We’d be able to save Sarah Randall.
Moth wings fluttered in my belly as I daydreamed about rescuing the Grabber’s current victim. No one should have to suffer the nightmare of being kidnapped, but at least if we solved the mystery of the Grabber’s identity, we could save her life. It would take time to get over the trauma, but she’d survive.
I should know.
All thoughts of taking a break were gone. My earlier fatigue was forgotten as we flipped back through phone book yellow pages, hoping to find a match for the mysterious symbol.
Unfortunately, this was a dead end.
“That was the last one,” Emma said, pushing the thick phone book aside.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and yawned.
“Time for a drive?” I asked. I held up our list of names and business addresses. “We could visit each of these locations. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the symbol will be posted on a sign or shop window.”
My stomach growled like an angry wendigo. I pressed a hand to my middle, wishing I’d brought more trail mix. I’d already eaten the emergency rations I kept in my backpack. I should have known better than to bring just one bag. Research made me hungry.
Simon snorted and Emma laughed.
“I think it’s time for dinner,” Cal said.
He smiled down at me, blue eyes shining through shaggy hair. I was hungry, but I wasn’t going to give up on finding Sarah Randall. We didn’t have time for a sit down meal, but there were other options.
“Okay, let’s grab take-out,” I said. “If we use the drive-thru at Mr. Green Genes, we can search for the symbol while we eat.”
“Are we all going in my car?” Emma asked.
We’d never all fit in Cal’s truck, and there’s no way I’d ride on Simon’s motorcycle, so the question was valid. If we decided to ride together, Emma’s car was our only choice. But should we split up and cover more ground? I felt safer with us all working together, but if it meant that Sarah Randall had a better chance of survival if we split up, then that’s what we would do.
“We’ll cover more ground if we go in pairs,” I said. I handed half the list to Emma. “You take Simon and I’ll go with Cal. Call if you find anything.”
As an added bonus, I wouldn’t have to witness Simon eat. The plan was made of win.
Chapter 45
Simon
There were too many addresses to check in one night. The list that Emma held had more names than my little black book.
That is really saying something.
Emma and Yuki had included photographers whose business locations were outside of Wakefield and yet had worked here for a few seasonal events. This was based on the theory that the Graduation Grabber was not a resident of Wakefield, but had a reason to come here during the month of June when he used it as his hunting grounds.
As far as theories go, it wasn’t half bad. Even my wolf spirit knows instinctually that you don’t foul your own den.
But the addresses outside of Wakefield were too far afield to canvas in one night. So we had begun with the businesses within the local zip code. Unfortunately, the starburst symbol was nowhere to be found.
At midnight, after hours of searching, we decided to call it a night. Strands of Emma’s silky hair had escaped the twist at the back of her neck and the paper that the list was written on was now wrung into a small wad of accordion folds. The excitement of the chase had fizzled into an exhausting, monotonous tension.
While driving Emma home, I knew that she was not in the mood to discuss our future, but recent events had triggered my protective instincts and I let myself succumb to my emotions.
“Stay with me,” I said.
My hands tightened on the wheel as a lump formed in my throat.
“What?” Emma asked.
“After graduation,” I said. “Don’t leave. I don’t think I can bear your absence. I need you with me, where I can protect you. So, stay with me.”
“Oh Simon,” she said. Emma reached out and touched my face, brushing along the scar on my cheek until her hand rested on my arm. “I love you too.”
I sucked in a breath. I knew that Emma cared about me, but until this moment I hadn’t heard those words from her lips. My heart filled, then fluttered. I did love Emma, but my feelings often terrified me.
The pain of loss is unbearable when you truly love someone.
“Will you stay with me?” I asked.
I held my breath and waited. The silence seemed to drag on while streetlamps marked the passage of time as one by one they ghosted overhead.
“No,” she said.
“But…” I said.
“Wait, let me explain,” she said. Emma grimaced. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
Was she breaking up with me? If so, I was a bloody fool to fall in love again. It always ended badly.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” she said, clenching her hands into fists. Emma lifted her chin and sat up straight, meeting my glance. “And I understand why you want me to stay. I would have asked you to come with me, but I realize the importance of your duties to the pack.”
“You want me to go with you?” I asked.
“Yes, but I know that you can’t,” she said.
It was true. As much as it pained me, I couldn’t leave Cal and the pack behind. I had sworn an oath and I wouldn’t go back on my word. I would miss Emma while she was away at school, but at least now I knew that she’d be missing me too.
“You’re right, love,” I said. I let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t stray far from the pack. They need me.”
“And I need to go,” she said. Emma’s lower lip trembled, but she squared her shoulders and stared straight ahead. “I’ve dreamed about becoming a veterinarian, being able to help sick and injured animals. This is what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now with the pack, I have a job waiting for me when I graduate college. I won’t let this chance pass me by.”
I realized then that I’d been wrong to ask Emma to stay. She was strong and could take care of herself. We would survive the long distance relationship, and when she graduated we would both be working toward the same goal. Together we could ensure the safety of the pack.
How did I end up with such a perfect mate?
