by Meg Cabot
“It’s seemed more like a punishment than a reward most days …” he said, his tone one of bitter resignation. Then his gaze lifted to meet mine, and his voice changed. “… at least until I found you.”
The crackling heat in his eyes was nothing compared to the warmth that washed over me after he lowered his lips to mine. I didn’t resist, closing my eyes and allowing myself to relax for what seemed like the first time in days.
Killed a man. That’s all he’d done.
It wasn’t nothing, of course. Killing a man was still an appalling thing to do.
Yet it was hardly as deplorable a crime as he’d been leading me to believe he’d committed, with all his insistence that I’d hate him if I ever found out the truth. He hadn’t lit a bag full of kittens on fire, and then callously stood back and watched them burn alive. He’d merely led a mutiny at sea, and in doing so had killed his own captain … in self-defense.
Of course I only had John’s word to go on about this. What I ought to have done, I realized, was read the book Mr. Smith had given me. Not that I didn’t believe John, but it was always good to —
I opened my eyes, realizing something was wrong. He’d stopped kissing me.
“Here, miss. You dropped this,” said a surprisingly familiar, high-pitched voice at my elbow, and a second later, the hairband I’d let fall to the sidewalk was presented to me on an open palm.
When I looked down to see who was speaking, I was astonished to see it was Henry. Little Henry Day from the Underworld.
I stared at him in confusion, not understanding for a full five seconds or so what I was seeing. He was standing right next to me, wearing the exact same clothes in which I’d last seen him.
Except at Coffin Fest in Isla Huesos, he did not actually look out of place. He looked like every other boy there dressed as a nineteenth-century pirate … and there were quite a few of them. Their costumes were only not quite as authentic as Henry’s.
“What…?” I exclaimed, wonderingly. “How…?”
Frank, whose presence I somehow hadn’t noticed until that moment, spoke up behind him.
“Now this,” he said, tipping the red cup he held towards me, “is very good stuff. We’ve got to get Mr. Graves to learn how to make this.”
Mr. Liu, standing beside him, did not look so convinced. He wasn’t drinking. He was scanning the crowd with a critical gaze.
“Too many pirates,” he said disapprovingly. “I do not see the appeal in dressing like a pirate. And what have they done to the lighthouse?”
I whirled back towards John. “What are they doing here?” I asked, stunned. “I thought —”
“Hello,” John said to his crew, one of his dark eyebrows quirked up. “Kind of you to give us a moment to ourselves.”
“Didn’t want to disturb you,” Frank said. He’d purchased a deep-fried turkey leg to go with his beverage, and was gnawing on it. “You looked otherwise occupied.”
“Henry had other ideas,” Mr. Liu said, in his deep voice.
“This is yours, isn’t it?” Henry asked, shoving my hairband at me. “I saw you drop it.”
“Yes, it is, Henry, thank you so much,” I said, taking it from him. I turned my wondering eyes back to John.
“I thought,” John said quietly, “that after what happened at the cemetery sexton’s, it might be a good idea to seek backup. Isn’t that what they call it these days?”
“Yes,” I said. “Only I thought they can’t come here —”
“Not on their own, no,” John said. “While you were upstairs with your mother, and your uncle was on the telephone with your cousin, I went and got them, and brought them back here. Not that I wasn’t impressed by your bravery with Mike,” he added, with a sly smile. “But next time there may not be a flowerpot so handy. And Mr. Liu can be a very intimidating presence, when he chooses.”
Mr. Liu looked modest, though Frank objected, “What about me? I can be intimidating, too. Tell him, Miss Oliviera. I intimidated you, when you first saw me, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t,” Henry said. “Typhon did.”
I shook my head, too stunned to speak.
“They’ve been looking for your cousin,” John said, ignoring them. “Unsuccessfully so far, I’m sorry to report. Alex was in some duress in the video they saw on your phone, so it’s possible he is here, and they’ve walked right by him. He may look quite different.”
Remembering Alex’s dirt-and-tear-smeared face, I fervently hoped he did look quite different … and that we found him in time to make sure he stayed that way.
