Dead Girl in Love (15 page)

My plan would have worked great—except for one detail.

Grammy had plans, too.

As I was putting my list in Monkey Bag, I heard a honk from outside and peered out the window to see Grammy-As-Me at the wheel of my mother’s Toyota. I looked again, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. But that was Mom’s Toyota and Grammy was at the wheel.

Then I ran outside.

My grandmother wasn’t alone.

The passenger window rolled down and my heart nearly broke when my little sister Olive grinned at me and exclaimed, “Ally!” From the back seat came more excited squeals from my other two sisters.

“What’s going on?” I asked my grandmother, feeling kind of dizzy looking at my physical body from the outside. Would I ever get used to this whole body-switching business? Probably not.

“We’re off to an afternoon at the zoo.”

“Right now?”

“Zoo, zoo, zoo!” shouted the triplet choir.

“Hop in, honey,” Grammy said, grinning. “We want you to come with us.”

“To the zoo? But I can’t … ”

“Why not? It’s going to be a beautiful day—I checked the weather report to make sure. I’ve already folded laundry and alphabetized everything in the triplets’ room. Your mother acts like raising triplets is harder than running a large country. She’s too soft with them, not setting up strict rules. I’ll show her that it’s easy to raise triplets if you’re organized. A simple trip to the zoo should be a piece of cake.”

I wasn’t so sure. I’d babysat a lot and just getting three toddlers to the playground without losing shoes or jackets or my mind was a challenge. But my grandmother was a competent otherworldly business-woman and capable of anything.

“What are you standing there for?” Grammy tapped her polished fingernails (apparently she didn’t have a nervous biting-nails habit like me) on the steering wheel.

I shook my head. “I can’t go.”

“Sure, you can. Climb in the back—it’ll be a tight squeeze but there’s room between Melonee and Cherry. So let’s go.”

“But I need to pick up Junkmobile from where I left it downtown and then I have to go to Pioneer cemetery. It’s an obligation.” I gave her a knowing look as I leaned partly through the window. My long braid swung into the car and Olive grabbed it with the enthusiasm of a fisherman hooking a giant fish. Giggling, she petted my hair like a cat.

Grammy crinkled her brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I have to tell you alone, not in front of … ” I gestured to my sisters, and cried out when my braid jerked painfully.

“Olive,” Grammy said calmly, “let go of Am … Alyce’s braid.”

My little sister glanced over at Grammy, shook her head, then tickled her cheek with the end of the braid. It didn’t hurt, so I just shrugged. Olive was a big animal lover and liked to pet anything that looked like fur. This could be embarrassing when someone with a beard came to visit.

“Grammy, can’t you postpone the zoo or get someone else to take them?” I asked. “I need you to come with me.”

“Your obsession with cemeteries is beginning to worry me.”

“It’s not
my
obsession. It’s Alyce’s search for her … well, that’s one of the things I want to tell you.” I took a deep breath. “I have to find someone who’s lost. And there’s another thing I need to discuss with you.”

“What?” She sounded impatient.

“Um … it’s about a friend. It’ll take some time to explain.”

“Then it’ll have to wait till later. Do what you have to do while I take my little darlings to the zoo. Afterwards, we’ll get together and you can tell me everything.”

I nodded, though privately I knew I wouldn’t dare tell her
everything-—
just enough to convince her to meet with Gabe.

“We’re off to see lions and tigers and giraffes,” Grammy said with a cheerful wave as she started my mother’s Toyota.

Olive gave my braid one last tug, then reluctantly let go. “Bye, Ally!” she told me.

“Bye, Ally,” Cherry echoed from the back seat.

“Bye, Sissy,” Melonee added.

“Melonee!” Startled, I jerked back, banging my head on the door frame. “What did you call me?”

“Sissy bye-bye.” She waved at me from her car seat.

I was dumbfounded, and I could tell Grammy was surprised, too. The triplets never did call me “Amber,” finding it easier to say “Sissy.”

“Melonee,” I said gently. “Can’t you see that I’m Alyce?”

“Sissy looks funny.” Melonee giggled in her shy way, blushing and looking down at her feet, which always made it easy for me to tell her apart from her sisters. Melonee was the quiet, gentle triplet who seldom cried and loved books more than toys.

I glanced over at Grammy. “She knows!”

“Hmmm.” Grammy glanced into the rearview mirror. “Interesting.”

“Is that all you can say? She knows who I really am!”

