The Naughty List

by L. A. Kelley

  “All right, but promise to tell me everything after all this is over.”

  Rosalie held up her hand. “Pinky swear. You, on the other hand, promise to believe me which asks a lot because the truth sounds absolutely bonkers.”

  Marissa hooked her pinky. “I swear.”

  Once the door shut behind her, Rosalie propped herself up in the corner and settled in for a long wait. She felt ready to drop. The last few days had nearly sucked her dry. Rosalie dozed off and on throughout the day. Ross came in once. The sound of the doorknob jerked her awake and sent her heartbeat rocketing up. Without a word he left a sandwich and soda on a packing crate, winked, and left. She smiled gratefully. Penrose’s was really a great place to work, or would be once more if she had her way.

  By ten o’clock the last of the customers filtered out. By eleven o’clock the store was silent. Rosalie made her move. She slipped through the aisles toward Stephanie’s office. The door would be locked, so Rosalie planned to smash in the glass panel. She looked around for something sturdy and spotted a price scanner gun at the Christmas Land register. She hefted it experimentally, decided the weight was satisfactory, and strode with determination to Stephanie’s office.

  Light spilled out the half open door. She froze as Stephanie’s voice drifted through the small opening.

  “I told you Rosalie knows. You have to move The Book.”

  “I can’t.”

  Rosalie’s heart hammered inside her chest. The second voice was Anthony. The handsome young man she once had a crush on had a hand in this. She pressed flat against the wall, straining to hear.

  “I thought you understood,” he continued sharply. “Once the shield activated, The Book can’t be disturbed until the connection severs completely or the little puke will know. Not that Kloss can do anything about it now. I explained all this weeks ago when I brought The Book here.”

  Rosalie clenched her fists. Anthony wasn’t Stephanie’s accomplice. He stole The Book. The truth hit her like a bucketful of ice water. He’s one of the Three D’s.

  “Why not get rid of it?” Stephanie’s voice was tight. “I don’t like that thing under my nose all day.”

  “Don’t you mean under mine? You certainly didn’t hesitate to use the contents to your advantage.”

  “No…I-I guess not. It just…it makes me feel funny being so close.”

  Rosalie smirked. Stephanie was certainly rattled. She must not like her position on the Naughty List.

  On the other hand, she determined Anthony’s tone completely at ease. Not a tremor of emotion colored his words. “Relax. The connection will be gone by morning and then we’ll leave.”

  Rosalie drew in her breath. Morning? Dammit, I only have a few hours left.

  Stephanie spoke again. “How did Rosalie find out?”

  “Wikipedia?”

  “You’re not funny,” she retorted with a snap. “Someone told her.”

  “True.” His voice grew cold. “I need to find out how much she knows. We’ll pay Ms. Thatcher a little visit and ask a few questions. She’ll tell us everything. Where does she live?” Stephanie looked up Rosalie’s address. “Third floor walk-up?” Anthony mused. “How convenient. No one will be surprised if a despondent ex-emp [ondee D’sloyee throws herself out the window.”

  Rosalie’s knees trembled. Holy God, he’s crazy.

  “Y-You’re joking, right?” Stephanie choked out. “You can’t—”

  “Haven’t you figured out by now I can do any damn thing I want?”

  Chair legs drew back across the floor. Rosalie ducked out of the corridor and squatted behind the cash register in Christmas Land, keeping a frightened eye on the door. She fervently hoped Anthony wasn’t the God of Sensing Terrified Women Hidden Nearby.

  Pearce strode out with Stephanie at his heels. Near tears, her breath came in shallow gasps. “You can’t murder her—”

  Without warning, he slapped her hard across the face. Stephanie put her hand to her cheek and stared at him in horror. “Don’t talk back to me ever,” Anthony raged. “You think there’s no price to pay for what we did? Sweetheart,” he jeered, “actions always command a price and I have no intention of paying. Other than you, only one other person knows The Book is here. The only way to keep safe is to make sure any threat to security is removed. If Rosalie discovered the truth, she’s a threat. You’re not a threat to me are you?” Obviously terrified, Stephanie shook her head. Anthony shoved the trembling woman ahead of him. “I didn’t think so.”

