Dead Is the New Black (15 page)

"—chef someday," Ryan's dad continued blandly.

Poppy giggled madly, but Rose glared at her and she finally stopped.

Dinner concluded without any more inappropriate comments, much to my relief.

"Why don't you girls show Ryan the living room? Pete and I will clean up," Mom said. "There's something I want to talk to him about anyway."

"Ryan's seen the living room before, Mom," Poppy said dryly.

"C'mon, Poppy," Rose said, "You heard Mom."

Ryan started to take his plate into the kitchen, but Mom took it from him and shooed him off.

Ryan and I loitered in the hallway, out of their range of vision. He took my hand. "Was that weird or what?"

"The weirdest," I agreed. "What do you think they're talking about?"

"Probably a case they're working on," Ryan said. He pulled me closer.

Reluctantly, I put a hand out to stop him. "What if that's not what they're talking about?"

"Daisy, you worry too much," he replied. "Besides, what else could it be?"

"Us."

That one word galvanized him into action. He put a finger to his lips and led me back to just out of sight from the kitchen, still holding my hand. I could hear my mother's voice, but not what they were saying.

I moved closer, brushing against Ryan as I passed. My heart sped up but then slowed almost to a stop when I heard what my mother said next.

"I don't think we should do anything. Let the council handle it."

Ryan's dad said something I didn't catch.

Then my mom's voice came through loud and clear. "I can just see the county coroner's face when we tell them that the dead girl was spotted at Slim's Diner tonight."

Ryan pulled me closer and gazed into my eyes. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine, really," I said. But I wasn't fine. Samantha Devereaux's phony dead girl act aside, it made me queasy to think of a real dead girl, poor Chelsea Morris, hanging out at my favorite spot and stalking unsuspecting customers. "Let's go talk to my sisters."

They were in the living room. "What are we going to do?" Poppy asked after I told her what we'd overheard.

"I have an idea," I said. "Ryan and I will go look for the girl. Rose, can you call Nicholas and see if he knows anything?"

"All right, Daisy, but I'm not sure he'd tell me even if he did know anything," she said. There was a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"Is everything okay between the two of you?" I asked.

"It's okay," she said. "I just don't want to talk about it right now."

Poppy said, "It doesn't seem fair. What do I get to do?"

"Stay home and cover for us," I said.

"What should I tell them?"

"Tell them we went to get some ice cream for the dessert. But stall as long as you can!"

"What's for dessert?" Poppy asked, diverted by the mention of food.

"Brownies," I said. "Now do you think you can cover for us?"

"I'll think of something." I didn't like the mischievous look on her face, but there wasn't anything I could do about it now.

"Thanks," I said as we left. "And save me some brownies."

Slim's was empty, except for a couple making out in the corner booth. I couldn't tell who the girl was, because she wore a baggy black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, which obscured her face and hair. I recognized Bane Paxton, though, a senior at Nightshade, and if rumors were correct, a complete dog when it came to the opposite sex. He had a dopey expression on his face, which made me assume that the date was going well, at least by Bane's standards.

Ryan ordered a quart of mint chocolate chip—Poppy's favorite—while I moved to get a better look at Bane and his date. It was the baby vamp all right. Chelsea looked like a fledgling bird with her mouth open. She seemed to be trying to inhale Bane, but he took it as a signal to stick his tongue down her throat.

I started forward to warn him when there was a loud thud. Flo and Ryan froze as I dashed toward Bane, who was convulsing on the ground.

Flo grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

The baby vamp pushed past me and almost knocked me over as she bolted for the door.

"Stop her!" I said, but she was already gone. "Where'd she go?" I looked through the big bay window, but the street seemed empty.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement. I dashed out the door. I ran down Main Street in the direction I thought I'd seen something.

I heard Ryan's footsteps behind me, but I didn't slow down. I could see the figure of the girl up ahead. She was running now, too, and her hood fell down to reveal long red hair.

She turned the corner and headed toward a residential area. I followed, acutely aware that I was gasping for breath. Ryan was close to catching up to me, but I couldn't wait. The girl was only a few yards ahead of me now.

