Dead Is Not an Option Page 4

  "Maybe there's another explanation," I said. I was already breaking my promise not to talk.

  "Please, Daisy," he said in a gentler tone. "We want to know who's behind this, and we know the city council isn't exactly impartial when it comes to crimes committed by paranormals. You've got to help us." The distress on Wolfie's face convinced me.

  "I'll look into it," I said. "But I'm not making any promises."

  He nodded. "That's good enough for me."

  He got up to leave, but I thought of something else. "Do you know of any reason a vampire would be angry at Elise? Or Bane?"

  "No clue," he replied, but he said it to his shoes. I did a little mental probe and caught the words my fault before he left. Wolfie was guilt ridden about something. He irritated everyone—maybe this time he'd ticked off the wrong person and Elise had paid the price.

  When I got home from work, there was a pink '57 T-bird in our driveway. It was a dead ringer for Miss Foster's car, but my former gym teacher wouldn't be driving anymore. I'd turned her into an oily splotch on the gymnasium floor, hadn't I?

  "What's that thing doing in our driveway?" I demanded as soon as I got into the house.

  "Isn't she great?" Dad replied. "I've always wanted one, you know. I bought it with some of my book advance."

  I wanted to be happy for him, but my stomach lurched at the thought of seeing it every day. "Where did you find it?"

  "Spenser gave me the lead," he said. "It used to belong to an old friend of his."

  My unease grew. "Who?"

  "Spenser," Dad said. "Spenser Devereaux, Samantha's dad, my colleague." His twinkling eyes gave away that he was teasing.

  "That's not what I mean, Dad," I said. "I mean, who did the car belong to?"

  He shrugged. "Spenser didn't say. He told me that his friend wouldn't be needing it any longer."

  My stomach clenched, but I told myself that it was probably just a coincidence. Then again, exactly how many pink T-birds were there in Nightshade?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Things seemed to calm down in Nightshade after Elise's attack. At least, I thought so until about a week later, when Sam came up to me after my last class. "Have you heard what they're saying?"

  "What?"

  "That there's going to be a fight in Nightshade. The vamps against the Weres."

  "Where did you hear that?"

  "Penny told me," she said. "Tyler overheard some of the guys talking about it."

  You could count on Penny to know the latest gossip, although she'd tapered off a bit since she and Tyler had gotten serious.

  "What has everyone in an uproar this time?" I asked.

  "Didn't you know?" Sam asked. "There was another one. Two nights ago. They're trying to keep it quiet. Christy Hannigan's mom works at the hospital, and she told Christy all about it."

  "Another Were was attacked?"

  Sam shook her head somberly. "No, it was a vampire this time. One of the young ones. And now the vampires are out for blood. Literally."

  "That can't be good," I said. I couldn't believe I was so behind on the gossip, but then again, we didn't know all the vamps in town since some of them went to night school.

  We walked to the car.

  "Hey, do you want to spend the night at my house?" Sam asked. "My dad's out of town and it's a little spooky there by myself."

  "I thought you'd want to spend every waking moment with Sean," I said.

  "Oh, he and his dad are going on that father-son camping trip with Ryan and the chief."

  "I could use a break from my sisters."

  "I don't blame you," she said. "It must be tough."

  "I was just kidding," I said. "What must be tough?"

  "Forget I said anything," Sam replied.

  "Come on, Sam," I said.

  "It's just, I thought Rose and Poppy might be having some problems," she said. "Since Rose is dating a shifter and Poppy is dating a vampire."

  "They're getting along fine," I said. I was totally in denial. They still weren't getting along at all. Hopefully, Mom's dinner party would solve that problem.

  "Of course they are," she said soothingly.

  She looked so abashed that I couldn't say no to her invitation. "Let me just clear it with my parents," I said.

  We stopped at my house for a change of clothes and my sleeping bag before heading to Sam's. I'd been to Mr. Devereaux's condo a few times, but it had been mostly right after Sam had moved in with him. The place had changed since my last visit.

