Soul Screamers, Volume 1

“Aah…” Harmony smiled knowingly as Emma stepped onto the porch. “You’re going to need some processed sugar. Come on in and have a cookie.”


Emma didn’t even try to resist. She’d had enough of Harmony’s treats to know better than to turn down the offer, even though she was already running late for work, thanks to our short detour.

Harmony closed the front door and followed us into the kitchen, where we gathered around the island and a plate of still-warm chocolate cookies, glittering under the fluorescent lights with a sprinkling of granulated sugar.

“I swear, Harmony, if you don’t stop baking, I won’t be able to fit in my own car. Assuming I ever get it back.” I let my backpack slide to the floor while I bit into the cookie, surprised to discover a sweetened-peanut-butter center. “I’m sorry my dad bugged you last night,” I said around another mouthful. “He totally overreacted.”

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to check in with him every now and then, to keep him from worrying.” Nash’s mom reached across the island to smack her son’s shoulder. “You, too. You have a cell phone for a reason.”

Nash shrugged and avoided answering by shoving an entire cookie into his mouth. But I felt obligated to answer.

“He’s my dad. He’s going to worry no matter what I do.” And part of me was grateful that he was concerned over something legitimate, rather than something stupid, like the lead content of my shampoo bottle. But the other part of me couldn’t quite escape the irony. For the past thirteen years, he hadn’t even known when my curfew was, and now he’d gone all father-of-the-year.

Before Addy’d called, we were on track to get home before anyone expected us. If I’d known what was going to happen, I’d have called my dad, even if only to make up a reason I’d be late. But after Addy’s call, things had moved so fast I’d honestly forgotten I had a cell, much less a curfew.

“Mmm,” Emma groaned around her first bite, and I swear her eyes nearly rolled back into her head. “Can I take one for the road?”

Harmony beamed and immediately began rooting through one of the island drawers. “I’ll pack several for you.”

Emma left five minutes later, armed with a paper bag of peanut-butter-surprise cookies and a private promise to meet us in Nash’s driveway at midnight. His mom would already be at work, and surely my dad would be asleep by then. Assuming I didn’t wake him sneaking out of the house.

With Emma gone, Harmony sent Nash to his room with a plateful of cookies and a strong suggestion that he take advantage of the privacy to do some homework.

When his Xbox whirred to life a minute later, we shared an eye roll. Nash would leave his homework until the last possible moment, and likely only half finish it. And he’d still manage straight Bs. If he’d ever actually applied himself, he could probably have been valedictorian.

Harmony poured soda over ice in two glasses, then gestured with a nod of her head for me to grab a couple of cookies on our way into the living room. “Your dad knows you’re here, right?” She sipped from her glass as she walked backward through the swinging door, to hold it open for me.

“Yeah. These lessons were his idea. He says arming myself with information is the best way to avoid trouble. Or something like that.” A fact I’d reminded him of when he threatened to make me come straight home from school.

With any luck, he wouldn’t guess that the knowledge I was about to arm myself with could get me into more trouble than he could possibly imagine.

Hopefully it would be enough to get us all out of trouble, too.

I had a vague plan for how to get Harmony to teach me what we needed to know, and to make her think it was her idea. Reverse psychology. It only works on preschoolers and adults.

“We could just skip today’s lesson and gorge on junk food instead.” I sank onto the couch and set the napkin-wrapped bundle of cookies on the coffee table. “We don’t have to tell my dad.”

The shades of blue in Harmony’s irises churned languidly, and her frown looked impossibly cute for an eighty-two-year-old woman. But then again, she was holding up remarkably well for an octogenarian. “Kaylee, you need to learn about your bean sidhe heritage and your abilities. I’d hate for you to stumble into something by accident later, like you did with Belphegore.”