Eclairs, Scares & Haunted Home Repairs

by Erin Johnson

  Our little group eased apart, no one particularly eager to explore the space. I crinkled my nose at the rotten smell that grew stronger as I edged closer to a couple rows of shelves.

  Dusty jars of home-canned goods lined the rough boards, and judging by their smell, they’d outrun their expiration date. Roots crept between the boards of the walls, and dusty furniture covered in sheets crowded the floor space. I glanced right and left, waiting for one of them to move.

  “Can you stop jerking side to side?” Iggy grumbled. “I’m getting dizzy.”

  I bit my lip. “Sorry.”

  I frowned as my eyes landed on the only piece of furniture not covered in a sheet. A red velvet settee sat in the center of the room, its legs ornately carved and gilded gold.

  It had probably been lovely in its prime. But now moths had left big patches of the velvet threadbare. I edged closer, and something glinted in Iggy’s lantern light. “Did you see that?” I murmured.

  “What?! Where?!” Iggy’s head jerked right, then left.

  I smirked. “A little on edge?”

  Iggy’s flames died down a little. “No. You are.”

  I crept closer to the settee, stepping around a metal trunk. Yann and Annie moved past me, heading for the back corner of the basement. I moved Iggy around until I caught the glint again. “There.” I pointed.

  Something had fallen behind the cushion. Curious now, I reached the chaise and perched on the edge of it, not wanting to get the seat of my jeans too dusty. Using Iggy’s light, I spied a golden chain, just barely peeking out between the seat cushion and the arm.

  Gingerly, I pinched the chain and pulled. A necklace swung back and forth in my hand, and I squinted at it. As it slowed, I made out a golden oval at the end of the chain, engraved with roses.

  “What’sss that?”

  I looked up as Sam moved over.

  I shook my head. “A locket, I think. I just found it.” I handed Iggy over to Sam, who held him aloft for me, and dug my thumbs into the locket’s seam. I pried with all my might—but it didn’t open. “It’s stuck.”

  “Everything okay?”

  I glanced up and found Hank drawing near. I nodded. “I found something.” I held up the locket to the firelight. “But it won’t open.”

  Maple and Wiley wandered over, too. “Oh.” Maple grinned. “Maybe it’s one of those enchanted lockets. They were really popular when I was in middle school.” She perched on the edge of the cushion beside me. “You had to kiss it to open it.”

  I lifted a brow. “Seriously?”

  She giggled. “Yeah. It’s what all the guys got the girls for Valentine’s Day.”

  Huh. So they celebrated Valentine’s. Of all the holidays….

  Wiley smirked. “I guess I know what to get you for Bruma.”

  Maple rolled her eyes. “I was fourteen.”

  I eyed the gold locket dubiously. I’d found it between the cushions of a bug-eaten couch in a dark, dank basement. I wasn’t really in the mood to kiss it. Nose scrunched, I brought the locket closer to my face. Curiosity got the best of me. I shot Maple a side-eyed glance. “If this is some sort of prank….”

  She widened her eyes. “No!”

  “Okay….” I turned back to the locket.

  “Pucker up,” Iggy sang.

  Setting my shoulders, I jerked my head forward and gave the locket a quick peck. As it swung between my fingers, a swirl of sparkly gold magic spiraled around it and the clasp sprung open. “Ah!” I looked from Maple to Hank, delighted. “It worked.”

  Annie and Yann joined us and stood behind the settee, looking over my shoulder as I examined the locket. On the right hand side, an inscribed message read: “To Emi. From Daichi.”

  Maple, whose cheek was practically up against mine, frowned. “Not very romantic.”

  My breath caught as I looked at the left side. A moving, magical photograph of a middle-aged man in a dark suit, his hair slicked back and eyes dark, stared back at me. Iggy’s flame guttered and he let out a yelp.

  “What is it?” Hank crouched down in front of me and looked up at my face. I gulped and turned the locket around so he could see. “It’s a picture of Daichi, the prosecutor who owned this house.” I gulped and my throat grew tight. “He’s the man Iggy and I saw hanging in the tower.”

