Sing Sweet Nightingale (34 page)

Mariella leans forward when we pull up in front of Stone’s Throw, her eyes jumping from the hand-painted sign to the window display of books, crystal balls, wind chimes, and dream catchers.

It’s earlier than when the store is usually open, but I called ahead and warned Dawn we’d be coming. She’s already unlocking the door and grinning at us from the entrance.

“Before you ask, the business is
not
for sale,” she calls.

“Good. Wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.” I grab my backpack full of crystals and pass Mariella hers while K.T. brings up the rear with two more. The store probably has plenty of crystals to keep us safe, but we’re not taking any chances. When Dawn sees the bags, her eyes widen, magnified by her thick lenses.

“Are you moving in?”

“No. I’m being overcautious.” Before she can ask, I open the bag and show her what’s inside. She leans so close her nose almost brushes the top of the bag, but then she flinches and pulls away fast.

“Wow. I have
never
felt that kind of energy rolling off a bag of crystals. What did you do? Electrify them?”

Mariella brushes past us into the store, her lips pressed tight, but I keep my attention on Dawn. “Something like that.”

“Hmm. Well, if you want more, I’ve restocked. Have more than I carried before.”

“We’ll take it.”

Dawn shakes her head. “Without looking at it?”

“You pick good stuff, and I need more. Why waste the time?”

“All right, big spender,” K.T. says as she passes, smiling.

Dawn’s attention has wandered. Her eyes follow Mari around the store. She’s already standing in front of the glass shelves of stones and grabbing as many as she can carry.

“Mariella is…different,” Dawn says without looking away. “What happened?”

“A lot. And not enough.”

Dawn nods like my answer actually meant something. “She still needs a cleansing.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons we came.”

Smirking, Dawn finally turns back to me. “Not just to clean me out again?”

“Nope. Wanted to pick your brain, too.”

Her smile widens. At least until I start explaining exactly what I need. What’s happening. What we’re up against.

“You really know how to pick your fights, don’t you?”

I huff out a laugh and rub one of my hands over my hair. “Yeah. It’s, uh, kind of a talent of mine.”

Dawn looks up at me, her eyebrows pulled together. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I said it.” Then, with a roll of her eyes and a quick turn, she’s off to the bookcases and pulling down seemingly random titles.

“Your best bet to link everything together is silver,” she says, beckoning me into the back room of the store. She drops the stack of books on a neatly organized desk and sits. Grabbing one, she flips through the pages and then slides it under a camera on a movable arm. With the press of a couple of buttons, the text from the book appears on her oversized monitor, but it’s fuzzy.

“Thanks for this, by the way.” She grins as she adjusts the settings on the projection. “You bought all those stones, and I bought this.”

“Glad to help.” I look up at the screen as the page comes into focus. It’s the entry on silver from
The Book of Stones
—the main book I used to teach myself about the crystals.

“Its power is heightened by the moon, and since these demon-y things like to hit at night, silver will help you out. Expensive, but useful.”

I finger the tiger-iron pendant hidden beneath my shirt. “Okay. Any ideas on what to do with it?”

Dawn is already flipping through another book, her nose pressed close to the pages until she finds what she’s looking for, then places it under the camera. She points at a choker of silver and stones.

“This was found near where the Oracle of Delphi supposedly lived. Archeologists think the arrangement of the stones was meant to protect her from evil spirits.” Before I can comment, she switches the book again. “This is a belt that was made from a description of one once worn by Merlin.”

“The wizard? Like King Arthur and Merlin?”

Dawn grins. “The very same.”

She shows me a few more, bracelets and anklets and designs supposed to enhance the stone’s powers and connection to the wearer. Even if they don’t work, I figure they can’t hurt. Plus, it’ll be easier than being forced to carry around a backpack of crystals for the rest of my life. I mark all the pages and pile up the books to take with me.

“You don’t happen to carry silver wire, do you?” I ask as we move toward the counter where K.T. and Mari are waiting.

“Sorry. I can order some, though. Rush, of course. Even ship it straight to you.”

“Perfect. I’ll take as much as you can find.”

It takes Dawn a little while to ring everything up, but soon we’re headed to the car with a few new bags of stones and a stack of books.

