Goddess of the Night (5 page)

"Hey,
Morgan." Serena set down the cello. Her chartreuse fingernails
worked the combination on her locker.

"She's
such a walking rummage sale," Morgan whispered disapprovingly.

"I like
it," Vanessa said.

"I like
it, too," Catty agreed.

Morgan sighed.
"Okay, she has her moments. But she's got a bad addiction to the
bizarre."

"How could
you know that? She's only been in school a few weeks," Vanessa
argued. "I heard her family moved here from Long Beach so she
could take classes at UCLA along with her high school classes."

"Having
brains doesn't mean you're not weird," Morgan said, casting a
sly glance at Catty. "Her best friend is on probation, some gang
girl from East L.A."

"That
doesn't mean anything." Irritation buzzed inside Vanessa.

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"I hear
they stay out all night. I bet they're into some kinky stuff."

Serena opened
her locker and cast an amused look at Morgan.

Morgan pulled
peach hand lotion from her purse and spread it over her arms. "Too
bad her brother's such a surf nazi. What a loss. He's the kind of guy
you'd like to spend the night with. But the only thing he's looking
for are waves. What is it with this town, anyway? Do all the gorgeous
guys just wake up one morning and decide they're too good for women?"

"Don't you
think there are other things to worry about?" Catty was losing
her patience.

Vanessa gave
her a quick look. She wasn't in the mood to referee another fight
between Catty and Morgan.

Morgan didn't
seem to hear her. "Collin is as cute as Michael," she
continued. "Almost. I don't know how he got such a freaky
sister. Hey, why don't you ask Serena about Michael if you don't
believe me?"

"Has she
dated him?" Vanessa asked.

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Morgan laughed
dismissively. "I can't believe you don't know."

"What?"
Catty and Vanessa said together.

Morgan leaned
in closer. "She's a fortuneteller. She can answer your questions
about guys. She charges twenty dollars a pop. But I swear it's worth
fifty."

"How did
you find out so much so quickly?" Catty was amazed.

"I ask."
Morgan nodded wisely. "She's read my fortune twice already."

"She
probably just tells you what you want to hear," Vanessa scoffed.

Morgan shook
her head. "It's spooky. I swear. With her tarot cards, it's like
she knows things no one can know. Don't ask her anything you're
afraid to find out because you might not like the answer. And you
have to go alone. That's her only rule. You need to go see her,
Vanessa."

"Why?"

"She'll
tell you just how bad your broken heart will be; some girls never
recover from Michael Saratoga."

Vanessa didn't
think that sounded like

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Michael. He was
polite and sweet, and she liked his gentle humor. He never told
raunchy jokes, or made vulgar comments like so many of the guys at
school did.

Serena picked
up her cello and walked over to them. "Were you one of those
girls, Morgan?"

"What
girls?"

"You know,
one of the girls who never recovered from a broken heart?" There
was a sparkle in Serena's green eyes.

"Damn."
Morgan's eyes narrowed. "See what I mean?"

"How did
you know what we were talking about?" Vanessa asked.

"I have
acute hearing," Serena said.

Morgan gave her
a dirty look.

Serena stuck
out her pierced tongue, showing off the stainless-steel barbell.

"Cool."
Catty had already pierced her belly button. Vanessa wanted to but
hadn't gotten up the nerve yet.

Morgan wrinkled
her nose in disgust. "Germ central." She walked away, but
she kept casting

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backward
glances as if she were afraid Serena was going to put a curse on her.

"Here."
Serena handed Vanessa and Catty each a piece of paper. "My home
address. Come by any time you want your fortune read. And come
alone." She picked up her cello and started toward the bus stop.
"Catch you later."

Catty tossed
her paper on the ground. "Too endlessly weird. On a scale of one
to infinity, she gets infinity plus a billion. I don't believe anyone
can see into the future."

"That
sounds strange coming from you." Vanessa glanced at her watch.
"We're supposed to meet my mother, and with your insane time
travel we're going to be late."

