“Holy Whore, Kar Yee,” I complained. “Shut the hell up, would you?”

Too late. He was already moonstruck.

“What’s your knack?” he asked.

“Do you want me to tell you or show you?”

“Kar Yee!” I snapped.

“I was just teasing,” she said to me, then leaned closer to Jupe. “I can make people afraid.”

“Really?”

“Really. My knack increases anxiety.” Very effectively, in fact. Though it didn’t last long, she could scare the bejesus out of an entire room with a little bit of effort.

“I can make people do what I want,” Jupe blurted.

“Is that right?” Kar Yee said, as if he’d just told us he was an astronaut. “Aren’t you a little young to have a knack?”

“Yes, he is,” I said.

“I’m an early bloomer,” he argued.

Kar Yee smiled and poked a slender finger into his bony chest. “I like you, Jupiter. You’re tall, good-looking, and you make me laugh. When you’re older, give me a call.”

Jupe tore his cell out of his jeans pocket. “Why wait? What’s your home number?”

I reached over the bar and smacked him on the arm. “Don’t do it, Kar Yee. He’ll be texting you from school every half hour. Trust me.” Yesterday’s smorgasbord of texts from Jupe included three general requests about what I was doing, one urgent message begging me to help him cheat on his English test, and two musings about possible magick spells I should work on (i.e., supercharging his dog, Foxglove, so she could run faster). If I didn’t respond right away, he’d text twenty more times to ask if I’d gotten his original message. When I couldn’t reply with a proper answer, I’d somehow agreed to use Lon’s generic text reply: LUBIB. That was shorthand for “Love you but I’m busy.” Jupe said the “love you” part was his personal addition to Lon’s former canned response of BUSY, insisting that it detracted from the sting of being snubbed.

Before Kar Yee could debate whether it was a wise idea to give a teenage kid her digits, someone pounded on the door and Amanda’s shadowy face pressed against the window bars. Kar Yee sauntered away to let her inside.

“Whew! What a storm.” Amanda closed her umbrella and shook out her long, sun-drenched locks as Kar Yee locked the door behind her. “Oh, hey, Cady. I didn’t know you were working today.”

“I’m just dropping off fruit. Toni’s tending bar tonight. This is Lon’s son, by the way. Jupe, this is Amanda, our senior server.”

“Oh, I know who he is!” she said brightly. “You go to school with my cousin, Rosy. I’m from La Sirena, too. My parents own Three Dwarves Pottery Studio in the Village.” The Village was the tourist center of the small beach community, and Amanda’s family’s studio one of the busiest spots—less to do with their pottery skills and more because Amanda and her parents gossip like it’s an Olympic sport and they’re going for the gold.

“Rosy’s pretty cool,” Jupe confirmed casually, “and I know your parents’ place. Next to the crappy ice cream shop that serves freezer-burned Rocky Road.”

Amanda laughed. “Yeah, not my favorite either. Are you spending the weekend with Cady?”

“Lon’s out of town,” I answered. “Jupe’s staying with me tonight.”

He leaned against the bar, readying himself to charm girl number two. At least he didn’t seem traumatized by our run-in with Methbrain in the parking garage.

Amanda set a tinkling box on the bartop—new mummy mugs that her parents had designed for our two-day Halloween promo. Kar Yee came up with the bright idea to charge patrons twenty dollars for an exclusive holiday drink served in collectible mugs that customers could keep. If we could unload all three hundred mugs, we’d make a nice haul.

“So, huge news from La Sirena.” Amanda pried up the edge of the box tape with her fingernail. “Another kid went missing. Dustin Chapman—fifteen-year-old son of a wealthy broker.”

“What?” Jupe said. “I know that guy!”

Amanda’s brow furrowed. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

“I mean, kind of know him,” he admitted. “My dad knows his dad. He goes to private school. What happened?”

“His parents said he was taking out the garbage last night. When he didn’t come back in the house, they looked outside and found trash scattered all over the yard. Dustin was gone.” Amanda ripped the tape off the box with a violent pull. “There was blood on the driveway.”

“Blood?” Jupe squeaked.

“Yeah. So awful. He’s the second kid to go missing in La Sirena. You’ve heard what everyone’s saying?”

He nodded seriously. “The Snatcher.”

Kar Yee frowned. “Snatcher?”

“Some guy who kidnapped teens thirty years ago around Halloween,” Amanda explained. “He took seven kids in a couple of weeks. The day after Halloween—All Saints’ Day—their names were found carved into a circle of trees in Sandpiper Park—just outside the Village—down on the beach. The cops never uncovered who did it, and the kids were never seen again. No bodies ever found.”

“Is this a real crime, or just an urban legend?” I said. “It sounds made up.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Jupe assured me.