"Daisy!" Ryan hollered. "Do you realize we're following someone who could kill us?"

"We've got to see where she's going," I gasped. "You heard what they said at the council meeting. The fledgling can lead us to the vampire."

We were in an older section of Nightshade. Oak trees flanked the street and the houses sat back from the sidewalk as if they wanted nothing to do with the street.

She reached a row of neatly kept houses and veered quickly, changing directions.

"Chelsea! We can help you," I hollered.

"Nobody can help me," she shouted. She cut through a yard and hopped a six-foot fence with ease.

The stitch in my side stopped me. There was no way I could have caught her now, even if I had the superhuman strength needed to hop a six-foot fence like I was hopping over a jump rope.

I was bent over trying to remember how to breathe when Ryan caught up with me.

"Where'd she go?"

Still too winded to speak, I pointed.

Ryan started to take off after her, but I stopped him. "Too ... late," I wheezed.

A porch light came on and a figure appeared in the door. "Who is out there? What's going on?" I couldn't see her clearly, but the woman's voice sounded elderly, quavering, and fearful.

The figure moved to the front porch and peered at us.

She came down the stairs, and that's when I recognized her. "Daisy, is that you?" I swear the woman's voice changed, became lighter, more lilting somehow. It was Miss Foster, my gym teacher and cheer coach. "What are you doing here this time of night?"

"Just taking a walk, Miss Foster," I said. I hoped she couldn't see the sweat streaming from my forehead. "Sorry to have disturbed you."

Before she could reach us, I grabbed Ryan's hand and headed back the way we came.

"There's a mint-condition pink '57 T-bird in her driveway," I said.

Ryan looked at me admiringly. "You know a lot about cars."

"Just that model," I said. "My dad always wanted one. Not necessarily a pink one, of course. But that's not the point. The point is, Poppy and I saw that same car leaving the hospital when we went to visit Rachel."

"I've never seen it at school," Ryan said.

"Maybe she saves it for special occasions," I said darkly. "Like when she's sucking the souls out of innocent victims."

I was positive now that Miss Foster was our vamp. But I couldn't go to the city council armed only with suspicions. I had a feeling they'd stake first and ask questions later, and I didn't want to be responsible for an innocent woman's death. No, I had to find proof that Miss Foster was our vamp and I needed to find it soon.

When we got back to Slim's, the ambulance had already left.

"How is he?" Ryan asked Flo.

She shrugged. "They wouldn't tell me much," she said, "but they did say that it was lucky I called 9-1-1 when I did. A few minutes later and he would have died."

She handed Ryan a quart of ice cream. "Here you go. The other one melted."

There was still a sticky puddle on the floor where Ryan had dropped the ice cream to chase after me.

"Flo, do you remember anything about the girl who was with him before he collapsed?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Not really. Although I did notice her tattoo. A tiny four-leaf clover on her hand," she replied.

"Thanks, that's helpful." It was our dead girl, I was sure of it. I wandered over to the booth where Bane and Chelsea had been earlier. Nothing there. Not a clue about where she'd gone or what she was doing at Slim's, besides making bad dating choices. I wanted to bang my head against the table, I was so frustrated.

My cell rang. I thought about ignoring it, but I could see it was my sister.

"You've got to get back here now," Poppy said in a low voice. "Mom's going ballistic. I sorta implied something. I didn't know Mom would freak. I'm really sorry. I had to come up with something."

I started to ask her what was up, but she had already clicked off.

Chief Mendez and Mom were waiting for us outside by the time we got back.

"Don't say a word, young lady," she said, practically the second we got out of the car. "You are in so much trouble." I glanced at her face and knew she spoke the truth. Mom was pissed, but about what?

"For going to get ice cream?" I said, truly puzzled.

"You've been gone over an hour," Mom said. "Don't tell me it takes that long to get ice cream. We know exactly what you two have been doing and it's going to stop."

I felt the heat creeping up my face and refused to look at Ryan. Either my mom had an exceptionally suspicious mind or Poppy had royally screwed things up this time. What was really weird is that I'd never seen Mom act like that before, not even when she'd caught the usually saintly Rose sneaking out of her room with Nicholas Bone when she was a junior.

