Goddess of the Night by Lynne Ewing Page A
Authors: Lynne Ewing
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, People & Places, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, supernatural, Los Angeles (Calif.)
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world. His
blue eyes made her wish she had worn jeans and a turtleneck.
She snapped her
fingers in front of his eyes. "My face is here." She spoke
with deliberate venom in her voice. Another time she might have let
it pass, but her emotions felt raw after the trek down the side of
the canyon.
Stanton looked
in her eyes and smiled with one side of his mouth. He seemed to enjoy
her reaction.
Michael stood.
"Come on, Vanessa, we have to leave before the crowd." Was
he jealous?
"I was
just saying hi." Stanton grinned as if Michael's jealousy fed
some need inside him.
Michael walked
quickly, his face a scowl. Once they were away from the concert, they
hiked to his van in the hills.
Michael helped
her into the van, then went around and climbed into the driver's
seat. He looked at her curiously. Under the streetlight his face
tottered between looking angry and seeming frightened.
"Did you
feel it, too?" she asked.
89
"You mean
when we were being chased?"
"No, I'm
talking about Stanton," she said. "Something's weird about
him."
"You
noticed it? The way he gets all happy if he makes other people
uncomfortable or angry or--" He stopped. Was he going to say
jealous?
"Yes."
She looked directly at him.
He started the
engine. They drove back to her house in silence. Michael parked with
a slam of the brakes, then got out, opened her door and walked her up
to the porch.
"I better
get going." His eyes were dark and intense. Then he ran back to
his van.
Where's my
good-night kiss? she wanted to scream. She unlocked the front door as
his van pulled away from the curb. She didn't turn to wave good
night, because she was too afraid he wouldn't be waving back.
90
Chapter 9
THE HOUSE WAS
DARK inside and still smelled of her mother's late-night coffee.
Vanessa climbed the stairs. A spill of light from her mother's
bedroom covered the hall runner. She stopped at the door. Her mother
had fallen asleep reading, an empty coffee mug on the nightstand
beside her. She walked to the bed. The fragrance of her mother's hand
lotion and face creams filled the air. She wanted to curl against her
mother as she had when she was a little girl.
"Mom,"
she said softly. Her mother did not stir. She pressed her cheek
against her mother's and let it rest there a long while.
91
Finally, she
took the book, set it on the nightstand, switched off the light, and
went down the hallway to the bathroom. She turned the spigots. Hot
water rumbled into the tub. Then she caught her reflection in the
mirror. Dirt streaked her face, but it was something more that made
her stop and stare. Her eyes looked wide, haunted, different. The
pupils dilated, the lashes longer, darker. What was happening to her?
She bathed
quickly, put on PJ's from the hook on the bathroom door, and hurried
back to her bedroom. She started to turn on the light, but caution
made her stop. She crept to the window and closed the shutters
against the night, then switched on the small lamp on her desk. She
looked at her computer and scanned her room to see if anything looked
disturbed.
The door to her
bedroom stood open. The dark hallway loomed before her. She took
three quick steps across the room, shut the door, and locked it. When
was the last time she had done that? Even knowing her mother was down
the hallway did not comfort her now. Finally, she called Catty.
A sleepy voice
answered the phone.
92
"Can you
spend the night?"
"Now?
What's going on?" Catty mumbled, her voice still sluggish with
sleep. "What time is it?"
"I don't
know. Midnight maybe. Can you come?"
"Yeah, I
guess," she said. "How am I going to explain it to my
mother?"
"Your
mother never needs an explanation." Vanessa looked behind her.
Why did she feel so edgy?
"I don't
know," Catty hesitated.
"Take a
cab. I'll pay."
Vanessa waited
at the front window, impatiently watching cars drive past her house.
Finally headlights turned down the street, and an orange- yellow taxi
pulled up to the curb. Catty climbed from the
blue eyes made her wish she had worn jeans and a turtleneck.
She snapped her
fingers in front of his eyes. "My face is here." She spoke
with deliberate venom in her voice. Another time she might have let
it pass, but her emotions felt raw after the trek down the side of
the canyon.
Stanton looked
in her eyes and smiled with one side of his mouth. He seemed to enjoy
her reaction.
Michael stood.
"Come on, Vanessa, we have to leave before the crowd." Was
he jealous?
"I was
just saying hi." Stanton grinned as if Michael's jealousy fed
some need inside him.
Michael walked
quickly, his face a scowl. Once they were away from the concert, they
hiked to his van in the hills.
Michael helped
her into the van, then went around and climbed into the driver's
seat. He looked at her curiously. Under the streetlight his face
tottered between looking angry and seeming frightened.
"Did you
feel it, too?" she asked.
89
"You mean
when we were being chased?"
"No, I'm
talking about Stanton," she said. "Something's weird about
him."
"You
noticed it? The way he gets all happy if he makes other people
uncomfortable or angry or--" He stopped. Was he going to say
jealous?
"Yes."
She looked directly at him.
He started the
engine. They drove back to her house in silence. Michael parked with
a slam of the brakes, then got out, opened her door and walked her up
to the porch.
"I better
get going." His eyes were dark and intense. Then he ran back to
his van.
Where's my
good-night kiss? she wanted to scream. She unlocked the front door as
his van pulled away from the curb. She didn't turn to wave good
night, because she was too afraid he wouldn't be waving back.
90
Chapter 9
THE HOUSE WAS
DARK inside and still smelled of her mother's late-night coffee.
Vanessa climbed the stairs. A spill of light from her mother's
bedroom covered the hall runner. She stopped at the door. Her mother
had fallen asleep reading, an empty coffee mug on the nightstand
beside her. She walked to the bed. The fragrance of her mother's hand
lotion and face creams filled the air. She wanted to curl against her
mother as she had when she was a little girl.
"Mom,"
she said softly. Her mother did not stir. She pressed her cheek
against her mother's and let it rest there a long while.
91
Finally, she
took the book, set it on the nightstand, switched off the light, and
went down the hallway to the bathroom. She turned the spigots. Hot
water rumbled into the tub. Then she caught her reflection in the
mirror. Dirt streaked her face, but it was something more that made
her stop and stare. Her eyes looked wide, haunted, different. The
pupils dilated, the lashes longer, darker. What was happening to her?
She bathed
quickly, put on PJ's from the hook on the bathroom door, and hurried
back to her bedroom. She started to turn on the light, but caution
made her stop. She crept to the window and closed the shutters
against the night, then switched on the small lamp on her desk. She
looked at her computer and scanned her room to see if anything looked
disturbed.
The door to her
bedroom stood open. The dark hallway loomed before her. She took
three quick steps across the room, shut the door, and locked it. When
was the last time she had done that? Even knowing her mother was down
the hallway did not comfort her now. Finally, she called Catty.
A sleepy voice
answered the phone.
92
"Can you
spend the night?"
"Now?
What's going on?" Catty mumbled, her voice still sluggish with
sleep. "What time is it?"
"I don't
know. Midnight maybe. Can you come?"
"Yeah, I
guess," she said. "How am I going to explain it to my
mother?"
"Your
mother never needs an explanation." Vanessa looked behind her.
Why did she feel so edgy?
"I don't
know," Catty hesitated.
"Take a
cab. I'll pay."
Vanessa waited
at the front window, impatiently watching cars drive past her house.
Finally headlights turned down the street, and an orange- yellow taxi
pulled up to the curb. Catty climbed from the
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