Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series) (22 page)

He chuckled. “The locations change every couple weeks.” He jotted an address down on the back of her receipt. “Show up here next Saturday night. Neither of you ladies will have any trouble getting in.”

Felicia scooped up the receipt and bag. “Thanks.”

Outside the shop, Tori made a sound of disgust. “I’m going to be horribly murdered soon, and all you can think about is buying bling and going to parties?”

To her surprise Felicia seemed hurt. “I bought the dream catchers to engage Cody in conversation, and the party is about finding Stormchaser. Even if he doesn’t know who’s behind the Apocalypse plot, it can’t hurt to have a Nephilim ally.”

“Oh.” Tori’s annoyance turned to chagrin. “I’m sorry. It’s a clever idea.”

Felicia sighed. “That’s all right. You’ve every reason to think ill of me.”

If she’s making an effort, I should make an effort—however grudgingly.
“You were good with Mime.”

“Come, now, don’t gush.” Felicia was deadpan.

“I
said
I was sorry.”

“Here, take this.” She handed Tori one of the tissue-wrapped dream catchers. “I thought you and I could put these on chains and wear them as necklaces to the party. Anyone who is acquainted with Mr. Mime will recognize us as friends.”

“I-I’m impressed,” Tori said, taken aback. “I never would have thought of it.”

“I may be blonde, but I’m not dumb. Not that Grandpapa believes that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not important.”

Tori jerked her head toward the coffeehouse across the street. “Do you feel like getting some coffee?”

“I’d love to.”

Several minutes later, they’d settled themselves next to the coffeehouse window, watching people stroll past. Some had shopping bags, and others were walking dogs, but none paid any attention to the writhing wraiths and grotesque gremlins swarming in the gutters and sidewalks.

Felicia shook her head. “The infestation in L.A. is far, far worse than in London.”

“I expect every major city around the globe will empty out before too long, and the entire underworld will be here.” Tori shuddered. “Now what were you telling me before about Lord Birmingham?”

Felicia frowned as she stirred her coffee. “Um…did anyone explain to you about Nicholai?”

“N-No.”

Laugh. “You’re a terrible liar. Anyway, after Nicholai died, guilt took over. As a result, I went rather wild trying to prove I wasn’t cold…and ended up losing the friendship and respect of someone I admired very much.”

She means Raven.

“I don’t think Nicholai’s suicide was your fault, no matter what he said in the note. Did you have any idea how he felt about you?”

“We were close, but I had no clue his feelings had grown deeper than friendship. I had a secret crush on him for the longest time, but I never said anything. Anyway, Grandpapa doesn’t take me seriously. He always felt the ballroom dancing competition circuit was beneath me, if you can believe it.”

“What?”

“Yes, he’s rather close-minded about things like that. He hates the idea of my becoming an actor, too.”

“Does he want you to work for the Institute?”

“At a low level…until I get married. He intends to groom Fletcher for a leadership position in the Institute, but not me.” She paused. “I’m a little bitter about it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to have anything to do with the Institute!”

“I suppose it’s my version of sour grapes. Plus, I can’t resist twitting Grandpapa every chance I get. Don’t misunderstand; I really
am
keen to act in the movies. It’s just nothing can ever be more exciting—or satisfying—than exterminating evil.”

“I’d like to learn how to do it myself, eventually, without getting killed in the process.”

“If you spend any time at Blackfriars, we’ll train you up a bit.”

The memory of Raven coaching her how to hit the heavy bag brought a smile to Tori’s lips.
I look forward to having him train me.

“What’s the smile about?” Felicia asked.

“After my horrible SBT audition, I believed the world had ended. Then, when I learned my life might be taken from me, my perspective changed entirely. I love ballet, but there
are
other things for me to think about now.” She paused. “I don’t know why I told you that.”

“Because despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not
entirely
an unfeeling monster.” Felicia scooped up the rest of her whipped cream with a plastic spoon. “If you’ll indulge me just a little longer, before we go home I simply
must
have that leather jacket.”

Chapter Fourteen

Stormchaser

L
ATE
S
UNDAY
A
FTERNOON
, Raven allowed Fletcher to rope him into a few games of billiards. Well aware Felicia and Tori were out together, he kept one eye on the clock. When Felicia finally breezed in, clad in a new leather jacket, he couldn’t wait to learn what had transpired.

“The fellow confirmed only what we already knew, but it wasn’t a complete waste of time,” she said. “There’s a Nephilim by the name of Stormchaser who might know something more. We’re going to search for him at a party next Saturday.”

Raven’s eyebrows rose. “
We
…as in the four of us, right?”

“If you want to go, you’ll have to look cool. There’s going to be a lot of diversity and we want to fit in.”

“Diversity…as in demon freaks, vamps, and hangers-on?” Fletcher nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Raven can pull it off better than you can,” she replied. “We’re going to have to work on your look.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Only
you
could find an insult in not looking like a freak,” she said.

