Gil's All Fright Diner - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"That was . . . nice," Cathy said.
"Yeah." His grin grew stupider and more lopsided. His mouth nearly fell off his face. "Nice."
Napoleon barked.
There was the unmistakable wet pop of a beer can being opened. Earl glanced over Cathy's shoulder. Duke stood mere feet away.
"Earl," the werewolf greeted. "You wanna introduce me to your friend?"
"s.h.i.+t," the vampire grunted.
Cathy jumped to her feet. She beamed enthusiastically and held out a hand. As a ghost, she so rarely got to meet new people.
"Hi! I'm Cathy!"
He didn't take her up on the handshake.
"He can't touch you." Earl sat up. "He's a werewolf. Not a vampire."
"A wolf man. Really?"
"Werewolf," Duke corrected. "Wolfman is some dork with a facial hair problem runnin' through Transylvania, mugging Gypsies."
"Oh. Sorry." She ran her fingers through her hair with an embarra.s.sed grin.
"S'alright."
Duke snapped off a can of Old Milwaukee from the six-pack under his arm and tossed it through Cathy's insubstantial form. Earl fumbled his catch. It bounced off his knee and rolled in the dirt.
"I thought you gave up drinkin'."
Duke sucked down the beer and crushed the can. "It's just a coupl'a beers." He tossed the empty aside and opened another.
Earl wiped the dirt off his own beer. "Cathy, this is Duke. He's a friend of mine."
"So you're really a werewolf?"
"Yup."
"And you guys are really friends?"
"Sort'a," Earl replied hesitantly.
"That's cool. I always thought werewolves and vampires didn't get along." She chuckled. "Well, I never thought vampires and werewolves really existed before. Even after I died, I never gave it much thought. But I figured just because ghosts existed that wasn't necessarily proof that other . . . uh . . . things existed."
She grinned.
"Sorry. I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm just not used to having so much company. What I meant to say was that I'd always just a.s.sumed that vampires and werewolves didn't get along. I don't know why, but I always got that impression."
"It's a common misconception," Earl said.
Duke's affinity with animals extended to even deceased, incorporeal dogs. Napoleon found his way by the werewolf's side. The terrier stared up with eager eyes. Since petting was impossible, he was just happy to be near Duke.
The werewolf bent on one knee and dangled his fingers over Napoleon. The terrier snapped at the digits playfully.
Cathy glided over and looped her arm around Earl's own. For the first time ever, she made him uncomfortable. Actually she made him uncomfortable all the time, but this was the first time she did so in a bad way. It wasn't her fault. It was Duke's.
The werewolf just kept looking at him in that annoying, I-know-more-than-you way of his. Duke didn't talk much, but Earl knew what he was thinking. Most times. Occasionally Duke would cast a glance that defied interpretation. During those cryptic moments, Earl knew Duke had figured out some ultimate secret of the universe that he wasn't quite willing to share with anybody else.
He was giving Earl one of those looks now, made all the more irritating since Duke wasn't even looking directly at him. Just playing with the ghost dog, acting like he wasn't thinking what he was.
"Duke, can I talk to you for a second?"
The vampire tried to smile politely and ended up scowling instead. "In private."
"No problem."
"Would you excuse us for a moment?" He squeezed Cathy's hand and let go reluctantly. "I'll be right back."
"It was nice meeting you, Duke."
Duke bobbed his head back at her. "See you around."
Earl led him through the graveyard gates and into the middle of the dirt road. He plastered a fake smile across his face for Cathy's benefit.
"How'd you know where to find me?" Earl asked.
"Wasn't hard. Diner's just across the road there. And last night, you came in reeking of ectoplasm."
"d.a.m.n." Earl had forgotten Duke's powerful nose was sensitive enough to smell even the stuff of spirits.
"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, you p.r.i.c.k. How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough. So you like this girl?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I like her. Okay, I like her. Is that alright with you?"
Duke's reply was a slight, hardly noticeable smirk.
Earl's toothy smile grew wider as his exasperation rose. "And you know what? She likes me. That's right. Me. You got a problem with that?"
"Nope."
They stood in silence for a few seconds. Finally Earl couldn't take it anymore.
"You a.s.shole. Why do you got to do this to me?"
"I ain't doin' nuthin' to you."
Earl threw up his hands. "The h.e.l.l you ain't."
"Careful there, Earl. Your girlfriend's watchin'."
Cathy stood at the edge of the cemetery. She smiled and waved at the vampire. Earl smiled back.
"I know what you're thinking, Duke. You're thinking I'm fooling myself. That a girl like that is too good for me. That if she wasn't a ghost and I wasn't a bloodsucker she'd have nuthin' to do with me."
"Is that what I'm thinkin'?"
"Yeah. And you know what, you fat son of a b.i.t.c.h? You're right. And you know what else? I don't care. She likes me. I like her. And she's coming with us. You got a problem with that?"