"But Mom—" I tried to get in a word.

"You're grounded," she said, "and that's final."

Ryan had been studying his sneakers intently, but when Mom said that, his head snapped up and he finally looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was nearly as embarrassed as I was, but he forged ahead anyway. We couldn't miss homecoming.

"Ms. Giordano, Daisy and I weren't doing ... anything wrong," he said. "We were at Slim's when Bane Paxton had a seizure. Flo called 9-1-1 and everything."

"Oh," Mom said. She was silent for a moment. "Oh, I'm so embarrassed. Daisy, I apologize for jumping to conclusions. When Poppy said ... I naturally assumed..." She trailed off uncertainly.

For a second, I thought about blurting out that Ryan and I knew all about the psionic vampire they were chasing down, so they would stop treating us like children and whispering about it behind closed doors. But I took a deep breath and remembered that Ryan's dad was probably in the council, and those guys seemed capable of doing some serious damage. I needed to stick to the original plan of cold, hard proof on Miss Foster before I went to the authorities. And that included my mom.

"Let's go inside and have dessert," Ryan suggested, "before the ice cream melts any more than it already has."

I wondered to myself what in the heck Poppy had said to get Mom so fired up. Whatever it was, I needed to make sure to avoid any mention of it in the future.

Chapter Nineteen

Finally, Saturday arrived. The big homecoming game. I stood there on the field shivering in my cheerleading uniform. Despite the cold, Samantha looked radiant.

I had never been a huge fan of football before, but one look at Ryan in his football jersey and I was hooked. After about a month on the cheerleading squad, I had finally figured out some basics. Sean threw the ball, Ryan caught the ball, and Wyatt Pearson tackled anyone who got in their way.

Truthfully, I'd never even been to a football game before becoming a cheerleader. Still, I felt a secret thrill when Ryan ran forty-five yards for a touchdown. The crowd roared its approval.

I turned to Sam. "That's good, right?"

Penny smirked, but Sam smiled. "That's
great,
Daisy," she said.

I did a triple cartwheel and then ended with splits.

We were playing the San Carlos Squids, and we absolutely clobbered them. The game ended with a 21…14 victory for the Sea Monsters.

After the game, the cheerleaders hustled to Samantha's house to prepare for the dance. The Devereaux house was palatial by Nightshade standards. I had been there tons of times back in middle school. But this time, something was different. Like a significant lack of furniture.

The Devereauxs' great room was a hugely imposing space that used to be decorated with leather sofas, oriental rugs, and enormous mahogany bookcases. The room seemed even bigger without the bookcases. The walls were faded in the places where paintings used to hang.

"We're redecorating," Samantha said. "Now, quit gawking so we can get busy."

She led us all upstairs to get ready. I noticed with amusement that her bedroom, unlike her wardrobe, hadn't changed. It was still frilly and pink.

"I don't know why they have to have the dance the same night as the game," Penny complained. "It doesn't give us enough time to get ready." She seemed so low energy lately. Even though we weren't the best of friends, I still worried her soul was slowly being drained by the vamp. If she had a soul, that is. She hadn't shown much evidence of one.

"It's tradition," Samantha said. "So the players have something to look forward to if they lose."

"Fortunately, we won," I said. "But a slow dance isn't much of a consolation."

"So says the innocent," Samantha said knowingly.

As I pulled on my dress, I listened to the other girls discussing what they hoped to do with their dates later that night. It made me nervous. I wondered what Ryan expected.

"How are you and Wyatt getting along?" Mari Lopez asked Jordan as they applied their makeup in Samantha's vanity mirror.

"All right," Jordan answered indifferently. She giggled and added, "But he has more hands than an octopus."

"Slug him," I suggested.

"What for?" she said, staring at me vacantly.

Samantha offered to do my hair and makeup. Since she always looked like she was ready for a formal dance, I figured she'd do a better job than I would. An hour later, I had been poked, prodded, and powdered into perfection. Or at least as close to perfection as I was going to get. Samantha had tamed my unruly hair into a crown of curls and did my makeup with an expert hand.