  As their footsteps died away, Rosalie’s fear gave way to disgust. Stephanie sure didn’t plan on ringing in the yuletide festivities with a murder. Rosalie now realized with embarrassment her hand clutched the scanner gun like a weapon. She placed it on the counter with a rueful shake of the head.

  “Oh, yeah, threaten Anthony with a price check and watch him wet his pants.”

  Rosalie hightailed to Stephanie’s office. She suppressed a cheer as the door hung wide open. Obviously neither expected anyone to rifle through the contents before they returned. As she ripped open the desk drawers, a flicker of unease crossed her mind. Her apartment was near. How long before they realized no one was home? Would they wait for her? Rosalie shoved her worry ruthlessly away. She had no time to do anything except buckle down and find The Book. She tore through the office, frantically rechecking every area she and David searched before.

  The Book wasn’t there.

  Rosalie kicked at the filing cabinet. Where could it be? Stephanie was clearly antsy with the hiding place right under her nose. Rosalie jerked her head up. No…Anthony corrected her. He said The Book was under his nose. Anthony was always in Christmas Land, right outside the office corridor. When Stephanie glanced toward the back of the store, she could have meant there instead.

  Rosalie dashed out to Christmas Land. Penrose’s always erected an elaborate display area. Long aisles of merchandise were arranged in a semblance of Santa’s workshop. In the center stood a little platform for the throne surrounded by a border of artificial Christmas trees. Rosalie rummaged through the aisles. She pulled boxes from shelves and dug desperately for something she and David overlooked. Heaps of merchandise went out of the store on Black Friday, but nothing appeared moved to an unusual spot or out of place. No packages or mysterious cartons popped up. In short, not one damn thing could secretly hold an object the size of The Book.

  With mounting frustration Rosalie wiped a hand across her sweaty brow. She leaned back against Christmas Land’s check-out counter. Where was The Book? Where hadn’t she looked?

  “Well,” whispered a man’s voice in her ear. “Haven’t you been busy?”

  Rosalie stiffened. Her heartbeat ratcheted up as her eyes darted back and forth trying to pinpoint Anthony’s location. The aisles were empty. “Where are you?” Her voice came out as a croak.

  A ghostly hand yanked her hair, twisting her head painfully around. Another hand pinned an arm behind her back. She saw a shimmery blur and Anthony materialized out of the air. “You don’t look surprised to see me, Rosalie,” he murmured, jerking her head sharply.

  Over his shoulder, Rosalie saw Stephanie gape at Anthony in wild-eyed terror. “What’s the matter?” she spit out. “Didn’t know your boyfriend is an Integral?”

  “I prefer demon,” Anthony noted with contempt. “And no, she didn’t. Even back in college, Stephie was only good for one thing, and, trust me, not her intellectual capacity.”

  “So that’s where you met. You’re next, you know,” Rosalie cried out to the shaken woman. “After he’s done with me what do you think he’ll do to you?”

  “The real question is…” Anthony’s eyes swept over her with a cold measuring glance. “How do you know about Integrals? You’re not one of us.”

  Rosalie gritted her teeth. Burning pain shot up to her shoulder as the demon tightened his grip. Her spine pressed painfully against the counter. Pinned with nowhere to go, she demanded, “Tell me first how you stole The Book.”
/>   “It wasn’t hard,” he bragged. The coldness in his eyes faded away. So did Anthony. “With a little help, I bypassed security, and then all I had to do was make note of the combination. Needless to say,” mocked the disembodied voice, “no one saw me.”

  “David will find you,” Rosalie blurted out. Pressed up against the counter, something hard and knobby drilled into her back.

  Anthony rematerialized. “David was here? Well, I’ll give the pathetic little diaper credit, I never expected him to track me this far. Not that he matters. The shield is holding and the residual power of the link is nearly gone.” He released her throat, brushing his hand against her cheek. “Pop-up turned himself in, didn’t he?” Anthony smirked. “You’ll never see him again. No one will.”

  She struggled under his grip, but he held tight. “Where is The Book?” she demanded.

  His lips twisted in grim amusement. “Close by. Brian would appreciate the irony of the location.”

