Imani sang “Viva Las Vegas.”
“Viva Las Headless,” Lark sang back.
Imani looked at the ceiling, letting out a witchy laugh, then struck the counter with her palms. “Yes, much better lyrics!”
Lark hovered over the box and sifted through—more junk. “Did Jimbo really buy this crap at auction, or did someone come to the store and sell it?”
Their boss regularly went to auctions to find things to resell or other items for his personal Native American spiritual stash at home. He was leaving again in two days for Las Vegas to explore several huge collections. Lark stared at the Elvis statue and thought, what a coincidence—being Vegas and all.
Other times, people came into the store and tried to sell away their weird goodies. Lark and Imani weren’t allowed to let the customers pawn stuff, though—only Jimbo could give an offer.
“No, these are things from his personal collection,” Imani replied, producing a small lamp with baby doll legs attached to the bottom, arms at the side, and a dusty lampshade as the head. “I think I may have to purchase this one for myself.”
“Not if I buy it first.” Lark reached out to grab the prize.
“Too bad—I already claimed it.” Imani held it up to the light like a trophy. “This is a hundred times better than the lamp in A Christmas Story.”
Lark would have to agree, and she’d have actually bought it too. Anything with baby doll parts could spice up a room.
“But, don’t worry,” Imani continued. “I didn’t leave you empty-handed.” She pushed two paperbacks in front of Lark. “Jimbo was getting rid of a few books.”
Lark picked them up and read the titles, one on paranormal activity and the other a way to get rid of ghosts. “Thanks!” She liked reading about anything different, so she shoved them in her backpack.
To take up time, Lark and Imani dusted off the shelves and found places to put Jimbo’s home decorations out for sale. Only four customers deigned to pay them a visit, each one more unusual than the last. But no sight of the creep in black.
By the end of the day, Lark wasn’t ready to go home, though she couldn’t avoid it. After collecting her things, she turned to Imani who was babying her new lamp. “Don’t forget to pick out a miracle remedy from the wall.”
“Hmm.” Imani tapped her chin, browsing the selection on the plastic shelves.
“Wipe away skin?” Lark suggested.
“I think they mean dead skin cells. I’m not sure I want to put this on my skin, though.” Imani placed the blue bottle back. Smart choice.
Scrunching up her nose, Lark pored over the other bottles: Hair Grower, Love Potion, Stain Remover, and several other ridiculous “potions.”
“What about this mystery beautifying hair shampoo?” Lark asked, tapping the lid with her middle finger.
“I have to watch what I put on my hair, and I don’t think anyone should use it unless maybe on a doll’s hair.” Imani twiddled her fingers in the air. “I think I’m going to go with… this one.” She grabbed a pink bottle that read, Bubbles.
“For your sister?”
“Yeah, she still hasn’t forgiven me for bringing her toys to test out up here, even though I bought her more.” Imani unzipped the alligator’s mouth of her scaly green purse and stuffed the bottle inside.
They turned everything off and locked up the store. “It’s bogus I won’t see you here anymore,” Lark groaned.
“Don’t you worry, we have all summer to hang out, little lady.” She wiggled her finger at Lark. “Maybe we’ll have a costume party.”
With the huge bag of clothes in one hand and the new vinyl in the other, Lark puckered her lips. Imani walked away laughing, leaving Lark to face her bike. It only took her a second to realize she hadn’t thought about carrying everything while biking. Huffing and puffing, she managed to prop the trash bag as best she could in between the handlebars.
While focusing on the bag, a sound filled the air. Music notes. She jerked her head over her shoulder, scanning thoroughly yet seeing no one, only hearing the flute. The notes pulled together into a stream as “Space Oddity” formed like it had before, almost melancholic with a deep sadness she could feel under her skin. “Not this again,” she whispered.
As she twisted back around, something forcefully struck her shoulder, triggering a small zap against her arm that caused her heart to gallop. The contact was strong enough to push her backward, the bag tumbling off the handlebars to the ground with a crinkly thump.
“Dammit.” Lark rubbed her arm and looked up to see the same guy dressed all in black from earlier, speed walking in the direction of the music. He didn’t look behind him, just continued his long strides as he carried the same bulky, cloaked object in his hands. “Thanks for that,” she mumbled to his back.
As if he heard her clear as day, the creep came to a stop and glanced back. Lark’s heart pounded in her chest. Her shaking hands sank to her backpack and partially unzipped it to retrieve her knife.
But as she lifted her eyes back to the guy, he was gone. Another quick exit. Farther down the road, another hazy glow caught her attention. She rubbed her eyes, and it vanished. And so had the music.
She gripped her chest, her breath coming out in uneven spurts. A door banged open, and she jumped, her attention shooting up ahead. “What the hell!”
Auden’s tall, lanky frame darkened the doorway to the music store. His hazel eyes fell to the bag on the ground as he came closer, while Lark had her feet planted on either side of the bike.
“Drop something?” Auden asked.
“Yeah. Did you—never mind.” She didn’t want to quiz him about people vanishing or mysterious music, not when he’d already asked her if she was going to a costume party.
Auden reached down and picked up the heavy bag, then set it in between the handlebars. “Be careful with the bag. Wouldn’t want you to get in a wreck.”
“Yeah.” She let the bag lean against her chest and avoided eye contact.
“I see you’re back in your usual,” Auden said, staring at her jacket.
“Yeah,” she grumbled.
“Shame.” He grinned, showcasing a few crooked bottom teeth before turning to head back into the music store.
What the hell did that mean?
* * *
Auden went back inside Music Revelations and peered down at his watch. He had about an hour left before he could close up the joint.
He'd gone outside to meet his friend Darrin, but instead, he’d come into contact with Hell on Wheels. A lovely hell he didn’t know if he wanted to encounter again—or did he? Lark Espinoza wasn’t the typical girl he went for, but that didn’t mean she was any less worthy. She was just different.
Lark had taken him by surprise when she’d strolled into the store with her lithe body on display. He’d known she would come in today, as she did every Wednesday, but she probably hadn’t caught him side-eying her the entire time. He was good at staying under the radar, pretending nonchalance.
The door opened and Auden’s gaze drifted to the store’s new guest.
“There’s my man,” his best friend Darrin yelled, tracking dried mud into the store as he carried in his prized skateboard. The store owner, Jacee, would be pissed, but that wasn’t his problem.