“Children can be so perceptive.”

“Aren’t you worried? What if she tells someone?”

Grammy shrugged. “She’s not even two years old. I think our secret is safe.”

“You’re right … still, it’s freaky. How can she recognize me when I don’t look or sound the same?”

“You can tell the girls apart even though they look and sound the same. I think it’s much of the same with Melonee recognizing you. Still, we should be cautious. I’ll drop you off at your car, but after that avoid being around the girls until after you switch back. So don’t come to the house.”

“But I still need to talk with you.”

“Later,” she promised.

Then she waited while I ran into the house to get my stuff. The drone of the TV covered my hurried steps as I whipped into my room and grabbed Monkey Bag, making sure I had a camera (I bypassed the large one with attachments and choose an easy-to-operate digital camera), a notebook, phone, wallet, and the directions Dustin had printed for me. Pioneer Cemetery was the last name on the list, so there was a good chance I’d find Sam’s grave there.

I shut the bedroom door behind me and hooked the backpack over my shoulder. As I neared the living room, I saw Mrs. Perfetti dozing off while a gray-haired lady judge criticized a skinny, twenty-something guy for not cleaning up after his Great Dane in a park. I tiptoed past Mrs. Perfetti, who was sprawled across the couch, her mouth slightly open and her head resting against a pillow. She didn’t look scary … only sad.

Her sadness lingered with me as I stepped out of the house.

With the triplets gibbering noisily, it was impossible to talk about anything important on the drive to Junkmobile. I enjoyed being with them, though, and wished I really was “Sissy.” It was hard being away from them. But soon I’d switch back, I told myself. I’d solve Alyce’s crisis and we’d both resume our real lives.

Junkmobile was where I’d left it. I unlocked the door and was slipping into the driver’s seat when I heard a musical ring. Fumbling in the backpack, I pulled out the cell phone and read Dustin’s name.

“Where are you?” he boomed before I could even say hi.

“Getting into Junkmobile.”

“Coming to visit me?”

“You wish,” I teased. “I’d rather hang out with the dead.”

“We all have our fetishes.” He chuckled, then added, “Seriously, I got your text and was making plans to get you a ride, but sounds like you’ve got that covered. You still have the directions I gave you for Pioneer Cemetery?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t get lost.”

“No worries here. This will work out great—it’s both spontaneous and romantic. When you get to the cemetery, look for a black Civic. I wasn’t sure about him at first, but he’s even more antisocial than Alyce. He hates going to movies or clubs, and was cool about meeting at a cemetery.”

“Oh. My. God. You don’t mean … ”

“He noticed Alyce around school, and liked what he saw.”

“Who?” I asked, a sick knot tightening in my chest.

“Your second date, of course,” Dustin said proudly. “Kyle.”

Kyle.

The guy who might have mob connections, a criminal record, and a habit of using girlfriends as punching bags.

WHAT WAS DUSTIN THINKING?

Outraged, ready to tell Dustin exactly what he could do with this insane idea, I heard a dial tone. He’d hung up on me!

Dustin was
soooo
dead.

I tossed the phone across the seat. Dustin knew when to make his exit, that was for sure, but he didn’t know anything about matchmaking. If going out with Zachary—a nice, preppy, respectable guy—had been a disaster, a date with a badass like Kyle was sure to be apocalyptic. Well, forget it. I was so not going.

But then I thought, why change my plans because of some guy? Leaning against the car’s leather seat, I sorted through my conflicting thoughts. If I delayed going to the cemetery, I might switch back into my own body and lose this opportunity. I’d seen Kyle around school and despite his reputation, he didn’t look dangerous. It should be safe enough to meet him in a public place in the middle of the day. Besides, what if Dustin was right and Kyle was a good match for Alyce?

Shifting the car into drive, I headed for the cemetery.

The roads became more rural, two lanes without much traffic, curving with the rolling rise and fall of spring-green hills. When I spotted the historical marker for Pioneer Cemetery I pulled off the road, parking in front of a staircase set into a steep hillside. I spotted the Civic right away.

The car was dark; no sign of Kyle. I glanced uneasily at the wrought iron cemetery gate, where only a few ghostly shapes of tombstones were visible from the street. Although the sun peaked out between smoky clouds and warmed my skin through the car window, I shivered.

