instant, I will drag you out by your fingernails and serve you to the buzzards.”
“Really?” Brooklyn inched the shower curtain aside and peeked around it, shampoo bubbling down her long black hair. “I got five bucks says you can’t take me on your best day.”
“I was talking to Mal,” I said, staring him down in the mirror.
Mal was our little nickname for the monstrosity within me. Malak-Tuke was just so formal. I often wondered how Satan was getting along without his go-to guy, him setting up shop in my innards and all.
“Is Mal talking back to you?” Brooklyn asked me.
“Not that I know of.”
“Well, if he ever does, let me know,” she said, seconds before she sucked in a sharp breath, then followed it up with a whole lot of coughing and sputtering. Either she’d accidentally swallowed shampoo or she was coming down with something. Probably something serious like scarlet fever. Or Ebola.
I almost worried when she started making vomit sounds.
“Your shampoo tastes horrible.”
“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “It smells so fruity.”
I turned back to the mirror and saw Cameron standing at my window. He’d gone out early to do reconnaissance. I had no idea what that meant exactly, but it sounded important. I tightened my robe and strode to open the window. A bitingly harsh wind whipped inside as Cameron bent to talk to me through the opening.
“Pervy much?” I asked him before he could say anything.
“Why?” He looked past me into the bathroom. “Is Brooke in there?”
I maneuvered around to try to block his view, but since he was well over a foot taller, I doubted I was doing any good. “Did you find anything?” I asked, referring to our missing team member.
He shook his head. And he seemed worried, which was not like him.
I tried not to let that news push me further into a state of despair. Jared was a big boy. He was a millennia-old big boy. And me worrying about him was like a gnat worrying about the well-being of a guided missile.
“Hey,” Brooke yelled to me, “did you take my favorite towel?”
I bit down and tossed Cameron a conspiratorial gaze. “No,” I said, slowly pulling the towel off my head and stuffing it behind her bed. “I have no idea where it is.”
Cameron grinned. “Maybe I should take her one.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He shrugged, then frowned at me when he realized I was shivering. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he said, but I grabbed his jacket sleeve to stop him.
“Cameron, can you feel him? You know, like before? Is he in pain? Is he lost?” Then I voiced the bane of my worries. “Is he gone?”
He shook his head again, sympathy lining his ice blue eyes. “I just don’t know.”
“That means you can’t sense him, right?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.” He started to close the window, and just before it shut all the way, he said, “Dress warm.”
“Are you sure you haven’t seen my favorite towel?” Brooke asked, standing in another towel that was not her favorite.
I wrapped my arms around my waist and headed back to the bathroom. “I bet Glitch used it. He’s so inconsiderate that way.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She wasn’t buying it.
* * *
When we were finally fit to face the world, I braced myself for the confrontation to come. Breakfast with the grandparents. I took a deep breath and headed down.
“Hey,” I said to my grandmother as I stepped off the stairs. We always played nice in front of company, and since Brooke was right behind me …
Grandma offered a hesitant smile, then looked back at her new phone, a quizzical expression drawing her brows together. “Hey, pix. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really.”
“Hey, Grandma,” Brooke said, stepping off the stairs with a special kind of bounce.
“Good morning, hon,” Grandma said.
Brooke grabbed an apple, bit into it, then continued to talk despite her mouth being completely full. “Neither of us slept well. I doubt we’ll make it through the day without lapsing into a coma.”
Grandma didn’t even spare her a glance that time. “I’m almost certain you’ll make it. If for some reason you lose consciousness, text me. I need the practice.”
Brooke giggled as she scooped peanut butter onto an apple slice, then cast me a sympathetic gaze. “How did you ever survive childhood with such neglect? Such indifference?”
She was doing her darnedest to get Grandma and me to converse. It was not going to work.
The back door opened, allowing the crisp breeze to sweep into the room and up the back of my