The Book of Lost Souls

by Michelle Muto

  Not one of the stunned faces in the group looked like someone who’d do such a thing. She’d grown up in Northwick. She’d known most of these people all her life. “Maybe they will stop. Maybe they only wanted Mr. Nash.”

  Maybe all of this will stop.

  Nick shook his head. “I doubt that. We haven’t seen the last of this yet. All this is going to draw a lot of attention to Northwick. We’ll be lucky if this doesn’t bring in outsiders.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Ivy said. Outsider attention wasn’t a good thing for Kindreds. Too much PDMA made the Regulars nervous. When the Council found out who was behind this, she bet there would be a whole lot of memory wiping going on.

  “Outsiders will definitely mean too many questions,” Nick said.

  She couldn’t stop thinking how brutal the attack had been. Had the Nash’s been on their way into the pizzeria? She shuddered. Whoever it was wanted Mr. Nash and they knew where to find the books. “This isn’t the work of a visiting Kindred, Nick. Someone was searching for that book. It’s someone we know. Maybe even someone we trust.”

  She drew her arms more tightly against herself, trying to escape the cold seeping into her bones.

  Nick gently pulled her into his arms. “We’ll find who did this, Ivy. We will.”

  Ivy let herself lean into him. Right now, she could use a little comforting.

  Nick stroked her hair, and Ivy felt the weight of someone staring at her. She raised her head from Nick’s shoulder and her eyes met Dean’s. His brow was furrowed in disapproval and his jaw was tightly clenched.

  One of Dean’s friends pulled him away, Tara in tow. Tara seemed too busy talking to notice Dean looking over his shoulder with a pained expression Ivy knew all too well. How many times had her heart ached at the sight of Dean holding hands with Tara, at the sight of them kissing in the halls between classes? Part of her wanted to push Nick away. Another part of her wanted to keep him close. It felt—nice. She wondered if it was because of the cold night air, the horror of what had happened, or if she just liked the idea of finally making Dean notice. Another thought crept into her mind and she tried not to dwell on it. Maybe it felt nice because Nick felt nice.

  Ivy stared after Dean for a moment longer.

  “You might want to check to see if the books are still there,” Nick said. “But not here. In the car. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

  Although he’d whispered in her ear, Ivy jumped. Dean had stayed on her mind, and checking to see if the books were still safe hadn’t occurred to her. Not to mention the sound of Nick’s voice so close, so soft, so warm against her ear had lulled her into a false sense of calm.

  Her hands flew to the book bag, feeling the density, the weight of the books inside. She’d check again, once they got into the car. A quick peek. The thought of actually touching The Rise of the Dark Curse seemed revolting at best. Still, it felt like the books were there.

  “Yeah, they’re still here,” she answered, relieved.

  Nick scanned the crowd a final time, and Ivy did the same. Had the killer been here with them? Had the killer passed them on their way into Saludo’s? Were they sitting, waiting in a car in the parking lot?

  Mr. Evans pushed his way through the crowd toward the street. He looked every bit as freaked out as everyone else. Maybe more. His face was ashen and he wiped sweat from his balding forehead. Someone bumped into him and Mr. Evans shoved the bystander back, completely unlike his normally demure personality. Then he walked away, mumbling under his breath.

  The vision of Mr. Evans wearing a kilt at last night’s party was still scorched onto her brain despite the fact he now wore more normal clothing. That was, if too-short, navy slacks with cuffs and black socks were normal. His thick, black-rimmed glasses made his face resemble a frightened owl’s.

  They followed a few other people headed toward the parking lot, neither of them saying much. Nick held the Mustang’s car door open, and Ivy tossed the book bag into the back before sliding into the passenger seat. Nick’s car was much nicer and newer than her VW Bug. It was a great match for Nick—black, with charcoal grey interior and a decked-out stereo.

  “I had fun tonight,” Nick said, “Well, except for the whole impaling thing of course. Hard to believe, isn’t it? A murder, here in Northwick. The Regulars shouldn’t be the only ones freaking out about this one. Whoever has that book is a threat to the whole town.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “I’m rambling. What I mean is, I enjoyed being with you.”