  28

  The Locket

  Maple, Wiley, and I turned down the stone-paved road just behind Main Street. The others had opted to stay behind and keep working on the house. I wanted to feel Emi out about the locket, and Maple had been only too eager to get away from the “haunted house,” as she now called it. Wiley pretended to be escorting us, but I’d seen how pale he turned when I’d told them Daichi had been the glowing green figure I’d seen hanging in the tower on the first day.

  The Ohayou Diner lay straight ahead, with the Oishi Bakery right beside it. I couldn’t help throwing a glare at the bakery as we passed. Who cared if that sweet pancake sandwich with the cherry and matcha cream center had been delicious? Those twins were up to something. And with any luck, tonight we’d catch them at it.

  It was late afternoon already, so a hand-painted Closed sign hung in the front window of the bakery. We moved to the glass door nearly right beside it. A Closed sign hung in the diner’s door, too. I ignored it and pulled on the handle anyway, pleased when it swung open.

  The bell jingled as we stepped inside. The previously bustling place lay quiet and empty, all the chairs magically hovering above the tables as an enchanted mop and broom swept across the floor.

  “Oh, er, sorry.” I apologized to the mop and hopped over a wet streak. I led the way toward the back counter and its empty glass display cases. “Hello?”

  Loud pop music blared from the swinging double doors that led to the kitchen. I spun and raised my brows at Wiley and Maple. “Should we?” I dug my hand in my jeans pocket and gripped the oval locket. We had a good excuse for being here, I reminded myself.

  I cleared my throat and tried again, louder. “Hello? Emi?”

  Giggles floated through the door—Mai. I shrugged at my friends, then pushed through the half door to the space behind the counter, and then passed through the double doors. Maple and Wiley followed right behind me.

  Butcher block counters and bright white cupboards lined the walls, a brick pizza oven set into the one on the left. Mai sat at a tall stool on one side of the big center island, legs swinging, and laughed while Emi stood on the other side.

  The slender woman danced, tossing her head side to side, to the fast-paced music blaring from an old-fashioned Victrola—that clearly played the current hits. Splotches of white flour stained her apron and her hands plaited a loaf of bread as she sang along, off-key, to the music. I grinned until Mai swung her gaze our way and blinked in surprise.

  “Mom.”

  Emi looked up and froze when she spotted us, all mirth immediately gone. She straightened and smoothed back her hair. “What are you doing here?”

  I cleared my throat and had opened my mouth to explain about the locket when I registered the ten other loaves of plaited bread resting in neat lines on baking sheets. I frowned. “I didn’t think you sold bread at the diner.”

  Emi’s eyes darted to the bread. She dusted off her hands and turned to face us. “We don’t.”

  “We used to,” Mai chimed in, swinging her feet.

  Emi let out a little sigh. “We used to, it’s true.”

  “We stopped when Yoshi and Yori opened their bakery.” Mai kicked her feet.

  “Couldn’t handle the competition?” Iggy sniped.

  I flashed my eyes at him. “Iggy, don’t be rude.”

  Emi pressed her lips together. “Something like that.” She looked at the plaited dough in front of her. They were ready to prove, then bake. “These are just for our family.”

  I blinked. That was a lot of bread for a family of three—and very professionally made, as well. Whenever my friends and I made bread for ourselves to eat, we didn’t go to the tr
ouble of plaiting or doing anything fancy, unless it was a special occasion.

  Mai frowned at her mother. “But we—”

  Emi shot her a look. “Why don’t you go upstairs and tell your brother we have guests.”

  I held up a hand. “Oh, we won’t be here long.” I fished the locket out of my pocket and stepped across the tiled floor with it held aloft, swinging. “I found this today and wanted to return it to you.”

  Emi’s eyes grew round as she gazed at the locket. Her breath caught and she stepped back. “Where did you find that?”

  I glanced at the necklace. Was it cursed or something? I held it out to her. “In the basement.”

  The blood drained from her face and she shot a hand out, gripping the wooden edge of the countertop to steady herself. “In the—” Her chest heaved and her wide eyes flicked to my face. “Did you find… anything else?”