"I'll just
take us back an hour," Catty started.

"No."
Vanessa stopped her. "We're going to do it the old-fashioned
way. We're going to walk and I'm going to get yelled at for being
late."

Vanessa stared
at the paper Serena had given her as she and Catty walked up La Brea
Avenue toward Melrose. Was what Morgan had said about Michael true?
She tucked the paper in her pocket.

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Chapter 7

FRIDAY
AFTERNOON, campus security roamed the hallways and parking lot at La
Brea High School, trying to stop surfers, skaters, gangsters, and
ravers from cutting the rest of the school day and starting an early
weekend.

"Come on,"
Catty called. "They'll never catch us if we sneak off campus
through the back field. I've done it a million times."

Vanessa
hesitated. "But we'll get suspended if they catch us."

Catty giggled
and pulled Vanessa forward. "Whoever thought of suspending
students for cutting classes? It's exactly what they wanted in the
first place."

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"It goes
on your permanent record."

"Don't you
want to ask my mother if she knows what those words mean, the ones
you said the other night?" Catty smiled persuasively.

"I can
wait till after school."

"I told
you she's busy tonight. Now's your only chance."

"All
right." Vanessa sighed.

"Great,"
Catty said. "Let's hurry."

They ran down
the narrow weed-filled corridor between the gym and music building.
Grasshoppers and moths scattered in front of their feet. A trill of
flutes and the honk of a tuba came from inside the music room.

At the end of
the buildings, they stopped and scanned the football field. It was
empty.

"Walk
slowly," Catty warned. "If security calls us, just turn
back and pretend we didn't hear the bell. Or . . ."

"Or?"
Vanessa said.

"Or just
make us invisible."

"Right,"
Vanessa mumbled sarcastically, and glanced behind them. Her heart
thumped against her chest. Catty was always talking her into doing

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things she knew
were wrong, like staying out late, cutting classes, and making prank
calls.

They squeezed
under the wire mesh fence and hurried down a side street to La Brea.

"There,
see? Not so hard." Catty grinned as they headed down La Brea
Avenue toward Third.

The Darma
Bookstore was between Polka Dots and Moonbeams Dress Shop and Who's
on Third? cafe. Brass bells on long leather cords tingled in harmony
when they pushed through the door. Smoky incense curled sinuously
around them and filled the air with a pungent scent.

"Hi, Mom,"
Catty called.

The store
always gave Vanessa a feeling of peace and security. Water bubbled
from fountains set in stone planters near the door and the chanting
of Tibetan monks flowed from speakers set in the wall. Books,
packages of candles, incense, prayer beads, crystals, and essence
oils lined white shelves in neat arrays.

Catty's mother,
Kendra, pushed through the blue curtains separating the back room
from the store.

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"You got
out of school early," she said with a smile and winked. She was
tall and bony, with a narrow face and long brown hair streaked with
gray. She wore a stunning purple dress that flowed around her when
she walked. The sleeves were long and touched the tips of her
fingers. A pair of red-framed reading glasses dangled on a chain
around her neck and clicked against the rose crystals she wore. She
believed in the healing energy stored in crystals. Today she also
wore the pouch given to her by a traditional doctor on one of her
trips to Botswana.

She hugged
Catty, and then put both hands around Vanessa's face and kissed her.
She smelled of sesame oil, camphor, cardamom, and cinnamon. She
rubbed the spicy concoction into her temples several times during the
day to stimulate her senses.

She looked at
Vanessa a long time. Vanessa always had the feeling that Catty's
mother was trying to detect something different about her.

"I was
just making ginger tea. Let's go in the back. It'll help detoxify
your body and digestive system,"

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Catty rolled
her eyes. "Mom, don't you have anything that regular people
like?"

"I just
grated the ginger and the milk is warm," Kendra went on as if
she hadn't heard Catty's complaint. "You'll love it."

They followed
her through the bookcases to a small kitchen in the back of the store
and sat down at the oak table. Pictures of UFO sightings and a huge
poster of deep space taken from the Hubble telescope hung on the
walls.

