by Amy McNulty
“Nothing for me,” I said, then turned to my friend. “Can you guys get out? I need to use the restroom.”
“Okay, okay,” said Paisley as my movements practically nudged her up against Laguna. “Sheesh. When you gotta go, huh?”
But I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity. I walked brusquely between the counter and the booths, only realizing after a few beats that Laguna was on my tail. I supposed backup was a smart idea, though if my worries were all for nothing, Laguna might make any attempt at casual social interaction with Journey followed by a grip of the hand—or something like that—difficult to pull off.
A crash of glass breaking snapped me out of the moment as I whipped around. The waitress had been trying to juggle all of our plates, and one now lay on the ground beside her now in pieces. She tried bending over to pick it up, balancing what she still had in her other hand, but then she let out a little pained cry and flung her free hand out above her.
The girls I’d left behind at the table all stood up to look at her, Raelynn even helping guide her stack of plates back down to the table.
“She cut herself!” shouted Lyric over her shoulder toward us.
The blond man in a suit jumped up—and I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped so close beside him.
He moved so quickly, he practically shoved me over, and I lost my balance, flinging my hands out, accidentally grabbing on to his arm to steady myself, that niggling feeling at the back of my mind springing into action as I then purposely seized his hand.
Ember, clear as day, in a red dress, even paler than I remembered her. The soft, old-timey music played from a distinctly vintage-style radio in a large family room. A few couples danced animatedly, while others lingered around the room. One stunning voluptuous redhead woman in particular ran a finger up and down a sickly-looking man’s neck. She seemed familiar, but I strained, trying to find myself among these memories.
They weren’t my own thoughts.
There were so many bright blue eyes. Not on all of the people here. But so many of them. They were intoxicating. Beautiful. Calling to my soul.
“Thomas?” said the redhaired woman languidly stroking the other man’s neck. “Am I making you jealous?”
The way her lips upturned into a grin could melt me where I stood.
I snapped back to the moment, my hand dropping from the man’s.
He was with the vampires. And he’d just jumped up with a bolt at the smell of fresh blood.
Chapter Eighteen
“Laguna!”
But I didn’t need to get her at the ready. As my fingers went numb, the cold taking hold of my fist, she was on her haunches ready to pounce at the blond guy with flecks of gray in his hair—Ember’s dad, I realized with a start, the memory I’d seen in Ember’s mind resurfacing.
But the guy ripped his hand from mine—I hadn’t realized I’d been still holding it, clutching it for dear life as the ice started to form there—and rushed toward the waitress and my friends.
“Look out!” I shouted, hot on his tail, Laguna right on mine.
But Ember’s dad barely hesitated by the table, where Raelynn was dabbing napkins to the waitress’ hand and Lyric, ignoring the mad dash of the middle-aged man, was calling out for someone to come bring a first aid kit.
He pointedly stared at the bleeding hand, no doubt about that, but perhaps at the sound of my pounding footfalls right behind him, he kept going and ran to the entrance, pulling a Calder and speeding right out the door.
I screeched to a halt, watching him get into a car—a shiny gray thing with a rental car service sticker on its front window—and drive away.
“He’s one of them,” I explained to Laguna in hushed whispers as she, too, watched him go.
She shook her head. “His eyes.”
“Well, he certainly spends time with them.” I looked her up and down. “Besides, you’ve been acting like you smelled something on him ever since we came here.”
It was strange that the man was here before we arrived, so it wasn’t the result of any tailing. He did appear to know Journey’s dad, but certainly this couldn’t have been a coincidence?
Not with this age-old battle going on.
But if he was one of them—in some way—why had he run at the smell of blood—away from the blood?
My mind scrambled with possibilities. Maybe he was a baby vampire, not yet drinking blood, but unable to control himself around it. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to give away his cover, thin though it may have been.
“Oh, jeez, Tiff.”
