“Sounds like a plan,” I nodded in agreement. My dad said nothing as he observed, but the worry in his eyes spoke volumes.
“We’ll be safe, dad. Don’t worry.”
“I always worry, Mel. That’s my job as your father.”
We parted ways with Isadora going after Lance, the twins to Agatha’s while Lucien and I went to Saddleback to talk to Bryon.
We found him outside, but he looked worse for wear when we arrived. He didn’t seem too pleased by Lucien, but that didn’t last long as I appeared from behind him.
“What brings you over here so early?” Bryon asked with a warm smile.
“We think Hugo or Lance might be the killer. The stake that I took from Jeremy’s body is missing and so is my necklace. The only person that knew about it was Hugo. We need to search the shop, but kind of need your help.”
Bryon hesitated. “Speak, boy,” Lucien taunted. Lucien didn’t react as Bryon shifted nervously with his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“Um, this is going to make me look super suspicious, but I found your necklace last night actually. Now, the stake I didn’t,” Bryon informed us before producing my necklace from his pocket. I snatched it back and placed it back around my neck, sighing as I felt the magic grow quiet in my blood. “I was in wolf form when I found it. I thought it was you, but it was this. It was in the forest near where Agatha’s body was found. It looked like someone had tried to bury it, but didn’t get to finish.”
“That answers that question, but keep your nose out for the stake. I’m sure that sniffer of yours will find it,” Lucien teased.
“Grow up,” I hissed at him, seeing Bryon curl his fists. “Bryon has done nothing to you and even got me my necklace back. Why do you continue messing with him?”
“It’s the nature of our kind,” Bryon sighed with bitter disappointment. “Don’t worry, witches and werewolves have a better relationship than witches and vampires.”
“Kind of ironic to say that when she’s my mate. Perhaps times have changed for you foul bloods.”
“But time never changes for you bloodsuckers,” Bryon snarled as his eyes glowed with a green hue. Lucien flashed his fangs at him, but got no reaction. “Vampires always have to show their fangs for intimidation. One day a change will come for your kind, but I don’t see it in this century.”
“Okay, you two to your corners,” I snapped. My arm looped through Lucien’s as I began dragging him away and Bryon chuckled. “Don’t encourage it!”
“Goodbye, Mel. See you at the dance this weekend!”
Lucien allowed me to get him to the truck before turning on me in a flash. “What dance is he talking about?”
“It’s a Founder’s Day thing. Yes, you’re going. No, I’m not going with you as my date because my dad is always my partner. Yes, I will save you a dance. Now get in the truck.”
Chapter Seventeen
Melinda
“You’ve tried on the same three dresses,” Isa frowned as she watched me pull on my senior prom dress for the third time. My frustrated groan only increased with each failed attempt at making my dresses look presentable enough for a town dance. Despite my impatience, Isadora remained patient and tried to provide a solution to my problem. “Maybe you can try one of my dresses?”
“Isa, I say this with complete love for you, but no. Your dresses will put a red A on every piece of clothing I have for the rest of my time in this town,” I replied before collapsing on the bed. She flapped the paper she had been fanning herself with tofan me, the sweat on my brow cooling me more as the cool air washed over my face. “Ah, thanks.”
There was a soft knock on the other side of the door and my dad slowly opened it with a box in his hands. When he noticed we were decent, he opened the door wide enough to enter and held the box out to me. I looked at him confused, but pushed off the bed to take the box from him. Immediately as I removed the lid, I saw the blue fabric inside.
“It was your mother’s,” he answered before I could ask. “She brought it from Shadowhaven.”
Isadora peered over at the mention of her home. She gasped as she looked at the dress. Peering around at her, I saw her giddy expression.
“That dress is dwarven. Gods they make the best dresses,” she gushed.
“I thought dwarves were miners? At least, that’s how they are portrayed in films here.”
She shook her head in response. “Not all. The dwarves do mine, but they are masters of creation whether weapons or art or in this case, dresses. Many designers in Shadowhaven are of dwarven descent. My tailor is dwarvish and fae. He is amazing at ball gowns. I can’t pinpoint who made this one, but I can tell it’s dwarvish by the gold thread. They all use pure gold thread to make their dresses since they hold better than standard thread.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you were so versed in fashion.” she blushed at my compliment. “I know who my Shadowhaven shopping buddy will be.”
“It’s yours to wear tonight,” my dad smiled before placing a hand on my head. “This might be the last founder’s dance we attend. I want it to be memorable.”
