“A relief?” I ask. “We’re talking about the most fearsome monsters of the Underrealm and you think that’s a relief?”
“They found an unconscious waitress at that party you went to this evening,” Simon says, his voice far too chipper sounding for such a revelation. “I had to do some damage control and convince everyone she’d had a heart attack like I did with that student. But I was beginning to think you had some kinky fetish for stopping pretty girls’ hearts, which you and I were going to have to have a little chat about. It’s a relief knowing we won’t have to have such an awkward conversation. I’d much rather deal with a monster on the loose.”
“Then you know how to deal with it?”
Simon smiles, but there’s an accusatory narrowing of his eyes. “Any thoughts on how it got here?”
I almost bring up the theory I’d postulated when Dax had told me about that Pear Perkins girl having a heart attack—that perhaps a Keres had somehow stowed away with us through the gate like Brim had. But I stop myself from mentioning it, because the last thing I want is for Simon to try to pin responsibility for this happening on me. It was a highly unlikely theory anyway. A tiny cat hiding in my bag was one thing, but a large, shadowy monster going completely unnoticed by me and the entire crowd surrounding the gate was virtually impossible.
“I think it’s more important to focus on how to stop it,” I say.
“Leave this to me,” Simon says.
“You’ll contact the Court, then? You’ll ask them how to send this thing back? Or kill it?”
Simon draws one arm across his chest and uses the other to grab his elbow, pulling it tight to stretch his shoulder. “There’s no need to bother the Court with this matter.”
“But it could go on hurting people.”
Simon shrugs. “I don’t really care. I just need to clean up after it in order to keep too many people from asking questions.”
I realize then that Simon is more concerned with appearances than about the people this Keres could possibly hurt. Or kill, if it gets strong enough.
Which it will, if it goes unchecked.
“Then I’ll go after it myself,” I say, balling my fists.
“You don’t have time for such distractions,” Simon says. “Leave this to me. This isn’t your concern.”
“But that thing almost hurt my Boon,” I say. “That does concern me. And I’m sure it’s only just started with its attacks. If we don’t stop it now …”
Simon snaps his gaze in my direction. I don’t look away fast enough, and he locks eyes with me. “Drop it,” he says. “This conversation is over. Let me handle this.”
I find myself unable to speak anymore about the topic—but I know this matter is far from being over.
chapter thirty
DAPHNE
I don’t realize that I have been asleep until the sound of a phone ringing wakes me up. In my groggy, disoriented state, I find I am unable to tell if what had happened in the last few hours—the party, Lexie near the grove, strange shadows and lightning, Haden walking me home—had been real, or if I’d merely been having the strangest dream.
I blink several times and my eyes focus on the dirty, torn blue dress that’s draped over the back of my vanity chair.
Nope, definitely not a dream.
The clock on my dresser tells me it’s early Saturday morning. Too early for social calls, I think as I pick up the phone.
It’s my mother.
Her voice is bordering on shrill, and the notes of concern ringing through her words are so strong that I panic, thinking she’s somehow gotten wind of what happened after the party and is about to demand that I pack my bags and come home. Instead, I realize she’s saying something about CeCe.
I sit up in bed with the handset pressed to my ear. “What was that?”
“Have you heard anything from CeCe in the last week?” she asks.
“No. I’ve left her messages, but she hasn’t called back.”
“Nothing? No texts or anything?”
“No,” I say, not admitting that my cell phone is probably in some guy named Haden Lord’s bedroom. Who may happen to be related to a kidnapper, according to my new bestie. “Why?”
“She’s gone,” my mom says.
“What? What do you mean, gone?” I try to keep the panic from rising in my voice, but Tobin’s talk of missing girls is making me as paranoid as he is.
“Demi, you’re being overly dramatic and scaring the girl.” I hear Jonathan’s soothing voice and realize I’m on speakerphone. Probably in the flower shop, the faint buzz of the old cooler in the background. “Hey, honey, how was the fancy party? You took pictures, didn’t you?”
“It was … nice,” I say. “But what’s this about CeCe? I thought she had the flu.”
“She quit,” Jonathan says. “In a note, of all things, and right before we needed to get all the orders in for the Harvest Banquet.”
“Why would she quit?”
“I don’t know,” Mom says.