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  Nancy Lake and the Case of the First Date: A F.R.E.A.K.S. Short Story © 20113 by Jennifer Harlow

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  First e-book edition © 2013

  E-book ISBN: 9780738741086

  Edited by Nicole Nugent

  Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

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  Contents

  Nancy Lake and the Case of the First DAte

  Excerpt from Mind Over Monsters

  Excerpt from What’s A Witch To Do?

  –––––

  Also by Jennifer Harlow

  F.R.E.A.K.S. Series

  Mind Over Monsters (2011)

  To Catch a Vampire (2012)

  Death Takes a Holiday (2013)

  Midnight Magic Series

  What’s a Witch To Do? (2013)

  Werewolf Sings the Blues (2014)

  Nancy Lake and the Case of the First Date

  A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Short Story

  OMG! Monster hunts are freaking so boring!

  Oh wait, I forgot, they don’t want me actually hunting the monsters. No, I’m “too young” for anything fun. It’s, like, excuse me? Who here was an accomplished bank robber before she was thirteen? Who helped take down trolls on her first Op when she was fourteen? Not that schoolteacher everyone’s drooling over, that’s for sure. So she can, like, move stuff with her mind? Whoop-de-freaking-do. Bank robber totally trumps that.

  I so don’t know what Oliver sees in her. She’s not even that cute. And she’s a total troublemaker. Pitted Will against Oliver just for her ego or whatever. Like Will needed to be given a bigger reason to be grumpy all the time. Seriously, what it is? Is she, like, porn-capable in bed? She let Irie die, the bitch. If I’d been in that basement, Irie would be alive right now, I totally know it.

  No, not going there. It’d be mega-embarrassing if I started crying again in the middle of an Oklahoma mall—if it can even be called that. One floor, maybe two dozen shops, and not even a Starbucks. Why can’t a Pusher force people to kill and mutilate themselves somewhere less depressing and more fun? Like Vegas or Disney World? When George offered me a place in the F.R.E.A.K.S. I thought for sure I’d be like Alice in Resident Evil, running around with a gun or sword slicing zombies and vampires in exotic locations. Instead, I spend most of my time waiting in a hotel room watching TV or doing—ugh!—lab work. Maybe if I was more kick-ass, Oliver would take his eyes off Miss Mousy Crappy Hair and see I’m not a little kid, that I’m a capable, mature woman who—Oh! Comic book shop! Awesome sauce!

  The place is almost deserted, like the rest of the mall. Oh, so I love this part. When I step into the store, the three dudes all glimpse up in stunned silence, like Scarlett Johansson just walked in. Not many girls frequent comic stores, so I’m a rare flower to them or whatever. Bet Miss Mousy Crappy Hair wouldn’t get the same reaction though. I pretend not to notice, instead strutting toward the counter where a boy my age sits. He clocked me like the others but fakes reading. As I get closer I see he’s kind of cute—super thin with long dark hair covering most of his face along with rimless glasses. He actually, like, blushes as he looks up.

  “Um, c-can I help you?”

  “Yeah. Where are your Walking Deads?”

  He leaps off his stool. I follow him to the back of the cramped store. “Wh-which ones do you need?”

  “The last four. I’m, like, so behind. Got kind of bored with them.”

  “Af-after the Governor storyline?” the clerk asks.

  “Totally! I mean, how do you top a dictator rapist who, like, collects heads in TVs?”

  “A-are you watching the show?”

  “Of course. It’s good, but if they don’t bring in Michonne and The Governor soon, I am gonna be totally pissed.”

  “Th-They aren’t. The store had a booth at Comic-Con this year and—”

  My mouth drops open. “You went to Comic-Con? I am so jealous! Did you cos-play?”

  “Yeah,” the clerk says, blushing again. “I-I was Spike from Cowboy Be-Bop.”

  “OMG! He is, like, my favorite character in all of Manga! Okay, you are officially one of the coolest guys I have ever met in my life,” I say, meaning it. I chuckle, but the red clerk stares at me with his light brown eyes to see if I’m serious or not. Shy boys are so adorable.

  I think he realizes I’m being real and smiles. “I-I’m not. Cool.”

  “Um, you went to Comic-Con as Spike, you read The Walking Dead and you work in a comic book shop! I am totally shocked you haven’t spontaneously combusted with coolness.” The clerk smiles, as do I.