Whipping around, I realized my original intention of using the subconscious mind reading thing on Journey had been abandoned. And that, if my theory about baby vampires not having to wear sunglasses turned out to be true—well, Journey Slowe didn’t seem to have any problem being around the blood. She cradled the waitress’ hand gently, not flinching and fleeing or taking a drink for herself. Maybe she and Devam really did just think they’d gotten food poisoning. Maybe they had or the vampires had been clever enough to disguise whatever had gone down as such.
At least I’d gotten some intel. Something squeezed tightly in my stomach. I’d wanted to look into Ember’s dad before, but Calder had stopped me.
True, Calder had been right to focus on some inanimate object instead. But what if tomorrow the bloodsuckers had some plans to use my own dad—and sister—against me?
What if I’d just let my best opportunity of preventing that from happening pass me by?
“I’m so sorry,” said Journey, guiding the waitress toward the backroom. She spoke over her shoulder as they moved. “We’ll have everything cleaned right up. And the meal’s on us.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. It was an accident,” said Raelynn.
Lyric nudged her, though, and pasted on a broad smile. “Thanks so much.”
I stood still a second, watching Journey go.
“Fat lot of help you were,” said Lyric with a laugh. “I saw you bolting over here and I thought you were going to help us keep the bleeding down.” She turned a shade of green as she spotted some red splots on the table’s edge. “Anyway, can we get going? Unless you two still have to use the bathroom?”
Chewing on my lip, I shook my head. “I’ll use it at The Hollow Tree.”
Even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d last been here—I’d gotten my last paycheck, so to speak, just earlier in the week—I was struck by an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I walked through the front door, the bell jangling overhead.
Lyric and Paisley were chatting about a physics assignment—or more accurately, they were discussing the way Mr. Jones’ moustache bobbed whenever he sighed, which was often, I remembered—and Raelynn made a beeline for the front counter, looking around.
Laguna lingered at my side, the door shutting closed behind us.
“Ah, Miss Kelly,” said a familiar voice. The brown, curly hair with flecks of green and gold appeared above a row of bookshelves and made its way toward the counter. “Been waiting for you. Lovely day, yeah?”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, taking a second to think about how the scuffed and chipped case could really use some replacing, and fired off the text message that would be our signal. He’s here.
Calder sent a thumbs-up back.
I nodded to Laguna and she started wandering down an aisle, doing a poor job of acting nonchalant, with her fists clenched and her vibrant red hair whipping this way and that every few seconds. She jumped with a start at Paisley’s cry of “Kitty!” Maine Coon Feilia opened one eye lazily as Paisley went to work disturbing the feline’s beauty sleep atop a sun-soaked armchair, the sniffling starting almost immediately as her allergies kicked in.
The chatter between Orin and Rae melted into murmurs, punctuated by Raelynn’s delicate peals of laughter and the clank of the cash register.
Feilia stood up and stretched before jumping down off the chair, pointedly ignoring Paisley, even as she chased
after her.
“Let the cat breathe, Pais,” said Lyric. She scrunched up her nose as she took in Paisley’s puffy eyes. “Let yourself breathe. Remember the cat allergies.”
“Oh, I remember,” said Paisley sadly, rubbing her nose on the back of her sleeve. She sighed and let Lyric guide her away.
I stopped to let Feilia trot by, but she looked up at me and hesitated, then started rubbing my legs and letting out a grumbling purr.
I bent down to scratch her ear for half a minute when Orin scared the living daylights out of me.
“The little shop gaffer missed you, yeah? Though I reckon she doesn’t usually show it.”
I stumbled onto my backside and looked up. He was leaning over a bookshelf, his hands dangling across a line of creased paperbacks.
Feilia yawned and made her way around the shelves toward the backroom.
Jumping to my feet, I smoothed my hair. “Hello,” is all I said. I feigned interest in a nearby book, flipping through it and realizing with a start that it was one of those midlife crisis books where the guy drinks a lot, almost cheats on his wife, and tells off his boss before riding off into the sunset.
