The Book of Bart Page 21

  “That’s how I roll,” I said with a wink. “If this person or whatever knows where it is, why aren’t we being chased right now?”

  Sam pointed above the parking deck. “Speak of the devil.”

  I had to squint, but I saw it. The Black Cloud of Death. I could see it only when it passed under the lights.

  She pulled me back into the shadows. “That thing only knows where the Shard was used. It can’t track us now.”

  The smoke-thing left after another minute. I squeezed my hand into a fist. I wanted to fight the mist machine, but I knew that wouldn’t be the wisest course of action. The taxi arrived shortly after and took us to Sweet Claudette. Josh sat on the trunk.

  “What are you doing?” I asked the little pissant before unlocking the car. “Don’t sit on Sweet Claudette. You have any idea what this baby cost?”

  I handed Sam one of the vials of angel goo for her shoulder.

  Josh slid off the trunk. “Nope. Don’t care, either. What took you guys so long?”

  Sam rubbed the healing ointment on her wounds while she regaled Josh with the story of how she destroyed Miss Evans.

  Josh looked like he wanted to kiss her. “You’re so badass.”

  “Aw.” Sam blushed. “That’s sweet.”

  Gag.

  “What about Tyler and the two Things?” I asked, changing the subject. “Anything happen with them?”

  “Come see for yourself.”

  We walked to the house, which looked like a tornado ripped the place in two. Even the fire department had arrived. Tyler, Clayton, and Darrel, still in their S&M getups, rolled around on the grass across the street in the fetal position, crying. Some firemen stood to the side, probably trying to figure out if they should even touch these kids.

  “Miss Evans,” Tyler said. “No.”

  “It happened a few minutes after you guys disappeared,” Josh said. “The firemen and ambulance arrived, then the three of them stumbled outside in those outfits. Next thing I know, they’re acting like babies calling out for their mom. I kind of feel sorry for them.”

  The sight of these three reduced to leaky faucets would’ve been hilarious if they weren’t so pathetic. Actually, no. I take that back. It was still a laugh riot.

  “Will they ever recover?” Josh asked.

  I laughed. “I hope not.”

  “They’ll sort of recover,” Sam said. “They’ll stop crying and everything, but they’ll never be the same. For the rest of their lives, there will be a massive void in their souls that nothing can fill.” She tapped me on the arm. “That’s why I did what I did with you. Once the bond is sealed, it never goes away. These three are going to just drift through life, their entire existence an open wound.”

  I clapped my hands together. “Serves them right.”

  Sam smacked me. “They didn’t know any better. She lured them in, just like you. They’re victims. Have some sympathy.”

  This girl needed to stop calling me out. It drove me nuts. I decided to not even respond.

  “Give me the ring back,” I said to Josh.

  He pulled it off his finger and handed it to me. I slid the ring back on. With Miss Evans out of the way, I just needed a plan to wreck Jenny’s chances at Homecoming Queen. I had an idea, but things would get nasty. Really nasty.

  There was nothing quite as destructive as a rumor that’d gone viral.

  nly one rumor had a chance of crippling Jenny McPherson’s chances at Homecoming Queen. Not that it bothered me, but if this rumor gained traction, it could have a devastating effect, much like the rumor about me did.. Of course, while it could be painful for her in the short term, she might also win a ton of support. Either way, I had to take that chance.

  I approached Monica at school the next day, feeling pretty confident about myself for coming up with this idea.

  “Word has it Miss Evans is a no-show today,” the cheerleader said as she texted away on her phone.

  “And that means what to me?”

  Monica didn’t take her eyes off her phone. “Just sayin’. She’s not around.”

  “Great. I want you to do me a favor,” I said.

  “You keep coming up to me in crowds like this, people are going to start talking. A rumor that you like me and not Jenny won’t do the trick. You need something better.”

  “I know, and I have it. Honestly, I can’t believe you hadn’t thought of it yourself.”