"Did you
girls have a good day at school?" Kendra asked, and started to
pour them each a cup of milky ginger tea.

Catty put her
hand over the top of the cup. "Don't you have any cocoa mix?"

"The
ginger tea is better for you."

Catty rolled
her eyes.

Vanessa smiled.
She liked Catty's mom.

Kendra sighed.
"All right." Then she looked at Vanessa. "I suppose
you want hot chocolate, too?"

"Yes,
please." Vanessa studied the picture of a fuzzy flying saucer
hovering over the desert in Arizona.

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Kendra reheated
the milk in the microwave, then spooned cocoa into two mugs. She
poured milk over the cocoa and brought the mugs back to the table and
sat down.

Vanessa opened
her messenger bag and pulled out a piece of paper on which she had
carefully written the words she had spoken on the night she was being
chased. She handed the paper to Kendra. "I was wondering if you
knew what this meant."

Kendra put on
her reading glasses. Her lips moved as she read the words to herself.

"These
words just came to you?"

Vanessa nodded.

Kendra examined
the words closely. "The words are misspelled, but even so, I
know it's Latin. It appears you were praying to the moon to protect
you." She smoothed the paper and ran her index finger under the
words as she read, "O Mother Moon, Queen of the night, help me
now."

Vanessa put
down her cocoa, unable to speak. She lifted her moon amulet with
trembling fingers and stared at it.

"Mother
Moon," she repeated, then she

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looked at Catty
and saw she was reacting the same way.

"Freaky,"
Catty said.

"Oh, it's
not so strange." Nothing ever seemed to surprise Kendra. "You
and Catty have always had a connection to the moon. I suppose you
could have seen this prayer in a book a long time back, memorized it,
forgot it, and then said it in panic. Now if the moon had helped you,
that
would be strange."

Vanessa nodded,
but she was sure she had not read this prayer before. She stared at
the words she had written on the folded piece of paper. Why had she
prayed to the moon to protect her?

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Chapter 8

SATURDAY,
VANESSA waited impatiently outside her house for Michael. She wore a
pale green sundress and sandals that she had bought with her mother
in a boutique on Robertson Boulevard. Her mother had been thrilled
she had wanted to shop with her. Now Vanessa worried the dress looked
too desperate, with its thin straps, bare back, and short skirt.

Too bad, she
decided. Why was she so worried, anyway? She enjoyed the silky run of
material over her skin.

The sun's last
fiery rays dusted the tops of the palm trees with gold as a
Volkswagen bus

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painted with
psychedelic pink-and-orange flowers like an old hippie van turned
onto her street. The headlights came on, and the van drove slowly
toward her. The van stopped in front of her and Michael leaned out
the window.

"Hi,"
he said with a slow, lazy smile. She felt herself getting lost in
that smile, those eyes and lips.

"Hi."
Her molecules buzzed slow and easy.

He turned off
the engine, crawled out, and walked around to the passenger side
door.

"You like
the van? My dad couldn't part with it, so he saved it for me,"
he said and opened the van door.

"Nice."
She admired it, but her thoughts were not on the van.

She climbed in
and settled nicely, her bare back pressed against the warm seat.
Inside smelled of spicy foods and beach tar. His surfboard lay on
wadded towels in the back.

He hesitated
before he closed the door.

"You look
pretty." But his eyes said she looked more than pretty. He took
her hand and kissed the fingers, still gazing at her.

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Waves of energy
rushed through her, stirring her molecules into a risky dance. Her
hands and neck tingled. She took a slow easy breath. "Thank you.

The van door
slammed.

The thought of
being alone with him made an indolent smile cross her face. Her
stomach muscles tensed, skin tight. Her nervous fingers were unable
to stay still. She grabbed the sides of the seat to steady herself as
he got in the van.

"I want to
take you to the Hollywood Bowl. Do you like music?"

She nodded and
watched him look at her. His eyes said he wanted to devour her. Good,
she thought, and pushed Morgan's warning away.