“Good luck,” Dawn calls after us. “Come see me again when it’s over.”

“Of course.”
If I’m alive
, I add in my head.

Before we head back to Mariella’s house, I swing by Horace’s to pick up a few things. He must’ve seen us coming because he opens the door before we reach it.

K.T.’s phone rings as soon as she steps onto the sagging porch. She checks the screen, biting her lip as she glances at me, and answers the call.

“Hey. Can I call you back in a minute?” A short pause and then the call is over.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Um, do you remember that neurologist I said might be able to help Emily? Dr. Carroll?” She smiles, but it’s a little too bright. Forced-bright. “He’s kind of here.”

“You really brought him here?” She’s putting a lot of trust in someone she found online. Horace opens the front door and steps out as I ask, “What do you know about this guy?”

“Hudson, I’m not an idiot.” K.T. tenses and glares at me. “When I told him I might have information, I said I’d only work with him if he could prove he was who he said he was. He signed a release to let me do a background check. He has no criminal record, and his medical degrees are legit.”

I raise an eyebrow, and Horace laughs. “Well, that’s somethin’ at least.”

K.T. takes a breath. “I’m not asking you to help, Hudson. I just wanted to let you know that he’s here.” She pauses, her lips pursed. “If he can connect the dots, I’ll tell him what happened with Emily.”

I know how important this is to her, so despite my desire to warn her off a probable dead-end, I nod. “All right.”

K.T. relaxes, turning around and heading into the front yard as her fingers move over the screen of her phone.

“Think the doc’ll help?” Horace asks.

“Who knows,” I mutter as we step inside.

Mariella hasn’t been here before. She looks around like she can’t quite believe someone could live here. Considering her house is practically an architectural showpiece, it’s not surprising she’s a little skeptical.

Work on the restoration has already started, but at this point it looks worse. There are huge holes in the wall where they had to get at wiring and plumbing, and the kitchen has been completely gutted.

“This place is a mess,” she signs when she catches me watching her.

“It’s a work in progress,” I explain. “If your dad’s plans work out, it should be pretty nice when it’s done.”

She bites her lip and looks around. Then she exhales quickly, her eyes flick up to the ceiling, and, without looking at me, she signs, “You should ask my parents if you can stay with us while your house is in ruins.”

My heart stops and I stare at her, but she won’t look at me. Apparently the crown molding is worth an in-depth analysis. Move in? She’s asking me to move in?

“What’d she say?” Horace asks.

I tell him and expect him to laugh, but his lips purse. Holy hell. Is he actually taking the idea seriously?

“Her birthday’s next Friday, ain’t it?” he asks after a few seconds. I nod. “Probably best to wait, right? That’s the night you’ll want to be there.”

My voice has completely dried up. All I can do is nod. Yes, that’s the most important night, but I can’t leave her alone every night before then. What if her demon comes back?

Mariella finally meets my eyes and shrugs. “You’ll have to sneak in until then.”

I hold my breath and nod, wondering if I should tell her I was going to do that anyway.

Thirty-Two

Mariella

Sunday, September 7 – 12:15 PM

I stand in front of my closet and realize I hate every piece of clothing I own. All of it. I have to go back to school tomorrow, and I don’t want to wear any of this. It’s all awful and doesn’t fit and why did I think it was such a good idea to own so much black?

“Mari? Are you listening?”

I sign “No,” over my shoulder at Hudson and start pulling things off hangers and shelves. Everything in this closet is because of
him
. I hid myself away because it helped me vanish in plain sight. It was easier to stay silent if no one wanted to talk to me, so I drowned myself in fabric.

My eyes burn, but I don’t notice I’m crying until Hudson pulls me away from the closet and wipes my cheek dry with his thumb. I grab a tissue from my desk and wipe my eyes, ducking my head to hide the way my cheeks heated up as soon as he touched me. Even after I scrub at my face with the dry half of the tissue, I can feel the exact path his thumb took across my face. The warmth of it was such a nice change from the chills I’ve been fighting off all weekend.

He’s standing so close I hear the soft sigh before he asks, “What do you want me to do with all this?”