  I frowned. “There’s a lot of furniture and boxes down there.” I shrugged. “You’re welcome to any and all of it.” It suddenly registered that those were all her possessions—left behind in her haste to get out of the house she believed was haunted.

  She shook her head, but reached out and slowly took the locket from me. “No.” Still pale, she pressed her lips together. “No, there are no happy memories in that house.”

  Mai stood on the rung of the stool and leaned across the island, angling to get a better look at the gold locket. “Is that from Dad?”

  Emi closed her hand tight around the locket, hiding it from view, her knuckles red and white with the strength of her grip. “Yes. It is.” Her nostrils flared as she gave me a hard look. “Was there anything else?”

  I licked my lips, a little surprised at the dismissal. I supposed I’d been expecting her to be grateful, or maybe sentimental about the necklace. Clearly, it had been a special gift from her deceased… or disappeared… husband. “Oh, uh—” I glanced back.

  Maple gave a tight shake of her head.

  I turned back to Emi. “Nope. That was it.”

  Emi slightly inclined her head. “Thank you for bringing this by. You can show yourselves out?”

  The bell on the door tinkled as we stepped out onto the street, the shadows already growing longer. Yoshi and Yori stepped out the door of the bakery a moment later. Yori glared at me, then turned and locked the door behind him.

  “Snooping around again?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Yes. But he didn’t know that. “Where are you off to?”

  He threw his arm around his twin’s shoulders and they shot me matching sneers. “To the Spotted Owl.”

  “Yeah, to the Owl,” Yoshi echoed.

  Wiley crossed his arms. “You’re going drinking—again?” He chuckled. “Man, I used to go out all night—”

  Maple poked his ribs. “And you’d be late to work the next morning.”

  He nodded. “That’s my point. How do you guys get your baking done?”

  Yori glared at him. “We’re very efficient—so mind your own business!”

  “Yeah!” Yoshi leaned forward. “Mind your own business.”

  I glared at their backs as they sauntered down the street, arm in arm, humming a song. That’s exactly what we intended to do. Mind our future business that night with a stakeout.

  29

  Stakeout

  “Brr.” I shivered, and Hank scooted closer, hugging me tighter to his side. His gloved hand rubbed up and down my shoulder, warming me. I rested my head on the puffy shoulder of his jacket, grateful, and yawned.

  It was past midnight, and Hank, Francis, and I sat on one of the roof peaks (Yann had assured us it was the most structurally sound part). Well, Hank and I sat. Francis hovered.

  I shifted and eyed the vampire and his magically levitating self enviously. Sitting on the pointy ridge of a roof was even less comfortable than I’d imagined. And as a thick layer of mist crept over the wrought iron gate to the cemetery and drifted across the lot, I shivered again. Even in the middle of summer, nights were chilly up here in the mountains.

  Especially since we couldn’t move around to warm up. An owl hooted from somewhere nearby. It’d been hours since we climbed up here under the cover of darkness, dressed in head-to-toe black. After much discussion, we’d decided that the three of us would go, since we could post up on the roof for the best view of things and transform into flying creatures. Everyone else would have a hard time getting down quickly to catch an intruder.

  I’d even left Iggy at home, despite his protests. We couldn’t risk anyone seeing his light, even with the shutters of his lantern drawn. I turned my head and stifled a yawn against Hank’s shoulder. We still hadn’t seen anyone.

  “How long do you think this stakeout’s going to last?” I whispered.

  Francis turned his pale face, with its large, aquiline nose, my way. “Please stop calling it a stakeout.” He dragged a white, long-fingered hand through his black, slicked-back hair. “I’m not a fan of the word ‘stake.’”

  I rolled my eyes and he smirked. Right. Like anything scared Francis. I opened my mouth to retort, but the vampire held up a finger with a long, pointed nail and grew eerily still. I froze, also, listening.

  A little shuffle, a faint twig snap. Hank’s eyes widened, and I followed his gaze to our left, out toward the street.

  Two figures, clad, like us, all in black, slunk through the shadows toward our house.

  The hairs rose on the back of my neck, and Hank and I exchanged eager glances. Yoshi and Yori—we knew it! I leaned back to get a better look. One of the chimneys hid us from view—but also made it tough to see.