  “Maybe I have.” Monica’s eyes darted up to meet mine. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as good as you like to think you are. Or maybe I wanted to see how serious you were about learning Vixen’s identity.”

  “Or maybe you just want to play some silly game with me.”

  “That’s also possible.” Monica shook off what I’d said, returning to her cellphone.

  “Listen. I need you to tell your cattiest friends that Jenny slept with a teacher.”

  The cheerleader’s eyes looked so bright and wide I thought she’d won the lottery. “I wonder where you got that idea.”

  I grinned and stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Sometimes, they just come to me.”

  “Just be careful. It could backfire.”

  Kids could be cruel. Sometimes even worse than demons. With this rumor, Jenny would be torn to shreds.

  “I doubt the story will stick for long, but it should ensure she doesn’t become Homecoming Queen.”

  “You got it.”

  I clapped my hands together. “We’ll soon find out.”

  I started to leave, but Monica grabbed my shoulder.

  “You need a backup plan. I told you, Jenny is crafty. This whole thing could easily play out as a non-starter.” She moved in and gave me a hard, cold, closed-mouth kiss. The whole thing felt more like a fare-thee-well smooch than anything passionate. “Remember that.”

  Before lunchtime rolled around, most everyone at the school heard the rumor that Jenny had an on-going affair with one of the male teachers at Frady-McNeely. I’d hoped the kids gravitated towards Coach Mort, but most of the speculation centered on Mr. Dawson, a math teacher.

  I found Jenny sitting alone in the commons area, working on some Calculus.

  “The answer is George Washington,” I said.

  She looked up and halfway smiled. “Thanks, but I still have to show my work.”

  “Just draw a wig, an apple and some wooden teeth.”

  The smile broadened. “Excellent.”

  “What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?” I asked, sitting down next to her.

  “I’m not really in the mood to be around other people. Someone’s been spreading a rumor I’ve been sleeping with a teacher, and it caught me off guard. It’s awful that someone would try to be so hurtful, you know?” She turned the page of textbook. “It hurts. It really does.”

  Well, at least I could tell Monica that Jenny could be gotten to. “That’s terrible. Do you have any idea who would do such a thing?”

  “I have an idea. Most of the people who’ve told me about the rumor said a cheerleader told them, so my best guess is it came from there.” She tapped her pencil against her Calculus book. “I never did anything to them, but whatever. If they want to be cruel, that’s their prerogative.”

  “Yeah, that stinks.” I sat there for a moment in silence. Then I had an idea. Who said Monica could be the only one doing the torturing? She’d been holding Vixen’s identity over my head, and even forced me to slander Jenny. Sometimes I really loved being a demon. “Are you planning on getting them back? Because I could help you with that.”

  Jenny shook her head. “It’ll blow over soon, I’m sure. I mean, if you can survive being called a murderer, I can get through being called a slut.”

  “True,” I said. “I’m just glad the teachers and staff had enough sense to disregard it as a rumor and didn’t call the cops on me. I wouldn’t have survived being driven away in a police car.” Though it might have made me popular among the burnouts, but nobody liked them. After a while, t
he combination of drugs and self-loathing in their systems became toxic. And deadly. Most burnouts never lived to see thirty.

  Jenny closed her book and notebook. “I don’t know that anybody would be able to show their face around here again if that happened.”

  She stood up, and I followed her lead. “I’m off to class.”

  After she left, I walked around the halls, killing time until my lunch period ended. My cellphone vibrated. I’d gotten a text from an unknown number.

  I know you have the Shard of Gabriel. I want it. Or else.

  Ridiculous. I knew responding would be a bad idea so, naturally, I responded.

  Sure, just show up in your true form and I’ll be more than happy to hand it over.

  I wanted a cigarette, but I’d smoked my last one this morning on the way over. The phone vibrated again. I had another message from Unknown, whom I assumed was the Black Cloud of Death. Part of me wondered how a cloud could send text messages, but then I remembered it had the ability to possess people. Maybe even go a step further and become a person. For all I knew, it could be standing right next to me.

