Janet Evanovich: Wicked Appetite

“There was more?”

“If I really concentrated, I could bend a spoon just by looking at it.”

“Jeez.”

“I know it’s a parlor trick, but I really enjoyed it. The cookies I can manage, because I can still make decent cookies, but I feel bad about losing the spoon bending.” Some of the color returned to Clara’s cheeks. “It was great at a dinner party. All of a sudden, someone’s spoon would curl up, and everyone would freak out.”

“No one knew it was you?”

“Some might have suspected. It was known that the Dazzles weren’t all normal. Mostly, there were all sorts of wrong rumors about our abilities. Like flying and casting spells. The truth is, most Unmentionable abilities are pretty mundane.”

I plucked one of the misshapen cupcakes out of the pan. “I never knew I had help making cupcakes. I just always figured I was really good at it. A natural ability.”

“You were right about the natural ability,” Clara said.

“So how did I lose it?”

“I suppose you lost it the same way I did. You had sex with another Unmentionable. Did you sleep with Diesel last night?”

“No. I haven’t slept with Diesel at all. At least, not that way.”

Clara bit into her lower lip. “Wulf?” she whispered.

“Not that I remember.”

“That’s not a definite no.”

I put my hand to the island to steady myself. “I was unconscious for some of the time.”

Clara fanned me with a kitchen towel. “You don’t look good.”

I slid down the side of the island and sat hard on the floor, legs out. “I don’t feel good.”

“Is there any other possibility?”

“Hatchet.”

I leaned forward, head between my knees, took a bunch of deep breaths, and tried to wrap my mind around the horrible possibilities. “The thing is, I can’t imagine either of them doing it.”

“You don’t think they’re capable?”

“I think they’re both capable… just not under these circumstances. Hatchet is impulsive, but I can’t see him messing with a woman he thought belonged to his liege. And Wulf wants me to find the fourth charm.”

Clara pulled me to my feet, and we looked at the cupcakes.

“Cupcakes don’t lie,” Clara said.

My emotions were mixed. The thought that I might have been violated while I was unconscious made my stomach sick. The possibility that I might have lost my Unmentionableness (if in fact I ever possessed it) wasn’t completely disappointing. The scary people would leave me alone, and I could return to a normal life of mortgage payments and cupcake making. Okay, so maybe my cupcakes wouldn’t be spectacular, but I could learn to make them perfectly enjoyable. I mean, anyone can learn to make a cupcake, right?

“Are there any telltale signs of… you know?” Clara asked. “Is your underwear on backwards?”

I checked around. Everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be.

“I’m going to make another batch of cupcakes,” I told her. “And I’m going to follow the recipe and concentrate.”

Diesel strolled into the shop at noon and stood in front of the pastry case.

“You must have had a run on cupcakes,” he said. “There are no cupcakes here.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “I want a double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.”

I traded my chef coat for my sweatshirt, hung my purse on my shoulder, and avoided looking at the trash bag that held a little over two hundred cupcakes not fit for sale.

“You’re either pissed off or celebrating,” Diesel said. “I can’t tell which.”

I swished past him, out the door to the turbo. “Exactly.”

Carl was crammed into the miniature backseat. He peeked out at me and gave me a finger wave.

“Your dad rolled out around ten,” Diesel said. “Cat was looking like he needed some alone time, so I brought Carl with me.”

“He just fits in the backseat.”

“Yeah. It’s monkey-size. You want to tell me about your day so far? I’m not getting a clear signal.”

“I can’t make cupcakes.”

“And?”

“No matter what recipe I use, the cupcakes are awful.”

“Honey, it’s not the end of civilization.”

“I thought you would be upset.”

“Guess I’m not in a cupcake mood. I thought the cheeseburger sounded like a good idea.”

“Cheee,” Carl said from the backseat.

“What about my Unmentionableness? You said I made Unmentionable cupcakes.”

Diesel rolled the engine over. “I don’t know how to break this to you, but not everything I say is true.” He glanced over at me, his expression unreadable. “Is there anything more you want to tell me about you and Wulf?”

“I was unconscious for some of the time, and when my cupcakes flopped, I got worried that Wulf might have used the opportunity to unempower me.”

“Wulf won’t unempower you until he’s in possession of the SALIGIA Stones. If Hatchet gets run over by a truck, you’re the only one who can identify the Stones. And until Wulf has the Stones, he won’t chance being reduced to a Normal.” Diesel grinned at me. “Anyway, you can count on me to save you from Wulf. The minute I think you’re really in danger of getting unempowered, I’ll make the sacrifice and do the unempowering myself.”

“Gee, thanks.”

A half mile later, Diesel swung into a drive-through and ordered burgers and fries.

“This is a new car,” I said to Carl, handing him his bag of food. “Be careful. I don’t want to see any crumbs or ketchup stains back there.”

“Eee,” Carl said, taking the bag.

I ate my double cheeseburger and sucked up some milkshake. I checked Carl out in the rearview mirror and saw that he was eating his fries one at a time, working at being neat. I nibbled at a single fry from my own bag and inadvertently sighed.

“There’s something going on in your head,” Diesel said. “I can feel anxiety leaking out of your ears.”

“I can’t stop thinking about the cupcakes. What if you’re wrong, and they really were part of my Unmentionableness? What if something did happen when I was unconscious?”

“You’d still be the same person,” Diesel said. “Being Normal or Unmentionable doesn’t change who you are.”

“It isn’t that. I don’t care that I might not be an Unmentionable anymore. I never wanted to be one in the first place. It’s the way I might have lost it. There’s another possibility besides Wulf.” I squinched my eyes closed. “It’s so awful I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Hatchet?” Diesel asked.

I nodded my head yes.

Carl tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to look at him, and he burped in my face.

“Yuk,” I said to Carl. “That was gross.”

“Eep.”

“He’s drooling,” I said to Diesel. “Have you ever known him to drool?”

“Gorp,” Carl said. And he threw up burgers and fries and chocolate shake all over the backseat.

Diesel grimaced and rolled his window down. “I totally screwed up my karma. I don’t know what I did, but it must have been bad, because now I have this monkey.”

“You made him carsick. It’s your driving in this car. You rocket around corners, and zoom off from stop lights, and then you stop short.”

“Yeah. It’s fun.”

Diesel turned a corner and parked at the curb in front of Melody’s house. He got out of the car and called Gwen.

“I need a new car,” he said. “Immediately. And whoever picks this one up needs a hazmat suit.”

One of the kids was already looking at us from the front door. “Help!” the kid yelled.

“What’s with these kids?” I said to Diesel. “It’s like they’ve watched too many Home Alone movies. And I don’t know Kevin from Melvin.”