Earl intensely glared into Duke's chin. He would have looked into his eyes, but resorting to an upward angle would've been admitting the werewolf's size advantage. Of course, size was just one of his advantages. If the impulse hit him, he could easily rip off Earl's right arm and shove it down the vampire's throat. Earl hoped he wouldn't. Not while Cathy was watching.
"Earl, you dips.h.i.+t."
Duke slapped Earl on the shoulder. Earl stumbled, nearly tumbling over. The werewolf grinned an actual, honest-to-G.o.d, wide smile. Earl had never seen Duke do that before. He didn't even know it was possible. He'd always a.s.sumed Duke didn't have the necessary muscles for such expressions.
Duke chortled, tossed a wave to Cathy, and headed toward the diner. Napoleon trotted after him. Just before he went back inside, he turned back, wearing one of his regular, understated smiles.
He'd figured out another of those G.o.dd.a.m.n secrets.
Earl felt almost close to getting this one himself, but rather than spend any more time pondering it, he just headed back to the graveyard.
Tammy's parents let Chad come over to the house for regular tutoring sessions. Despite her unexceptional grades, it was a plausible reason: Chad's grades were even worse. Her parents even let them be alone in her room as long as the door was open a crack.
Very little tutoring went on in Tammy's room. Depending on how educational someone might consider Chad copying Tammy's homework. He sat at her desk and busily copied her history homework while Tammy flipped through the latest edition of Crazy Ctharl's Hard-To-Find Sorcerous Emporium. The catalogue was a necessity for the modern high priestess. In the Dark Ages, finding fresh mandrake root or the spleen of a virgin wasn't all that hard. In the twentieth century, who had the time to dig around beneath a hangman's tree or figure out what a spleen even looked like. Crazy Ctharl's catalogue was a lifesaver. It offered reliable delivery, though it didn't use the mail. Somehow, whatever you ordered found its way to you. Usually wrapped in discreet brown paper. Though there was that time Tammy ordered a bag of Hitler's ashes and found it under her pillow before she'd even sent in the order.
Best of all, the prices were reasonable. She was on a tight budget and finding the glittering scales of Hecate for only three dollars a pound made things so much easier. The cover boasted "Prices so low, you'll question the collective dream of sanity." Beneath that, another line declared, "The darkness approaches, and Ctharl says everything must be sold before the Lords of Doom swallow the world!" Crazy Ctharl always said the world was ending. This once, he was right.
Tammy skimmed through the pages. There were lots of things she wanted. The fang of a shadow, candles made with the Wax of Vorgo, and a wide a.s.sortment of sacrificial daggers. She didn't let these items distract her. She stuck with only what she needed. Her savings still fell short. She marked off the items she could sc.r.a.pe together with a little effort on her part, and still needed a few more dollars.
"How much money do you got, Chad?"
Chad stopped copying. "What?"
"Money," she sighed. "How much do you have?"
He reached into his pockets and pulled out a couple of bucks.
"Not on you, stupid. I mean, how much do you have saved?"
"My grandma gave me a hundred bucks for my birthday, but I'm saving it for a trip."
"I'll need it."
"But I'm saving it for a trip," he whined, in case she hadn't heard him the first time.
Normally, she would have called upon her feminine wiles to persuade him. She wasn't in the mood. She frowned and squinted hard in his direction.
Chad went back to copying. Even with his back to her, he could feel her icy stare. "I thought, uh, maybe after graduation we could, y'know, go somewhere." He glanced over his shoulder. Not at her, but in her general direction. "Together."
Tammy smiled. It was not a good smile. Then again, her good smiles weren't really very good either if someone knew the dark thoughts behind them.
"A road trip?" she asked.
"Uh . . . yeah."
"After graduation."
"Uh . . . yeah."
"Together."
He bit the inside of his cheek and tapped his pencil against the desk. "I was thinking we could maybe go to Vegas. I've always wanted to go to Vegas."
She smiled wider. "Sounds like fun."
"Yeah. We could go to the strip. Maybe see one of those big shows. I mean, I know we won't have much money by then, but we can still have a good time."
Her face fell blank. The pencil in Chad's hand snapped in two.
"Man, you are such a dumba.s.s," she muttered.
"But I thought . . ."
"You didn't think, Chad. You never think."
He slammed his fist into his palm. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Tammy. Stop callin' me stupid. You're always callin' me stupid."
"That's because you are stupid."
"You're such a b.i.t.c.h." He crumpled up his copied homework, stuffed it in his pocket, and headed toward the door.
It slammed shut all by itself.
"Sit down, Chad."
"f.u.c.k you."
He reached for the k.n.o.b and got a jolt that numbed his forearm and stopped him cold.
"I said, sit down."
Chad obeyed. He ma.s.saged the gooey muscles of his wrist.
Her father shouted from the living room.
She pointed to the door, and it opened wide enough to suit parental regulations. "Sorry, Dad!"