The Shadow Prince
Page 57

“You don’t have time for such distractions,” Simon says. “Leave this to me. This isn’t your concern.”
“But that thing almost hurt my Boon,” I say. “That does concern me. And I’m sure it’s only just started with its attacks. If we don’t stop it now …”
Simon snaps his gaze in my direction. I don’t look away fast enough, and he locks eyes with me. “Drop it,” he says. “This conversation is over. Let me handle this.”
I find myself unable to speak anymore about the topic—but I know this matter is far from being over.
Chapter thirty
DAPHNE
I don’t realize that I have been asleep until the sound of a phone ringing wakes me up. In my groggy, disoriented state, I find I am unable to tell if what had happened in the last few hours—the party, Lexie near the grove, strange shadows and lightning, Haden walking me home—had been real, or if I’d merely been having the strangest dream.
I blink several times and my eyes focus on the dirty, torn blue dress that’s draped over the back of my vanity chair.
Nope, definitely not a dream.
The clock on my dresser tells me it’s early Saturday morning. Too early for social calls, I think as I pick up the phone.
It’s my mother.
Her voice is bordering on shrill, and the notes of concern ringing through her words are so strong that I panic, thinking she’s somehow gotten wind of what happened after the party and is about to demand that I pack my bags and come home. Instead, I realize she’s saying something about CeCe.
I sit up in bed with the handset pressed to my ear. “What was that?”
“Have you heard anything from CeCe in the last week?” she asks.
“No. I’ve left her messages, but she hasn’t called back.”
“Nothing? No texts or anything?”
“No,” I say, not admitting that my cell phone is probably in some guy named Haden Lord’s bedroom. Who may happen to be related to a kidnapper, according to my new bestie. “Why?”
“She’s gone,” my mom says.
“What? What do you mean, gone?” I try to keep the panic from rising in my voice, but Tobin’s talk of missing girls is making me as paranoid as he is.
“Demi, you’re being overly dramatic and scaring the girl.” I hear Jonathan’s soothing voice and realize I’m on speakerphone. Probably in the flower shop, the faint buzz of the old cooler in the background. “Hey, honey, how was the fancy party? You took pictures, didn’t you?”
“It was … nice,” I say. “But what’s this about CeCe? I thought she had the flu.”
“She quit,” Jonathan says. “In a note, of all things, and right before we needed to get all the orders in for the Harvest Banquet.”
“Why would she quit?”
“I don’t know,” Mom says.
“When did this happen?”
“I don’t know when she left,” Mom says. “She called in sick the morning after you went to California and didn’t come in for any of her shifts this week. I figured she must have been feeling really poorly, so I went over to her apartment with some of my tummy tea this morning, and, well, she was just gone. Her landlord said she left a check to cover cleaning and a note saying that she quit her job and was leaving town.”
“Why?” I ask.
“No idea. She’s never seemed interested in leaving Ellis.”
“I told you,” I hear Indie’s staccato voice from somewhere in the background. “She must have taken that new job.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Some woman called the shop a few days ago,” Indie says, coming closer to the speakerphone. “She was asking all these employment verification questions. Like how long CeCe had worked here, where she’d worked before, and stuff. I don’t get why everyone is worked up about it. So she quit and took a new job in a town that actually has malls and stuff.”
Honestly, I can’t blame CeCe, considering I’d left Ellis for bigger and better things. It just surprises me that she hadn’t called to tell me her plans.
“We were hoping you’d heard more from her,” Jonathan says. “I can’t get over her not saying good-bye.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Mom says. “She always seemed so happy here. Right up until you …”
“Right up until I left,” I say, finishing the thought for her.
Chapter thirty-one
HADEN
“He’s not even singing,” Tobin whispers to Daphne. They sit on the other side of the half circle of chairs in the music room. It’s amusing that he thinks I don’t know what he’s saying. I can’t actually hear their words over the singing, but I have spent the weekend mastering the art of lipreading. What isn’t amusing, however, is that Tobin has caught on to the fact that I’m merely moving my own lips along with the rest of the choir. Daphne looks up at me. I stare down at the songbook in my hands. Maybe I should try singing along, but I don’t know how to make my voice do what hers does, even if I want to. I feel her gaze leave me and I glance back at her.
“Maybe he’s just intimidated,” Daphne says. “It’s his first day in the program.”
My hands grow hot at the idea that she thinks I am afraid. I take a deep breath, tempering myself before I set the songbook on fire.
“Maybe he doesn’t know how to sing.”
“Then he shouldn’t be here at all.” The hard-lined look on Tobin’s face makes me wonder what exactly his problem is.
“Leave him alone,” Daphne whispers to him. “I think I was mistaken about him. He’s not the bad guy I thought he was.”
“I think he’s exactly who you thought he was.”
Mr. Morgan shoots them a cross look for talking while the others are singing. This song is supposed to be for the rock opera that Daphne’s father is writing—or so the teacher had explained at the beginning of the class period. It’s a chorus piece, which apparently means that Daphne is not part of the song. I find myself wishing she were. I want to know if her voice is as enchanting as I remember.
When the song ends, Mr. Morgan addresses the class. “Very good. Very good. But we still have a lot of work. I want this song ready to present to Mr. Vince for his approval by the end of the week. Now for another matter,” he says. “The mayor has asked me to find volunteers to provide entertainment for the Light-up Olympus Festival at the end of November. Does anyone want to sign up to do a musical number as part of a showcase the night of the festival?”