My Wolf’s Bane(22)

When they stared speechless, I was pretty sure I had them. “Both of you will go to Arizona. Turn down the others if you want, so long as you stay gone for at least two weeks.” I knew they’d negotiate it down.

“Autumn, I’m ashamed of you,” my mom scolded. “Two days. That’s it.”

“Ten days,” I said.

“Three days.” Dad’s eye twitched.

“Seven days.” I lifted my chin.

He folded his arms over his chest. “Three and a half days.”

“We could do this all night.” I glanced at the clock by my bed with exaggerated movements. “I’d rather you enjoyed yourselves for two weeks, but let’s cut to the chase. Four days or I’ll call Maya and start packing.”

My dad’s eyes turned to slits before sharing a look with my mom.

“Maybe we were wrong.” She tilted her head, studying me. “It’s possible we haven’t given you enough credit.”

Did that mean they were giving in?

“You have yourself a deal,” Dad said a moment later. “Four days. Goodnight, sweetheart.” He quietly closed the door behind him.

Yes! I did it. They were going to leave me alone for four long, glorious days. No one around to hover or obsess over me.

I allowed myself a moment to revel in my triumph, then sat on my bed and opened my laptop, determined to find something about my new and unusual abilities.

My situation was curious to say the least. Maybe I needed to think outside the box. Myths? Legends? Aside from vampires, werewolves and various other paranormal creatures, information was sorely lacking.

An hour later, I had accomplished just as much as the previous nights. Nothing. My only hope of discovering more about myself was taking the opportunity to experiment as soon as my parents were on a plane. I snapped my laptop shut in disgust and rolled over, drifting off with a vision of my mom and dad basking in the Arizona sun and having the time of their lives — just the two of them.

† † †

When I turned the key the next morning and my car did absolutely nothing, I plopped back against the seat. Right then, I would have given almost anything for a new car.

Hurrying back inside my house, I hoped one of my parents would be presentable enough to drive me to school. Otherwise, I was going to be late.

“Mom. Dad,” I called, my voice carrying beyond the empty living room.

“Car won’t start?” My mom popped through the kitchen doorway. She was all done up and completely gorgeous, her long black hair pinned up away from her neck and showing off her exquisite face.

“You’re psychic.” I smiled.

“Let’s go.” She found her keys and motioned to the door.

“We’ve decided to do the Arizona job, then come back here and regroup,” she said, once we were on the road.

“Where in Arizona?” I asked.

“Scottsdale.” She glanced over her shoulder before switching lanes. “But we’re leaving tonight, not Friday. We’ll eat dinner early, get ready and go for our run at the last minute. You can take us to the airport.”

Sooner? Bonus! But it was so strange, almost too easy. “Why the rush?”

She smiled. “We want to be home for your birthday on Monday. If we leave tonight, we can return Sunday night and would’ve fulfilled our end of the bargain. If the job isn’t finished yet, your father can go back alone.”

It was almost too good to be true. Except I didn’t love the idea of driving them to LAX on a Friday night up the 405 during rush hour. On the other hand, spending that time with them would be nice since they’d be gone for a few days. “What time is your flight?”

“We’re leaving out of Burbank at nine-fifteen.”

Going to Burbank airport would save me an hour of driving. Hallelujah.

My mom pulled up to the curb with five minutes to spare before my first class. We’d made good time. She unhooked her seatbelt and pulled her keys out of the ignition.

“What are you doing?” I wasn’t the only student who found it embarrassing for a parent to go inside the school.

“I can’t leave town without informing the principal and making sure he knows how to get in touch with me.”

“They have your cell on file, Mom. Geez,” I said glumly. Why did I think, even for an instant, they could go cold turkey? “You’re the only parent who’d speak with the principal in person. No one does that. See, this is a perfect example of why you’ve been blackmailed into leaving.”

She opened the door anyway, then stopped. “Who is that boy? He looks too old to be a student.”

I followed her gaze to the wide double doors of the school and instantly deflated. I didn’t bother hiding the antipathy in my tone. “That’s Zack. And, yes, he’s a student here.”