Pretty Little Devils Part 8

"Um...there's one other issue," Megan broke in. "Do you like scary movies? Because they're kind of our thing."

"We started out renting them when we babysat. Now we play them at all our parties. It helps everyone...get a little closer," Sylvia explained.

"Oh. Sure," Hazel replied. "I'm totally obsessed with all the Friday the 13th movies. They're cheesy, but I love them."

"Yeah," Carolyn added, "the night we rented Halloween, like, six people paired up. That's when we knew we were on to something."

Hazel nodded. "I guess everyone likes being terrorized."

"Oh, you won't when you meet the Darling twins." Sylvia laughed. "You need to be there at seven. Sharp."

PERSONALBLOG.

HAPPY 2BME.

HAZE'S GOT DARLING DUTY 2NITE. SHE'S IN FOR THE FRIGHT OF HER LIFE. POOR HAZEL. SO SWEET, BUT IT'S ALL GOING TO GO SOUR. COME OUT, COME OUT, HZL. IT'S TIME TO PLAY.

Avenida Escondida-Hidden Avenue-divided Brookhaven into two sections, east and west. The west side of town was the ritzy part. The Darlings lived on a hill overlooking the ritzy part. Meaning they were even richer than the rich people.

Their house was a mansion. The floors were hardwood, and all the furniture was cutting-edge modern: everything was done in bold, bright, jarring colors. There were paintings on the walls that were taller than Hazel, all of them abstract-people with blank cube faces or swirly, desolate landscapes.... They creeped her out.

If Hazel was honest, the entire house creeped her out. The twins lived there with their mother, who was divorced, but the place was too big for just three people. It had an empty, isolated feeling. When Hazel walked on the wooden floors, her footsteps echoed hollowly back to her.

The front of the house was nothing but gla.s.s, and tonight fog had crept up the hill, slithering over the vast, manicured lawn.

A scene right out of one of the PLDs' horror movies, Hazel thought.

As soon as Hazel arrived, the twins had told her how much they loved playing "ghost in the graveyard," a game that required turning out all the lights in the house and then searching for each other in the dark.

Hazel was hiding, crouched behind the home entertainment system, nearly pressed up against the wall of gla.s.s. While she waited to be discovered, she watched the swirling fog and concentrated on keeping perfectly still.

"Where are you?" Katie Darling called in a spooky voice. Her flashlight moved across the window. Hazel watched as the silhouette of a gnarled tree caught in Katie's light. It waved in the wind like a skeletal hand-its bony fingers reaching out for her.

The light moved away and Hazel's hiding spot fell back into shadow. She sighed. Should she make it easier for them to find her? At least then the game would be over.

She glanced at her watch. It was only eight, and she was dragging. Nine was the twins' official bedtime. She had tried to get them to put on their pajamas and brush their teeth, but they'd refused. That was when all the lights-out games started. It seemed like everything they wanted to do was in the dark.

Pain shot through Hazel's calf. Her muscles were beginning to cramp, and she was getting sleepy.

That's it. Time to call it quits.

"Katie?" Hazel called softly. "Chrissie?"

There was no answer. No sound at all.

Gingerly she rose, half expecting one or both of them to jump out and spook her. She tiptoed through the cavern of a living room toward the hall that led into their bedroom.

She hesitated, then fumbled for the hall light. She heard a noise and moved her hand a little faster, searching for the switch.

A footstep sounded at the other end of the hall.

"Okay, I know where you are," she announced.

She found the switch and flicked it on. She glimpsed one of the small, dark-haired girls, standing in a white nightgown in front of a closed door.

Click. The hall light flicked out again.

"You guys," she said, trying to sound bored. "Stop playing with the light switches."

The girl at the end of the hall turned on a flashlight beneath her chin so that her features were illuminated from below. Her mouth hung slack and her eyes were glazed.

"I'm dead," she murmured.

There was a swis.h.i.+ng sound behind Hazel.

She turned to find the other twin in the same pose, her face slack, in the middle of the living room. "I'm dead," she repeated. "I'm a ghost."

The girls shambled slowly toward Hazel, looking for all the world like clones of that evil spirit from The Ring. Cold, relentless, evil.

Hazel had no idea why it freaked her out. She fought to keep from becoming unnerved.

"Girls, it's time to get your ghost selves into bed," she said bravely. She turned the light back on. Immediately, it clicked off again.

"I'm dead," one of the twins moaned. "I'm dead and I'm coming for you."

"Oh yeah?" Hazel challenged. She headed toward her, taking bold, long strides. She was halfway down the hall when the girl shone her flashlight in Hazel's eyes and then flicked it off, leaving her seeing spots.

When Hazel reached the end of the hall, the twin was gone.

"I'm dead," she moaned from the living room. "You killed me."

Hazel followed the voice.

"Katie, Chrissie, this isn't funny," she called.

Then she looked toward the wall of gla.s.s and caught her breath.

A tall, hooded figure stood outside the house.

Hazel stared at the silent figure. Slowly, slowly, it lifted its head.