“God, I love you,” I said. There, I’d done it. The words were out and I was committed. But if I was honest with myself, I’d been committed to this relationship since the moment I met Emma. When it came to my feelings, I was a slow learner. “And, I support you.”
“Like I said before,” she said. Emma’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned in close, lips parting. “I love you too.”
Chapter 46
Yuki
I lay tangled in my sheets, clutching a dung beetle plushie to my chest. I needed a good night’s sleep if we were going to continue our search for the Graduation Grabber and the missing girl Sarah Randall, but I felt too wired. Staring at the ceiling, I counted the glow-in-the-dark stars that Cal had put above my bed ages ago. He’d placed them in constellations; the Big Dipper, Centaurus, Hercules, Draco, Aquarius, Ursa Major, Hydra…
Huh, sleep came after all.
Too bad it was a nightmare. I opened my eyes to see a stack of cardboard boxes swim across my vision. The room was all too familiar.
I was in the school supply closet, and I wasn’t alone.
Someone held my wrists behind my back with large, sweaty hands while his teammates taunted me. The room was small and each wall was lined with oversized football players. Their nylon jerseys swished as they puffed out their chests and flexed their muscles. Neanderthals.
This time, I kept my comments to myself. I’d learned that my dream tormenters were even more cruel than their real-life counterparts. I bit my lip and waited for what would come next. But instead of the usual threats from the J-team, and Zempter’s lengthy evil-villain monologue, a girl floated toward me.
She was young, pale…and covered in blood.
“Roses are red,” she said, laughi
ng. I was pretty sure that this was Rose Peterson, and the blood covering her was definitely red. Subtle she was not. “Violets are blue. I died at the hands of the Grabber…and YOU WILL TOO.”
She disappeared in a burst of golden sparkles, leaving the cloying scent of roses. Where she had stood, or creepily floated, sat a girl I hadn’t met, but recognized as Sarah Randall. Her wrists and ankles were bound with rope and tears ran down her face to soak the filthy cloth tied in her mouth.
“Don’t cry,” I said. I knew my tormenters would punish me for speaking, but I had to try to comfort her. “I’ll save you.”
The jocks started laughing and the room spun. Harsh fluorescent light shone on shark teeth that flashed from cruel mouths.
“Freak,” Jared Zempter said. He spat on the floor at my feet. “How can you save her, if you can’t even save yourself?”
“Yes, dear,” a witch said, appearing from behind one of the boxes. She was one of three witches from another familiar nightmare. Great, now my nemeses were joining forces in my sleep. “You cannot save them. Not unless you return the amulet.”
Ever since “borrowing” Nera’s amulet, an amulet with magical powers to protect the wearer from spirits of the dead, from an occult shop rumored to be owned by witches, I’d had nightmares about the witches coming for what was theirs. In every dream, my friends died and I became engulfed in rivers of their blood.
Yeah, not fun.
Gnarled, talon-tipped fingers clawed at my chest, searching for the amulet. I struggled to pull away, but the jock behind me held tight to my wrists. Jared Zempter pulled a long, wicked blade from his belt and came to tower over me.
“We are going to have so much fun with this one,” he said, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
Jared never went anywhere without backup, but his friend wasn’t Jay Freeman, the other half of the J-team. The man standing with him looked older, but his face was a blank canvas. He lifted his own knife and a whimper escaped from Sarah Randall’s hunched form.
I knew who Jared’s new friend was. The man looming over me was the Graduation Grabber.
With a shriek, I kicked out at my assailants…and tumbled out of the supply closet into another realm. A warm breeze tickled my face and whispered through the dry grass where I now sat. I was in limbo, the dream-like space between our world and the ever-after.
But how did I end up here?
“What are you doing here, child?” my spirit guide asked. A gigantic dung beetle towered above me, antennae twitching. “I was not expecting you.”
“Um, I don’t know,” I said, brushing dirt off my pajamas.
In the supply closet, I’d been in my usual Goth attire, but now I was in the pink skull pj’s I’d gone to sleep in. I looked down to see Jack Skellington slippers on my feet. Right, I definitely was wearing boots when I kicked out at Jared Zempter, the witch, and the Grabber. Could this night get any weirder?
“I smell fear on you, little one,” my spirit guide said. Its arms waved in the air above my head. “Do not allow fear to blind you. Open your eyes and follow the words of the snake, the cry of the cat, and the rays of the sun.”
I opened my eyes, blinking up at the constellations above my bed. Follow the words of the snake, the cry of the cat, and the rays of the sun. Oh yeah, like that wasn’t vague or anything.
Why do spirit guides have to be so fond of riddles?
After my sucktastic night of spooky nightmares and cryptic dreams, I was exhausted. Too bad the sun was creeping its way across my bed. It was time to get up and start the day.
It was time to find the Grabber.
Chapter 47
Emma
I yawned as I plunked myself down beside the snake cage. After a night out searching for the Grabber, I was worn out. I rubbed at my sore neck and grabbed the morning reports, scanning for anything important.
The animal shelter where I volunteer is a small facility, but it provides services for all of Yorkshire County. Funding had dried up, which meant we were understaffed and overworked. Other local shelters had closed their doors, so we were all that was left.
