Page 122 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

I glanced at Haven with a see-what-I-mean expression. Worst, most uncomfortable spot in the entire vehicle.

But she only grinned back at me and shrugged ruefully as if she enjoyed being crowded out of her space.

“Isn’t it, though? Dad got it for me for acing my history test,” Charlie was explaining. “Check it out.” Forgetting her mission to look for spook houses, she flipped it over to show off the back. “The sparkles change from gold to silver under a different light.”

“Nice.” Izzy snagged it from her to turn the phone this way and that. “Way to go, Dad. His taste is improving with old age. Remember when he got us those pocket protectors when we had our first dance recital in grade school?”

As the two of them cracked up laughing, Darcy growled impatiently. “Children,” she sang, clapping her hands. “Focus!”

“Oh, right.” Charlie took the phone back and started tapping her fingers across the screen. “Spook houses.”

A second later, her eyebrows shot up high. “Oh, wow. I just learned the urban dictionary definition for spook house.”

“Really?” Izzy crowded right back into Haven’s space, trying to see the screen for herself. “What is it?”

“Don’t—” I started, lifting my hand to intercede, but Charlie was already quoting the text.

“—The act of kneeling in front of a standing woman and eating pussy while simultaneously rubbing her tits. If done correctly, it makes a ghoulish scene.”

“Wow,” Darcy said, blinking big before she turned in my direction with narrowed eyes. “And you actually knew what that meant?”

I sent her a get-real scowl. “I’m stuck in a locker room with fifty horny guys five days a week. What do you think?”

She nodded. “Good point.”

“Hey, let’s go to the Mansion,” Charlie announced from the back. “That sounds like a good spook house.”

And so our night began.

32

Haven

As Charlie read off the directions to the spook house we were going to, Darcy plugged her phone into the console and typed in the address, making a map pop up on Wick’s navigation screen.

All the while, Izzy leaned in toward me and commentated.

“Watch this,” she murmured discreetly. “Next, Darcy will bring up a whole playlist of songs she picked out just for this trip.”

A second later, Darcy announced, “And… Now for the playlist,” as she tapped buttons on the screen of her phone. “Exactly two hours of eclectic awesomeness.”

Izzy and I exchanged secret grins before the song “Shotgun” began to play. On the other side of me, Charlie nodded her head to the beat, tapped her fingers against her knee, and sang along with George Ezra.

While Wick concentrated on getting out of the town and onto a stretch of nothing but highway, Darcy twisted in her seat to talk to me. “So, you dated Topher Nicholl, huh? What was that like?”

“Darce,” Wick warned, shooting her a hard glance.

“What?” his sister asked. “I’m just curious.”

“Wait.” Charlie looked at me, her mouth falling open in absolute shock. “You dated Pumpernickel? Wick’s mortal enemy? Why did I not know this already?”

I wrinkled my nose, confused. “Pumpernickel?”

“You know…” Charlie waved a distracted hand. “Topher Nicholl. Pumpernickel.”

Izzy rolled her eyes and explained, “She’s always called him that, because she thinks his name sounds like pumpernickel bread.”

“Ah.” After a nod, I thought it through and snorted. “Huh, it really does, doesn’t it?”

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