  "Your father redecorated," I said.

  The condo, which had been nice before, was now opulent. The modest television had been replaced by a gargantuan flat-screen TV that took up one entire wall. When I stepped on the white carpet it felt like I was walking on down pillows, and there was a white silk couch against the other wall that looked too pristine too sit on.

  "Let's put your stuff in my room," Sam suggested. As we walked down the hall, I noticed that snapshots of Sam had been replaced by several paintings. I stopped for a second and examined one with multicolored splatters.

  "This looks like a real Jackson Pollock," I said.

  Sam shrugged. "One of Dad's former students painted it. He said she gave him a good deal."

  Mr. Devereaux seemed to have a lot of cash lately. His book must be doing well, I thought.

  We stashed my stuff in her room, which looked like it was the only part of the place that hadn't had a makeover, and then headed back to the living room.

  "Do you want to go rent a movie or something?" I said.

  "We have plenty of movies here," Sam said. She opened a cabinet full of DVDs. "Dad just bought the newest Matt Damon film," she said.

  "Didn't that just come out?"

  She shrugged. "He buys a lot of movies," she said. "But he never seems to have time to watch them."

  She saw my sympathetic smile and said, "Don't feel sorry for me, Daisy. My dad's busy, but he loves me."

  "What's not to love?" I replied.

  She bumped my shoulder. "Now, let's pick out a movie. What do you want? Action adventure? Horror? Romantic comedy?"

  "I've had enough horror in my life lately," I answered. "So no vampires fighting with werewolves. How about a nice, safe romantic comedy?"

  "Want some popcorn?" Samantha said.

  "Can we eat in here?"

  "Sure," she said. "Dad said everything can be replaced."

  Her dad seemed fairly cool about his new possessions, especially considering that the Devereaux family had been having financial problems not that long ago.

  "How about I make some caramel corn?" I said. My stomach growled. The fries we'd split at Slim's obviously hadn't satisfied my hunger pangs.

  "And let's get a pizza," she replied. "Dad left me a bunch of cash." She took out a stack of what looked like hundreds and took out a bill, then replaced the money in the kitchen drawer.

  After we ordered a large pizza with chicken, white sauce, and extra garlic, I started on the caramel corn. I popped the kernels and then put a stick of butter into a shiny new high-end copper pot and turned the burner on low heat.

  The doorbell rang, and I assumed it was the pizza delivery person, but then I heard Samantha and it sounded like she was arguing with someone. Something in her voice made me shut off the stove and rush to the front door.

  "No, he's not here right now," she said. "Can I take a message?"

  "What's up?" I said, moving in front of her protectively.

  "She's here for my father," Sam said. "Who, as I said before," she emphasized, "Is. Not. Here."

  The woman's face was in shadow, but she gave an annoyed grunt at the news that Mr. Devereaux was not available. A hat concealed most of her face, but I noticed a small purplish birthmark on her jaw.

  "I'll wait," she said, and made an attempt to push her way in. I slammed the door in her face and threw the deadbolt.

  "I must see him," she said. "It's important or I wouldn't be here. Tell him it's Trinity."

  "Go awa
y," I shouted through the door. "Right now, or I'm calling the cops."

  Sam had already grabbed the phone, but the stranger gave up. Her heels clicked as she walked away.

  "Do you think we should call the police?" she asked.

  "No, she was probably just..." I hesitated, not sure of a polite way to put it.

  "Looking for a booty call?" Sam collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Gross, Giordano."

  "I just meant, you know, after the divorce, your dad probably wants to, er, date again."

  "I can't say much for his choice of women," she said. "First Ms. Tray, and now this weirdo."

  Ms. Tray had been our high school guidance counselor for a very short time. She was attractive on the outside but pure evil on the inside.

  "I've heard it's tough to be single," I said. I smothered a few giggles of my own. "I think I recognized her, though."

  "I've never seen her before," Sam said.

  "I think she's the substitute postal carrier," I said. "She was delivering mail on my street the other day."

