Page 39 of Demon Found

I push the door open slowly.

In the middle of the floor sits an extravagant package. The wrapping paper looks gut-churningly familiar. I hesitate before stepping over the threshold. One glance at Naeve clutching her bag to her chest confirms this isn’t the surprise from the hada she was talking about.

Not again.

They got inside my dorm room this time. Shit.

Cautiously I pick at the ribbon, allowing the layers of beautiful wrap to fall away. Inside nestles an intricately carved wooden box. Too small for a rat. Lifting the box, I weigh it in my hands. It’s light. Almost jewelry-box light.

“Secret admirer or more vermin?” Naeve’s voice makes me start. She leans over the discarded paper, plucking out a badly scribbled note. The letters are squashed together, disjointed, and angry-looking, like someone’s been pressing too hard on the parchment. “If you don’t join us, more bits will join you,” she reads out. “I don’t like this, Lorelei.”

Yeah. You’re not the only one.I dump the package on my desk and slick my hands down my skirt. Suddenly a package with a dead rat seems preferable to this unknownthingin a box. Grabbing up one of Naeve’s giant knitting needles, I poke at the catch.I’m not standing close to that when it opens.Finally, the clasp makes a dull ping and the lid rises slowly of its own accord.

My heart thunders. I can’t see inside . . .

Naeve squeezes my hand and together we shuffle half a step forward, necks craning. In the same instant that Naeve squeals, I see it.

A severed finger.

Frank’s bloodied pinkie finger. I’d recognize that stupid ring anywhere. Relief floods through me. Thank fuck. They can send me bits of Frank every day of the week.

Laughing, I toss the disgusting digit in the trash while Naeve manically cleans her damn knitting needle.

“Nothing to worry about. Weren’t we going out?”

Naeve gapes at me before turning the pointy end on me, jabbing me in the chest repeatedly. “Not until you explain. Vermin in the mail, chopped off fingers . . . I knew Venez was lawless. I didn’t know it was crazy.”

“It’s both.” I shrug, edging away as she flails wildly. “Look, some people from Venez feel I owe them. This is them trying to persuade me. They don’t know me very well if they think sending bits of Frank is a threat.”

“That’s notnormal. Your reaction, Lorelei Smith, is not normal. What did they mean ‘join them’? Are you in trouble? Do I need to involve someone, the dean?”

I back up farther. “No. No. Not him! Look, I already spoke with my guidance teacher.”Sort of.“I thought I sorted it, it might just be another week for the paperwork to come through. But if these guys are escalating, I’ll ask him for help again. Happy? Can we go out now?”

It’s not a lie. Not really. I will speak to him. Las Ratas gotinsideour room, dammit.

Naeve sniffs, stepping warily around the trash can. “Not happy, but okay . . . And thatthingis not staying in here. I’ll ask the hada to dispose of it. It spoiled the moment though.” She gestures dramatically to my side of the room. “Look.”

On my bed is a shimmering bundle of almost sheer cloth. Picking it up, the fabric feels like silk, but softer. It’s just on the right side of translucent. I’ve never worn a dress like this. I’m a T-shirt-and-jeans kind of girl. Or more like whatever-I-can-steal kind of girl. But this? It’s stunning. The ruby color has some kind of sparkle to it that catches the light. Holding it up against myself, I peer in the mirror.

“Nope. Go try it on.” Naeve bustles me into the bathroom.

Going out tonight is probably what I need. Distraction, fun. I can deal with all the shit later. Las Ratas aren’t going anywhere. Neither is Zephyr’s addiction. Quickly stripping out of my uniform, I slip the dress on. It’s smooth and cool against my skin. It looks like a dress a pixie would wear, all shimmer and shine, and yet . . . I twist around, inspecting myself in the mirror. My boobs are covered, but it drops away in a deep V at the back, exposing a swath of skin. The lacy bottom edge skims my thigh. I’d never have picked it for myself, but hell, I look good.

“Let me see.” Naeve unceremoniously rips the door open, brandishing three pairs of heels.

“Heard of privacy?”

“Nope. But goodness gracious goddesses, Lorelei, that dress is stunning.”

“I swear I need to set some boundaries,” I mutter. “And if those shoes are for me, the answer is no. Do you have flats?”

Naeve wags a single finger in my face, and I can just tell this is not an argument I’m going to win.

We’re doing things Naeve’s way tonight. She kind of deserves it after that fucking package scaring her half to death. At least she’s dropped her questions for now.

She pulls out a bottle of Fiery Fury and takes a long swig before tucking it into her handbag. I like this side of Naeve. Maybe she needs a fright with a severed finger everyday.

“Where is this Mabon party?”

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