  I leaned closer to Francis. “Should we—”

  He shook his head at me. His pupils had grown round and larger, so that the black of them took up nearly his entire eye. I shrank back. “We wait.”

  Oh. I clung to Hank. A vampire in hunting mode was… er… unsettling, even if he was your friend.

  The two disguised figures crept across the lawn. Their footsteps sounded as they climbed the porch steps and disappeared from view. Hank half rose, but again, Francis held up a pale hand. “Wait.”

  I froze, listening hard, barely breathing.

  Crash!

  The sound of glass shattering broke the quiet of the night. I gritted my teeth together as hot anger rose up inside me. Those jerks were lucky the lots on this street were so big and the houses scattered so far apart. None of the neighbors had heard their destruction before. But guess what, punks. I narrowed my eyes. Your luck just ran out.

  “Imogen?”

  “Huh?” I looked up and found Hank frowning at me. “Did you hear Francis? We’re gonna transform and catch them now. You ready?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” I shook myself. Not the time to be daydreaming.

  Francis nodded, and in a tornado of smoky black magic whirled into bat form. He flew up, silhouetted against the moon, squeaking. I closed my eyes, pulled power from the creeping mist, and whirled into a fluttery moth. I regretted the decision immediately. Did bats eat moths? Hank, who’d chosen to become a brown owl, beat his powerful wings beside me.

  As we sped over the peaked roof and down toward the ground, I couldn’t help grinning to myself. A bat, a moth, and an owl wing into a bar….

  My levity evaporated as I hovered a couple of feet above the layer of mist that blanketed the ground and stared at the porch. One of the twins swung a bat at another window and shattered the glass. I flinched, dipping and then fluttering back up. The other one held a wand, red letters forming on the wall in front of him. You’ll DIE in this hou—

  I pulled from the mist again, and in a dizzying tumble felt the solid ground beneath my feet. I straightened, jaw set, as Francis and Hank materialized beside me.

  The one with the bat looked behind him and froze. Half his face was covered with a black ski mask. He let out a little yelp and the other figure turned, mid-letter, eyes widening when he spotted us.

  Francis crouched, and his lips curled back, revealing his needle-like fangs.
The vampire hissed, and I cringed back, stumbling into Hank, who caught me against him.

  The two trespassers leapt over the railing of the porch, dropped to the ground, and took off, heading for the cemetery. Francis coiled up, then launched himself after them, flying over the ground to tackle them from behind.

  “Oof!”

  A loud cry rang out and then silence. Hank and I dashed around the side of the house.

  Francis hovered above the twins as the two rolled to their backs and scrambled away, displacing the mist that curled around them. Their wide eyes stayed fixated on the ferocious-looking Francis. Before they went far, the vampire shot his pale hands out, and in one swift motion yanked off their ski masks.

  I gasped at the two cowering figures. It hadn’t been Yoshi and Yori at all. I gaped at Hank, then turned and frowned. “Emi and Haru?”

  The two stayed on the ground, but shot us wild-eyed looks, their chests heaving.

  30

  The Affair

  “Please.” Haru, his wavy hair disheveled and glasses askew, held up a hand. “Let us explain.”

  Francis’s chest heaved and saliva dripped from his sharp canines. He looked to Hank, his eyes nearly entirely black. I resisted the urge to shriek and runaway. I cast a side-eyed look at Haru and Emi, sprawled on the misty ground. I almost felt bad for them.

  Hank gave a curt nod and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Explain yourselves.”

  Haru’s wide eyes darted to the terrifying Francis. Hank sighed and lifted his brows at Francis. “It’s okay, you can back down.” He gave the two vandals a hard look. “For now.”

  In half a second, Francis straightened and smoothed back his dark hair. His fangs hid behind his lips, eyes back to normal. “As you wish.”

  I shuddered. It was scary how quickly he could go from predator to sophisticated gentleman, and the other way around.

  Haru put an arm around Emi. Her cheeks shone wet with tears in the moonlight, and she kept her eyes downcast. “It’s cold out here.” His throat bobbed as he looked up at us. “Please. Can we go back to the diner? We’ll get you some coffee and explain.”