The Book of Lost Souls (20 page)

Spike frowned, considering her question. “Why should you trust me? That’s simple,” he said with a snort. “Because I’m betting Ivy
won’t
hurt me. She saved me from Dean back there.
She
has a conscious. That doesn’t take smarts to figure out, you know. That’s a lizard thing. Animals are better at studying their environment than humans. Humans talk. Animals observe. I want to be human for a while longer. Just until the end of the week. Then you can change me back. This is your fault, you know! Unless I can stay human until the end of the week, I’m not telling anyone anything! Besides, I’m the outcast here. Gimme a break.”

Unbelievable! Gareth’s pet was giving her a guilt trip. “I’m really starting to not like you.”
 

They emerged from the woods and back into the park. Without the chirp of the summertime crickets it was eerily quiet. Even the wind had long called it a night. Glistening dew sparkled the tips of the now dormant grass like miniature prisms.
 

Ivy glanced at her watch—two fifteen. Today was going to be hell.
 

“So,” Raven piped up. “Since you’ve been suckered by Catcher of the Flies here, what are you going to do with him?”

They’d reached Bane’s house and Bane ambled up the steps, head and ears hanging low from exhaustion.

Ivy shook her head. “Keep him in the guest bedroom, I suppose.”

“Interesting,” Raven said. “But, it’s your funeral when your mom finds out. Not that I’m turning into Shayde on you or anything. Just thought I’d throw that out there. Don’t get caught, okay? Takes the fun out of everything. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“It’s only until Saturday night,” Ivy replied with a yawn. Fatigue had taken a toll on her, because she distinctly heard herself say, “How hard can that be?”

CHAPTER 23

Ivy woke with a start, nearly flinging Devlin from the foot of the bed when her alarm went off at six the next morning. He grumbled and chose another spot to lie down.
 

Her muscles ached, protesting movement this early after only a few hours of sleep. Bringing Spike back hadn’t been easy.

Spike...

Ivy sat up in bed. “Oh, no! Devlin, tell me I didn’t really tell Spike he could stay in the guest bedroom.”

Devlin raised his head and looked in the direction of the hallway. He whined and scooted under the blanket.
 

She tossed the covers back and flew from the bed, practically tripping over the shoes and clothes she’d left haphazardly on the floor in her rush to get into bed. She wrenched her door open and shot down the hallway.
 

The guest bedroom door was closed, like always. But, her mother’s bedroom door stood open and Ivy froze at the sight of the empty bed. Her mother
never
got up before six-thirty since she didn’t have to be at the library until eight-thirty.
 

“Ivy?” her mother called from downstairs.
 

Devlin ran past Ivy, crouched low, head shifting left and right, ears pinned sideways against his head. He took refuge in her mother’s room, disappearing under the bed. He whined faintly.

Raven’s words echoed in Ivy’s head:
It’s your funeral when your mom finds out.
 

“Be there in a minute,” Ivy called back, wondering if her funeral would be open, or closed casket.
 

Quietly, she opened the guest room door, her eyes taking in the whole room at once. It wasn’t difficult. The room contained a twin-sized bed with an old, dark headboard that needed refinishing. Her grandmother’s antique lace bedspread covered the bed. On either side of the bed were two small off-white square night tables.

What it didn’t contain was Spike.

Neither did the guest room closet.

Closed casket. Definitely closed casket.

She ran into her mother’s room, knelt next to the bed, and lifted the dust ruffle. Devlin peered up at her, his ears still slightly down and sideways. Usually, this behavior meant he’d done something wrong, like peeing on the roses, digging under the fence, or regurgitating rodents on the living room carpet.
 

This time, however, it was as though he were agreeing with Raven’s prediction last night of Death by Parent.
 

“Hey, buddy. Can you pick up Spike’s scent anywhere?”
 

Devlin retreated further under the bed.

“What was I supposed to have done? Leave him outside?”

Devlin cocked his head. “
Gerrrr
.”
 

“Yeah, well, does it
sound
like Mom’s found him? I don’t think she’s using her happy voice.” Her mother didn’t sound angry, but sometimes, when she was really mad, she tried to sound calm. Still, it could mean she’d found Spike and wanted an explanation on why he was still human.

