The Hidden

“Yup. Stuck between the seats.”

“What? Ew. No way,” I said.

“True story,” Cacey replied. “Someone had actually taken the time to mummify this thing.”

“How could you tell?” Caspian interrupted. “Couldn’t it just have been a really old dead mouse?”

Cacey tapped her mouth. “The lips. They were sewn shut.”

“God, Cacey!” Nausea roiled through me, and I wanted to barf at the thought of seeing some poor little mouse that way. “That’s just insane.”

“Do mice even have lips?” Caspian mused. Uri laughed, and they shared a grin.

“Moving on,” I said.

But Cacey obviously didn’t want to move on. “Its little fingers had been pushed apart. Splayed open, instead of curled shut.” She mimicked it with both hands. “And the eyeballs-”

“I’m not going to be able to eat lunch,” I warned her.

“Then there was the tooth,” she said.

“Do I even want to know about the tooth?” I groaned, and then promptly answered myself. “No. No, I do not.”

“… on a key chain,” Uri filled in.

“Lost baby tooth?” Caspian suggested. “A family memento?”

“Molar,” Cacey and Uri both said at the same time.

“Must have been pried right out of someone’s mouth with something blunt, because the ends were all damaged and jagged,” Uri supplied. “The bus came from a junkyard in West Virginia. Crazy-ass place. Who knows what happened there.”

Cacey laughed delightedly, and I shook my head at her. She saw me and stopped, but grinned at Uri. “Abbey thinks I’m creepy. She told me when she got into the car.”

Something passed between them-more than just a look-and I got the impression there were silent words being spoken. “She’s right,” he said. And then he put a hand on her knee. “You are creepy.”

Uri directed his next words to me and Caspian. “She totally gets off on this stuff. I don’t know why.” He shook his head bemusedly at her, someone who had obviously been putting up with his partner’s peculiarities for a long time and didn’t mind doing it.

“Why didn’t you just get a new car if that one was so awful?” I asked.

“Ooh! We’re here!” Cacey squealed. A restaurant called the Pink Peppercorn came into view, and we pulled into the parking lot. “First we go get a seat. Then I’ll tell you why about the car. Deal?”

I nodded, but she was already climbing out.

“Wait until I’ve stopped the car,” Uri admonished.

She did. But barely.

I got out and kept the door open long enough for Caspian to get out too. “Are we going to be okay going in?” I said softly to Uri, nodding my head at Caspian and then Cacey. “I mean, all of us?”

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

Cacey heard my question. “He doesn’t eat much, right? Because it’s going to be embarrassing trying to explain his order.”

“I don’t-,” Caspian said.

“I know! I know!” She laughed. “I’m just teasing. Lighten up. It’ll be fine. Come on.”

I glanced at Uri. “It will be fine,” he said again, ushering us to the door. “She’ll behave.”

Doubtfully, I followed behind them as Caspian brought up the rear. When we got inside, Cacey flagged down a waiter, and he seated us right away in a large booth. The interior of the restaurant was decorated in pale pinks and grays, with tiny hints of black. It had a smooth 1920s vibe to it.

“How’d you get service so fast?” I asked Cacey, settling in next to the space where Caspian was.

“It’s the mind mojo,” she said absentmindedly, poring over the menu. “Works every time.”

“Mind mojo?” I asked. “What’s that?”

She pointed to the extensive listing in front of her. “Choose what you want to eat. Then talk. When he comes back, I want to give him our order. I’m starving.”

I perused the list. It looked like the Pink Peppercorn was strictly vegan fare. I’d never been to a vegan restaurant before. “Where’s just plain breakfast?” I asked. “That should be safe enough.”

Cacey flipped the menu and pointed to the back.

“I guess I’ll take the tofu scramble,” I said after a minute. “Spinach, soy cheese, asparagus, and shiitake mushrooms with home fries doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Yum! I’m going with the vegan hot tamale platter. And I want a Coke, like, now,” Cacey replied. “What are you getting, Uri?”

“Tofu burrito.”

“You don’t mind if we eat in front of you, do you?” Cacey asked Caspian. She didn’t seem to care that people might notice she was speaking to him.

“It’s not like I have a choice, do I?” he said. “Be my guest.”

The waiter glided over and took out a pen and pad. Cacey rattled off her order, and I could see that he was taken with her melodic voice, just like I’d been the first time I’d talked to her. He had a hard time paying attention to what he was writing as Uri and I told him what we wanted, and his gaze kept straying back to her colorless eyes.

“I would absolutely love a Coca-Cola to go with my meal,” Cacey said, maintaining eye contact. “In fact, we all would.”

A funny metallic taste filled my mouth, like burned toast, and I reached for the pitcher of ice water that was sitting on the table. After pouring a glass, I gulped some of it down quickly.

“I’ll see to it,” the waiter murmured. “And I’ll get this order put in right away.”

“Thank you!” Cacey called as he walked away.

“Is she always like this?” Caspian asked Uri.

“Every time. Worse when she really wants something.”

“That’s enough from you.” Cacey pointed to Uri. “And you, too, dead boy.” She pointed to Caspian.

“Don’t do that,” I whispered.

“Do what?”

I made some abstract gesture with my hand. “Point to Caspian. Bring attention to him. People might see.”

She looked around us at the half-empty room. “Honey, these people in here have better things to do with their time than pay attention to us. They’re too busy discussing what will happen when they go home to their underground bunkers and assemble to conquer global hunger and world peace with hugs and teddy bears. They don’t give two shits about what we say or do.”

“You’re eating here,” I said to her. “Does that mean you go home to your bunker and hug teddy bears?”

Her smile turned sharp. “I don’t hug anything.”

Then she winked at me, and I laughed. “Okay, okay. Tell me about this car, then. Why couldn’t you just get a new one if the bus was so crappy?”

She leaned back in her seat. “Um, duh. Because we’re Revenants.”

She left it at that, and I swear to God I could have strangled her. Instead I raised an eyebrow.

“Neat trick,” she said.

I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Soooooo, are you going to give me the real reason?” I said.

She just stared blankly at me.

“Uri?” I pleaded, turning to him.

“We couldn’t get a new car because that was the one given to us to use for our job duration,” he explained.