wrapped in shirts the whole way.
I was wondering if vampires could suffocate later as I watched Blythe pull up a search engine. Dooby and Castor had grocery shopped, so Blythe and I made a quick dinner of sandwiches and chips before settling in front of the computer to find this band.
“The witch who answered the phone said the band is called Staglina.”
It wasn’t hard to find them. They must have been popular because they came up on the first search page. Their website was a dark, serene blue with an image of the moon hovering over an ocean. There were no concert locations, no band member biographies…nothing but a link to a video.
Blythe clicked and sat back with a thump against her chair when the music started. So did I. My heart pounded harder, warmth filled my chest. Women’s voices raised in a harmony like nothing I’d ever heard filled the room. Castor and Dooby left the table where they’d been poring over the ancient spell book translations and approached the computer.
We all waited until the last note played, then I released a shaky breath. “Whoa.”
Blythe shook her head. “Sophie can’t be in that. This is magic.”
“Of course it’s magic—they’re witches.” I managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was trying not to do that so much around Blythe with her habit of stating the obvious. I did catch Phro’s eye roll in my peripheral vision. The goddess couldn’t care less about the little witch’s feelings.
Castor leaned over my shoulder and used the mouse to restart the video. He turned the speakers down. “Look at their faces.”
I squinted at the small video. All I saw was a blur of women in blue dresses. “What faces? This is obviously a poorly recorded phone video from a concert.”
“And Staglina linked to it?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Why not? That song alone would pull a lot of people to their concerts.”
“Nothing around them is blurred—just their faces.”
The stage, the trees behind it, everything else showed up sharp and crystal clear. “Creepy.”
“Suspicious,” Blythe replied. “Wonder what Staglina means?” She clicked back to the home page. “And why wouldn’t they have a concert listing? I was told Sophie called them from Alabama. Some small town near Birmingham.”
“I think Staglina is Norse.” I searched the memories of my stint with an obsessive Norse mythology fascination. I’d been trying to find a troll and got completely caught up in the old stories. I wouldn’t be telling Aphrodite this, but I never got quite as fascinated with the Greek myths. “I’m sure Nikolos has some books on Norse myth in his library, but I think I remember it having something to do with a chain and anchor.”
Blythe clicked on another page. Empty again. “I don’t get it. What kind of band has no useful information on their site? How are fans supposed to find them?”
“See if you can find a mention of their concert.” I took a bite of the ham sandwich, enjoyed the extra kick of sharp cheddar. “Maybe someone who went to the last concert blogged or something.”
An hour later, all we had was the location of the last show in Alabama, and that came from a small news piece on cops being called out to break up a concert.
Blythe sighed and stretched her neck back and forth. “I’ll stay on this and read comments on the video page. There were hundreds.” She picked up a potato chip and crunched it.
“Have fun with that. Comment sections on any website never fail to sap at my belief in the general goodness of human beings.” Grimacing, I reached for the mini-coffin I’d built. “I’m too tired to deal with that little creature in the bathroom tonight. Have Elsa or Castor… Wait.” I turned to Dooby, who’d gone back to the book. “You have power over the dead, right, Dooby?”
He looked up. “Yeah, but vampires aren’t technically all-the-way dead.”
“Do you think you could figure out how to feed him so he doesn’t starve before
I was wondering if vampires could suffocate later as I watched Blythe pull up a search engine. Dooby and Castor had grocery shopped, so Blythe and I made a quick dinner of sandwiches and chips before settling in front of the computer to find this band.
“The witch who answered the phone said the band is called Staglina.”
It wasn’t hard to find them. They must have been popular because they came up on the first search page. Their website was a dark, serene blue with an image of the moon hovering over an ocean. There were no concert locations, no band member biographies…nothing but a link to a video.
Blythe clicked and sat back with a thump against her chair when the music started. So did I. My heart pounded harder, warmth filled my chest. Women’s voices raised in a harmony like nothing I’d ever heard filled the room. Castor and Dooby left the table where they’d been poring over the ancient spell book translations and approached the computer.
We all waited until the last note played, then I released a shaky breath. “Whoa.”
Blythe shook her head. “Sophie can’t be in that. This is magic.”
“Of course it’s magic—they’re witches.” I managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was trying not to do that so much around Blythe with her habit of stating the obvious. I did catch Phro’s eye roll in my peripheral vision. The goddess couldn’t care less about the little witch’s feelings.
Castor leaned over my shoulder and used the mouse to restart the video. He turned the speakers down. “Look at their faces.”
I squinted at the small video. All I saw was a blur of women in blue dresses. “What faces? This is obviously a poorly recorded phone video from a concert.”
“And Staglina linked to it?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Why not? That song alone would pull a lot of people to their concerts.”
“Nothing around them is blurred—just their faces.”
The stage, the trees behind it, everything else showed up sharp and crystal clear. “Creepy.”
“Suspicious,” Blythe replied. “Wonder what Staglina means?” She clicked back to the home page. “And why wouldn’t they have a concert listing? I was told Sophie called them from Alabama. Some small town near Birmingham.”
“I think Staglina is Norse.” I searched the memories of my stint with an obsessive Norse mythology fascination. I’d been trying to find a troll and got completely caught up in the old stories. I wouldn’t be telling Aphrodite this, but I never got quite as fascinated with the Greek myths. “I’m sure Nikolos has some books on Norse myth in his library, but I think I remember it having something to do with a chain and anchor.”
Blythe clicked on another page. Empty again. “I don’t get it. What kind of band has no useful information on their site? How are fans supposed to find them?”
“See if you can find a mention of their concert.” I took a bite of the ham sandwich, enjoyed the extra kick of sharp cheddar. “Maybe someone who went to the last concert blogged or something.”
An hour later, all we had was the location of the last show in Alabama, and that came from a small news piece on cops being called out to break up a concert.
Blythe sighed and stretched her neck back and forth. “I’ll stay on this and read comments on the video page. There were hundreds.” She picked up a potato chip and crunched it.
“Have fun with that. Comment sections on any website never fail to sap at my belief in the general goodness of human beings.” Grimacing, I reached for the mini-coffin I’d built. “I’m too tired to deal with that little creature in the bathroom tonight. Have Elsa or Castor… Wait.” I turned to Dooby, who’d gone back to the book. “You have power over the dead, right, Dooby?”
He looked up. “Yeah, but vampires aren’t technically all-the-way dead.”
“Do you think you could figure out how to feed him so he doesn’t starve before
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