For purely selfish reasons, I hoped that renewing Marge’s visits with Danny would somehow result in Les going the opposite of crazy and dropping his suit. But I also hoped it would give Danny a greater sense of security, one more thing in his life that hadn’t changed. Because with the direction things seemed to be going with Wade, I couldn’t help but think that something in our lives was about to change all over again.
Just as I reached the far east side of town, my van’s dashboard lit up in an explosion of color, beeping and flashing like one of the video games I refused to let Danny play. I couldn’t tell which of my warnings was going off; I just knew that my engine was very angry with me and I should probably do something about it soon.
I glanced around, trying to determine my exact location. I was just inside the town limits, on Cary Street. Because the street was lined with storage facilities and used-car lots, there was no traffic at this time of night. In fact, the only motion I could make out nearby was a lone pedestrian walking down the middle of the street toward me, which didn’t make me feel entirely safe. I mean, as a vampire, I had a higher-than-average chance of surviving a mugging, but that didn’t mean I wanted to test the theory.
I could park my van here, lights and alarms flashing, and call Jane or Dick or Wade—wait, Wade’s shop was on this side of town. I pulled my phone from my purse and Googled the address of HMH Custom Cycle Parts. I was only two miles away. Maybe I could make it without my van catching fire?
I gently guided my poor vehicle around the corner, while the dashboard continued to bleat and flash. By the time I pulled into the shop’s parking lot, the van’s alarm system was going off for reasons I couldn’t quite figure out. I was surprised to find that instead of a mechanic’s shop, it looked more like an engineering firm. A clean, quiet blue building with an unassuming, unlandscaped entrance. The exterior didn’t even have a garage door, more of a freight entrance.
Wade came out the front door, a scowl on his face. When he saw me climbing out of the van and frantically clicking the keyless remote, his expression switched to one of concern. He rushed over and yelled over the noise, “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted as he ducked into my car and popped the hood. He started yanking and pushing, all the while looking very competent. “I was just driving along, and everything was loud and bright and—”
Suddenly, the blaring horn died. Wade straightened, looking triumphant.
“Oh.” I sighed. “That’s better.”
“That’s gotta suck when you’ve got superhearing, huh?”
“You have no idea,” I told him.
“What are you doing out on this side of town? I thought the boys were with you tonight.”
“Well, Kerrianne decided to show the boys how to make homemade pizza, which made the house smell to high heaven. I made my escape to drive over to Murphy to pick up some stuff for the Pumpkin Patch. And then my car had some sort of tantrum.”
Wade commenced poking things in the engine. “Yeah, I think the motherboard for your computer system has short-circuited. And your brake line looks a little worn. But I’m not sure. I can have my guys take a look at it. Terry loves that kind of thing.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. You said you had a special project to work on tonight.”
“Eh, we’ve reached a stopping point. And frankly, the guys could use a change of pace. They’re starting to get a little punchy, which is never good. I’ll give you a ride over to Murphy while they take a look at it. We’ve probably got the parts you need right here.”
“What is it exactly that you do here?”
He grinned at me but didn’t answer. “Just hold on a second.”
He jogged back into the building, and a few minutes later, the freight door opened. Two men came walking out—a tall man of solid build and a much shorter man with a rounded belly that hung over his belt. They were both young, the taller one much younger than me, with faint acne scars still spotting his cheeks. But they were moving swiftly toward me, as if eager to meet me. In fact, the shorter of the two had his arm outstretched before he was anywhere close.
“Hi!” he exclaimed. “I’m Terry. Are you Wade’s lady friend?”
“I am his friend,” I agreed, adding awkwardly, “who is a lady.”
“He said you’re having some trouble with your motherboard?” the taller man asked. Standing two heads taller than me, he was practically a giant, with high cheekbones and a prominent forehead. He looked like he should be swinging a broadsword somewhere instead of handling the comparatively tiny mechanisms of my engine.