it was. She had wheedled an interview out of me—that was saying something. The girl just didn’t take no for an answer.
“Kinda makes you wonder,” Todd mused. “Pretty girl like that, with no boyfriend and no interest in any guy? Do you think she could be—”
“I don’t care,” I interrupted, pushing thoughts of Mackenzie St. James to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think about her. Because even if Kenzie was pretty and kind and had treated me like a decent human being, even though I was a total ass to her, I could not afford to bring someone else into my dangerous, screwed-up world. I was spending the evening teaching anti-faery charms to a piskie and a half-phouka; that was a pretty good indication of how messed up my life was.
A crash of thunder outside rattled the ceiling and made the lights flicker just as there was a knock on the door and Mom poked her head in. I quickly flipped the journal shut, and Todd snatched the notebook from where it lay on the bed, hiding the contents as she gazed down at us.
“How are you boys doing?” Mom asked, smiling at Todd, who beamed back at her. I kept a close eye on his piskie, making sure it didn’t dart through the crack into the rest of the house. “Everything all right?”
“We’re fine, Mom,” I said quickly, wishing she would close the door. She frowned at me, then turned to my unwanted guest.
“Todd, it looks like it’s going to storm all night. My husband is at work, so he can’t drive you home, and I am not sending you out in this weather. It looks like you’ll have to stay here tonight.” He looked relieved, and I suppressed a groan. “Make sure you call your parents to let them know where you are, okay?”
“I will, Mrs. Chase.”
“Did Ethan set you up with a sleeping bag yet?”
“Not yet.” Todd grinned at me. “But he was just about to, right, Ethan?”
I glared daggers at him. “Sure.”
“Good. I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning, then. And Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
She gave me a brief look that said be nice or your father will hear about this. “It’s still a school night. Lights out before too long, okay?”
“Fine.”
The door clicked shut, and Todd turned to me, wide-eyed. “Wow, and I thought my parents were strict. I haven’t heard ‘lights out’ since I was ten. Do you have a curfew, as well?” I gave him a hooded stare, daring him to go on, and he squirmed. “Um, so where’s the bathroom, again?”
I rose, dug a sleeping bag from my closet, and tossed it and an extra pillow on the floor. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right,” I muttered, returning to my desk. “Just be quiet—my dad gets home late and might freak out if he doesn’t know about you. And the piskie stays here. It doesn’t leave this room, got it?”
“Sure, man.” Todd closed the notebook, rolled it up, and stuffed it in a back pocket. “I’ll try some of these when I get home, see if any of them work. Hey, Ethan, thanks for doing this. I owe you.”
“Whatever.” I turned my back on him and opened my laptop. “You don’t owe me anything,” I muttered as he started to leave the room. “In fact, you can thank me by never mentioning this to anyone, ever.”
Todd paused in the hallway. He seemed about to say something, but when I didn’t look up, turned and left silently, the door clicking shut behind him.
I sighed and plugged my headphones into my computer, pulling them over my head. Despite Mom’s insistence that I go to bed soon, sleep wasn’t likely. Not with a piskie and a half-phouka sharing my room tonight; I’d wake up with my head glued to the baseboard, or find my computer taped to the ceiling, or something like that. I shot a glare at the piskie sitting on my bookshelf, legs dangling over the side, and she glared back, baring sharp little teeth in my direction.
Definitely no sleep for Ethan tonight. At least I had coffee and live-streaming to keep me company.
“Oh, cool, you like Firefly?” Todd came back into the room, peering over my shoulder at the computer screen. Grabbing a stool, he plunked himself down next to me, oblivious to my wary look. “Man, doesn’t it suck that it was canceled? I seriously thought about sending Thistle with a few of her friends to jinx FOX until they put it on again.” He tapped the side of his head, indicating my headphones. “Dude, turn it up. This is my favorite episode. They should’ve just stuck with the television series and not bothered with that awful movie.”
I pulled the headphones down. “What are you talking about? Serenity was awesome. They needed it to tie up all the loose ends, like what happened with River and Simon.”
“Yeah, after killing everyone that was important,” Todd sneered, rolling his eyes. “Bad enough that they offed the preacher dude. Once Wash died I was done.”
“That was brilliant,” I argued. “Made you sit up and think, hey, if Wash died, no one was safe.”
“Whatever, man. You probably cheered when Anya died on Buffy, too.”
I smirked but caught myself. What was happening here? I didn’t need this. I didn’t need someone to laugh and joke and argue the finer points of Whedon films with me. Friends did that sort of thing. Todd was not my friend. More important, I wasn’t anyone’s friend. I was someone who should be avoided at all costs. Even someone like Todd was at risk if I didn’t keep my distance. Not to mention the pain he could bring down on me.
“Fine.” Pulling off the headphones, I set them on the desk in front of the half-breed, not taking my hand away. “Knock yourself out. Just remember …” Todd reached for the headphones, and I pulled them back. “After tonight, we’re done. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look for me, and you definitely don’t show up at my front door. When we get to school, you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. Don’t ever come here again, got it?”
“Yeah.” Todd’s voice, though sullen, was resigned. “I got it.”
I pushed myself to my feet, and he frowned, pulling the headphones over his furry ears. “Where are you going?”
“To make some coffee.” I shot a glance at the piskie, now on my windowsill, staring out at the rain, and resigned myself to the inevitable. “Want some?”
“Ugh, usually that would be a ‘no,’” Todd muttered, pulling a face. Following my gaze to the window, his ears flattened. “But, yeah, go ahead and make me a cup. Extra strong … black … whatever.” He shivered as he watched the storm raging beyond the glass. “I don’t think either of us will be getting much sleep tonight.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE GHOST FEY
“Uh-oh,” Todd muttered from the passenger seat of my truck. “Looks like Kingston is back.”
I gave the red Camaro a weary look as we cruised past it in the parking lot, not bothering to think about what Todd might be implying. Hell, I was tired. Staying up all night as Todd watched reruns of Angel and Firefly, listening to the half-breed’s running commentary and drinking endless cups of coffee to keep myself awake, wasn’t high on my list of favorite things to do. At least one of us had gotten a few hours’ sleep. Todd had finally curled up on the sleeping bag and started to snore, but the piskie and I had given each other evil glares until dawn.
Today was going to suck, big-time.
Todd opened the door and hopped out of the truck almost before I turned off the engine. “So, uh, I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, edging away from me. “Thanks again for last night. I’ll start setting these up as soon as I get home.”
Whatever, I wanted to say, but just yawned at him instead. Todd hesitated, as if he was debating whether or not to tell