  Ivy thought about their embrace, the way Nick made her laugh, and how easy it was to be with him. Would it hurt to let him help her? Would it hurt to believe in him just a little, as if he were a friend? “It was...nice. The rest of the evening, I mean. And thanks for trying to save my reputation as a lizard lover, although I’m not so sure that worked out so well.”

  But hadn’t it? Dean wasn’t the only one to have seen her with Nick tonight. He wasn’t the only one there as Nick held her close. Surely the word would be all over school come Monday.

  “So, when’s our next date?” Nick asked on their way back to her house. “It wasn’t a proper first date with a murder and all.”

  He looked at her with hopeful eyes. What could she say? Murders on first dates had to be a really bad sign. Part of her wanted to say yes. But another part felt uncomfortable. Dean obviously knew she existed now. In fact, she thought she registered a little jealously when Nick hugged her.

  “You’re not part of his circle, Ivy. No matter how pretty he thinks you are, no matter how smart, he’s still dating the most popular girl in school.”

  Ivy felt herself flush. It felt awkward discussing Dean. “I wasn’t thinking about him,” she lied.

  “You know what happens to liars, right?” Nick said. “The car interior isn’t fire-proof. Come on, Ivy. He might be dating the most popular girl in school, but in my eyes, she’s nothing compared to you. What can I say? Demons are suckers for fiery redheads. Give me a chance.” He brushed her hair from her cheek.

  Her face felt like it was sunburned, yet she couldn’t help but smile. Fortunately, she was saved from answering when Nick pulled into her driveway. The front porch and the living rooms lights were on and at the sound of Nick’s Mustang, the shadowy figure of her mother appeared in the doorway. In a small town, news traveled fast. Her mother would already know about Mr. Nash.

  “Besides, we’re a team on this, right? Let me help you find the other book. And, it wouldn’t hurt with the whole Spike thing,” Nick said with a coy smile and a shrug.

  Nick too much of a heartbreaker for you? Shayde’s words echoed in Ivy’s head. The last thing Ivy needed was to pine away for someone who didn’t have the reputation for sticking around past a few dates. She didn’t need someone like her father. She didn’t need someone to say the right things to her and not mean them. Her father had done that. He might have told Ivy and her mom that he loved them, but they were just words to him. Everything had been a lie.

  No way would she allow someone to do that ever again.

  She wanted someone normal. Someone safe and predictable. Someone who went with the flow and didn’t make waves. That person, despite his other faults—namely his attraction to Tara—was Dean.

  “You’ve got your own reputation, Nick. You date lots of girls. That’s not my type either.” The last thing she was going to do was tell him that he made her tingly and nervous. That’d only stroke his ego. Worse, she hated not being able to read him as easily as she did Dean. Besides, she was in enough trouble as it was. She didn’t need another complication, another reason for the Council or anyone else to think she was like her father. Nick had said it best—guilt by association.

  “Well, there you go doubting yourself again,” Nick said, grinning. “Or, I should say, doubting the effect you have on me.”

  She shot him a sarcastic grin. Oh yeah, Nick was smooth. Hard to tell when he was joking or if he could even be serious for
a minute. Well, he could practice his lines on someone more gullible. She opened the door and he placed a hand gently on her arm. She turned toward him and for a moment couldn’t do anything except stare into his dark, velvety eyes. “Um, thanks for the pizza,” she said finally and got out of the car. She leaned in to take the book bag.

  “You could leave them with me,” he said, placing a firm hand on top of the book bag. “I think you’ve probably worried your mom enough lately. She’d only ask more questions.”

  “No, I found them. They’re my responsibility.” She snatched the bag and closed the door, then hurried around the car.

  “Ivy,” Nick called to her. He leaned out the window. She turned and went back to him. If she hadn’t already had a crush on Dean...

  If she hadn’t had a crush on Dean? What the hell was she thinking?

  No matter how she tried, she couldn’t get the thought of what it’d be like to kiss Nick Marcelli out of her head. It was a dangerous thought. Ivy bent forward.