  Soon.

  Great. I loved ominous threats. As if Unknown expected me to spend my time in a perpetual state of fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I will admit it didn’t help that this happened while I was out of cigarettes, so when the day ended I felt a bit on edge.

  Josh stood with Sam by her car. I gave him a sideways glance. I half expected him to try to stab me with a shiv.

  “I see everybody’s all buddy-buddy again,” I said.

  “I need to talk to you,” Sam said, shifting her weight back and forth.

  “Did you get some texts from Unknown too?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “How did the thing even get our numbers?”

  “Same way you found Miss Evans probably. The school directory.”

  I glared at her.

  “What? We had to when Quincy enrolled us.”

  “You couldn’t provide false information?”

  Sam’s face dropped. “I guess so.”

  Great.

  “What do you make of it?” she asked.

  I wanted to say Vixen, or the cloud or whatever, just wanted to be a blowhard and puff out their chest. I wanted to say that, but I didn’t believe it. The texts did bother me. A little.

  “Have you had a chance to put the Shard somewhere safe? And by safe I mean not in the place I found it?”

  “Not yet.”

  Leave it to a pseudo-angel not to treat the situation as dire. They always had to look at the bright side of things.

  “Don’t you think that might have been a good idea?”

  “Don’t get mad at her,” Josh said.

  As if I wanted to get into another pissing contest with him at the moment.

  “Let it go, man. If you want to ask Sam out, then ask her out. We don’t have time for this chivalry act right now.”

  “I don’t want to ask her out,” Josh said. His voice didn’t sound defensive. At all. Not even a little bit.

  “Be nice,” Sam said.

  “What would be nice is if you’d treat this a little more seriously and stop being so happy and cheery.” It was unnecessary and counterproductive. Nobody needed to be happy all the time.

  Sam grabbed me and pulled me out of earshot of Josh.

  “You think I’m not doing that? I had to watch a succubus and three of her victims engage in some pretty depraved behavior last night. It still triggers my gag reflex.” She swallowed, probably trying to force back some bile. “Not to mention that Miss Evans tried to take a chunk out of my shoulder. I’m sorry if I’m trying to stay positive. But at the rate we’re going, we’ll be out of the healing ointment, and then where will we be? Up… poo creek.”

  “Language,” I said.

  She scowled at me. “You may be used to this kind of stuff happening to you, but I’m not. So I’d appreciate whatever compassion you can give me, okay?”

  She looked like she tried to fight back tears.

  A small part of me wanted to put my hand on her shoulder, but self-control won out.

  “Okay. But Vixen looks like she’s making her move.” I made sure to sound calm. “Can you think of somewhere safe we can hide the Shard until things cool down?”

  After a moment, she smiled. “I can think of one.”

  The weather forecast didn’t call for rain but, judging by the movement of the dark clouds in the distance, it headed our way. Provided they actually were storm clouds. I thought about making Sam take us to my place so we could use Sweet Claudette and get to a church faster, but honestly I had no clue when, or if, the Black Cloud of Death would strike, making time precious.

  We passed a church about a half-mile from Sam’s place. Sam brought the car to a stop in front of her complex. She hopped out, leaving the motor running. As soon as she disappeared into the complex, I crawled over into the driver’s seat.

  “What are you doing?” Josh asked.

  “We need to get to the church and hide the Shard as soon as possible. I don’t know about you, but I trust women drivers about as far as I can throw them.”

  “That saying doesn’t really work for you. You’re a demon, so I’d imagine you could throw one pretty far.”

  “Touché.”

  Sam appeared through the complex’s main entrance. She stopped when she saw me in her seat, but changed direction and got in on the passenger side. She gave me a sideways glance.

  “Bartholomew doesn’t trust women drivers,” Josh said. “But I do.”

  Sam kept staring at me. The box I’d originally found the Shard in sat in her lap.

