AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jared was out in the night, rain falling and the moonlight making the wet cobblestones look like shards of mirror sliding beneath his feet, by the time Ash came close enough to grab his elbow.
“Jared,” Ash said, panting. He sounded desperate. “If something bad is happening, it would be best if nobody saw a Lynburn at the scene.”
“If something’s happening?” Jared demanded. “What could be happening? What do you know?”
“There are people in Sorry-in-the-Vale who still talk about what happened at Monkshood!”
Kami’s distress was drilling through Jared’s head: he gritted his teeth. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh my God,” said Ash, the rain painting tears on his face. “You don’t know anything.”
“You know what, Ash? I don’t care,” Jared said, and ran.
Chapter Nineteen
The Bell, the Mist, and the Knife
The Bell and Mist was a tall, narrow redbrick building, built on a little cobblestoned rise, so the floor was uneven. Across the slanting floor about eleven people were dancing, and almost every stool was occupied. This was about as exciting as a weeknight got in Sorry-in-the-Vale. It wasn’t a bad night. The addition of Holly, sparkling on a barstool and clearly pleased to be there, brightened up the whole occasion.
“I think my last girls’ night was when I was eleven,” Holly said. “At Nicola Prendergast’s place.” She shrugged. “Then I got boobs.”
Kami and Angela exchanged an uneasy look. They remembered: after that, it had been more comfortable for Holly to hang out with the boys, who suddenly liked her a lot more, than to stick with the girls, who suddenly liked her a lot less.
“Ah, Nicola’s,” Kami sighed. “That lost dreamland. She stopped inviting me because I talked to—” Kami checked herself. “Talked too much. But the joke’s on her, because now she has to buy her pastries.” She shot a look over at the other side of the bar, where Nicola and her friends were.
Kami hadn’t even been invited to the slumber party that Holly had mentioned, even though she’d always had best-friend pride of place before. She looked back at Angela, sardonic in red silk, and Holly, beaming in her pink sparkles. Friends who didn’t care how weird she was; in retrospect, Nicola had done Kami a favor.
“I used to think about going over to Nicola and the others on nights before this one,” Holly said, following Kami’s gaze. “But tonight I’m happy where I am.” She took a survey of the bar. “For one thing, when it’s girls’ night, guys look just as much, but they assume a lot less. Makes a nice change.”
It would be hard to assume with Angela leaning back on her stool and drawing a scarlet nail with deliberate meaning across her throat at boys who she thought were staring too long.
“I’m pretty sure that guy just wanted a packet of peanuts,” Kami said cheerfully.
“Not unless you are keeping peanuts in your bra,” said Angela.
“I keep all sorts of things in my bra, actually,” Kami told her. “It’s always a bit of a shock when I’ve forgotten my phone is in there and it vibrates.”
“I think Angie’s right, as it happens,” said Holly. “There’s no way that guy was thinking about peanuts. But that’s a great dress.”
Kami shrugged. “Well, I work with what I have. It’s not like I can pull off jeans like you guys.”
“Don’t be dumb, you’re cute as a button,” said Holly. “Of course, Angie does specialize in making the rest of us look bad.”
“Don’t hate me because, et cetera,” Angela murmured, but her ears went pink. Kami was never going to inform Angela about that little tell.
It was soothing for Kami to have Holly confess to feeling a little overshadowed by Angela’s good looks as well, especially after Jared’s reaction—or conspicuous lack thereof—to her dress.
“I’ll just be a second,” said Holly, gesturing toward the door to the extension that led to the bathroom. “Then I believe you good-looking ladies owe me a dance.”
Kami sipped her drink and glanced at Angela. Angela was watching Holly maneuver through the crowd, tall in her high silver heels, smiling and moving politely past some guy despite his clear wish to detain her. Angela’s look at Holly was fond, but the gaze she swept toward Holly’s suitor and then the rest of the bar was scathing.
“Why are boys such a nuisance?” Angela wanted to know, after a long pause in which she apparently brooded over this unanswerable question.
“It’s hard to say,” Kami answered. “I put it down to irresistible charm and sparkling wit and try to move on. Though the heap of suitors at my feet makes moving difficult.” She made the straw in her drink walk across the bar, tripping over suitors that were actually cardboard coasters.
Angela raised a perfect eyebrow. “Sparkling wit?”
“Don’t feel bad, Angela,” Kami said. “You know guys, they only want one thing. Repartee. I can’t count how many times men have admired my well-turned phrases. The shallow jerks.”