I open my eyes to see him gathering up the clothes I tossed out, folding them in neat piles of shirts and pants and jackets. He’s avoiding my eyes, so he doesn’t notice when I sign for him to stop. But it’s probably better if
he
does it. Once they’re out of my closet, I don’t want to touch them anyway. And Hudson’s folding is a lot neater than mine would’ve been.

Going back to the closet, I keep pulling clothes out, biting my lip to keep the tears from rolling again. But I can’t keep my hands from shaking or ignore the way the air burns my lungs when I breathe.

Ten years. Ten years of accumulated lies. Ten years of my life, gone.

I was in love with Orane for a long time, before I even knew what I was feeling. I started dropping hints when I was fourteen, and I thought he was being chivalrous or dense when he didn’t pick up on the hints for two years.
Two years
.

I kneel down, my fingers digging deeper, yanking out shoes and winter coats and everything else stuffed inside. My cheeks burn hotter as I dig into the forgotten corners of my closet until there’s nothing left.

Orane took so much more than he should have. I saw the look on Hudson’s face when I told him I loved Orane. He was angry and disgusted, but that showed up
after
the shock. Even in the memories he stole from Calease, Hudson told me he’s never heard of a demon making their victims
love
them. But he’s also never heard of someone getting stalked from the age of eight.

If the dreamworld is all someone knows, is it any wonder they fall in love with it?

But my real life disintegrated because of it. My friendships vanished. My memories are gone. And it’s no wonder none of my damn clothes fit. I weighed myself on the scale in Mom’s bathroom, and I’m so underweight it’s gross.

“What do you guys want for lunch?”

I freeze at the sound of Mom’s voice. It’s too late to hide the chaos. She’s already here.

“I was thinking—”

Her eyes widen when she sees the mess, but it doesn’t look like she’s upset. A flush spreads over her cheeks, and her eyes get a little watery as she takes everything in.

“Well, um, fall cleaning, sweetie?” she asks, laughing a little through the words.

“She wants to donate all of this,” Hudson says before I can answer.

No, actually. I want to burn it all, but I guess that’s a little selfish. Someone might as well benefit from this disaster.

“Okay, sure.” Mom’s nodding like a bobblehead. She always does that when she gets excited about something. “But you’re not keeping
any
of it, Mari? What are you going to wear?”

My eyes burn. I rub my face to make sure the tears aren’t back and then sweep my hands back, pushing my hair over my shoulders. I can’t keep the grimace off my face as I sign, “Can we go shopping? Please?”

Shopping is the last thing I want to do right now, but it’s either that or get arrested for indecent exposure next time I leave the house. I am
not
wearing any of this crap again.

Mom starts fluttering and twitching, her face getting even redder.

“Oh! I mean—just, um—I’ll be right back!”

I glance at Hudson, but he looks as confused as I am. He meets my eyes and shrugs.

“Don’t ask me,” he says as he goes back to folding my discarded clothes.

I return to the last drawer and go back to work. As I finish, Mom comes back with about ten huge shopping bags.

“I bought some of this a long time ago,” she explains as Hudson takes a couple bags off her hands. Her voice is an octave higher than usual, and every few seconds a tear escapes her eyes and runs unheeded down her cheeks, but her smile makes her entire face glow. “Some of it is probably out of style by now, but we should be able to find something for you.”

Once the old stuff is out of the way, Mom and Hudson dump the bags into a pile on the floor and we all start sorting. There’s everything from tank tops to long-sleeved shirts, skirts to slacks, thin sweaters to down-filled winter jackets. When I look at Mom, she smiles and shrugs.

“I got it all just in case,” she says. “You might have gotten tired of black, you know.”

I pick up a long-sleeved shirt in deep blue. Blue is a good color right now. Hudson glows with a blue light similar to this, and the glow surrounding me gets closer to blue every day. It grows stronger the further I pull away from Orane. If Hudson is right, I’ll be glowing blue for the rest of my life, so I should get used to wearing it. My heart drops into my stomach, and I clutch the shirt tighter. If I survive, anyway.

“Here.” Mom hands me a white tank top. “That shirt dips kind of low. I think you’ll probably want to wear this underneath it.”