  Brian? Rosalie’s mind raced away. Jolly middle-aged Brian who’s also known by another family name, and who, like Ross, would probably complain of poor lumbar support and a lumpy cushion.

  Oh damn.

  Everything became clear. Rage gave Rosalie strength she didn’t know she had. Her free arm strained behind her back for the knobby thing pressed against her spine. All she needed was a few seconds head start.

  “Tell me this.” She gritted her teeth against the pain. Her fingers encircled a handle.

  Anthony tightened his grip. “What?”

  “If you’re both Integrals, how come David is so nice and you’re such a dick?” She whammed him in the head with the price scanner gun.

  Anthony fell back and Rosalie tore into Christmas Land. An angry roar bellowed behind as she reached Santa’s throne. Planting her feet on either side, she grasped the seat cushion and yanked hard. Sparks shot out knocking her back, followed by a faint whiff of sulfur. Rosalie caught a glimpse of a rectangular object stuffed into a hidden compartment before she was jerked off her feet. She slammed into the floor. Invisib [looaught le hands encircled her throat. They squeezed, cutting off the air. The lights of Christmas Land danced as her vision blurred.

  Rosalie dropped her hands. Supernatural being or not, he was so going to regret the next few seconds. She grabbed his groin and twisted as hard as she could. With a howl, the pressure on her neck disappeared.

  “You’re dead,” he roared out. “You’re both dead—”

  Rosalie kicked savagely in the general direction of the voice. Her foot came into contact twice with something large and heavy and then hit nothing but air. There came a grunt followed by a crash as several elaborately decorated Christmas trees toppled to the ground. Gasping for air, Rosalie stumbled to the throne. In a hidden crevice nestled a large leather bound volume with a solid gold clasp. Rosalie snatched up The Book, surprised at the weight. She staggered off the platform.

  All this time Stephanie hadn’t moved. She stared at the spot where the Christmas trees fell over. One of them shivered and moved as if something stirred underneath. “He’s getting up,” she moaned in terror.

  “Run!” yelled Rosalie.

  A good hard shove jumpstarted the paralyzed woman’s feet. Stephanie made a beeline for Central Receiving. Burdened by the weight of The Book, Rosalie staggered behind, legs pumping hard. Amazing how fast that woman goes in stilettos with an enraged demon on her ass, she thought. They tore through the delivery area to the back exit. Crashing noises followed a furious bellow. Anthony had escaped from under the trees.

  “H-he’s coming.” Stephanie punched in a security code, but her hands shook so badly she keyed in the wrong number. “I-I’m sorry.”

  “Again,” Rosalie wheezed out, gasping for breath.

  With a click the lock released and they bolted into the parking lot. Stephanie’s car was right by the door.

  “Anthony has the keys—”

  Rosalie’s eyes darted to Billy’s car in the far corner. “Over there!” They dashed across the asphalt, every step with the heavy book burning a painful stitch in her side. As they reached the car, the back door of Penrose’s mysteriously opened.

  “Hurry,” screamed Stephanie, “he’s outside.” Rosalie tossed The Book on the floor and gunned the engine. At the same time from across the lot Stephanie’s car roared to life.

  “He’s coming!” she wailed. “He’ll kill us both.”

  Rosalie’s foot mashed down on the accelerator. Used to the moderate purr of her economically priced hatchback, she was thrown back into her seat as the engine screamed like a tiger let loose from its cage. “What the hell is under this hood?” she cried out as the sports car peeled away leaving two long tire skids behind. They roared onto the main road, headlights closing in behind them.

  “He’s right behind us,” Stephanie screeched.

  “Oh my God, will you shut the hell up,” Rosalie barked. “I see him.”

  Anthony had only been in town a short while and couldn’t possibly know the city as well as Rosalie. If she could stay ahead of him for a few precious seconds, they had a chance. She cut through the rear of a shopping mall. The headlights followed growing closer and closer in the rear view mirror. Rosalie slammed on the breaks and made a sharp turn into a vacant lot and then floored it and flew out the other side, holding her breath as the car’s bottom scraped the curb. She took the next hard right and then barreled down an alley and onto a side street.