  “Look, Ivy. I may not be who you end up with. I’m not even who you think you want,” Nick said in a low whisper and she drew nearer to hear him better. He lightly stroked her face and an unexpected warm thrill passed through her.

  “But Ives,” he said softly, “We both know that right now, I’m just what you need.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Her mom swept her into her arms the instant Ivy walked through the front door. “Nick’s uncle called to tell me you were on your way home. Thank goodness you’re okay,” she said, squeezing Ivy tightly.

  “I’m fine Mom,” Ivy replied, trying to break free. “It was just a date.”

  She hoped her mother would find some humor in this. Instead, her mother continued to cling to her. She let herself be held for another minute or two, then tried again. “Mom, I’m still wearing my jacket and it’s really hot. Can you let go now?”

  Her mother nodded and let go, sighing heavily. “I just worry about you, Ivy. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

  Her mother hadn’t always been so fragile. She’d once been confident, strong-willed, and fun loving. A twinge of anger coupled with hurt rippled through Ivy’s chest. This was his fault.

  “We were at Saludo’s. We’d been there for nearly an hour before we heard the screaming and saw Mrs. Nash and her sister.”

  “The Nash’s were going to eat at Saludo’s?” her mother said, perplexed. It was more of a statement than a question.

  Like her mother, Ivy had been surprised that Mr. And Mrs. Nash dared to eat at an establishment owned by a Kindred. Then again, considering everything, she wasn’t. Mr. Nash probably had other motives. With the Nashs’ it was hard to tell. It could have simply been that, given Vivian’s love of food, she just wanted a slice of pizza before going elsewhere for dinner.

  “He wasn’t there on... business?” her mother asked, suspicious.

  Over the thirty years he’d been employed with the city, Mr. Nash had given many of the town residents a hard time when it came to repairs or additions. He liked to yell a lot and took great satisfaction whenever he made someone start a repair or project all over again. His favorite trick had been to overlook something on one inspection—wiring or some other building code infraction—only to find it during the next inspection when it became more difficult to fix. He took special pleasure when the home or business belonged to a Kindred.

  When the Grays were renovating Forever View, Mr. Nash had made sure to find anything and everything he could to delay the next phase. Finally, Raven’s father offered him a discount on a coffin, and it had nothing to do with money. The threat struck the right vein, so to speak, and Mr. Nash finally stopped finding excuses to impede work on the mortuary. Shayde’s mother once said Mr. Nash held a grudge for a great-great grandparent who had been killed by a Kindred during the Northwick conflict. Shayde’s father said it that deep down inside, Mr. Nash was jealous of the Kindreds. The only way to feel more powerful than them was to exert power at his job.

  “I don’t think the visit had anything to do with his work,” Ivy said. “But who knows? I guess everyone will be talking about it tonight and wondering what he might have been up to.”

  “It is ironic,” her mother said. “Seems the sisters are the ones who’ll be the talk of the town now.”

  The sisters, also known as the Gossip Queens, thought it was their duty and their right to spread their version about everything that went on in Northwick. Of course, by the time they told it, it usually had little in common with the actual events. Ivy recalled the nasty rumors the Queens had circulated when her father disappeared.

  “He’s in another country using his powers for evil!” the sisters had told nearly everyone. “He kills any of those supernatural freaks who are sent to find him, and God help any human in his path.”

  Fortunately, most of the Regulars weren’t fond of the Nash’s either and never listened. They didn’t think of Kindreds as freaks. For the most part, Regulars and Kindred got along nicely. Just another small town where everyone stuck together. But, Ivy couldn’t help but feel a bit of justice had been served with the Nash’s now on the receiving end of the talk.

  “Yeah,” Ivy said. “Considering how Mr. Nash was killed, it’ll be years before people stop talking.”

  Her mother was fidgeting again and Ivy feared another hugging, are-you-all-right jag moment. Devlin barked at Ivy and wagged his tail furiously. She bent next to him and considered picking him up to prevent another lung-crushing hug.

  Devlin wasn’t a big dog, but forty pounds of squirming, licking Beezlepup wasn’t easy to lift. Ivy loved his curled tail, squinty brown almond eyes, and feral appearance. His color was a few shades lighter auburn than her own hair, and felt softer than velvet as she stroked his back. Right now, she envied a dog’s life. Devlin didn’t have to worry about murders or spells gone wrong or what anyone other than his family thought of him.

