Pawn (Nightmares Trilogy #1) (34 page)

“She probably won’t even be home,” I
told him. “So, yeah I can probably get away.”

“If she isn’t home, maybe I could come
over?” Kannon smiled almost shyly and my heart melted.

“That would be great,” I
said.

“I’ll see you later then.” Without
giving me a chance to answer, Kannon wrapped his hands around my
waist and pulled me to him. He was leaning with his back against
the side of the Jeep, so when he pulled me forward I fell on top of
him, hands splayed across his chest. His mouth was on mine, gentle
at first until we both grew accustomed to the sensation.

“Get a room,” Devon hollered from the
Chevy.

I made a one-fingered shooing gesture
in response.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Devon had the keys in the ignition,
but had yet to turn on the Chevy’s engine when I opened the
passenger door. She was aimlessly tapping the steering wheel with
her index finger, a faraway look in her big blue eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, as I
fastened my seat belt.

Devon turned to face me. “Let’s go
talk to the old man.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Mr.
Haverty?”

Devon shrugged. “We’re here. Might as
well.”

The Moonlight was as busy as I’d ever
seen it. A bluegrass song played over the speakers, the artist’s
crooning with a pronounced twang accompanied by a depressing
melody. Mr. Haverty was standing in front of the griddle, frying
ham steak unless my nose deceived me. A middle-aged woman with
teased bangs and too much blue eye shadow greeted us at the front
door.

“Two?” she asked while smacking her
gum.

“We were hoping to have a word with
Mr. Haverty, if he has a minute?” I replied.

The woman’s cement gray eyes
scrutinized first me, then Devon. Curiosity mingled with suspicion
as she slowly nodded. “I’ll check his schedule.”

She turned on the heel of an
orthopedic sneaker and headed towards the back of the diner. Her
broad hips swung as she moved between the tables. Devon and I
exchanged a glance, both of us trying not to snicker.

The waitress conferred with Mr.
Haverty, who glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his
visitors. He smiled and waved one wrinkled hand in our direction.
Pointing to two empty stools at the counter, he gestured for us to
sit.

“Be with you in just a second,
Endora,” Mr. Haverty called once we were seated.

“Thank you, sir,” I
replied.

The waitress set plastic cups of water
on the placemats in front of Devon and me. “Menus,
ladies?”

“Just coffee for me, please,” I
replied.

“Same,” Devon echoed.

Between the restless sleep the night
before and the mentally taxing morning, I was exhausted, and the
pot of dark roast brewing behind the counter smelled amazing. By
the time the waitress returned with two steaming white mugs, Mr.
Haverty was finished with the order he was working on. He leaned
against the counter in front of us.

“Nice to see you again, Endora,” he
told me.

“You too, sir.” I gestured to Devon.
“This is my friend, Devon Holloway.”

“Hello, dear.” He glanced back and
forth between the two of us. “Why do I get the impression this
isn’t a social call?”

“Mr. Haverty, we were hoping to ask
you some questions about Endora’s father,” Devon
responded.

I was glad she was taking control of
the situation since I didn’t even know where to begin.

“Of course. What would you girls like
to know?”

Devon hesitated a moment, shooting me
a sideways glance before launching into a round of twenty
questions. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Been about two weeks now,” Mr.
Haverty said. “Mark told me he was going out of town for a couple
of days. Research trip, if I recall correctly.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Devon
pressed.

Mr. Haverty drummed gnarled fingers
against the countertop while he considered the question. After a
long pause, he shook his head regretfully. “Don’t reckon that he
did.”

“Did my father talk to you about his
work?” I interjected before Devon moved on to a third
question.

“A little,” Mr. Haverty said slowly.
For the first time in our brief acquaintance, the older man
appeared uncomfortable. He began twisting a gold signet ring that
encircled his middle finger.

“That folder you gave me had a list of
people and their contact information. Do you know anything about
them? Were they helping Dad with his research? Are they professors,
too?” The Moonlight’s owner became visibly agitated, straightening
packets of sugar and artificial sweeteners. His hands shook
slightly, causing the band of his ring to knock against the small
dish of creamers that sat next to the sugar container.

“Oh, I don’t know much about that.”
Mr. Haverty’s chuckle sounded forced.

“But you did know that Dad was
studying Greek mythology?” I pressed. Mr. Haverty had said as much
when I was in the diner with Kannon. “Do you have any idea if he
had a specific area of interest?”

Mr. Haverty studied me carefully while
he considered his next words. “He had a particular interest in some
of the more obscure myths.”

I bit my lip and tried to rein in the
sudden rush of excitement. Was it possible that we were finally
going to get some concrete answers?

“Like myths about the Egrgoroi?” I
asked hopefully.

He nodded slowly. “Among others.” I
held my breath, willing him to continue. Mr. Haverty didn’t
disappoint.

“He was interested in finding these
so-called Egrgoroi. He wanted to learn as much as possible about
them.”

“Did he find any?” Devon asked
excitedly.

“He did. But a lot of them refused to
speak with him. They’re a secretive lot, you see. He did find a
handful that agreed to be interviewed. He’s traveled all over the
world to meet with them.”

I digested this new bit of
information. The names in the folder, they were the Egrgoroi he’d
interviewed, I realized. But why? What was he hoping to
learn?

Devon spoke up next. “Is that where he
went this last time? To meet with one of them?”

Mr. Haverty didn’t answer right away.
He cleared his throat and resumed the nervous twisting of his ring.
“No. Mark got a lead on the location of a gate to the underworld.
He wanted to follow up on it.”

“But he didn’t tell you where that
was?” Devon pressed.

