Chapter 28
28
Sonny
D owntown Nocturne Valley is made up of four blocks that are jam-packed with small businesses lining the sidewalk and apartments stacked above. They wrap around a large park—all of which is situated in the center of a web of crowded residential streets. Uneven cobblestone paths line the way, with built-in mini gardens and small trees breaking them up. While there are narrow roads that snake between streets, most people appear to get around on foot. They rush past us as we unload from our taxi, taking great care to keep a safe distance away.
“It’s always like this,” Ava explains, strapping her small, cupcake-shaped purse around her shoulder. “They treat us like we’ve got the plague.”
Once Beatrix pays the driver and closes the door, she adds, “I don’t think they’re allowed to interact with the students much.”
“ Allowed ? That seems odd.”
Ava shrugs. “Small town politics. Either that, or they truly detest us.”
“They don’t detest us, they resent us. A majority of them are Null, and we’re . . . not,” Beatrix corrects glumly.
“Were they ever gifted?” I wonder.
“When you get a straight answer on that, let me know.”
They turn to head south and I follow close behind, noting how the woman and child we pass refuse to lift their gazes up to mine. There are signs posted on light posts every dozen feet that match the one I saw taped to the back of the taxi driver’s seat. It reads:
Students are NOT permitted to use their gifts within Nocturne Valley town limits. Violators will be fined and could face expulsion.
NO EXCEPTIONS.
Interesting. So, Nocturne Valley isn’t a fan of the students. Good to know.
We walk by a few stores before they randomly come to a stop.
Starlight Stitchery and Dress Shoppe is crammed in between a butcher shop and a pet store with nothing to identify it but a small, neon roll of thread on the door. It’s not until Beatrix opens the door and shoves me inside that I see the soft pink walls with the business name painted in large, white bubble letters across the back wall.
A short, thin woman clad in a lavender power suit stands behind the counter beside a dress form that’s draped in a mess of pink silk and tulle. She doesn’t lift her eyes from the dress she’s working on at the sound of the bell dinging above our heads.
“Hey, Miss Kay,” Ava chirps, pulling the woman’s attention to the door. “My friend is looking for something to wear to the Falconry. Got a few minutes?”
“The Falconry?” the woman sings, dropping her jaw. “Well, aren’t you special? Usually, the girls just call in with their requests. Did you want me to make you something custom?”
Her tone is nice enough, but the look she gives me practically begs for the answer to be no. I can only imagine how busy she is this time of year if she’s truly the only seamstress in town like Ava said. She rounds the counter to stand before us, her brows raised in question.
Shaking my head, I gesture around the store. “I was hoping to buy something off the rack, if that’s okay.”
Relief sweeps across her face, her shoulders falling as she lets out a sigh of relief.
“Absolutely. Make yourselves at home. I’ve got ball gowns on this rack.” She wraps her hand around a silver wardrobe rack that’s bursting with tulle in all different colors. “Mermaid styles on that wall, sheaths over there . . . ” Her finger stabs in every direction as she rattles off the different styles. Ava and Beatrix nod their heads in understanding, while Jonah sits uselessly in the corner on his phone, just like he said he would.
“I think she’d look amazing in an empire waist, don’t you?” Ava asks the woman, tapping two fingers to her lips in thought.
Everyone turns their gaze toward me, their eyes rolling over my chest, hips, and thighs before they nod their agreement.
“I think you’re right. Maybe something in a rich, dark tone to compliment that beautiful hair.” Short legs scurry over to a track that is far less filled than the first one, with more fabric variation. “This is your best bet. Go ahead and pick a few and we’ll see how they look.”
When we follow her over, she walks back over to the dress she was working on before. “I’m spending every moment I have on these alterations if I’m going to get them done in time, but I’ll be right here if you have any questions.”
We nod our thanks and begin rifling through the rack while Jonah leans against the wall and watches, periodically checking his phone.
“Who are you texting that has you so obsessed with looking at your phone?” Beatrix chides.
“No one,” he answers a little too quickly.
“Yeah, because that sounds convincing . . . ”
“It’s none of your business,” Jonah bites out.
“I’m just not sure why you came along to sit there with your face buried in a screen, smiling like a little schoolgirl. It’s it a guy?” she bickers back. Ava and I finger through the dresses, ignoring the sibling tiff altogether.
Jonah shushes her, throwing his hand out to give her a huge shove when she pretends to grab for his phone.
“Did you tell Beatrix or Jonah how unhinged Whitlock acted in the library the other day?” Ava interrupts with a conspiratorial gleam in her eye as we flip through dresses.
