Banishing the Dark (Arcadia Bell #4)(28)

He was probably right. I just wished I knew whether Rooke would see me as friend or foe now that I knew the truth about my parents. He had to be in his seventies by now, which meant he knew a hell of a lot more about E∴E∴ politics than I did. And that made me both nervous and curious. Mostly nervous.

Lon’s fingers curved around the back of my neck, as though I were a wilting tomato bush needing a support stake. “Let me call Jupe,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll tell him we’ll be driving to Pasadena later tonight.”

Jupe stepped off the Morella city bus and squinted into the morning sun, trying to get his bearings. This wasn’t the nicest neighborhood. Lots of warehouses and trashy cars lining the curbs and a bunch of old, ratty houses at the bottom of the hill. Not exactly the kind of place he’d imagined when he pictured Cady’s occult order. Then again, she never really talked about it. Guess it brought back a lot of bad memories.

He checked his phone. Crap. It was already eleven. It took him half an hour to walk from his junior high to the Village, then another two hours on the bus. Ditching school was a lot of work, and things only got harder once he made it to the city. Mission Station—where the La Sirena bus dropped him off in Morella—was crowded with weirdos and smelled like sweaty balls. And deciphering the Metro schedule was beyond ridiculous. If it weren’t for the lady at the information kiosk, he might be in Reno by now.

Kar Yee was right: public transportation sucked, big-time.

On top of all that, his dad had called in the middle of all this, forcing Jupe to lie: no, that wasn’t a car engine, it was, uh, the school janitor polishing the floors. So lame, but it was all he could think of in the moment. At least his dad’s knack didn’t work over the telephone.

He surveyed nearby warehouses for a street address while he waited for the GPS on his phone to show him which way to walk. Looked like he was three blocks away—not too far, thank God. His feet hurt, and it was chilly. He flipped up the collar of his jacket and followed the arrow on his phone.

The GPS pointed him to a run-down building next to a pest-control company. Two straggly palm trees flanked the main door, where a silver hexagram was painted. Surely this wasn’t the Bull and Scorpion Lodge—the name listed on the website for the local chapter. Jupe had envisioned a spooky-looking temple. Maybe some flashy occult artwork of a bull fighting a giant magical scorpion, Clash of the Titans style. But this place looked like it existed just to provide homeless people with shelter from the wind.

The front door opened, and a Hispanic girl about his age stepped onto the covered stoop. She was dressed in jeans and a pink hoodie, and her dark brown hair was twisted into two messy buns on either side of her head. When she saw him, she stilled. Big brown eyes blinked at him over the apple she was eating.

“Hi,” Jupe said.

She disengaged her teeth from the apple and wiped her mouth on her hoodie sleeve. “Hi.”

“Is this the Bull and Scorpion?”

She blinked again and gave a suspicious glance up and down the sidewalk. “Yeah.”

“You should have a sign.”

“We don’t need one. This isn’t a grocery store. We don’t need to attract customers.”

Kind of snotty, jeez. Jupe was ready to fire back with something just as smart-ass, but his gaze dropped to her boobs, and he got a little discombobulated. Half the girls in his class were flat-chested. This girl . . . was not. She was a little bit round everywhere, now that he was looking closer. Not fat, exactly. Just sort of cushiony. Folded arms suddenly blocked his view. He glanced back up at her face. Uh-oh. She wasn’t happy.

“What do you want?”

At that moment, Jupe had no freaking idea. It felt like someone had scooped out his brain and replaced it with marshmallows. He tried to smile. A lot of girls at school would get all weird and spacey when he smiled at them. Unfortunately, this girl did not. He cleared his throat. “I’m Jupiter—Jupe. Uh, you can call me Jupe, I mean. My last name’s Butler.”

“Do you go to St. Pius?”

“Church?”

“Private school.”

“I go to La Sirena Junior High.”

One dark brow arched. “What are you doing out here in Morella, then? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I am in school. My mom brought me here during lunch to help with some stuff.” She gestured with the apple toward some unspecific place down the street. “I go to Pacific Bay.”

Jupe shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a middle school two blocks from here. My mom teaches drama.”

“I’m in eighth grade,” Jupe said stupidly.

She blinked a few more times and uncrossed her arms. “Me, too.”

“What’s your name?”

She opened her mouth to answer but seemed to change her mind. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because it’s polite to ask?” God. What was her problem? “Or don’t tell me. I don’t care. I didn’t ditch school to shoot the shit. I’m here to get some information.”

“You ditched school to come here?”

“That’s none of your business.” Ugh. Now she was making him cranky. He waved her to the side. “If you’ll please move, Miss No-Name. I have important business.”