  "Whoever she is, she's weird," Sam said. "I hope Dad isn't serious about her."

  When the doorbell rang again a few minutes later, we both jumped, but it was only the pizza guy.

  "Thanks for staying with me, Daisy," Samantha said. "You're a good friend."

  I was embarrassed by her gratitude. "You have caramel corn in your teeth," I said.

  She laughed. "Cut it out," she said. "And just take my thank-you."

  "Okay," I said. "You're welcome. Now hand over a slice of that pizza." And I took a huge bite so I wouldn't start blubbering. This might be one of the last nights like this, especially if I didn't get into UC Nightshade.

  Sam read my mind. "You'll get in, Daisy. I know it."

  The rest of the night was filled with calories, gossip, and fun. Thankfully, the strange woman did not make another appearance.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After work on Saturday, I decided to head out to do some research. So much had happened that my promise to Lil had nearly slipped my mind. My first stop was the library, where I combed every shelf and searched for the type of books Natalie had suggested. I was dusty and hot when I ran into my favorite librarian, Ms. Johns. Her curly brown hair was longer than when I'd seen her last, but her merry smile was the same as I remembered.

  "Daisy, I haven't seen you for ages!" she said.

  "I know," I said. "I've been so busy lately."

  "We just got some wonderful new cookbooks in," she said.

  "Thanks, but I'm looking for something a little bit different today," I replied.

  "What exactly are you looking for?" she asked.

  I lowered my voice. "Do you have any specialty stacks?"

  She frowned in puzzlement. "I don't know what you mean."

  "Stuff only certain people in Nightshade would want to read?"

  "You're going to have to narrow it down a bit," she said.

  "I'm looking for a way to break a spell," I finally blurted out. I knew I could trust her. She was a librarian, after all. It was their job to save lives with books.

  She didn't even pretend to look surprised but tapped a finger on her chin while she thought. "I've got it!" She snapped her fingers. "It's in a private collection."

  She led me to a tiny room near the children's storytime tent. A metal desk was against one wall, and books were stacked in every available space. She ignored the shelves to focus on the books in a locked display case.

  "I thought so," she said. She produced a tiny key and twisted it in the lock.

  She thumbed through a couple of texts, then settled on a large leather-bound book. She handed it to me carefully. It felt like it weighed about fifty pounds.

  "They used to cover books in human skin," she said. I nearly dropped the book I was holding.

  She laughed. "Oh, not this one."

  "Why was it locked up?" I asked.

  "This is part of my private collection," she said. "I know you'll take good care of it."

  She checked her watch. "I'll be back in about an hour to check in on you," she said. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

  I hoped so, too. I sat on the floor and started reading, turning the pages gingerly. About halfway through the large tome, I spotted something promising. I marked the page with a piece of scrap paper.

  Ms. Johns poked her head in the doorway. "Did you find anything helpful?"

  "I think I did," I said. "Can I borrow this one too?" I pointed to another book. The title was Witchcraft for Dummies, which seemed like something I could read quickly.

  "Certainly," she said.

  "And now, where are those cookbooks you mentioned?" There were some thank-you brownies in Ms. Johns's future.

  I was reading the books I'd checked out from the library when Rose knocked on my door. I was relieved to see her, because my thoughts kept turning back to the latest attack instead of staying on the words in front of me.

  "Council meeting tonight," she said.

  "Should we go?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. There was a mystery to solve, which meant it was time to attend another Nightshade City Council meeting.

  It wasn't exactly that we weren't welcome at the meetings, but my sisters and I usually tried to keep a low profile, which is why we tried to sneak in after the meeting had already started. We were minus Poppy, which was unusual. When we'd told her about the meeting, she'd murmured something vague about meeting us there.

  Rose was behind the wheel. "Did Nicholas say where tonight's meeting is?" I asked her.

  "His dad's funeral parlor," she said. Her boyfriend, Nicholas, usually filled us in on council events.