Jonah cocks his head at me and wiggles his brows at the same time Beatrix answers, “No, she didn’t. Do tell.”
Their little spat is long forgotten.
“It was nothing. He overheard me talking bad about him and got mad.”
“He looked like he wanted to murder her,” Ava adds, giving me a long, chastising glare before swiping past another dress. “It scared the hell out of me and Leni when he just appeared over her shoulder out of nowhere. Then, he took her to one of the aisles and I thought he was really going to hurt her.”
“Whitlock seems crazy enough to do it, too.”
“That’s what I said,” Ava agrees.
“I’m sure it’s all a guise to make himself feel important,” I huff, rolling my eyes. He’s actually pretty terrifying when he’s that angry, but I refuse to admit that to them.
“Are you talking about Raze Whitlock?” Miss Kay calls out. She’s stopped her work on the dress again and is peering over at us over her glasses with a serious expression.
“Yeah, we just have a little joke going about him to tease Poppy. I’m sure he’s harmless,” Ava tells her, offering a sheepish smile.
My stomach drops as I remember he’s from Nocturne Valley. She probably knows him and is pissed that we’re talking badly about him.
Instead of laying into us, she surprises me.
“You need to steer clear of that man,” she warns in a serious tone, slowly making her way back over to where we stand. The warm, welcoming nature she greeted us with has disappeared, and her face has gone completely pale.
“The Whitlocks have evil woven deep into their blood. They’re capable of atrocities beyond your comprehension. Why they let that man anywhere near young kids is a mystery none of us can understand.”
We all exchange glances in pure shock at the sudden change in her demeanor, unsure how to proceed. Jonah’s eyes bulge and Ava chews on her bottom lip. I want to question what she means. Why would she say that about a well-respected professor? And not just about him, but his entire family line?
Ava finds words before I do. “We were just joking around.” Her tone is lower—submissive, even—and less enthused than I’ve ever heard it.
“I promise, this is no laughing matter. No one else will tell you this. We’re not allowed. But I don’t give a damn what those popsicles threaten us with. It’s in your best interest to stay away. Nothing good comes from being around one of them.”
With raised brows and pursed lips, she peers into each of our eyes, waiting for us to agree.
Slowly, we each nod and once she’s satisfied with our response, within one blink, her entire face shifts back into the friendly smile she had before. Reaching her arm around me, she plucks a dark, emerald green gown from the rack and holds it up to my chest.
“I think this is the one,” she chirps, then waves me toward the dressing area as if nothing happened.
“ T hat was . . . ”
“Absolutely insane,” Beatrix finishes for Ava once we’re far enough from the store to talk safely. Each of us hit the sidewalk at double speed the moment we were free.
“I didn’t care what you picked. You could have bought a potato sack, and I would have said it looked great, so long as we got out of there,” Jonah jokes, swinging the bag with my gown over his shoulder.
He had surprised me and grabbed it up the moment she tied the knot at the bottom—unwilling to waste a single second.
We almost bought the green gown that she suggested, but Ava found a black one that fit me way better. It was slightly more expensive. Now that I’m away from the craziness of Miss Kay, I’m mentally tallying what I’ll have to go without this month to still send Poppy half of her allowance.
“Same,” Ava agrees, then looks over toward me with an apologetic expression. “The one you picked looks amazing,” she assures, her brows tipped up toward her hairline.
“She’s not usually like that, is she?” Jonah asks.
“Not at all.” Ava shakes her head in disbelief. “How did she change her face so quickly? It was creepy.”
“I thought she was going to rip our skin off and sew it into Poppy’s dress if we didn’t agree with her to stay away.” The idea of a short old lady coming after Jonah makes me want to laugh.
“I don’t think she was lying,” Beatrix interjects, earning incredulous glances from all of us. She shrugs, a lot less affected by whatever just possessed that woman, then amends, “She said they aren’t allowed to tell us that stuff. I believe her. The people in this town are so closed off, I bet they could have a serial killer living among them and they could never warn us. Seems like she was risking a lot with what she did.”
“Who is going to stop her? Besides, the school wouldn’t seriously hire a murderer to teach Psychology 101. That’s just a funny joke people like to make,” Ava argues.
“Wouldn’t psychology be the perfect discipline for a psychopath, though? He would know all the ins and outs of psychological manipulation,” Beatrix points out, echoing my thoughts from before.
“Now, you sound like Poppy,” Ava grumbles. My mouth pops open at the accusation.
Jonah chuckles. “Poppy is a psych major. It checks out.”
“Are we really entertaining this?” Ava practically shrieks.
“I don’t know. I need coffee after that experience.”
“I need a shot of something stronger than espresso.” Jonah sighs.