“SOMETHING SMELLS AMAZING.” Winnie breathes deeply as she pushes open the door of Nevermore Bookshop. “That can only mean one thing.”
“Celeste is back,” I answer for her. Celeste has been running away to help her mum at least once a month now. As a vampire, I have no need of her sweet treats, but I miss Celeste when she’s gone. She’s a calming influence on my friends, even if only for the fact that it’s difficult for Isis and Komal to infuriate me when they have their mouths filled with cheese scones.
“I smell butterscotch!” Maisie huffs as she runs up the steps behind us, her duck, James Pond, trotting alongside her, dressed in a Sherlock Holmes hat and matching capelet, and tugging imperiously on his lead. “Celeste is here!”
“Why is the duck at book club?” I ask.
“Yeah, I thought Heathcliff has a rule about no other feathered animals in the shop,” adds Winnie.
“He’ll have to deal this week. James Pond can’t be left alone. He’s stressed.” Maisie hugs him to her chest. “He’s worried that if we don’t save the paper, I’ll no longer be able to keep him in the manner to which he’s become accustomed.”
“You mean, he’ll have to give up the duck Versailles you’ve built for him in your back garden and all those duck costumes he wears on his duck Instagram page and the fancy duck food you order in from Germany and he’ll have to live in a communal pond with other pleb ducks?” I smirk. “However will he cope?”
“Quack,” James Pond says mournfully, hanging his head.
“Don’t remind him of the stakes.” Maisie kisses his head. “But I’m sure, with you at the helm of the Zen and Tonic Variety Show, everything will be fine.”
My stomach clenches. I should never have agreed to direct the show. I only did it because it seemed like a good opportunity to torture Gideon, but Maisie is putting a lot of hope into raising enough money to keep her job. Now, if the variety show is an abysmal failure, it’ll be my fault and I won’t be able to fix things with an anonymous donation if the council doesn’t think the community is behind the paper being saved.
This is why I don’t like doing things for other people.
“Let’s go inside.” I clench my jaw and turn the handle.
Laughter booms from the events room. We pass through the shop, Maisie holding James Pond’s beak shut so he doesn’t alert Heathcliff to his presence. When we step into the events room, Celeste bounces over and thrusts a tray into our faces.
“I made butterscotch tarts and cheese scones,” she announces. The cupcake charms on her silver hoop earrings dance jauntily as she bobs her head. “You have to try them while they’re still warm.”
“Yes, carbs. Just the thing to distract me from my miserable existence.” Maisie takes two scones. “How’s your mum, Celeste?”
“She’s going a little feral being stuck at home, but that’s why she needs me so much.” Celeste sets down a platter of mini quiches next to the scones. “I’ll be back to help her again in a few weeks, but in the meantime, fill me in on everything I missed. How was the grand opening of Beth’s pole studio?”
“Great!” Isis blurts out. “It turns out that Arabella used to be a dancer.”
“Sheinventedpole dancing at a Paris cabaret,” Winnie explains. “Toulouse-Lautrec painted her portrait and everything.”
He isn’t the only one.I think of the painting that now has pride of place in my living room.
Celeste turns to me, her eyes wide, a silent question passing between us. “I’m not surprised. We all know Arabella is someone special.”
“She is! She wowed the whole village and convinced a bunch of people to sign up to the studio. A group of her friends from Sanctus are now showing up for my vamp-friendly pole class and cashing in their ten per cent off vampire facials.” Beth grins at me from her usual beanbag. “Although they keep asking if you’re going to teach a class.”
“I’d rather pull out my fangs with rusty tweezers.”
“You’d be amazing.”
“I’m already swamped with work and moving and plotting to disembowel Gideon, and now directing this bloody variety showsomeonesigned me up for.” I glare at Maisie. “No way do I have time to help a bunch of giggling vampires locate their divine feminine.”
“Speaking of, who here is going to do an act? Arabella can’t be our Simon Cowell without a few innocent souls to crush.” Maisie beams at everyone.
Mina shakes her head. “Quoth and I have already agreed to help with costumes.”
“I’m the MC,” Komal says. “And I’m doing the promotion.”
“Sorry, Arabella. I’m flat out behind the scenes at the studio,” Beth says. “But I am helping with choreography for some of my students who want to perform.”
“I’d love to, but I opened what I thought was a cupboard the other day and discovered a whole other wing of Black Crag that needs organising,” Winnie moans. “Alaric has anentire roomfilled with Ancient Egyptian artefacts. I know everyone goes through an Ancient Egypt phase, but they usually grow out of it by age twelve and don’t spend a small fortune collecting dusty old grave goods and then move on to their taxidermy era andforget about them. Whoforgetsabout a room filled with mummies?”
“If Alaric needs help turning those mummies into cash, I know a guy,” I say.
