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“What does that mean?”
“Mr. Marchand is the guy, the guy growing all of the ingredients for the vampire whammy potions. It’s more than likely he’s the guy brewing and selling them. And I owe Mr. Crown a large apology.”
“Awesome, you figured it out,” she said. “What now?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t really help us.”
“Shoot,” she grumped. “I really thought you had something there.”
“Well, it does show what a gift she has for botany.” A new voice sounded to our right. We both jumped at the dulcet baritone. Gigi cowered at my side, ducking her head against my neck. Cool hands peeled down the blindfolds, and the smiling face of Colonel Sanders’s evil twin appeared in my line of vision.
Mr. Marchand greeted us cordially. “Ladies, thank you so much for visiting us this evening. I can see the blindfolds are no longer necessary, Miss Iris, since you are so very clever.”
We blinked as our eyes adjusted to the dark, fragrant recesses of Mr. Marchand’s garden. This was a section I hadn’t been shown before, a quiet little alcove near the west end of the porch. A gorgeous hydrangea bloomed to our left. A fountain—a woman pouring water from an earthen jar—burbled cheerfully near a little table and wrought-iron chairs. Little red Japanese lanterns swung from a line overhead. It would have been an elegant, peaceful setting, if not for the whole “hostage” thing and the fact that Cal was gagged and handcuffed to one of the wrought-iron chairs with his laptop open in front of him.>I heard Gigi clomp through the front door. “Iris, is everything OK? Why is the living room all messy?”
I looked up, unable to produce any sounds beyond heavy breathing. I had to stand, had to get up. I had to tell Gigi to get out. Lifting my arms to put my hands against the table took all of my strength. I imagined all of my energy gathering in my palms, pushing against the scarred pine surface.
“Iris, are you all right?”
“Geeeee,” I whispered, my eyes pleading with her. Run. Leave, run away, and never come back. Her pale, frightened face swam in front of mine.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I couldn’t even turn my head to see the vampire boy trotting into the kitchen. He dropped Cal’s laptop bag and a box of files on the table.
“Gigi?” he said, giving her a charming lopsided grin.
“John!” she cried, shooting a significant look at me. “Um, what are you doing here?”
Oh, right, my sister had been dating our burglar. Behind my back. The last tendrils of fog seemed to clear from my head. I narrowed my eyes at her and demanded, “Gigi, who is this?”
She blanched and looked down at the hands twisting in her lap. “Um …”
“Spill it,” I ground out.
“That’s John,” she said, giving a nervous little chuckle. “He’s sort of my boyfriend.”
“I thought … Ben?” I mumbled.
Gigi’s face sort of crumpled into that weird “there’s something I don’t want to tell you” origami expression. “Every time I was supposed to be going out with Ben, he would drive me to meet John.”
“Wh-why did Ben agree to that?” I asked, struggling over the syllables.
She shrugged. “Because he really likes me.”
“Gigi!”
“Shut up, both of you!” John yelled, exasperated. “This is not the time for girl talk.”
We both shrank back into our chairs, chastened.
“Both of you, just be quiet,” he said, his tone stern but not unfriendly. “Gigi, I’m very glad to see you. Now that you’re here, you can help me.”
The smooth, velvety tenor of his voice seemed to curl around her body, making her relax and sag into the chair. A dreamy smile tilted the corners of her mouth, and she leaned into the caress of his voice.
“Don’t you want to help me, Gigi?” he asked, his lips nearly touching her ear. She nodded, smiling shyly. “Just close your eyes and sit there quietly,” he whispered.
With his focus aimed elsewhere, I was able to move again, to concentrate. Gigi’s eyelids drooped, and her head dropped to her chest as if she’d suddenly decided to take a nap at our kitchen table.
“Hey!” I stood up from my chair, flinging it behind me. “What are you doing to her?”