  OMG, I’m flirting, aren’t I? It’s been so freaking long I barely recognize it. He’s totally responding too. Blushing is a huge sign. “I’m Nancy.”

  “Elephant.”

  My nose scrunches up. “Really?”

  “Nickname. It’s really Logan. After Wolverine. My parents are fans.”

  “Then why Elephant? Because you’re tall?”

  “No, um … after John Merrick. The Elephant Man? We saw the movie in middle school and people just started calling me it.”

  “Yeah, people are douche bags.” I sip my soda. “Well, I’m calling you Logan. You look nothing like The Elephant Man, trust me. You—”

  “Nerd Alert!” a guy shouts from the front of the store. We all turn as a dude my age and his two buddies, one a girl in a mega-short skirt, stroll in. The boys are decent-looking with the same brown hair cut short, though one is more Abercrombie model complete with the clothes and the other resembles a preppy version of The Situation. The girl hangs off Abercrombie, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. The It Crowd. Only joy of being home schooled is I don’t have to deal with them on a daily basis.

  “Dude! Elephant! What up?”

  “Hi, Finn,” Logan says, eyes like glued to the floor now. “Caitlyn. Bryce.”

  The leader, Finn, throws his arm over Logan’s frail shoulders as if they’re BFFs, though the tension shows on Logan’s entire body and face. The others hang back a little, eyeing me. “How goes it, Elephant?” Finn looks at me. “Who’s this? Your girlfriend?”

  “If she is
there’s probably something wrong with her,” Bryce says. “Looks like a girl but probably has a dick or something.”

  “Then that makes one of us,” I spit back with a dewy smile. After years of being around homicidal vampires and zombies, standing up to a jock is nothing. Especially when he lives, like, on the opposite side of the state from me. I’ll probably never see this douche again. The others chuckle, but Bryce shoots me the evil eye, which I fire back.

  “I like her,” Finn says. “You should invite her to my party, Elephant.” Finn’s attention returns to me. “Having a get together tonight. You should come.”

  Logan stares down at the carpet, now almost purple from embarrassment. I bet if he could become invisible or teleport out of this store right now, he totally would. I so know the feeling. At least I have one of those options. Poor dude.

  But I’m in the saving-people game: time to suit up. I reach over and take Logan’s hand. His gaze jerks up in surprise. “Logan already invited me. We have plans, but we’ll totally try to make it. If we’re not, you know, too busy,” I say with a smile.

  Logan’s mouth drops open. The others are equally surprised, staring at me as if I’d just flown around the store like Tinker Bell.

  Finn is the first to recover. “You have to come. My brother’s getting us alcohol and other party favors. It’s gonna be a hell of a time. Legendary.”

  “We’ll try,” I say.

  The threesome exchanges a nervous glance before Finn releases Logan. “Awesome. See you both tonight. Guys?” He nods toward the door for his friends to follow him out. Like good dogs, they do.

  Logan pulls his hand away when they’re out of sight. “Y-You didn’t have to do that.”

  “What? Lie? It wasn’t difficult,” I say with a nervous smile. I totally feel my cheeks warming in a blush. Shoot! We match now. “Anyway, you want to go? It is, like, Friday night.”

  “You d-don’t have plans already?”

  “I’m not from here. My family’s here on business,” I say, giving the standard lie. “I was just gonna watch TV like a total loser. Party sounds more fun. Don’t get invited to many.”

  “Me either. So d-do you wa-wanna go? With me or whatever?”

  “Okay,” I say without hesitation. I giggle, then he giggles.

  “Um, I don’t get off work until nine.”

  “Okay. I’m staying at the Hampton Inn on Route 734.” I pull out a pen from my purse. “Here’s my cell number,” I say, scribbling it on his hand. “Say, nine thirty?”

  “Great! I’ll call you when I’m in front.”

  “Awesome! Okay … see you then!” I grin before rushing out of the store.

  OMG! OMG! I have a date! I have a date with a cute boy and was invited to a party by the cool kids! They’re kind of jerks but a party is a party.

  I love monster hunts.

