The Book of Lost Souls (35 page)

Nick smiled slyly and shrugged almost confidently.

They stood there, staring at each other again.
 

“Are you going to force your girlfriend to make the first move?” Ivy finally asked.

“About that,” Nick said. “Think you can
handle
a demon boyfriend?” He grinned mischievously.

Ivy narrowed her eyes playfully. “Try me.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly, then again, longer this time and she eagerly and readily kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.
 

He was right—this was magic.
This
felt right. Everything except Nick ceased to exist, not the breeze around them, not the stars just making their appearance high above. It was like that afternoon in the woods, only better. This time, the dancing fireflies were in her heart.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, smiling at her. She let her hands slide around his waist, and he kissed her again.

When they broke apart, neither said another word. Other than
wow
, what could she say? She watched, breathless, warm, and unwilling to move as Nick slid behind the wheel of his Uncle’s truck and drove away.

“Y
es!”
she said as the truck’s taillights drove out of sight. Ivy raced up the front porch steps, taking two at a time. This is what it meant when people said love could make you leap over mountains.
 

Devlin hiccuped once and a tendril of smoke drifted out of his nostrils. He wagged his tail and looked up at her, black little Beezlepup eyes shining happily. She knelt down to hug him and remembered to check his collar.

Spike. She’d almost forgotten. At some point, he’d attached a tiny note to Dev’s collar. Ivy removed it, watching as the piece of paper unfolded and expanded until it was just longer than her hand. Handwritten words appeared across the page as she read it.

Dearest Daughter,

I can’t begin to explain. Just know that I’ve never been more proud, and that I never stopped loving you and your mother. I left to protect you both. It appears that I didn’t do such a good job. You and your mother are still in danger.

I’ll do what I can, but I can’t be seen, so I’ll need your help. No one must know I’ve returned.

You have questions, and in time, you’ll have answers. Unfortunately, more than is probably best for you.

I’m glad that Devlin is safe. He’s a great dog.

You’ll need a new book bag, but I’ve returned the gardening book. It’s on the chair on the side porch. I’ve taken The Rise of the Dark Curse and The Book of Lost Souls. As you’ve guessed, they don’t burn. They need to be in a safer place.

 
With a little help, Mr. Evans seems to have developed memory problems and has a misguided sense of what went on tonight. You won’t have to explain, the Council will never know, and your mother won’t have to have heart failure—at least until she discovers I’ve returned.
 

Maybe that’s a secret we should keep for now.

Unfortunately, I believe your mother is a bit upset that you were late for dinner and didn’t call. That, I’m afraid, you’re still on the hook for.
 

All my love,

Dad

The noted unfolded once more.
 

P.S. Nick is a real nice boy, but be careful dating demons, Ivy. Relationships with them can be rather intense. For the record, my money is on you. Enjoy this time in your life. Right now, the world is yours.

Ivy had no idea what her mother would learn about tonight’s events, and she was glad she wouldn’t have to explain. Regulars had their memories wiped all the time. She supposed that it wouldn’t be any more unusual to wipe the mind of a Kindred, although very few Kindreds even knew how to do it. Kindred minds were harder to alter.
 

Why her father had changed Mr. Evans’s memory was an entirely different matter, and doing it without Council approval was outlaw. Had he done it to protect himself, or his daughter? On the other hand, he could just as easily killed Mr. Evans if he truly
was
an outlaw.
 

A thought crept into her mind. Could her father be telling the truth? Did he still care? Did he still love her? Ivy looked at the note, unsure of what to do with it. Crumple it up, or stuff it in her pocket? She glanced down at Devlin and decided to tuck the note into her pocket—for now, anyway.

Out of everything that had happened to her in the past week the biggest of them all had occurred just a minute ago. No matter what new powers she had or where she’d gotten them, Nick had said it best—love was the one true magic above all others. Regardless of the chaos it presented.
 

Chaos.
 

Ivy smiled. What better way to get to know love than with a demon who knew
all
about mischief and mayhem? “See you tomorrow, Nick,” she whispered.

Everything hadn’t worked as planned, but turned out fine just the same. Better than fine. Better than
better
, even.

Ivy laughed and spun around on the porch, careful not to knock over the Jack O' lanterns. Dating a demon might be pretty intense, but it was something she looked forward to. Adventure had grown on her as well, and it’d be a nice break from sticking her nose in a book
all
the time. In fact, she might take a reprieve from books for a while.
 

After tonight, what could
possibly
happen? Change was good. Danger? What was that old saying? If it doesn’t kill you, it’ll only make you stronger? So, danger or not, with friends like hers, and a boyfriend like Nick, Ivy felt that she could take on all the danger and chaos in the world.
 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Everyone who has ever written a novel has had moments when they’ve questioned why they ever set out on such a journey. I’m not sure of his exact words, but Stephen King once said some wise words about writing that still resonate with me: that writers don’t write just for the money—they write for the love of writing. I’ve always been a storyteller. To me, that has been the easy part. The writing, the laying down of words? Well, that proved to be a bit more time consuming.

No writer ever goes it alone and stays totally sane, and there are people who have kept me off the Ledge of Crazy on more than one occasion.

First and foremost is my husband, Ray Rogers, who tirelessly read and reread without a single complaint—even the romantic parts. Not once did he object to the amount of time I spent in front of the computer. I don’t think I tell him how amazing he is often enough. Of course, he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen that I live on the Ledge of Crazy and that’s where we met.

And although they can’t read, special thanks to to my dogs who stayed patiently at my feet. When no one else in this world believes in you, your dog always will. They also provide comic relief. Thanks to my dog Ronan for inspiring the character Devlin. Ronan really is the original Beezlepup.
 

Every writer determined to see their book published depends on critique partners who are honest enough to tell it like it is. I’m honored to call D.B. Reynolds, Leslie Tentler, and Steve McHugh not just critique partners, but friends. Really, guys—your input, corrections, and thoughts have been invaluable. I couldn’t have done it without you.
 

Thanks to my sister, Sherry Nusbaum, who suffered countless phone calls whenever I had a new idea. I still remember the early days when we first worked on characters and names and so many other details you’ve read in this book. I swear, it’s a wonder that she doesn’t have call block because of me.

I’d also like to thank my fellow group members over at Kelly Armstrong’s On-line Writing Group who read and critiqued the first half of this book. You guys rock.

Special thanks also go to gifted book designer and fellow author Sam Torode who gave me a hand with the cover art. Thanks, Sam! Your version ended up looking so much better than mine.

And, thank
you
, Dear Reader. Because ultimately, every author with a story to tell writes with you in mind.