There were no paved walkways at this cemetery, only a rough collage of dirt, rocks, and wild grasses. I climbed the steep steps, inhaling a sweet fragrance of spring foliage that seemed an ironic perfume for a place of death. I unlatched the gate and it swung open, creaking like old bones. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I’d grabbed a jacket. The gate clanged shut behind me and I stepped forward … then gasped.

A black-cloaked figure rose from a tall stone monument like the dead awakening.

My shock shifted to recognition. Not a walking corpse—only Kyle.

He wore a black coat that was so long the hem swept up dirt. He was shorter than I remembered, and draped in silver chains and spiky jewelry. He’d overdone his makeup, so that his face almost glowed white and I could barely see his dark eyes hidden under kohl eye shadow. His chin pointed sharply in a slim, V-shaped beard, and his black hair was slicked back. Was he going for a Goth or a vampire look?

“Kyle?” I stood still, reluctant to get close to him.

“Alyce,” he said, nodding.

“So … um … it’s cool of you to come to such a strange place to meet someone you don’t even know.”

“I’ve seen you around school,” he said, with a lift of his dark brows that hinted at a deep meaning. “And your friend told me more about you—enough to pique my interest.”

“You can’t believe everything Dustin says,” I put in quickly.

“I decide for myself. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You mean coming to an old cemetery?”

“No—I go to cemeteries a lot. What I meant was I’ve never met anyone … a girl … like this.”

“Oh … well, I never do things the usual way.”

“That’s cool.” Kyle tilted his head as if studying me, and I noticed wicked tattoos spiraling down the side of his neck and into his coat. “So you come here often?”

I shook my head firmly. “Never before.”

“Really?” he asked with a smile that showed two sharp, pointed top teeth. Had he filed them down? “I heard you’ve got a thing for graveyards.”

“You heard wrong.”

“Why were you at Red Top Cemetery last week?”

I started to deny the accusation until I realized he was probably right—Alyce had visited Red Top recently. But this just reminded me how little I knew about my best friend. She had this whole other life … without me. I pursed my lips and told him it was none of his business.

“Fair enough, but you can be up front with me. I’ve suspected what you’re into for a long time—that’s why, even though coming here was short notice, I’ve prepared this.” He lifted a bulky paper bag from a slab of crumbling stone.

“A picnic lunch.”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He gave his head a small shake. “Let’s just walk around and check out our companions.”

“Companions?” I looked around but we were the only ones standing in the gently sloped cemetery.

“The silent ones.” Kyle gestured to the graves that were half-hidden under shadowy oak trees.

I stared down at the crumbly gravestones and monuments, most faded, cracked, and completely unreadable. Many were over a hundred years old. I scanned names and dates, searching for a small, more recent grave. But as I walked, dried weeds crackling, I was swamped with a sense of foreboding. I wondered about all the souls beneath my feet that had once breathed and danced and loved; now they were only scrawled words in stones—which was the way things usually happened.

Except for Dark Lifers.

And I thought of Gabe, imagining his name etched in stone in a distant graveyard while he defied the circle of life and death, living in stolen bodies for over a century. Although the sun couldn’t shine through the web of branches overhead, my cheeks warmed at the memory of rising out of our temporary bodies together and sharing energy, power, a connection … But thinking about Gabe felt disloyal to Eli. I loved Eli and no other guy could change that—especially a dead one with a passion for breaking rules and hearts.

So I shook Gabe out of my thoughts and focused on the graves.

The one I was looking for would be small and over a decade old. Odd that Alyce’s mother might choose such a remote location to bury her baby. She’d been out of her mind, though, and not acting logically. I wasn’t even sure if she’d marked the grave, and if she hadn’t, then Baby Sam would be lost forever.

I must have sighed because I glanced up and saw Kyle at my side, studying my face. “Something wrong?”

“Not really … it’s just that all these graves are too old.”

“Looking for a fresh grave?” he asked with a sly smile that flashed his vampire teeth. “I can help you find anything or anyone.”

I gave him a startled look. Did he know about Alyce’s lost sister? But he couldn’t. Or could he somehow have figured it out?

Twisting the end of my braid, I acted nonchalant. “What could I possibly be looking for at a graveyard?”

“Depends on how deep you dig.”

He was joking … I hoped.

Still, I knew with a sudden certainty that no way, not in any universe, would Alyce go for this freaky dude. I didn’t know what he was involved in and had no interest in finding out—only in getting out of here quickly.