“Your taste in literature is surprising,” said Orin as he rounded the shelf to peer over my shoulder. “Though certainly in line with most professional critics’, I’ll give you that.”
Flushing, I shoved the book back on the shelf.
“You’re a lot of fun to take the mickey out of, you know that?” he asked.
No, I didn’t know that, whatever “that” was. But I had an idea.
Raelynn appeared at the other end with her The Hollow Tree bag in her hand. “I have to be somewhere at three, so I’m going to get Lyric and Paisley and get going. Didn’t you have to use the bathroom?”
Right. I’d almost forgotten about that. “Yeah, uh… Okay, see you guys.” I looked around for Laguna and found her halfway up the stairs to the second floor, peering down over the space below like a queen surveying her kingdom.
“How does a half-fish relieve herself again?” Orin pondered aloud as Raelynn turned the corner.
“Shut it,” I said, my face reddening. I actually didn’t know how they went in merfolk form. I supposed it must have been similar to a fish, however they went.
“We’re going to get going,” said Lyric as she rounded the corner. “Thanks for meeting us for lunch. It was… certainly memorable.”
Orin raised an eyebrow as he shoved his hands into his pockets. His reading glasses dangled precariously from his front shirt pocket. “Oh? Do tell.”
“The waitress bled all over our table,” explained Paisley. “So we got to eat for free.”
He nodded, clearly considering. “Well, that’s one way to dodge a bill, in’t it?”
Paisley gave me a hug, sniffing loudly, though I knew the tears were from the cat dander. “I can hitch a ride with you two if you want me to stay.”
I looked up at Laguna, who probably couldn’t hear anything from where she stood. “Oh, that’d be nice, but we do have that project to work on. Besides, I don’t know if she could give you a lift later since it’s her parents’ car.”
Paisley nodded. “All right, then, but don’t be a stranger, okay?”
I nodded.
Lyric gave my arm a mild punch, what might have been a genuine smile darting on her lips. “See you around, traitor.”
Little did she know I was apparently working subterfuge from within Central High, pulling their team’s top swimmers out of the next meet. Giving her an awkward smile, I waved as they made their way to the door.
As soon as the bell over the door ceased its clanging, Orin looked from Laguna to me and back again. He cupped his hands around his lips. “Can I help you find something, fish girl? Or are you just going to stare down at us menacingly all day?”
Laguna’s lips pinched and she made her way down the staircase, her feet stomping loudly with every step.
“She’s just on guard since the blood incident,” I explained.
“Oh? So were there vampires present after all?”
I shrugged. “We’re not sure. Not the sunglass-wearing kind anyway.” I didn’t know how much to tell him. He was supposed to be neutral, but he clearly had no qualms about helping stir things up on occasion.
“I see. Well, if you don’t have any purchases to make, I may as well close up shop.” He stretched, putting his arms straight up overhead, leaning first one way and then the other. “I feel like going home and putting my feet up before the fire.”
A shot of adrenaline coursed through me, the pounding of my heart loud and overpowering in my head. He can’t leave yet. Not until I hear from Calder. “I really do have to use the bathroom,” I said quickly.
Orin chuckled. “All right. Well, you know where it is.” He eyed Laguna as she shuffled over toward us and she gave me a slight, almost-imperceptible nod, as if to say she’d keep an eye on him while I dodged out of sight.
I walked briskly around the counter and to the backroom, Feilia giving me a one-eye stare from her perch atop some of the boxes stacked high beside the bathroom door. Things had gotten even more disorganized in the short time since I’d last worked here. The door shut behind me, the sensor light flicking on, and I leaned against the door and checked my messages. Nothing.
Find it? I sent first.
There was half a minute before Calder entered his reply. No. It’s not anywhere.
Are you sure?
There aren’t that many places to look.
I sighed, wondering how I was going to keep stalling Orin and how much time would prove necessary before they called it quits. It’s not on the mantel?
Huh? wrote Calder.