Devlin scooted backward.

“Come out of there and help me!” she whispered.

He crawled to the far side of the bed, and turned his head away from her, tucking his coyote-like tail beneath him.

“
Ivy?”
Her mother’s voice was louder this time and Ivy heard the bottom stair creak.
 

“Chicken,” Ivy muttered. She quickly got to her feet, hurried out of the room and dashed down the stairs, nearly colliding with her mom who met her halfway.
 

“Are you okay, sweetie? You look pale.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Ivy replied honestly.
 

Okay, she said sweetie, so maybe she hadn’t found him. Yet.

Her mother sighed heavily. “I know the feeling.” She turned and trudged down the stairs like a much older woman. “I’ve put on some tea. Looks like you could use some, too.”

Ivy patted her leg and clucked for Devlin to follow them. She heard a shuffling noise and a slight whine from her mother’s bedroom, but Devlin wasn’t budging from his hiding place under the bed. For a moment, Ivy considered joining him.

The good news was that Spike might have escaped. Of course, that was bad news, too. What if Spike was downstairs in the kitchen? Then, bad news didn’t begin to cover it.

Her mother waved a hand as they passed through the living room and the blinds opened, letting in light from what promised to be a clear, sunny autumn day. “There’s a Council meeting at the library at seven o'clock.”

Ivy stared out the window and sighed with relief. Her mother was up and about already because of a Council meeting. Not because she’d found Spike.

Outside, Mrs. Bennett from across the street was watching her seven-year old son, Josh, walk to the bus stop. Two women wearing fleece jogging suits traveled briskly past the house. Mrs. Quincy’s cat, Midnight, stalked birds in the neighbors yard. If Spike was out there, she didn’t see him. Ivy glanced around the living room to make sure Devlin wasn’t looking out the window as well—Midnight needed a break. The room was as clean and neat as always. No bulge behind the drapes. No one crouched behind the sofa. No Spike, no Devlin. Ivy joined her mom in the kitchen.

“There was a break-in last night over at the Harrison’s house on Culver Street,” her mother said.
 

Ivy’s heart skipped a beat. “What happened?”
 

The teakettle whistled on the stove and with a wave of her mother’s hand, a cabinet door opened and two white tea cups with matching saucers flew to the table. “The Harrisons are okay. They’d just gotten home from dinner at the Wok of Life. A man and a woman ran out the back door. The Harrisons were lucky. They think the people who broke into their house were the same people Gloria saw attack her brother-in-law. Nothing was taken that they could tell, but the whole house was ransacked.”
 

A drawer opened and spoons fluttered out, finding their way alongside the teacups. A couple of tea bags and the sugar bowl soon joined them. Milk from the fridge materialized on the center of the table. The teakettle hovered above each cup long enough to pour hot water before returning to the stove.

Ivy took a seat across from her mother. “What does the Council plan to do?”
 

Her mother shook her head. “Form a hunt. Whoever is behind this can’t hide if all the Kindreds work together. Two murders and a break-in. I’ve taken extra precautions and put Warning spells around the perimeter of the house this morning. If someone steps foot outside after dark, I’ll know.”

Good tip,
Ivy thought.
 

Two bowls and a box of cereal drifted toward the table.

“The Council is concerned that these people were...” her mother took a deep breath. “That they were looking for those...books. The ones the Council thinks your father took from Helen Skinner. Unfortunately, someone is using one of them—
The Book of Lost Souls.
The Council is saying that the people who broke into the Harrison’s house are conjured souls.” She shook her head. “We’ve been dreading it for years. Well, ever since your father left. The Regulars never knew exactly what those books could do. I suppose that the Council will have to tell them. We just need to band together and catch whoever is using these books again. Dark magic like this always leaves a mark. Sooner or later, the Kindred using it will go mad. Hopefully, we’ll catch them before something else tragic happens.”

Ivy suspected that her mother would have a fit if she knew her own daughter had one of Skinner’s books hidden in her room. If the town were searching for the person responsible, it’d be best to keep quiet. If anyone found out she had
The Rise of the Dark Curse
, they might just stop searching for the real culprit and blame her for what had happened. She was her father’s daughter after all.