Lifting my arm, I glanced down at my watch. “Wow, look at the time. I just remembered I have to … um … have to take my mother to an appointment. Yeah, a doctor’s appointment, and you know how doctors hate to wait. So I better go.”

I started to turn, but he shifted and blocked me. His dark eyes narrowed and even under his pale makeup I could see a dark flush of anger. “You’re not doing this again.”

“What?”

“Like you blew me off that time at lunch, when you were sitting alone on top of the garbage bin by the cafeteria and I tried to talk to you. At least you were honest and said it was because you preferred your own company to mine.”

I spread my arms out, helplessly. “Really I should go
… I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t sorry then and you aren’t now. That’s part of what drew me to you, made me come here. But I won’t let you rush off without some answers.” There was a stubborn set to his thin, red-painted lips. “What is with the trips to cemeteries? What are you really looking for?”

“Interesting graves.”

“It’s more than that—for both of us.” He bent down to trace his fingers across a square tombstone, his gold necklace with its dark vial swinging close to the ground.

I glanced down at a grave that lovingly remembered a mother, wife, and sister who died over seventy years ago. “I like to take photos of interesting tombstones.”

“Yet you don’t have a camera.”

Oops. Alyce always carried her camera.

“I left it in the car but I can get it—”

“Stop already. I know what this is about and so do you.”

“It’s not about anything.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his oversized black coat as he gave me a sly grin. “It was easy to figure out, what with your sneaking off to cemeteries and what I’ve heard around school. Who else but mysterious Alyce would want to meet here? Most girls at school only care about their clothes and popularity and dating jocks. But not you. So drop the innocent act and tell me the truth.”

“I haven’t lied to you,” I lied.

“I know what you want from me.”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Don’t pull away, Alyce.”

“I’m not,” I said, ready to bolt for the gate and break speed records driving home if he tried to pull anything.

“I’m interested in dark magic, too.” His eyes seemed to spark as if ignited. “I swear not to spill any of your secrets. Are you in a coven? I’m looking to join one, if yours has an opening. Inviting me to join can be mutually beneficial. I can dig up whatever you need for your rituals.”

“Coven? Rituals?” I put my arms out like I was trying to stop an oncoming vehicle from running me over. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious—like you. It’s cool you don’t waste time with social crap.”

“I’m not completely anti-social,” I said defensively. “I’m vice president of the Halsey Hospitality Club.”

“Only because your friend dragged you into it.”

“I didn’t—I mean—Amber didn’t drag me. I volunteered.”

“But you’re not the school club type. You like nighttime and graves and the secrets of the dead—just like me.” He pointed to a cluster of flat headstones tucked behind a small fence, the writing on the stones too faded to read more than a few family names like Shipp and Beans. “They checked out like a hundred years ago, so you didn’t come here to see them.”

“Maybe I’m into genealogy.”

“And maybe I’m the tooth fairy.” He chuckled, then bent over to reach into the bag I’d noticed earlier. “Although I could be.” There was ominous rattle as he held out a handful of dark yellow beads.

No, not beads. Human teeth.

“Guess where I got these,” he said proudly.

“I’d rather not.”

“I’ve been digging up interesting things for a long time and if my parents ever broke the lock on my closet door, they’d get the shock of their lives.” He pulled out curvy yellow strips from his bag. “Do any of your rituals call for fingernails and toenails?”

“Eww! Disgusting! You save your nail clippings?”

“Of course not—using my own for spells and rituals would be cheating. I get them from corpses. I brought these for you.” He held them out proudly, as if he was a normal guy on a date offering flowers. “It’s a myth that they grow after death. Living fingernails grow about a tenth of a millimeter a day and the middle and fourth finger grows fastest. Want to see what else I brought to show you?”

“No!” I jumped back from his outstretched hand.

Chuckling like I’d told a funny joke, Kyle reached into the bag again and pulled out something oblong and pale white. “Ever seen a wolf’s jaw bone?”

“Those are teeth?” I asked, horrified.

“Wouldn’t want them sinking into your skin, would you?” he joked.

Not funny.

“Is it real?” I asked skeptically.

“Of course. I don’t deal in fakes. I can prove it.” He pulled off the chain around his neck and uncorked the small vial. “Check this out—bat blood. It’s rumored to have mysterious powers.”

He put the vial to his lips and took a sip.

“Your turn.” Red liquid glistened on his mouth as held the vial out to me. “Go ahead. Drink.”