Realizing suddenly that a member of John’s crew was missing, I asked, “Where’s Mr. Graves?”
“Someone had to stay behind,” John said, in what I noted was a careful tone. “Mr. Graves volunteered. He’s never been fond of Isla Huesos.”
What John left unspoken was that Mr. Graves had had to stay behind — not because of his dislike of the island, or even because of his blindness (which hadn’t seemed to me to hamper his activities one bit), but because someone had to tend to the souls of the departed in John’s absence … and face the consequences if we did not return in a timely fashion.
I swallowed, remembering what Mr. Graves had said about pestilence.
“Thank you,” I murmured gratefully, slipping a hand into John’s.
“It’s too soon to thank me,” he said. “We haven’t found him. Mr. Liu, any sign of a coffin?”
“Not yet,” Mr. Liu replied, in his stoic manner. “But the farther down the street you go, the more people there are. That’s where the music is.”
“And the food,” Frank said, raising his turkey leg.
John glanced questioningly at me.
After bending to separate Hope from her ear of corn — she was vocal in her protest, but it was for her own good. The orange tabby had returned — I scooped my hair back into the elastic band, and said, “Let’s go.” I sounded much braver than I felt.
I needn’t have worried about anyone noticing John and me, however. Even though, as Mr. Liu had pointed out, there was a startling number of people dressed as pirates, all eyes seemed drawn to him, Henry, and Frank. Especially Frank. With his authentic tattoos and scars, all he was missing, really, to complete his ensemble was a parrot and an eye patch.
Maybe this was why the first person who actually did know me walked straight by before she finally noticed me … because she was busy staring at Frank.
“Kayla?” I asked cautiously, because I almost hadn’t recognized her, either. At school, we had a dress code. What Kayla had on definitely defied it. She was wearing a long white dress that flattered her dark skin tone, her waist cinched to an impossibly small size with a black velvet bustier that was pushing her sizeable breasts to gravity-defying heights. Over her bare shoulders she’d thrown a purple velvet cape that matched the purple streaks in her wildly curling black hair, and she’d glued rhinestone stars to the corners of her dramatically made-up dark eyes.
“Wait …” The girl stopped in her tracks as she blinked back at me. “No way. Pierce? Oh, my God, chickie! Gimme a hug!”
I pushed her arms down before she could throw them around me, not wanting to attract even more attention than she already had with her screams, then dragged her from the center of the street to an empty space between two booths, one selling more frozen fruit slices on a stick, the other selling T-shirts that said I Survived Coffin Fest on the Island of Bones.
“Oh, my God, chickie,” Kayla said, grabbing my arms. “Where have you been? Do you have any idea how freaked out I was when you didn’t show up at two in the parking lot the other day like you said you would? You told me to call the police if you didn’t show, so I did. And then the next thing I knew, your grandma was running around, saying some boy kidnapped you.”
Her dark eyes sparkling — the fake gemstones actually paled in comparison — she looked over at John, who’d paused in front of the frozen-fruit stand to wait for me. It must have been as obvious from the surreptit
ious looks he was throwing in my direction as it was from the way my cheeks heated up in response to those looks that we knew each other.
“Wait, that’s him?” Kayla cried, delighted. “That’s the guy? Oh, my God, he could kidnap me any day of the week. You … are … so … lucky.”
She emphasized each word with a punch to my shoulder, then stood there grinning at John, twirling a strand of her dark curly hair around one finger, each nail of which she’d painted white with black zebra stripes.
“Kayla,” I said, reaching up to massage my shoulder. She punched pretty hard. “He didn’t kidnap me. He —”
“Duh. Who’s his friend?” she wanted to know, referring to Frank, who was pretending not to notice that she was looking at him by negotiating a purchase of frozen fruit on a stick for Henry. “I saw him from way off and was like, ‘What’s with the smokin’ hottie with the scar?’ Seriously, I would not mind having a hunk like him kidnap me, either.”
