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Kindling the Moon

Page 19

   


“Hey, why did you draw those new symbols over the door?”
They were drawn in clear ink. Only Earthbounds would be able to spot the soft white glow from the Heka charge, and Amanda wasn’t Earthbound. Her father was Earthbound, her mother human. But all that made Amanda was nonsavage, aware of the existence of demons, but unable to see them. As far as I knew, all Earthbound-human couplings produced human children—no halos, no abilities, no preternatural eyesight—but they were embraced by the Earthbound community as family. Ugly ducklings, they were affectionately called.
“I saw you coming down off the stepladder after you scribbled something over the door,” Amanda explained. “I figured it must’ve been magick.”
Ah, okay. “They’re nothing. Just symbols for extra protection.”
“Why do we need extra protection?”
“You don’t. I do.”
She put the box cutter down and paused. “Why?”
“Not a big deal, I’m just being extra careful.”
“Do you have another crazy stalker boy?”
Ugh. “Don’t remind me,” I said. A few months ago some punk kid starting hanging outside the bar after we closed, trying to follow me to my car. Turned out he was bipolar and off his meds; if I never saw him again, it would be too soon. “Hey, speaking of boys—well, men—I met someone from your neck of the woods. Have you ever heard of Lon Butler? He’s a—”
“You met Lon Butler? Ohmygod, that’s so cool! Was he nice? I heard he was kind of a jerk. I’ve seen him at the farmers’ market a couple of times but I was too nervous to approach him.”
I feigned casual interest, but I was dying to find out what she knew. “He wasn’t warm and friendly. How do you know about him?”
“Everyone knows about him in La Sirena. He’s got a cool piece of property at the edge of town on one of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. He inherited it from his father and built a house up there, but the only way to really see it is from a boat.”
“Hmm.” Boring. “What else?”
“Let’s see, he travels around the world to exotic locations for photo shoots. Umm … Oh, yeah—you know his ex-wife, that model, Yvonne Giovanni?”
I shook my head. I had no idea who she was talking about. “Where have you been living, Arcadia? Under a rock? She used to be a supermodel.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Back when I was a teenager, she was always in the gossip columns because she partied with tons of celebrities. I heard that’s why they split up. His son goes to junior high with my cousin, Rosy. You remember her, right? I brought her by here a couple of months ago on my day off, that morning when you and Kar Yee were doing inventory?”
“Uh-huh, I remember.” I didn’t, but whatever.
“Well, she said the rumor going around school is that Yvonne is only allowed supervised visits with the son a couple of times a year.”
I grabbed the box cutter off the bar counter and broke down the empty boxes that were accumulating at my feet. “That’s a little weird. He mentioned that he had custody.”
“Yeah, and you don’t see a father getting that very often, do you? I think it’s fishy. Anyway, how did you meet him?”
Kar Yee walked up to the bar and took a seat. “Who did you meet?”
“Lon Butler.”
Kar Yee squinched up her face. “Who?”
“The famous photographer from La Sirena,” Amanda said in exasperation. I should have known she’d be a wealth of gossipy tidbits; if you listened to her weekly reports from the home front, you’d think that La Sirena was populated with nothing but soap opera characters with elaborate backstories.
“Aren’t there like a billion photographers in La Sirena?” Kar Yee stuck her hand inside the box of rice crackers that I’d just opened and scooped out a handful.
“That’s not sanitary,” I chastised. She shrugged and began munching.
Amanda made a frustrated noise, then proceeded to tell her about the model/ex-wife; Kar Yee hadn’t heard of her either. “He’s a local celebrity,” she finished.
Kar Yee gave me a sidelong glance as Amanda’s back was turned. “Whatever you say.” She swiveled her chair around to face me. “Did you call Lisa?”
“Yeah, she’s subbing for me tonight and tomorrow. I also called Heidi and asked if she’d help Amanda for a few hours tonight during peak hours since that concert will be letting out around midnight.”
“Well, I guess you’re off the hook, then.”
I glared at her. “I’m half owner, you know. I don’t need your permission.”
Kar Yee formed her hand into the shape of a yapping mouth repeatedly opening and closing.
I picked up the stack of flattened boxes and set them down on the bar in front of her. “Get your hands dirty, why don’t you?” I motioned toward the back door with my head. She grumbled and begrudgingly peeled herself off the bar stool to haul them out to the alley.
“Speaking of tips,” Amanda said, “we had a party of six last night and guess how much they gave me for a two-hundred-dollar tab?”
I put my hands on my hips and blew a stray hair off my forehead while checking the bar area to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. “How much?”
“Sixty dollars, baby!”
Half the patrons didn’t tip even twenty percent. “Good job,” I praised, then partially tuned her out as she continued to tell me how one of them had invited her to some party across town.