  We hadn't mentioned our destination to our parents, but we did tell them we'd be home late. Otherwise, Dad would have had Chief Mendez searching for us. I blushed as I recalled the particularly embarrassing time when the chief found Ryan and me making out in the front seat of Ryan's car. Not my finest moment.

  When we arrived at Mort's Mortuary, the parking lot was full and there were cars parked down the street and around the block too.

  "That's weird," Rose said. "Why are so many people here tonight?"

  We finally found a parking spot three blocks away and walked to the mortuary. When we got there, Nicholas came rushing down the hall toward us. "Thank god you're here," he said. "Things are out of control."

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "It's shifters versus vampires in there," he replied. "And if Dad doesn't get here soon, there's going to be a brawl."

  "Where is he?" Rose asked.

  "He's supposed to be here already," Nicholas replied. He ran his hand through his red hair.

  Someone started pounding on the front door. Nicholas flinched, then turned to Rose. "I'll be right back."

  Should we go in? I sent the thought to Rose, but she only shook her head in response. I couldn't resist opening the door and peeking in. I heard her thoughts very clearly: Oh my god.

  Our sister Poppy was sitting smack in the middle of a den of hungry-looking vampires. There was a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit who leaned on a long silver cane as he paced. He wasn't anyone I'd ever seen before, but he was handsome.

  "This will not stand," he said. He had a voice like Vincent Price, full of menace. The sound was guaranteed to send shivers down a listener's spine.

  Poppy saw us and waved. "It's about time you got here. What are you doing standing in the doorway? Come in already."

  I noticed that she was holding hands with Liam. My sister had had her heart broken not that long ago, so normally I'd be happy to see her date anyone—vampire, Were, or swamp monster—if it made her happy. I had nothing against vampires, at least in theory, but with the escalating tensions between the Weres and the vampires, I had a feeling that the Giordano family would have to choose sides. And since Ryan and Nicholas were both Weres, I had assumed we would be firmly on the side of the furries.

  Apparently, I was wrong, judging from the way Poppy clung to her ta
ll, dark, and dead date.

  "Daisy, you remember Liam," she said. She gazed adoringly into his eyes.

  I cleared my throat. "Hello, Liam," I said. "Nice to see you." I'd met him briefly, but that had been months ago.

  I tried to act casual as I scanned my sister's neck for bite marks.

  "Daisy, Rose, it's nice to see you again," Liam replied. "Poppy talks about you all the time."

  I wish I could say the same about him, I thought, then looked over at him guiltily. It wasn't his fault that Poppy never talked about him.

  Could he read my thoughts? I didn't know that much about vampires. The vampire kids at school mostly kept to themselves, didn't bother anyone, and rarely dated anyone besides other vamps.

  Some people said that vampires don't have a smell, but I could detect the faint odor of bitter violets and absinthe. It was an unaccountably attractive scent and seemed to be coming from Liam and the elder vampire.

  The Vincent Price sound-alike broke away from the group and strode over to us.

  "Grandfather," Liam said. "These are Poppy's sisters, Rose and Daisy. This is my grandfather, Count Vlad Dracul."

  The vampire bowed low at the waist. "You are Daisy Giordano?" he asked me. "I have heard of you."

  "Good things, I hope," I replied after a long pause. I was processing the fact that I was standing face-to-face with the legendary Dracula.

  "You are involved with the Mendez pup," he said.

  I bristled at his tone. And it gave me the creeps that he seemed to know an awful lot about my love life.

  "I am dating Ryan Mendez, yes, but what business is it of yours?" I was being rude, and challenging a vampire was probably stupid, but he only raised an elegant eyebrow.

  "Your loyalty is admirable," he said. "Let us hope it is not misplaced."

  I sent Rose a message. Poppy's dating Dracula's grandson? Great. Did you know about this?

  Of course not, she sent back.

  The older vampire watched us intently until Poppy nudged me. "Cut it out," she whispered. "He can read minds."

  "Most minds, my dear," Count Dracul replied. "But your sisters seem to be the exception."