“Mad?” Ivy repeated.

“Oh, yes,” her mother said. “At first, they just become a little irritable. Act out of character. It’s the books. It’s like an addiction. They start to blatantly perform darker and darker magic, not caring who sees them. Eventually, they just lose themselves to the book and the evil inside it. Problem is, it could take the better part of a month. If you see anything, Ivy, anything at all—someone acting odd or anyone performing illegal magic, then you let me know immediately.”

“Mom?”

“Hmmm?” her mother said, raising the teacup to her lips.

“You don’t think he’s back, do you?”

The teacup fell from her mother’s hands, spilling tea onto the table. They both knew they were speaking about Ivy’s father.
 

“No,” she said firmly. She got to her feet, took the dishrag and began to manually clean up the mess. She rubbed the table harder and harder, even though there wasn’t any more tea to clean up. “Now, you listen to me, Ivy! He’s
never
coming back. If someone has the books, they’ve taken them from your father and returned here. Northwick would be the last place I’d ever expect to see your father. The Council would find him,
destroy
him like he did Helen Skinner.”

Ivy stood and tried to stop her mother from wiping the varnish off the table. “Mom, it’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Her mother had loved him. Trusted him. He’d left her with a daughter who’s eyes reminded her of him. He’d left her with a broken heart and shame. Her mother had spent years regaining the trust of the Council and the town.
 

Ivy shouldn’t have said a word about her father. Not one word. If there was any hope of telling her mother that she had one Skinner’s books, or that Spike was somewhere in the house—and still human, that hope was now gone.
 

CHAPTER 24

Stopping her mother’s hurt and anger was like trying to stop a hurricane. She snatched the dishrag back from Ivy and stormed over to the sink, wringing the cloth over and over again. “He said he just wanted to make sure Helen Skinner wasn’t going to start using them again. He promised me that he was stronger than anyone else who had been allowed to see or read the books. He
wasn’t
.”

Her mother tossed the dishrag aside. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to—”

Ivy hugged her mother. “It’s okay. I understand.”
 

Devlin finally made his way to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway and barked.

Her mother turned toward him. “Well, it’s about time, sleepy-head. I suppose you want your breakfast?” She made a single swoosh with her wrist and Devlin’s bowl floated up onto the counter. Devlin backed up and barked again.

“I think he needs to go out,” her mother said.
 

Somehow, Ivy doubted that the need to water the roses or chase Midnight was Devlin’s problem. She was betting he’d found Spike.

Her mother glanced at her watch. “Is it seven already? I have to go or I’ll get stuck sitting in the back of the meeting. Don’t forget, I’ve got the girls night out dinner after work. There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want them. I should be home around nine.”

Devlin pawed at the floor. Ivy put a finger to her lips. Devlin whined, but acknowledged the need to wait and be quiet.
 

Her eyes darted around the room in case Spike had mysteriously shown up at a very inopportune time. Thankfully, it was still Spike-free.

“I’ll be
fine
, Mom. Shayde and I were planning on studying tonight anyway.”

Her mother moved from the kitchen to the small coat closet in the foyer, pausing with her hand on the door knob. Devlin cocked his head, eyes trained on closet.
 

“Ivy? Would you mind emptying the dishwasher?”
 

Ivy held her breath as her mother opened the closet door. Inside, there were only coats, the vacuum cleaner, and a few pairs of boots. “Sure. No problem.”

“You’d better let Devlin out,” her mother said. “He’s acting like he’s going to spring a leak.”

Indeed Devlin did seem rather anxious. He was standing on the sofa thrashing a pillow. Patience wasn’t in a Beezlepup’s nature. The front door had barely closed and her mother was still bustling down the walkway when Ivy snatched the pillow from Devlin’s mouth. He’d managed to tear it. “Repair,” Ivy said, dragging her fingers across the small holes in the fabric.

Devlin was now upside down and wedged between the rest of the cushions. “
Narrn, narrr!”
he said, staring up at her.