Darkangel(20)

No thought now of getting a pizza to go and taking it back to the apartment over the store. I knew I should probably high-tail it down to Tobias’s place and get my aunt, tell her what had just happened, but I hated to bother her, especially after the run-in we’d had this morning. Besides, I was supposed to be the next prima — shouldn’t I be trying to figure these things out on my own? Aunt Rachel would find out soon enough; she might be spending the evening with Tobias, but she wouldn’t stay over for the night. She never left me alone, not for that long.

So I continued walking up toward Grapes. I still needed to eat, one way or another, and better to do it in a familiar place surrounded by other people.

As I’d feared, the restaurant was crowded, but a group was just being seated outside as another party was leaving their table, and so I was able to snag that one. Normally I would’ve just sat at the bar and not kept a whole table to myself, but I wanted to snug in against the wall and feel something solid at my back. And apparently Linda, who was tending the bar and also doing traffic control, saw something in my face, because she didn’t even suggest that I not take that table.

“Rough day, huh?” asked Tina, the server who came up to check on me.

I knew her, of course, just like I knew everyone in Jerome, but she felt a little closer than some because she’d babysat me from time to time back when I was in elementary school. Neither she nor Linda were part of the clan, although as long-time residents, they knew about the McAllisters. Like Sydney, though, they could be trusted to keep our secrets. A quiet vetting process went on in our town every time a house or apartment became available. We made sure that no one moved in whom we couldn’t trust. It was a quiet spell, but an effective one, the charm that brought sympathetic souls to us.

“Rough day,” I echoed. “Yeah, you could say that. A glass of the Plungerhead, please?” I hadn’t bothered to look at the menu; I could probably recite it by heart at this point.

“Got it. Know what you want to eat?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. Pizza, yes, but I haven’t decided which one.”

She shot me a reassuring smile, then said, “I’ll get that wine for you right away.”

Goddess knew what was on my face right then, but I didn’t much care. It just felt good to be there, surrounded by familiar smells and friendly faces. About half the crowd was made up of tourists, but everyone seemed to be having a good time, so the energy was good…a far cry from what had been emanating from that entity back at the shop.

Another shiver, and I clenched my hands on the tabletop. No ghost like any I’d ever seen, but maybe the ghosts themselves would have some input. Normally I wouldn’t bother Maisie on a Saturday night, since she didn’t like crowds. In this case, though, I didn’t think I had much of a choice. I would have to try coaxing her out, see if she’d heard anything.

Felt anything.

I crossed my arms and wished I’d brought a jacket. Not much chance of that happening when I was bolting from the store like a frightened hare. Anyway, the chill moving through me right now didn’t have much to do with the air temperature, although I knew it would get cold outside damn quick once the sun was down. That walk over to rustle up Maisie would not be a comfortable one…and it would only be colder when I walked down to Tobias’s house.

But I wasn’t completely unprepared. Aunt Rachel had taught me a long time ago to always carry a scarf or wrap of some kind in my purse, so I reached in and pulled out the same pashmina I’d worn the night before. The bright emerald green wasn’t the best match with the pale blue top I wore, but I wasn’t trying to impress anybody.

I heard the door to the restaurant open, but I didn’t bother to look up. No, I stared down at the chipped polish on my nails and vaguely wondered when I’d have the time to take it off, and then tried to figure out why I even cared. I had much bigger things to worry about at the moment.

Someone approached my booth and sat down without so much as a by-your-leave in the seat opposite me. I looked up, frowning, a frown that only deepened when I saw who it was. Adam McAllister, my third-or-fourth cousin, someone I really didn’t feel like dealing with at the moment.

“Hey, Ange,” he said. “Word on the street is that you’ve been looking for love in all the wrong places.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“I heard about your little ‘incident’ at Main Stage last night.”

Damn. I’d almost forgotten about my scuffle with Perry in the parking lot the night before. “How the hell did you find out about that?”