  Her mother had regained composure and managed a weak smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay, sweetie. This is just so horrible. Apparently, whoever killed poor Mr. Nash did it in front of his wife and his sister-in-law. There weren’t any other witnesses.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Did Nick’s Uncle say anything else?” Ivy asked, as she scratched under Devlin’s chin. He leaned into her hand, eyes closed in delight.

  Her mother sighed. “He said it might have been a Kindred dressed in costume, and that the Council is calling for a town hall meeting.”

  Ivy swallowed and tried to remain calm. “Well, maybe since Halloween is so close, the killer figured no one would pay too much attention if he wore a costume. There’s always a lot of Halloween parties going on. So, maybe it could be a Regular,” Ivy suggested. The longer everyone searched in the wrong direction, the better.

  “You sure you’re okay, sweetie? You look a bit rattled.”

  Ivy shrugged, prepared for another hug. “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Oh, Ivy!” her mother said, pointing to Ivy’s book bag instead. “Tell me you didn’t bring your homework to Saludo’s. Soon, we need to talk about dating.”

  Ivy stopped petting Devlin and glanced at the book bag. She didn’t want her mother to look inside it. If her mother found the book, she’d freak. Maybe she’d reconsider what her daughter had inherited. The Council would surely think Ivy had become a dark witch. She’d changed Spike, and if Ivy surrendered the book now, they’d think she’d used it to kill Mr. Nash. After all, Ivy could be placed directly at the scene of two incidents, and she was carrying a book on the use of black magic.

  If she turned out like... like him, it would destroy her mother.

  “Aaaarrrr!” Devlin whined in his other-worldly Beezlepup voice, demanding more attention. He rolled on his back and wriggled himself along the carpet.

  “Sure, Mom. Later, okay?” She kissed her on the cheek and picked up the book bag. “It’s been a long, upsetting day and I’m really tired. Come on, Devlin.”

  Her mother nodded, and
before she could say anything more, Ivy scrambled up the stairs with Devlin on her heels.

  Ivy did feel tired, at least physically. Sleep eluded her though, and all she thought of that night was Vlad the Impaler, the mysterious woman with him, the books, and despite her best efforts, Nick.

  CHAPTER 12

  If Devlin hadn’t been so incessant about his Sunday morning walk, Ivy would have preferred to stay in bed. It was three in the morning before she’d finally fallen asleep. Now, as she and Devlin stepped outside into the brisk sunshine, Nick and the books were back on her mind. It wouldn’t be much longer before the Council figured out that someone had found Skinner’s missing books. Although there was no real proof, the Council had always suspected that her dad had been the one to burn down Skinner’s house and take the books. Since everyone drew so many comparisons to her and her father, they’d probably suspect he’d left them for his unusually talented daughter. Besides, she’d already proven she wasn’t above using forbidden magic.

  There was only one way to clear herself—find out who had The Book of Lost Souls. Fast. Which meant that she needed not only the help of her friends, but Nick’s as well. He had the advantage of knowing more about the books and their history than anyone else at this point. At least, anyone she could ask.

  Ivy and Devlin caught up with Shayde, who was waiting at the end of the sidewalk. Ivy liked that Shayde lived next door. She didn’t think she could stand it if she had to drive across town to talk privately with her best friend.

  “So, how was Nick?” Shayde asked, trying to engage in normal conversation as they walked past their houses.

  Neighbor children who’d ventured out to play in a few leaf piles were bundled in heavy jackets. What Ivy wouldn’t give to have a carefree morning like them.

  “He’s okay. I suppose you heard about Mr. Nash?”

  Shayde shook her head. “Who hasn’t? Someone in a costume. A Kindred, or so everyone thinks. Someone strong enough to lift Mr. Nash up and do and, well, you know—impale him like that. It’s gotta be spells or superhuman strength. So, the Regulars aren’t likely to be among the suspects. You seem really shook up. Did you see it happen?”