“A conversion of heart,” I said, because I thought it sounded good. “I’m not just leading the Nephilim. I
Dante saw me out, and it took every ounce of control to walk calmly to the Volkswagen. I kept our farewell short, then drove around the corner, immediately parked, and twisted the cap off the bottle. I was about to tip it back when the sound of Patch’s ringtone caused me to jump, splashing blue liquid on my lap.
It evaporated instantly, rising into the air like smoke from a snuffed match. I cursed under my breath, furious that I’d lost even a few precious drops.
“Hello?” I answered. The red spots streaked my vision.
“I don’t like finding you in another man’s house, Angel.”
Immediately, I looked both ways out the window. I shoved the devilcraft under my seat. “Where are you?”
“Three cars back.”
My eyes flew to the rearview mirror. Patch swung off his motorcycle and strolled toward me, phone pressed to his ear. I wiped my face with the neck of my shirt.
I cranked down my window. “Following me?” I asked Patch.
“Tracking device.”
I was starting to hate that thing.
Patch leaned a forearm on the roof of my car, bending close. “Who lives on Shore Drive?”
“That tracking device is pretty specific.”
“I only buy the best.”
“Dante lives at 12 Shore Drive.” No use lying when it sounded like he’d already done his research.
“I don’t like finding you in another man’s home, but I hate finding you in his.” His expression was calm enough, but I could tell he wanted an explanation.
“I needed to confirm our workout time for tomorrow morning. I was in the area and figured I might as well stop by.” The lie slipped out easy, so easy. All I could think of was getting rid of Patch. My throat filled with the taste of devilcraft. I swallowed impatiently.
y.
Gently, Patch pushed my sunglasses higher on my nose, then bent through the window and kissed me. “I’m on my way to research a few more leads into Pepper’s blackmailer. Need anything before I head out?”
I shook my head no.
“If you need to talk, you know I’m here for you,” he added softly.
“Talk about what?” I asked, almost defensively. Could he know about the devilcraft? No. No, he couldn’t.
He studied me a moment. “Anything.”
I waited until Patch drove off before I drank, one greedy sip at a time, until I was full.
CHAPTER 20
THURSDAY EVENING ARRIVED, AND WITH IT, THE complete transformation of the farmhouse. Garlands of autumn leaves in scarlet, gold, and chestnut spilled off the eaves. Bushels of dried cornstalks framed the door. Marcie had purchased what appeared to be every pumpkin and gourd in all of Maine, and lined them up along the sidewalk, the driveway, and every last square inch of porch. Some were carved into jack-o’-lanterns, flickering candlelight in their spooky expressions. A vindictive part of me wanted to tell her it looked like a craft store had thrown up on our lawn, but the truth was, she’d done a nice job.
Inside, haunted music played from the stereo. Skulls, bats, cobwebs, and ghosts cluttered the furniture. Marcie had rented a dry-ice machine—as if we didn’t have enough authentic fog in the yard.
I had two paper bags filled with last-minute items in my arms, and I carted them into the kitchen.
“I’m back!” I yelled. “Plastic cups, one bag of spider rings, two bags of ice, and more skeleton confetti—just like you asked. Soda is still in the trunk. Any volunteers to help carry it in?”
Marcie sashayed into the room, and I did a jaw drop. She wore a black vinyl bra and matching leggings. Nothing more. Her ribs poked through her skin, and she had total Popsicle-stick thighs. “Put the soda in the fridge, the ice in the freezer, and sprinkle the skeleton confetti on the dining room table, but don’t get any in the food. That’s it for now. Stay close in case I need anything else. I have to go finish my costume.”
“Well, that’s a relief. For a minute there, I thought that was all you planned on wearing,” I said, gesturing at the skimpy vinyl.
Marcie glanced down. “It is. I’m Catwoman. I just need to hot-glue black felt ears to my headband.”
“You’re wearing a bra to the party? Just a bra?”
“A bandeau.”
Oh, this was going to be good. I couldn’t wait for Vee’s commentary. “Who’s Batman?”
“Robert Boxler.”
“I guess that means Scott bailed?” It was more of a rhetorical . IacRomaquestion. Just to give the proverbial knife one last twist.
Marcie gave her shoulders a pompous little hike. “Scott who?” she said, and marched upstairs.
“He chose Vee over you!” I called triumphantly after her.
“I don’t care,” Marcie singsonged back. “You probably made him. It’s no secret he does everything you say. Put the soda in the fridge before the turn of the century.”
I stuck my tongue out, even though she couldn’t see it. “I have to get ready too, you know!”
At seven, the first guests arrived. Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, Elvis and Priscilla. Even a bottle of ketchup and mustard strolled through the front door. I let Marcie play hostess and moseyed into the kitchen, stacking my plate with deviled eggs, cocktail wieners, and candy corn. I’d been too busy granting Marcie’s every pre-party command to eat dinner. That, and the new formula of devilcraft Dante had given me, seemed to curb my appetite for the first several hours after I took it.
I’d done a reasonably good job of rationing it and still had enough to last a few more days. The night sweats, headaches, and strange tingling sensation that would seize me at the oddest moments when I’d first started taking the new formula had gone away. I was sure this meant that the dangers of addiction had passed and I’d learned to use devilcraft safely. Moderation was key. Blakely might have tried to hook me on devilcraft, but I was strong enough to set my own limits.
The effects of devilcraft were unbelievable. I’d never felt so mentally and physically superior. I knew I had to stop taking it eventually, but with the stress and dangers of Cheshvan and war looming, I was glad I was being cautious. If another of my doubting Nephilim soldiers attacked me, this time I’d be ready.
After filling up on appetizers and Sprite served from a black cauldron, I elbowed my way into the living room, looking to see whether Vee and Scott had arrived. The lights were dimmed, everyone was in costume, and I had a hard time picking faces out of the crowd. Plus, I’d peeked at the guest list. It was heavily weighted in favor of Marcie’s friends.
“Love the costume, Nora. But you’re anything but a devil.”
I looked sideways at Morticia Addams. I squinted in confusion, then smiled. “Oh, hey, Bailey. I almost didn’t recognize you with black hair.” Bailey sat beside me in math, and we’d been friends since junior high. I picked up my devil tail, with the little red spade at the tip, to save it from the guy behind me, who kept accidentally stepping on it, and said, “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Did you finish your math homework? I didn’t understand a single thing Mr. Huron tried to teach us today. Every time he started working a problem on the chalkboard, he’d stop halfway through, erase his work, and start over. I don’t think
“Yeah, I’m probably going to spend hours on it tomorrow.”
Her eyes lit up. “We should meet at the library and do it together.”
“I promised my mom I’d clean out the cellar after school,” I hedged. uo;d do it Truth be told, homework had slipped a few notches on my list of priorities as of late. It was hard to stress about school when I feared that any day now the eerie cease-fire between fallen angels and Nephilim was going to snap. Fallen angels were up to something. And I’d give anything to find out what.
