violin, working in the practice rooms of the music building or in his own room hooked up to his laptop. Clark had become accustomed to seeing William sitting at his computer in headphones, too busy for conversation, oblivious to everything else. At least, that’s how he knew he looked. Probably he could have spared time for the odd conversation, but he wanted to get this done while he still felt inspired. If that was the right word for a song like this.

  “Cool, we’ve been needing some more original material,” said Jeremiah. “Do you have a name for it?”

  “It’s called ‘She Says Yes.’”

  “What is it, a love song?”

  William bared his teeth in a humorless grin. “Just listen.”

  The intro had a bit of a goth flavor. William had originally written the music as a gift for Maddie; she loved songs that sounded mysterious and haunting, and the cello rock she liked had inspired this piece. He had intended to collaborate with Joy on some lyrics she would like and give her a recording of the song for her next birthday. Now she’d never know this had been composed for her—but he would know, and he found a grim pleasure in what he’d done with it.

  His singing wasn’t as strong as Blake’s; he didn’t have that dark resonant voice. But he got the lyrics across, which was what mattered at the moment. The four of them listened in silence to the first two verses and the chorus:

  She keeps her options open wide

  Always wants more and never less

  A little something on the side

  Just get in line and she’ll say yes

  You ask her, is it him or me?

  She’ll never say, she makes you guess

  But now the truth is plain to see

  For every man her answer’s yes

  A little fun

  No more, no less

  You’d better run

  When she says yes

  What’s in her mind

  Can’t even guess

  It’s cruel not kind

  When she says yes

  “Damn,” said Eric, impressed. “That is hardcore, dude.”

  “Just listen to the rest,” said William, secretly pleased.

  Everyone listened without comment to the rest of the song. When the fadeout began he reached over and paused the playback. Blake was the first to weigh in. “I
like how retro it sounds,” he said. “The violin part especially. It’s a little darker than what we’ve been doing, though.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty strong stuff,” said Jeremiah. “Don’t you think it’s a little, I don’t know, harsh?”

  Eric made an exasperated noise. “What are we, a bunch of wusses? It’s awesome. Hit the skank where she lives.”

  “That’s just what I mean,” said Jeremiah. “It seems pretty rough on Maddie.”

  “I never said it was about her.” This was hair splitting, and William wondered if the guys noticed. “The girl in the song is, you know, a composite. She’s not any one specific person.”

  Jeremiah gave him a long look. “Seriously.”

  “Guys, come on. Half the rock songs in the world are about girls treating guys bad. What do you think of it other than that?”

  “It’s a kick-ass song, dude,” said Eric. “Who cares if Mads thinks it’s about her? She can put on her big-girl panties and deal.”

  “It is an awesome song,” Blake agreed. “As long as it isn’t aimed at anyone, you know, in particular…”

  “Of course it’s not. Come on, hasn’t every guy felt like this at one point or another?”

  “Hell yeah,” said Eric. “Starting with that tease Gina Treadwell in sixth grade.”

  “Lisa from spring break,” muttered Jeremiah. And Blake, though silent, made a wry face and nodded.

  “That’s what I thought. It’s universal. Blake, does the key work for you?”

  “I guess so, sure. But I like how it sounds with you singing. What if we switched off: you do the verses, I do the chorus?”

  “Or what if you both do the chorus, with Blake doing harmony? I think the contrast of your voices would be kind of dramatic.” Jeremiah was starting to get enthusiastic now too.

  William relaxed as the discussion turned to technical issues. For a minute he had thought the guys were going to wimp out and refuse to do the song. And he knew it was good. It had enough of a retro quality to fit with the rest of their set list, but it was distinctive enough to get the audience’s attention. And damn, but it had felt good writing and recording it.

  He wondered how many other people would connect it with Maddie. He hadn’t expected that to be so obvious. But then, the guys had been there for that last disastrous conversation. Probably no one else would associate “She Says Yes” with Maddie.

  But if they did? Fine with him. Let it serve as a warning.

  After rehearsal ended, it was a good ten minutes into lunch period before Sheila hurried in. It figured. Maybe women were all like Maddie, under the skin.

  When Sheila finally arrived, she was wearing a fluffy white sweater with skinny jeans and had her long hair tied back with a filmy scarf. She looked pretty and feminine and deceptively innocent. Considering what he now knew, he wasn’t fooled.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said at once. “Grace wanted to go over something from class and I just couldn’t get rid of her. If she’d stop texting in class and pay attention, she wouldn’t have to ask me. I mean, honestly, can you picture what would happen if we all spent dance practice texting? One jeté and we’d all be colliding. It would be ballerina bumper cars.”

  But he didn’t laugh. “I think I’ve solved your problem for you,” he said. “It looks like this piece has been recorded by more than one artist.”

  “Oh,” she said, “that’s great.”

  Did he imagine it, or did she look a little apprehensive?

  “In fact,” he said, “you have your pick of versions to choose from.” He gestured toward the laptop, where he had created a new playlist with five different versions of the song. He’d stopped there, but he could have added more if he’d really wanted to rub it in.

  “Wow, that’s terrific,” she said. “So you didn’t have to transcribe it after all.”

  “Nope.” He left a silence.