“Kayla,” I said. I didn’t want to rain on her good time — from the look of the sky, that was going to happen any minute regardless — but I needed her to hold off on the boy talk for two minutes so I could clear up some family business. “As you have clearly figured out by now, I’m experiencing some … personal problems at the moment. And I really need your help.”
“Yeah?” Kayla hadn’t taken her gaze off Frank. “Well, introduce me to your pirate friend over there, and I’ll help you out.”
“I thought you liked Alex,” I said, a little disappointed.
She dropped her finger from her hair and gave up playing sexy eyes with Frank, turning towards me instead. “Seriously, you think you have personal problems? Your cousin is turning into a freak and a half. He asked me to meet him here at this thing, which I did, but will he dance with me, or even buy me a drink? No. He didn’t even dress up, which is traditional at this soirée. It’s like all he wanted was someone to sit with so he wouldn’t look like such a loser being all by himself. It’s lunch at school every day all over again, basically. He’s just sitting there —”
My eyes widened. “Wait. You know where Alex is right now?”
“Of course I know where he is,” Kayla said. “I just ditched him. Not that he’s even noticed I’m gone, I’ll bet. If this was supposed to be a date, your cousin Alex is sadly delusional —”
I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Kayla,” I said. “If you take us to Alex, I’ll introduce you to Frank. Please, it’s very important. I think Alex is in a lot of trouble. More trouble than me, even.”
Kayla looked me up and down. “Now that’s a lot of trouble,” she said. “Because according to the paper, you’re in one million dollars’ worth of trouble. Do you know what I could do with one million dollars? Not that I would ever turn you in, but I could open my own hair and nail salon … no, with that kind of money, ten salons —”
“Please,” I said, giving her wrist a desperate squeeze.
“All right,” Kayla said, with a shrug. “Jeez, calm down, I’ll do it. Why not? I don’t let the girls out very often” — she was referring to her breasts, which she was planning to have surgically reduced when she turned eighteen because, she said, her knees hit her nipples when she rode her bike — “so when I do, someone ought to appreciate them. Lord knows your cousin doesn’t.” She looked back over at Frank. For money to purchase the frozen fruit slices on a stick for Henry, I saw that Frank was using a silver Spanish dollar dug from the pocket of his leather trousers.
“Of course it’s real, you bloody git,” Frank said to the young man behind the fruit cart, who had apparently questioned the legitimacy of this form of currency. “That’s a genuine piece of eight. I could buy your whole cart with it.”
Great, I thought, sarcastically. John and his crew were doing an excellent job of blending in.
Kayla appeared to be thinking along similar lines, since she asked, “Where are those guys from, anyway?”
“Here,” I assured her.
“Really?” She looked skeptical. The fruit vendor had apparently decided the piece of eight was authentic, and was surrendering more fruit on a stick than Henry could carry. “Because I’d have remembered seeing him around here. And I don’t want to get into some whole long-distance thing. Those never work out.”
I smiled, meeting John’s gaze.
“Oh,” I said, “you never know.”
Kayla, her hand resting on the crook of Frank’s elbow, led us down the crowded street.
“I’m not sure if this is the best idea,” John said, watching as Frank lifted Kayla’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
“You are enchanting, fair damsel,” Frank said.
“I bet you pirates say that to all us fair damsels,” I heard Kayla say with a giggle in response.
“It’s okay,” I reassured John. “I think Kayla can handle herself around guys. Even guys like Frank.”
“But what about Furies?” John asked, his gaze serious. “Will she be able to handle herself around them?”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. “Knowing her, she probably can, actually.”
“Well, keep an eye on your necklace,” he said. “I don’t like that we’ve been out in the open for so long and there hasn’t been a single sign of them. They must know by now that we’re here. So where are they?”
I glanced around. Everywhere I looked were happy revelers, enjoying themselves, while overhead, lightning continued to illuminate the clouds, and thunder grumbled.
“Maybe that’s it,” I ventured. “We’re out in the open. The Furies don’t want to risk attracting too much attention.”
