Ghosts of July (Shamans of the Divide, Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-two

"I'm pretty sure I'm the fool, actually," I said.

Ernie didn't disagree. He actually had the nerve to nod.

"How much did you listen to?"

"Between you and the kid? All of it. What happened inside with the old farts?"

I laughed at that. It was pretty funny—and accurate.

"They're going to take care of it. They're going to ward the thing, whatever it is, in those Stones you told me about."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ernie let out a long column of smoke. My car should have smelled like a chimney, but I had to remind myself it was only ghost smoke. Ernie and his cigarette weren't really sitting there.

"They're full of crap," he finally said. "And the kid's an idiot for listening to his uncle without bothering to think for himself."

I was a couple minutes behind Renn when he'd arrived at the diner. I wondered what they talked about.

"Did you hear something between them?"

Ernie shrugged.

"I see things sometimes. The uncle doesn't like you. He thinks you're trouble and that the kid should stay away."

That stung. I didn't say anything for the rest of the drive and when I finally pulled up at Nana's house, Ernie had faded away. I hadn't had a chance to ask him about the demon. Damn.

 Nana's car wasn't parked in the driveway, either. I was alone.

I trudged inside and turned on the air conditioner. It was going to be a hot day and it looked like I wasn't going anywhere for a while. Dragging my bag upstairs, I turned on the light in my room and plopped down on the middle of my unmade bed, unsure of what to do with myself.

I could cry. I could eat my bodyweight in cookies and cream ice cream. I could watch reality television. There were lots of things I could do, but I didn't want to do anything at all. Mostly I just wanted to think about Renn and feel sorry for myself. Again.

My eyes were heavy and I let them slide shut. Maybe a good nap would help me. Maybe I could wake up in a few hours and have no memory of Renn at all.

# # #

The phone ringing down the hall jerked me awake from the heavy sleep of my nap. I croaked out a greeting.

"Hi Buttercup! I'm glad I reached you. I'll be home later for a few hours and I wanted to make sure you'd be there. Seems like I haven't seen you in weeks."

Nana sounded chipper. Too chipper. If I didn't know any better, she wanted something.

"Listen," she said, sliding straight to it. I knew it. "That new girl Lara's a no-show so far. Do you think you might be able to come in tonight and cover her shift? I know it's your night off and it's going to be slow, but I'd feel better knowing you have it covered."

Ugh. Waitressing is the last thing I felt like doing. A root canal seemed more appetizing at this point, and I was half a breath from making some lame excuse before I stopped myself.

"That's fine," I sighed and collapsed backwards on my bed with an oof.

"Great," she said quickly. "I'll be home in about an hour and we can have a late lunch before your shift starts."

Returning the phone to the cradle on the bench in the hall, I caught a glimpse of the alarm clock on Nana's headboard. It was nearly two in the afternoon.

I showered and braided my hair and just as I was pulling on my extra sensible, extra ugly shoes, I heard Nana downstairs.

"You up, Buttercup?" She called up the staircase.