“What, you’re too good for my cookies now?”
“No, but you took the paper doilies out, which means these aren’t for me.”
Amma started arranging the cookies on the tray. “Well, aren’t you a smart one. Takin’ these down to County Care. Thought those nice nurses might want a cookie or two to keep ’em company, these long nights.”
“So, can I go?”
“You’re simpler than I thought, if you’re thinkin’ Savannah Snow wants you anywhere near her place.”
“It’s just a regular old high school party.”
She lowered her voice. “There’s no such thing as a regular old high school party when you’re takin’ a Caster and an Incubus and a worn-out Siren with you.” Turns out, Amma could even whisper a pretty fierce scolding. Then she slammed the oven door and stood there with an oven-mitted hand on each hip.
“Quarter Incubus,” I whispered back. Like that changed anything. “It’s at the Snows’ house. You know what they’re like.” I did my best impression of Reverend Blackwell. “Fine, God-fearin’ folk. Keep a Bi-ah-ble right next to the bed.” Amma glared at me. I gave it up. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”
“If I had a nickel for every time you’ve said that, I’d be livin’ in a castle.” Amma covered the cookies in plastic wrap. “If the party’s at the Snows’ house, why are you goin’ anyhow? Didn’t even invite you last year, as I recollect.”
“I know. But I thought it would be fun.”
I met Lena on the corner of Dove Street because she’d had even less luck with her uncle and ended up sneaking out of her house. She was so afraid Amma would see her and send her back home that she parked the hearse a block away. Not like her car was hard to miss.
Macon had made it clear no one was going to any parties, not while the Order was still broken—especially not at the Snows’. Ridley had made it equally clear she was going. How did they expect her to fit in as a Mortal if she wasn’t allowed to do normal things with her new Mortal friends? Things were thrown. In the end, Aunt Del caved, even if Macon didn’t.
So Ridley had walked right out the front door, while Lena was left to find a way to sneak out.
“He thinks I’m in my room, sulking because he wouldn’t let me go out.” Lena sighed. “Which is where I was until I figured out my exit strategy.”
“How did you get out?” I asked.
“I had to use, like, fifteen different Casts: Hiding, Blinding, Forgetting, Disguising, Duplicating.”
“Duplicating? You mean you cloned yourself?” That was a new one.
“Just my scent. Anyone who Casts a Revelation on the house might be fooled, for a minute or two.” She sighed. “But there’s no fooling Uncle Macon. I’m dead when he finds out I’m gone. You think it’s bad living with a Seer? All Uncle Macon wants to do is practice his Mindhunting skills.”
“Awesome. So we have all night.” I pulled her closer to me, and she leaned her back up against her car.
“Umm. Maybe longer. There’s probably no way I’ll get back inside tonight. The place is Bound a thousand times over.”
“You can stay with me if you want to.” I kissed her neck, working my way up to her ear. My mouth was already burning, but I didn’t care. “Why are we going to this stupid party again when we have a perfectly good car right here?”
She pushed up onto her toes, kissing me until my head was pounding as hard as my heart. Then she pulled back, ducking away. “Aunt Mercy and Aunt Grace would really love that, wouldn’t they? It would almost be worth it to see the looks on their faces when I came down to breakfast in the morning. Maybe I could wear one of your towels.” She started to laugh, and I pictured it all right, only the shrieking in my head was so loud, I gave up.
“Let’s just say, the language could get a whole lot stronger than ‘fanny.’ ”
“I bet they’d call the ‘durned po-lice.’ ” She was right.
“Yeah, but I’m the one they’d have arrested for compromising your virtue.”
“Then I guess we better pick up Link, before you have the chance.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d set foot in Savannah’s house, but I started to feel uncomfortable the minute we walked up to the stairs. There were pictures of her everywhere—wearing sparkly tiaras and all kinds of MISS AREN’T-I-BETTER-THAN-YOU? sashes, posing with her cheer uniform and pom-poms—and a whole row of what I guess were supposed to be modeling head shots, featuring Savannah in bathing suits, with fake eyelashes and too much lipstick. From the looks of it, she’d been wearing lipstick since she got out of diapers.
Turns out, the Snows didn’t really need party decorations. Past the table covered with a hundred basketball cupcakes, past the punch bowl with little plastic basketballs frozen into the ice ring, past the chicken salad sandwiches made into basketballs with little round cookie cutters, Savannah was the biggest decoration of all. She was still wearing her cheer uniform, but she had written Link’s name on one cheek and drawn a giant pink heart on the other. She stood in the middle of the backyard—waiting, smiling, generally lighting up the place as if she was the Christmas tree at a Christmas party. And the minute Savannah saw Link, it was like someone had flipped the switch that turned on all her lights.
“Wesley Lincoln!”
“Hey there, Savannah.”