It raised its hand and pointed at Hazel.

She shrieked. The person was wearing a hockey mask, and he was carrying a long, silver knife.

"Chrissie! Katie!" Hazel screamed. "Come to me! Now!"

Behind her, voices chorused, "Surprise!" as all the lights blazed on.

Hazel whirled around. Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen were standing in the doorway with the Darling twins. Megan was doubled over with laughter. Carolyn applauded as the twins took bows.

Hazel struggled to catch her breath. Ellen came to her and threw her arms around her. "Aw, it's all right. It's a prank, Haze! Just a prank."

Megan clapped. "We got you good!"

The front door opened. Sylvia came across the threshold, the hood of her sweats.h.i.+rt thrown back, the hockey mask in her hand.

She rushed toward Hazel, her arms open.

"Ah, ma pet.i.te!" she said, kissing her cheek with a noisy smack.

She wiggled the knife. The blade wobbled, clearly a prop.

"Friday the 13th." Sylvia winked. "Your favorite."

Hazel laughed, embarra.s.sed and weak from relief. "You guys! That was twisted. I was really scared!"

"Then our work here is done," Megan said, high-fiving Carolyn.

Sylvia handed Ellen the mask. She let go of Hazel and went to the twins, bending over and tousling their hair. "Hey, monsters. Good job." She looked over her shoulder at Hazel. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oscars are in their future," Hazel affirmed.

Katie and Chrissie lifted their chins proudly.

"You two are just awful," Sylvia said affectionately.

"We're dead," one of them said.

"Were they giving you a hard time?" Sylvia asked.

"Oh no," Hazel managed, flas.h.i.+ng Sylvia a weak smile. "Aside from the whole 'scare the babysitter into a coma' project, everything's been fine."

Sylvia chuckled and took Hazel's arm. "Note to self? You suck at lying. C'mon. We'll make you something to take the sting out of sitting these little monsters."

"We are not monsters!" one of them insisted as they trailed after Sylvia. "We're dead!"

The seven of them walked into the kitchen, which was a small city of brushed stainless steel. Sylvia opened the freezer, fished around inside, and brought out a bottle. Grey Goose vodka.

"Grab some martini gla.s.ses, won't you?" she asked Hazel. She pointed to a cabinet s.h.i.+mmering with gla.s.sware. "In there."

Hazel took a moment, then selected a large Y-shaped gla.s.s and held it up for Sylvia's inspection. Sylvia laughed. "Wow! You must be thirsty. We need five. Katie, get the vermouth. Chrissie, get the olives."

Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen took seats at the slate table in the breakfast nook. Hazel followed.

Sylvia poured vodka nearly to the rim of each gla.s.s. Seeing Hazel's surprise, she chuckled and splashed in a little more. "Relax. It's fine."

The girls returned with another bottle and the olives. Sylvia finished making the drinks and pa.s.sed them around. Hazel was about to take a sip when Sylvia held her gla.s.s aloft.

"To Haze, everyone! A good sport and a great victim. Ellen? The traditional PLD toast?"

Ellen smirked. "To d.a.m.nation!" she said in a clear, ringing voice.

"To d.a.m.nation!" the others echoed. They clinked gla.s.ses.

Then Sylvia turned to Katie and Chrissie. "Okay, I'm throwing you in bed. Hazel, take a load off. The cavalry, she is here."

Hazel smiled gratefully but didn't want Sylvia to think she couldn't handle her first job. "It's okay," she told Sylvia. "I want to do it."

"About the bad lying?" Sylvia scolded. "You haven't gotten any better in the last thirty seconds."

The other PLDs giggled. Sylvia carried her drink as she herded the two girls toward their bedroom.

"Teeth and faces." Sylvia's voice trailed down the hall.

"We can't brush our teeth," Katie announced. "We're dead."

"You'll wish you were dead if you don't brush them, mes pet.i.tes. Now, come on. You don't want to make Sylvia mad, do you?"

Chrissie and Katie squealed as if equal parts thrilled and terrified by the idea. Hazel sipped her drink-Yow! It's all vodka! She listened to the rus.h.i.+ng water and the girls giggling in the bathroom.

"Told you you'd need the squeezy brain," Megan teased.

"You were right." Hazel took another, tinier sip. "I just didn't realize how right you were."

"I'm sorry if we scared you, Haze. It was kind of mean," Ellen apologized.

"Dude, don't be such a wuss," Megan said. "It was a good prank."

"We started pranking in middle school," Carolyn explained. "Around the same time we got into horror movies. You know, long nights sitting, nothing to do but watch TV or do homework.... I think Sylvia did the first one."

"On me," Ellen said. "She started knocking on all the windows."

"We used to have seances, too," Megan said. "Remember that? They were kind of dorky, but we believed in them."

"I never did," Ellen insisted.

"Yeah, right." Carolyn snorted. "You used to cry."

Ellen frowned, embarra.s.sed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. "I gotta go," she announced. "My dad..." She made a fist and breathed into it. "Who's got the breath mints?"