A thought struck me. Did you find the cabin? I asked. Calder had said that even the princes usually couldn’t find the place without Orin’s permission.
No, he wrote back. That’s what I meant. We can’t find it anywhere. But I know it’s somewhere around here.
They hadn’t even found the cabin yet, let alone turned the place upside down for the orb. A sigh flooded out from between my lips. This was a disaster. Why hadn’t any of us thought of that?
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Almost finished, love? I want to close up shop and your fish girl friend’s cold, icy stare is giving me the willies.”
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I took a deep breath to steel myself. “Not yet. Geez, don’t rush me.”
I decided to actually go while I had the chance, while I needed to think.
“Okay, but yeah, she’s followed me back here now, and she’s got some Jason Voorhees-level blank-face staring at me going on, yeah? Please hurry.”
I chuckled despite myself. What were the two of them doing out there? Did Laguna have any idea how to be subtle?
I finished up my business and gave my hands a good, long, long washing.
“Sheesh, obsessive compulsive much?” said Orin as I let myself out. “You’re going to rub your skin clear off, yeah?” He was sitting at the breakroom table, cradling a mug of, no doubt, tea as Laguna stared at him from the open doorway that led to the rest of the shop.
He kept staring back at her, tugging at an ear with the hand not cradling the mug, somehow his expression both befuddled and bemused. “She your muscle now?” he asked, not even taking his eyes off Laguna.
“Something like that.” I swooped into the other chair at the table and used Orin’s portable water boiler and a tea bag to make myself a cup.
“Help yourself, why don’t you?” Orin’s brow arched.
“Thought I’d just share a cup of tea with an old friend.”
“Right, right,” said Orin. “That’s why the last time you saw me, you had to restrain yourself from throttling my throat.”
“You were watching movies on a garage rooftop while bloodsuckers were threatening to inject venom into my veins.”
“Hey, I helped with that.”
To be fair, he had.
“True,” I said, ho
lding my mug up. “So like I said. A cup of tea with an old friend.”
“Well, you’ve got the ‘old’ part right anyway.” Orin sipped at his mug before looking up over my shoulder. “She going to join us or just glare at me?”
I didn’t wait to see Laguna’s response. “Glare, I suppose.”
My pocket buzzed as a text message came in, but I didn’t dare check it. If they were only just now finding the cabin, they’d need at least a few more minutes to search it.
A playful smirk tugged on Orin’s lips. “You know, you could have just asked, all right?”
I blew on my mug of tea, the bag still in it. “Sorry. Next time I’ll ask if you can spare the tea bag and water before I just help myself.” I took a sip. Too hot. My lips pinched as I swallowed to get it over with quickly, the cold tingling on my fingertips almost an automatic reflex to the fire on my lips.
“No, you’re welcome to my tea,” said Orin. “I mean the orb.”
Splurting out my drink, I slammed the mug down harder than I’d meant to, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. “What?”
“Don’t play coy with me.” The corners of Orin’s lips were visible around the mug as he took a slow, slow sip.
Now he was the one being aggravatingly slow as my heel bounced rapidly below the table.
“How did you know?” I asked, all games dropped—probably the best plan to get him to answer me faster.
“I have my ways. You’ve been planning this for days.”
Laguna shuffled closer, but I held an arm out to stop her as she reached the edge of the table.
“Harming the observer, fish girl,” said Orin, putting his mug back on the table. “War-losing penalty.”
“She’s not going to lay a hand on you,” I said firmly, as much to Laguna as to Orin.
“Oy, yeah, I figured that. That’s why she’s settled for making the hairs on my arms stand up on end instead.” Shuddering, he pushed back from the table and stood.
My mind raced as he went to a box of books beside Feilia. He’d hypnotized or whatever it was my parents into accepting him as an old family friend. Was it just a matter of calling up my mom and asking her to browse through my text messages or…? But how did Mom know my password? She could have had a parental override, I supposed.