Saturday mornings were chaos, which is why I chose that day to volunteer. It was when the shelter needed me most. But today I was weary of the kennel. During weekend shifts, the sound of dogs barking never waned as potential owners scouted for the perfect pet to adopt. Not many people came into the reptile room, which is why I sought refuge here.
Well, one of the reasons.
The reptile room was a quiet respite from the echoing walls of the kennels, and busy adoption frenzy at the front desk, but that wasn’t the only reason I came here when I was stressed. The snakes calmed me.
When snakes first started talking to me, I had avoided them. But recently I discovered that their presence was soothing. Duvet, the boa constrictor who sat in the cage at my elbow, often whispered to me. Its sibilant voice was calming.
Yeah, I know, I’m the crazy snake lady.
I flipped through the reports, checking the lists for recent adoptions, new arrivals, and calls for animal control. Since there was no funding our county didn’t have an animal control officer, so calls often came to the shelter or went to the police. Ultimately, we learned of any strays, but dealing with them was another story. “Collection duty” was left to volunteers willing to take the risk.
Scanning the logs, I found multiple reports of an animal noise complaint. Repeated complaints had been called in three nights ago. Residents of an apartment complex in the neighboring town of Sansborough had reported loud wailing and crying from a stray cat that woke them from their sleep. The address of the apartment building was at 115 Sheridan Street.
That address niggled. I reread the report—115 Sheridan Street, Sansborough Maine—and seeing the full street address pushed a memory to the surface. Wasn’t there a photography studio on Sheridan Street?
Holding the report in a white knuckled grip, I strode to the nearby break room. I pulled my messenger bag from the cabinet below the coffee maker and quickly retrieved our list from last night’s search.
Goosebumps rose along my arms. One of the photography studios on the list was located at 117 Sheridan Street. Oh em geesss.
That was no stray cat. The crying that pulled residents from their beds three nights ago wasn't from a feline—that voice was human.
We had found Sarah Randall.
Chapter 48
Calvin
Yuki bounced in her seat, fork splashing strawberry juice from her waffles onto the table, as she spoke rapidly on the phone. Usually I gave Yuki her privacy and tuned out my werewolf hearing, but it was obvious that Emma had some exciting information.
Had she found a clue to the Grabber’s identity?
Leave it to Emma to manage research while working. During her shift at the animal shelter, Emma had read reports of a stray cat in Sansborough, outside an apartment building at 115 Sheridan Street—beside one of the photography studios on our list. No one had reported seeing an actual cat. The residents who called it in, complained of a cat waking them from their sleep as it wailed outside their building. The event took place three nights ago, the same day Sarah Randall went missing.
Emma had pieced the clues together and called another volunteer to finish out her shift at the shelter. That was when she had called Yuki, making her splash sticky syrup all over the glass covered tablecloth.
I had taken Yuki out for breakfast hoping that waffles covered in ice cream and strawberry syrup would coax her to eat. Being actively plagued by a ghost, even one whose smell impression wasn’t a foul stench, often made it difficult for Yuki to eat.
Plus, I suspected that Emma’s concerns over Yuki’s mental health were accurate. When I picked her up this morning she looked as though she spent the entire night wrestling with her demons. She may wear dramatic makeup, but the dark circles around Yuki’s eyes weren’t completely intentional.
But Yuki was awake now and smiling from ear to ear. I matched her smile with my own and fla
gged down our waitress to pay our check. Emma was on her way and Simon would join us before we left town.
It was time to rescue Sarah Randall.
“You were listening, right?” Yuki said.
Yuki ended the call with Emma and continued to bounce in her seat. She clapped her hands and smiled, looking like a little kid—a kid wearing a spiked collar and red lipstick. It was unbelievable cute.
“Yes,” I said. “Sounds like Emma discovered a potential location for the Grabber. That was some quick reasoning.”
“I know, like, she’s totally amazing,” she said.
Yuki happily scooped up a forkful of ice cream smothered waffle and put it in her mouth with a contented sigh.
“She’s not the only one,” I said. I leaned across the table and kissed Yuki, licking away the whipped cream at the corner of her mouth. “And you’re twice as sweet.”
Yuki swallowed and a hint of pink showed through her white face powder.
“Only you would call me sweet, Calvin Miller,” she said.
I took in her appearance, dressed all in black with spikes at her neck and wrists. No, not everyone would think Yuki was sweet, but that’s just because they don’t bother to look beneath the surface. And they don’t kiss her while she’s eating waffles.
“I promise to do so every Saturday henceforth, my Dung Beetle Princess,” I said, standing and bowing at the waist.
Yuki groaned.
“Oh no, don’t start that again,” she said.
I took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She gasped as I stole another kiss. Someone at a booth behind ours started clapping.
“…mmm,” she said. That’s embarrassing”
“Embarrassing?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yeah, embarrassing, but yummy,” she said. “People are staring. Let’s get out of here.”
“After you, Princess,” I said. With a flourish, I gestured to the door. “Your carriage awaits.”