  The headlights disappeared. Two more sharp turns and then Rosalie pulled behind a convenience store near the entrance to the freeway. She cut the engine and turned off the lights. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard the knuckles were white.

  Stephanie swallowed hard. “D-Did we lose him?”

  “For now.” Her heart hammered wildly. “We’ll sit here for a few minutes to make sure.” Rosalie shot a furious look at the pale-faced woman. “How the hell did you get involved in all this?”

  “I-I knew Anthony in college. He was fun…always had lots of money…threw great parties. A few weeks ago he came to my door with a box of candy and that thing.” She glared at The Book on the floor. “H-He needed a place to stay, and then he showed me what it can do.”

  Rosalie propped The Book against the steering wheel. Unfastening the clasp, she rifled through the first few pages. They were blank. “There’s nothing here,” she gaped in surprise.

  Stephanie shifted anxiously in her seat and scooted as far away from The Book as possible. “Keep looking.”

  Rosalie stared at the page. Gradually, blankness gave way to rapidly flickering images galloping past her eyes at a frantic pace. Reading was like trying to interpret a document on a computer screen while scrolling through at top speed. “Nothing makes sense.”

  “You have to use the index.”

  “Index?”

  She hunched forlornly in her seat. “Say a name.”

  “Stephanie Crowder.”

  Stephanie flinched as The Book jerked in Rosalie’s hands. Pages flipped by at dizzying speed before The Book fell open on another blank page. No—not blank. Blood red letters emerged one at a time at the top of the cream-colored vellum. N-a-u-g-h-t-y L-i-s-t. The words glowed slightly as if lit from within.

  A deep resonant voice filled the car’s interior. “Using names and personal data supplied from The Book, Stephanie Crowder blackmailed Randall Penrose to secure the promotion as store manager. Stephanie Crowder’s additional offences include pilfering funds from the cash office, lying to Marissa Garrett—”

  “What lie?” Rosalie demanded. Stephanie stared guiltily out the window as words on the page shifted, blurred and an additional paragraph appeared. The voice continued. “Stephanie Crowder informed Marissa Garrett that Penrose’s board of directors rejected her new inventory tracking system. Stephanie never produced the system for the board’s review, since installation would prove she stole from Penrose’s. To escape further detection, Stephanie scheduled Marissa Garrett for termination.”

&n
bsp; Rosalie’s blood pressure shot up like a geyser at Yellowstone. She slammed The Book shut. “Get out of the car.”

  Stephanie froze.

  “Now,” Rosalie growled, “or I will drag you out by your over-bleached hair.”

  Stephanie scurried out the door. “W-What do I do now?” she blubbered.

  Rosalie started the engine. “I couldn’t possibly care less, but don’t ever go back to Penrose’s.” She pulled out of the parking lot and one block later steered the car down the on-ramp of the expressway. The Book was safe again. Now all she had to do was find one E.L.F hidden in a supernatural prison in the middle of a city of eight million people.

  “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy,” she muttered to herself, merging into the traffic flow headed north. “New York City, here I come.”

  Chapter Eight

  David shifted his weight on the cot and grunted. The damn manacles burned like fire.

  “You okay?” Brian’s concerned voice drifted over from the cell next door.

  “I’m fine, Dad.” Guilt filled David. He was younger and stronger and had a hard time with the manacles. The older Kloss had battled the pain for weeks. “Dad, I—”

  “If you apologize one more time,” he said with mock seriousness, “I’ll ground you.”

  David jumped off the cot and ambled over to the bars. Despite his discomfort, he chuckled. “Still using that? You know you can’t ground a teleporter. That threat didn’t work even when I was a kid. Besides, the manacles beat you to it. How has Mom put up with you all these years?”

  “I often ask myself the same question. Life with an Integral certainly isn’t easy.” He paused. “Speaking of human women and why they put up with us, tell me more about Rosalie.”

  “What can I say, other than I’ll never see her again?” Bitter depression enveloped him. He only knew the girl a few hours, why did the knowledge she’d disappeared from his life hurt more than the manacles?

  “Never is a very long time. Come on. Tell me. What is she like?”