“That’s none of your business. Just don’t let her know I’m gone. I promise you, if you do this for me, I’ll never bother you or Wolcroft again. You have my word.”
“What’s that worth?”
“Not that you’d know, but a lot.”
I pursed my lips. Darn it. How could I be worried about Coral? Marty was a bad influence. I was getting soft. I mean, first I started to like Ned, and now this? “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Abby. I wish—”
I perked up my ears. I hoped this was going to be some movie moment.
“In another time and place, Abigail Rath, we could have been friends. I respect you as a rival, and our swords will
cross again.”
“…that we could have been friends, and you respect me as a rival?”
“Oh no,” said Coral. “Under the right circumstances, I would have cleaned your clock. I wish we’d had a chance to be, you know, just normal together.”
I watched her go. I respected she thought she could clean my clock, but obviously, she was wrong.
I pulled my cell phone out. One more thing to do before I headed for the parents.
“Yeah?”
“Hey Vince. You know it’s me. Can you find Ned?”
“Probably. I’ll call Big Mel’s.”
We had to get Ned a life. Someone his age shouldn’t be working every Friday night. I shook my head to clear it. Wouldn’t do to think of Ned as a normal guy. “Um…send him over to Wolcroft. Special assignment for vampires.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Coral needs a tail.”
Vince sighed. “Everything’s okay?”
“Oh sure. Just send Ned. And get yourself some holy water.”
“I’ll call you later, make sure everything’s okay.”
“You do that.” I closed my phone and headed back for the auditorium.
After the concert, I stood with Mom and Dad by the punch bowl, getting my recommended daily allowance of parental praise. William bought his mom up to meet us.
I wasn’t the least bit attracted to Austin Von Trapp anymore. A healthy dose of realized mind control followed by a holy water chaser seemed to have done the trick.
Dad was all smiles, and Mom less so. I could see Dad recognizing Larissa, Mom recognizing Dad recognizing Larissa, both of them knowing Larissa had tried to kidnap their daughter.
“Thanks for the good time the other night, Mr. Rath,” said William.
“We missed you at the end,” Dad said, staring into the strawberry depths of his punch cup.
“Yes,” said Larissa. “I took him home. I enjoyed the movie and your presentation.”
“Did you know,” said Dad, “you are the spitting image of one of the starlets from Anvil Studios?”
Larissa shook her head. “You are mistaken. I have never acted.”
“You certainly could have,” Dad said.
Dad was so smooth.
The adults fell into adult chitchat, no doubt really some thinly veiled conversation. I know you’re a vampire. I know you’re both vampire hunters. We can do nothing here, but spar with words and frustration.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” William said.
“You should be,” I said. “What you tried was kidnapping.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Dude,” I said. “I have only one thing left to say to you.”
“Yes?”
“Your mind control is kaput. I’m not interested. Buzz off.”
Puzzlement shadowed William’s perfect face. I doubted any girl in his experience had ever told him to buzz off before. Always happy to do things first.
Mom and Dad closed down their conversation, and William, crestfallen, was led away by his mom.
“The nerve,” said Mom.
“Steady, Polly,” said Dad.
“Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something.”
“Go get your things, Abby. We need to get home, right away.”
I went to the backroom. No Coral. A scribbled Post-it stuck to my French horn case said, “On it. N.” Ned
had poor penmanship, but he was turning out to be an excellent bodyguard. I thought Coral might need one more than me tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Revenge of the Creatures
After the concert, Mom and Dad thought one of them should follow up with Larissa given the kidnapping attempt. They drew straws, and Mom won. Mr. Christopher was going along, and Dad, aggravated he had not drawn the short straw, was going to stay home with me.
They didn’t know I knew this, but I was listening in instead of sleeping. Hey, I’m not stupid. They are monster hunters. I’ve spent half my childhood listening to them get ready to go off and risk their lives, with very little thought to how them risking their lives strings me out. Double standards, again.
“It’s clear,” Mom said, packing her bag of tricks with potions and spell books, “Larissa isn’t a vampire we can negotiate with.” I could see Mom in my head, wearing her black lace blouse, a stylish leather jacket with puffed sleeves, and her split bolero skirt.
“I will give her the option to leave Los Angeles,” said Mr. Christopher. Mr. Christopher never flaunted his flair for the theatrical on a mission. He wore dark slacks and a turtleneck. No capes except for when he was doing the actor thing.
“This is my fault,” said Dad. “I never should have killed her sister.”
“No regrets, Reginald. You saved a life.” Mr. Christopher’s deep voice carried in the night. “However, our actions will always have consequences.”
“Abigail wonders why we don’t want her flinging herself into it.”
“I agree with Abigail, about her training,” said Mr. Christopher. “Her chances of encountering your old enemies have always been high. You have closed your eyes to realistically preparing her for these eventualities.”
Wow. Go, Mr. Christopher. At least he didn’t think I was a nut. He found fault with Mom and Dad instead.
I heard the door slam. Dad paced for a while. I