  “How did you find it?” she asked, when she saw he wasn’t going to say anything more.

  “I did a Google search for ‘La Gitanita’ and ‘flamenco guitar,’” he said flatly. “Took point three seconds.”

  “Wow,” she said again. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “I think you did.” He folded his arms. “Anyone who made the slightest effort would have found that online. It’s actually kind of insulting that you tried to fool me with something so obvious. So I have to ask: what’s your game?”

  She drew herself up and tried to look indignant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You needed a pretext to talk to me, so you came up with this nonsense. What I want to know is why. You leveraged me to get in with Joy, so I figure it’s something to do with her. Are you trying to get the inside story about her and Tanner to sell to a tabloid?”

  “Of course not!”

  “So it’s something else. Are you working for Melisande’s people, trying to get at Tanner? To split him and Joy up, even?”

  “No! God! Stop being so mean. I didn’t think you were like this.” She had wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

  “Well, I don’t like it when someone makes a fool of me and I don’t know why.”

  She stared at her feet. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know how else to talk to you. I know your whole little gang thinks I’m a bitch, and I’m not saying you don’t have reason to, but—”

  “Get to the point, Sheila.” How could he have let her fool him? He should have known that someone like her wouldn’t ever really change, no matter how appealingly she looked at him with those big blue eyes.

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “You always seemed really nice,” she said, her voice so low he could barely hear her. “And talented, and—well—cute. And you didn’t seem to be seeing anyone…”

  “Wait, what?” He had to be misunderstanding her. “This whole thing wasn’t about Joy? You just wanted—”

  “—to ask you out, yeah.” When he didn’t respond, she risked a look at his face. “Of course now you won’t be interested, and I’ve just embarrassed myself for no reason, so I guess I’ll go. You and Joy and the rest of your friends can have a good laugh at my expense, and don’t worry, I won’t bug you again.” She picked up her bag and started for the door.

  “Sheila, wait.” He caught her by the arm. “I didn’t mean to grill you. I just—why would you want to go out with me?”

  “Like I said. You seem like a decent guy, and you’ve got that hipster-geek thing going on, and you’re smart—although I’m starting to have my doubts about that.”

  “Yeah, actually, so am I,” he said, and found that he was smiling. On impulse he said, “Listen, why don’t we start over. You want to go to lunch? You can tell me the story of your life, and I’ll try not to jump to any conclusions about your secret identity as a spy.”

  She didn’t answer at first, but then that powerhouse smile broke out, and she shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “Sure, why not. But if you tell anyone what an idiot I was, I’ll break your arm.”

  “Chivalry is my middle name,” William assured her. “I’ll even carry your bookbag for you.”

  “It’s not a bookbag; it’s my dance togs.”

  “Well then, you’re on your own, lady.”

  Chapter 10

  After Tanner’s sudden departure, Joy took her schoolbooks out to the front porch so that she could watch the road while she worked. At least these days she could sit on the porch in peace; things had quieted down from the first couple of days, when Tanner’s fans sometimes came prowling around with cameras. But she couldn’t settle down to her studies; keeping alert for the sight and sound of the Ninja prevented her from concentrating.

  It was a sunny autumn morning like any other, with the pine woods stirring lazily on the ridge beneath a crisp breeze, and a hawk now and then circling in the piercing blue sky. She could distantly hear trucks passing on the highway, and the sound of someone chopping wood, no doubt stocking up for the fireplace before cold weathe
r set in. It would have been a perfect day for walking in the woods with Tan, enjoying the dazzling colors of the changing leaves, or going for a ride with him. Except that he hadn’t wanted her with him. She got out her phone and called him, but his voicemail picked up. She left a short message and sat tapping her thumbnail against her teeth, trying not to worry.

  A cloud passed over the sun, drenching the pine woods in shadow, and she shivered. She felt exposed suddenly, alone on the porch. That thing that wore Tanner’s likeness, how had it known about her? She wondered now whether the confrontation would have ended differently if the real Tanner hadn’t arrived. The jolt he’d gotten from baby Rose must have left him certain that she held some of Melisande’s power.

  Which she obviously did.

  Lightly, Joy touched her belly. All was still now. She knew Rose wasn’t an ordinary baby; that much was clear. But she was as certain as she was of anything in the world that there was nothing evil in her.

  “You’re just a little supercharged, that’s all,” she said. And maybe came equipped with a security system, which honestly was pretty awesome. If only she kept it after she was born, anyone who tried to invade Rose’s personal space would be zapped into rethinking his intentions. She’d have her very own forcefield; what parent didn’t want that for her child?

  But the false Tanner had seemed intrigued, not discouraged, when Rose flung him off.

  Did that mean he’d be back to try to take her? Maybe he had something planned that needed an infusion of succubus juice. And she had no idea what that might be, but it couldn’t be anything good.

  “You seem very thoughtful,” came an unexpected voice, and she jumped. Standish Billups was standing by the front steps, watching her. He looked just as rumpled as before, but his gaze was sharp. She didn’t see a vehicle; he must have arrived on foot, which would explain why he’d been able to sneak up on her. “Did you and Tristan have a fight? He headed off so fast it looked like his pants were on fire and his ass was catching.”