“No, dear, he didn’t.”

Gate to the underworld? Dad was trying
to find a way into the underworld? My stomach burned with the
unpleasant thought. Why would Dad want to go there?

“Do you know why my father was so
interested in the Egrgoroi?” My father clearly trusted this man to
have shared so much of his research with him. I wanted to know
whether he trusted him with my secret, too.

“I’m sorry, Endora, I don’t,” he said
sadly.

Mr. Haverty reached across the counter
and placed his hand over mine. His ring caught the light and I
noticed the insignia for the first time. A polished blue stone sat
in the center of the thick gold band. Carved into the center of the
stone was a single eye, similar to the one over the pyramid on the
back of a dollar bill.

“Your ring is very interesting, sir,”
I said, leaning down for a closer look. “Is it a class
ring?”

Mr. Haverty ran one finger over the
markings on the stone, smiling fondly. “No, it belonged to my
father and his father before him. It’s sort of a family heirloom.
Supposedly it’s been in the Haverty family for
generations.”

Devon shot me a curious,
slightly annoyed look out of the corner of her eye, clearly
wondering why I was wasting time asking about the diner owner’s
ring. I wasn’t actually sure why I was. Something about it
intrigued me, though.

“Mr. Haverty,” Devon began, “is there
anything else you can tell us? No one has heard from Eel’s father
in over a week. As you know, he was supposed to meet her here and
never showed. There are private investigators searching for him,
but so far they’ve found nothing. We just went to his house, and
his car and research are all still there.”

“I’m sorry, girls. I really am. But
I’ve told you all I know.” He patted my hand. “He’ll show up. He
always does.”

****

That night Kannon and I had
a blissfully normal date. He brought takeout from Amy’s Thai.
We
ate at the
kitchen table while discussing St. Paul’s chances of beating
Calvert Hall, their biggest rival, in two weeks. Following dinner,
we watched a cheesy horror movie. I was too embarrassed to admit
that I’d already seen it, in the theater on opening night. The
movie was accompanied by a fair amount of mouth-to-mouth, both on-
and off-screen. There was also some
over-the-clothes hand-roaming, but t
hat was all off the screen.

I wasn’t sure whether Kannon was
trying to take things slow – we might share a strange otherworld
connection, but we’d only known each other for two weeks, after all
– or if he was afraid too much skin-to-skin contact would send one
of us to the hospital. Either way, I was glad he held back.
Kissing, I could hold my own; I didn’t have as much experience as
he likely did, but I wasn’t a total newbie. Second base wasn’t new
for me either, although Kannon made the experience pleasurable and
not so much like I was being pawed. Anything beyond that and I
would need a third base coach. The confident way that Kannon took
charge told me he would be a good teacher.

“I think you have something to ask
me,” Kannon said during a break in our lengthy make-out session.
He’d pulled my dream catcher necklace free from its hiding place
under my tee shirt and played with the golden feathers, sending
light from the center prism dancing across the living room
ceiling.

“Ask you?” I said, surprised. There
were a lot of things I wanted to ask him, but our non-Egrgoroi-talk
date was not the time.

“Isn’t Westwood’s prom in like a
week?”

I laughed uncomfortably. Kannon had
done me a favor by bringing up the topic, but that didn’t assuage
my nerves. The sense of impending doom I’d come to associate with
prom lingered in the back of my mind.

“How do you know I don’t already have
a date?” I asked coyly.

Kannon’s eyebrows arched and his green
eyes went wide. “Do you?”

He looked so stunned that I wasn’t
sure whether to be offended or laugh. I chose the latter, but
couldn’t hide the slight edge in my voice when I said, “Well, no, I
don’t.”

His fingers were suddenly crawling
over my sides, tickling me mercilessly. I giggled and swatted at
his arms while squirming in the small space we were sharing on the
couch.

“Stop,” I panted. “Please,
stop.”

“Not until you ask me,” he teased. Now
his mouth was close to my ear, his breath tickling my cheek as he
spoke.

“Who says I want to go with you?” My
words came with a wheeze and I gulped air, trying to catch my
breath.

“I do.” He kissed my neck.
“I’ve seen it.” He kissed my collarbone. “We’re
supposed
to go together.”

He dipped his head lower
but I froze, suddenly immune to his teasing.
We’re supposed to go together?
He
was joking, surely he was joking. But the statement made my heart
skip a beat, and not in a good way.

Kannon stilled, too, sensing my
unease. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I shook my head. Fingering my
dream catcher, I dared to ask the question. “Did you…dream about us
going to prom together?”

When I glanced up, the easy grin
Kannon bestowed on me lessened the tension in my muscles. The
flicker of something I couldn’t identify passed over his
expression, but was gone so fast I thought maybe I’d imagined
it.

“Something like that,” he replied, his
gaze never wavering.

His answer, neither a confirmation nor
a denial, bothered me. A nagging voice in my head insisted that I
proceed with caution. That was silly, though. This was Kannon, the
boy who’d dreamed about us meeting. It wasn’t beyond the realm of
possibilities that he also envisioned us attending my prom
together.

I broke eye contact first. “What about
Jamieson? Hers is the same night as mine.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?”
His voice was gentle. He placed a finger under my chin and forced
me to turn my head to look at him again. “I already told her we
wouldn’t be going together.” His lips brushed mine. “So, what do
you say? You, me, limo, dinner, dancing?”

Smoke, fire, death,
Devon,
flashed through my mind.

“Endora?” Kannon smoothed stray
strands of auburn hair from my forehead. “If you aren’t ready to be
seen together in public…” his voice trailed off.