Page 15 of Vendetta
I watched my mother’s reaction for more clues.
‘Theatrics,’ she murmured, with a dismissive flick of the wrist. Still, she stayed where she was, monitoring our exchange.
‘Persephone,’ I grimaced on instinct. I hated when Jack full-named me. ‘I’m not going to get into it,’ he said. My uncle’s stern voice was so like my father’s, it sent a shudder down my spine. For a second I wanted to close my eyes and pretend he was there, that everything was back to the way it should be –that we hadn’t just discussed somebody drowning in their own tub, and that we weren’t about to slap a big fat warning sign over the hottest boys in the neighbourhood. ‘Just do as I ask.’
I couldn’t help but feel sceptical. Even with his bruised hand, there had been something so soothing about Nic’s presence.
‘When will you be back?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
Cagey as ever. I wished Millie the High Inquisitor were here. She could get answers from a mute. And she’d enjoy it too.
‘So that’s all you’re going to tell me?’
‘That’s all there is.’ Jack looked away from me, out the window and into the darkness behind our house. ‘Do you understand?’
I was about to answer that I didn’t really understandanythingabout it, but then the most peculiar thing happened. He sprang to his feet like something had bitten him. The chair tumbled backwards and he darted across the kitchen.
‘What on earth?’ My mother’s chair screeched against the floor.
Jack lunged at the kitchen sink and shot out his hand. I thought he was going to punch through the window, but instead he grabbed the jar of honey from the sill. When he looked at me again, his eyes were red and bulging.
‘Where did this come from?’
‘The h-honey?’ I stuttered. I had never seen someone so freaked out by something so benign. ‘I found it.’
He pinched the black ribbon between his fingers, rubbing it. ‘Where?’
I shrugged. ‘Someone left it at the diner. I found it when I was closing up.’
The colour drained from his face, turning his usually red-tinged cheeks to an eerie paper-white. ‘If you find one of these again, I want you to leave it where it is and call me immediately.’
‘Jack, it’s just honey,’ I pointed out.
Why was everyone acting so strangely lately? I had already tasted it and lived to tell the tale, so it’s not like it was poisoned.
‘Just do it,’ he said quietly. ‘OK?’
‘I thought you said you didn’t have a phone,’ I reminded him.
‘I’ll call you when I get a new one.’
‘Jack?’ In all the strangeness, I had forgotten my mother was still there. ‘I think you should go now. You’re acting erratically and it’s making me very uncomfortable. Sophie probably wants to go to bed.’
I opened my mouth to protest – I wasn’t tired – but then I stopped myself. My mother was right.
‘OK.’ Jack looked at the ground, shaking his head. ‘Sorry, Sophie. I’ve had a very long day.’
‘It’s fine.’ I offered him an encouraging smile. Between managing the diner and taking care of his investments in the city, Jack always worked himself into the ground, but lately he had been more unlike himself than ever; he was exhausted and jittery, and now that Luis had died, his behaviour was stranger than ever.
‘Good night, Sophie.’
‘Night,’ I returned.
Honey still in hand, Jack trudged towards the back door.
Half a second later, the motion censor in our backyard flickered to life, illuminating my uncle’s shadow as it faced away from us, staring at the broken patio squares and the overgrown grass.