“How did it go with Tori?” Raven asked.

“I made her cry a few times. She slapped me once and pulled my hair.”

“My sister’s being sarcastic, just so you know,” Fletcher said.

“We got along fine!” Felicia said. “But I saw something odd at her foster mother’s house. A painting of Baphomet.”

Raven shrugged. “A lot of people don’t realize Baphomet is connected with the occult.”

“Misty said the painting was a gift, but I caught a whiff of incense too.”

“She uses incense? The horror!” Fletcher exclaimed.

“If incense is evidence of a crime, you’ll have to lock up a broad swath of L.A,” Raven said.

“That’s not the only thing. Misty Savannah has been extremely generous to Tori, but why? They’re not related or anything.”

“The woman has nobody else to spend her money on, and she’s fond of her,” Raven replied. “If you start to cast aspersions on the one person who has provided Tori with any sort of stability, she’ll never forgive you.”
And neither will I.

“I understand, but if we want to figure out who is behind the plot, we shouldn’t exclude anyone out of sentiment.”

“Misty Savannah is a former singing star,” Fletcher said dismissively. “Even Grandfather has a few of her records, in point of fact.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Felicia,” Raven said. “Please don’t say anything crazy to Tori. She’s got enough to worry about without you shaking her cage.”

“Don’t marginalize me! And Tori is not as fragile as you think,” Felicia retorted. “By the way, whose motorbike is parked out front? Do we have company?”

“It’s mine.” Fletcher’s grin dripped with satisfaction. “Grandfather and I took the limo after you left to get it.”

Felicia gasped in dismay. “I want a motorbike too! Why didn’t you wait until I got home?”

“Grandfather refuses to buy one for you. Something about motorbikes not being ladylike.”

“
What?”

“Silly, huh? It’s not like you’re a lady or anything.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Have I ever told you that you’re an idiot?”

Fletcher laughed. “Don’t rush to judgment on that. Grandfather is leaving tomorrow morning, but he’s giving you a car allowance. You can pick out whatever motorbike you want after he leaves and he’ll never know. I recall seeing several models in pink.”

“Pink my foot.” She smiled. “And you’re still an idiot.”

Nearly a week had passed since Tori and Felicia had spoken with Mr. Mime, and no new tremors had shaken the city. In addition, an almost eerie calm had descended on the demon populace. Far from being soothing, however, the lull in activity was jangling Tori’s nerves. Her real birthday was a scant few weeks away, and she still didn’t know who was behind the plot to usher in the Apocalypse.
Maybe it’s all just a stupid, self-propagating rumor and I’ll wake up the day after my birthday, laughing.

Would this Nephilim they were seeking—Stormchaser—have any answers? Although she was doubtful, Tori had agreed to go the party that evening. Secretly, she was eager to have a look at the other guests, some of whom would be legendary creatures. The idea that vampires really existed was a difficult concept for her to accept. Were vampires any stranger than Satyrs or demons, though?

Much of Tori’s closet was strewn on her bed and over the back of a chair. In the midst of the chaos, she chewed her lip in indecision. Felicia had said “club chic,” but she wasn’t sure if she owned anything suitable. None of her dresses would work because she was riding to the party on the back of Raven’s motorcycle. Jeans weren’t dressy enough, were they?
This is why I could never be a fashion model! I have no feeling for clothes.

Finally, she slipped into a sleeveless black unitard left over from a dance recital, and added a charcoal tapestry bustier she’d worn the year before as part of a renaissance costume. She donned her high-heeled boots, reveling in the resulting Amazonian sensation. Her hair waved loosely about her shoulders, and she spent an hour applying dramatic stage makeup, complete with false eyelashes.

A glance at the clock told her Raven would be picking her up soon. She fretted over her choice of jacket, wishing she’d had the money to purchase one of the soft leather jackets Felicia had found on Melrose. A belted short black trench coat would have to do. At the last minute, Tori remembered the dream catcher. She strung it on a piece of black cord and tied it around her neck, admiring the way the crystals caught the light. Her appearance was far more theatrical than usual, but she would certainly not be the flashiest creature at the party.

Misty had retired for the night, but Tori stopped by her room on her way downstairs. Far from being stuffy about her outfit, her foster mother was delighted with how she looked.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” Tori asked.

“Not at all. I used to wear outrageous clothes whenever I performed in Vegas,” she said. “Some of them involved leather chaps and corsets.” She burst into laughter at Tori’s expression. “Don’t worry, that was many, many years ago. Next time you need something spectacular, remember you’ve got the key to my costume locker. You’re welcome to take anything, at any time.”

“Thank you, Misty. You’re the best.”

“Have fun at the party, my dear. You don’t have much time left.”

Tori froze in alarm. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll be turning eighteen soon, and taking on new and more responsibilities. Might as well enjoy yourself while you can.”

The explanation didn’t bring much relief, but Tori smiled anyway. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”