“Maybe,” John conceded. “Or maybe it’s the quiet before the storm.”
I looked up at the night sky, then down at my necklace. The diamond around my throat was the same purplish dark gray as the heavy clouds. He may have been right.
“Pierce?”
An attractive young couple was standing in front of us, their arms around each other. He had smeared ghoulish gray pancake makeup all over his face, and was dressed in an Isla Huesos High School Wreckers football uniform, complete with shoulder pads. She was wearing an IHHS Wreckers cheerleading uniform, carrying red and white pom-poms, and had a vampire bite painted on her neck, oozing fake blood.
“Oh, my God, Pierce!” the girl cried. “It’s me, Farah, Farah Endicott, and Seth Rector.” She pointed to her boyfriend, laughing. “I can’t believe our costumes are that good! Can you believe it, babe?” She grinned up at Seth. “Pierce didn’t even recognize us. And she’s the one who’s supposed to have gone missing!”
Farah and Seth had a good laugh over that one. They were both grasping red cups in their hands, and while I didn’t know for sure what was in them, I had a feeling from the near-hysterical tone of their laughter that the drinks were stronger than soda. John and I stood there while ahead of us, Kayla and Frank paused in the street, glancing back at us curiously. Mr. Liu, also observing the encounter, steered Henry off to the side of the street. The two of them pretended to be examining a stand hawking personally engraved shells. But really, they were watching Farah and Seth.
“Yeah,” I said, acting as if I found the situation as hilarious as Farah did. “That whole missing thing turns out to have been a big misunderstanding. Obviously. Since I’m standing right here in front of you.”
“Oh,” Farah cried, laughing even harder. “That’s so funny! Of course you’re not missing anymore. So, who’s your friend?”
“This is John,” I said, purposefully leaving off his last name. For all I knew, Farah and Seth were going to run off after this to call my dad and try to collect the million-dollar reward he was offering for my safe return. The less information I gave them, the better. “John, these are some friends of mine, Farah Endicott and Seth Rector.”
John’s face, as it always did, shut down when he heard the name Rector. He stood and glared at the two of them unsmilingly. “How do you do?” he asked stiffly, not extending his right hand. It was full of extra froz
en fruit on a stick he’d offered to hold for Henry, which I’d thought was sweet. His other arm was wrapped around my waist.
“Well, I do very well, thank you,” Seth said, in a snooty British accent that I guess was supposed to be some kind of imitation of John and that I didn’t find particularly funny. John didn’t even have an accent to me, either because I was used to the way he talked or because he’d spent so much time around dead Americans it had faded to be barely noticeable.
But Seth managed to crack Farah up, and the two of them snickered for about thirty seconds before Seth regained control of himself, then said to John, “No, seriously, dude, it’s cool. Nice to meet you. You don’t look like a serial killer or whatever it is they’re trying to make you out to be on the news.”
Farah smacked him playfully on the chest and said, “Babe! Kidnapper. He’s a kidnapper!”
“My bad,” Seth said.
“Oh, my God,” Farah said, her blue eyes going wide. “Dude, I love your necklace. Where did you get that?” She was about to lift the diamond that hung from my neck when I felt the muscles in the arm John had around my waist tense. He pulled me back a step before she could touch it.
Which was a good thing, since the stone really was cursed, exactly as Henry had said. The last living person who’d touched it was Mr. Curry, a jeweler who’d accused me of stealing it and tried to have me arrested.
This hadn’t worked out too well for him, thanks to John, who’d objected to his rough treatment of me and caused his heart to stop.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said quickly. “I got it at the mall, I guess. It’s fake.”
“Well, duh,” Farah said, laughing. “If it were real it would be worth, like, as much money as your dad was offering as a reward for finding you —”
According to Mr. Curry, the Persephone Diamond was worth about seventy-five times that, actually. I didn’t say so out loud, however.
“It’s so funny, because a bunch of us were just joking that if we saw you, we would, like, totally turn you in for all that cash,” Farah went on, with a giggle. “But then we found out your dad canceled the reward.”