  “I’m not surprised you want to drive. But if something bad happens while you’re behind the wheel, I want to be able to drive your new car next time we go somewhere. Deal?” She extended her hand.

  “What’s in it for me? What if something doesn’t happen? What do I get?”

  “You get to keep me out of your driver’s seat.”

  “Weak. No deal.”

  Sam huffed. “Do we really have time for this?”

  “I don’t know. Do we?”

  Sam made a sound in her throat that sounded a whole lot like a grr.

  “Did you just grr at me?” I asked.

  Sam made the noise again, nodding. “Forget the deal. Can we go?”

  I couldn’t accept any bet that hinged on my Sweet Claudette, so I felt relieved she’d taken my baby off the table.

  “Absolutely.”

  The clouds continued to darken as I drove us to St. Anthony’s. I glanced up to make sure there weren’t any weird formations, birds, or Clouds of Death coming after us. A few minutes later, I pulled to a stop in front of the church. Sam and Josh hopped out. I elected to stay in the car.

  Sam closed the door and I watched her walk into the church, her ass moving back and forth like a metronome, keeping the beat. She’d already slept with me once out of pity. Maybe I could convince her to do it again, this time out of lust. Or as a poor life choice. I needed a chance to redeem myself. No way I’d brought my A-game last time. Maybe our tumultuous affair would get her booted from the angels’ team. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that happened.

  I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. I flipped on the radio to a classic rock station. I was more partial to contemporary pop, mostly because we’d ruined it for everybody. People like Jimi Hendrix were graced by you-know-who, but we tried to make sure talents like him lasted only so long before drugs or alcohol got the better of them. Each year, Hell dug its claws deeper into the music industry, killing whatever “art” the medium possessed.

  Sam and Josh got back in the car. I put the gear into drive and sped off to my place.

  “Everything safe and sound?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Sam said. “I don’t think even you can get to it now without bursting into flames.”

  “Tasty.” I kind of wanted to test her theory, but not now.

  Ten minutes lat
er, I pulled the car over to the curb next to my building. Sam and I got out so she could take the driver’s seat. We almost bumped into each other in front of the car. I stepped to the side and motioned for her to go on. She moved past me, then stopped.

  “I heard a pretty vicious rumor about Jenny McPherson today,” she said.

  “Did you? What was it? I was kind of bogged down in school work today.” Tee hee.

  Sam narrowed her eyes. She must not have bought my lie, but then again, I didn’t really try to sell it.

  “Would you rather I took her virginity, then ruined her?” I asked. “Because, believe me, that way would’ve been a lot more fun for me.”

  “Yeah, I know it would’ve been. I just hate that we have to hurt that poor girl.”

  I pursed my lips. “Indeed. A true shame on the level of, say, the Holocaust or Biggie Smalls being cut down in his prime.”

  Sam walked over to the driver’s side door. “Go inside before you say something that’s going to irk me.”

  I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “Love to, but I’ve been out of cigarettes all day. Need a refill.”

  Sam’s face scrunched together as she glared at me. “That’s a disgusting habit.”

  “Says you.”

  I walked into the parking deck and took a moment to gaze at my beautiful Sweet Claudette. She epitomized the best of what the automobile industry had to offer. I slid into her cushy leather seat, started the engine, and revved that baby up. The tires screeched as I drove out of the deck.

  With the Shard dropped off at the church without incident, I relaxed. Things seemed to be getting easier. I decided to take the Benz on the Beltline so I could let my baby out to play a little. After passing a few exits, I pulled off on Lake Boone Trail to get some cigs.

  I bought five cartons, immediately opening one of them and stashing a pack in my jacket pocket. I patted my cartons of cancer sticks as I laid them down on the seat next to me. My wonderful treats.

  Sweet Claudette roared back onto the Beltline. The sun began to set, and the dark clouds surrounding the city made the sky look like a filtered version of night. I expected it to start pouring at any moment. Hopefully, Claudette and I would beat the rain and get back under the cover of the parking deck. I didn’t want her getting wet.