  –––––

  To my not-so-great shock, everyone except Andrew is out fighting evil or whatever. Most of the time I hate being left behind almost as much as I hate looking at bio-material under a microscope for hours. Not tonight. Tonight I put on my new outfit—black mini-skirt, neon pink tights, off the shoulder pink and black striped shirt, and jewelry—curl my hair, and apply make-up FOR MY DATE! I am going on a date. My first ever. Seventeen and never been on a date. Never even been kissed. How totally sad is that?

  Irie always told me that I should wait for someone who made my stomach wiggle every time I laid eyes on him. I’ve felt that way about someone before. Still do. Ever since Oliver tweaked my nose when I met him four years ago, the wiggles began. Like, four years and it’s never wavered. That’s got to be love, right? I just need to be like Peeta. His love for Katniss kept them both alive and *SPOILER ALERT* he got her in the end. And for, like, a long time I thought this would work for me. I have less than a year before I turn eighteen, then there’d be nothing in our way. Until Miss Crappy Mousey Hair. We used to play video games, now he plays them with her. We used to go to movies, now he takes her. I lost both him and Irie because of her. Oh, she tries to make up for it, inviting me when they go out. Buying me things “just because it screamed you.” Guilty conscious much, Miss Alexander?

  My cell phone chirps, totally bringing a smile to my face. A text: Dwnstrs. Well if Oliver can do it, so can I. I grab my phone and purse before walking out of the room I’m currently sharing with Miss Crappy Mousey Hair herself. I considered leaving a note but it’s not like anyone really cares. They won’t even notice I’m gone. Besides, I have my cell. If they need me to, like, save the day, they can call.

  When the elevator door shuts, I sigh. With that ding I am suddenly, like, totally nervous. I’m going on a date. A real, live date with a totally awesome guy. But it’s fine. If it sucks, or he gets date-rapey, I’ll just, like, port away. I can’t see Logan doing any of that, though. I can’t see him killing a spider even if it was about to bite him. After living with a vampire and grumpy werewolf, sweet and vulnerable is like a breath of cookie-scented air.

  I’m still practically shaking though. I can totally face down a necromancer who raises armies of zombies, but a cute boy? No. I sigh. Now I wish Irie were here. She’d tell me I was being mental. That I’m a beautiful, funny, sweet girl any guy would be like lucky to go on a date with. Bea said the same thing once or twice too. And Oliver. But they were just being nice. Oh God, what if I say something stupid? What if he laughs at me? What if he doesn’t really like me? Ugh, this dating thing sucks already.

  The elevator door opens onto the lobby, and I step out. He has to be in the ancient Nova spewing exhaust. Not exactly a horse drawn carriage, but it’ll do the job. I pull my jacket tighter and rush to the car. Logan’s face contorts into happy shock as I open the door, upping his cute factor by, like, a zillion. As does his outfit choice: gray vest and red tie over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I was half expecting a Spiderman T-shirt.

  “Hi!” I say, climbing in.

  “Hi. Wow. You look … great.”

  “Thanks. You too.” Thank God it’s dark or he’d totally see me blushing. Bet he’s grateful for the same reason. We giggle nervously.

  “Oh, I, um,” he says, reaching into the backseat for a bag, “brought you something.”

  I take the bag. Inside are the four comic books I wanted. “OMG! You are so sweet! Thank you!” I lean across and kiss his cheek.

  “Yeah, well, um … you’re welcome.”

  “Seriously, this is, like, the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me. Ever.”

  “Oh.” He smiles nervously. “Sorry. Um … should we go?”

  “Yeah.”

  I put the comics back into the bag as we start moving. When I look up, my mouth drops open a little. Frak. My favorite persona and least favorite person are striding toward us from the parking lot, Bea laughing at something Oliver says. I don’t feel the butterflies as usual, instead dread fills the space. “Go,” I say. The lovebirds look straight at us, their smiles giving way to narrowed eyes. “Go now!”

  Logan accelerates past my confused squad members. “Who were those people?” he asks.

  “Just, um … it’s complicated.”

  “Oh.”

  And now I remember one of the real reasons I’ve never dated. How the Hell-o Kitty do I explain my life? That my parents are in prison for bank robberies I took part in? That my foster father is the head of a secret government organization that, like, fights monsters? That I fight monsters? That I can teleport? OMG, what have I gotten myself into?

  –––––

  We ride in silence for a minute or two as Mumford & Sons plays on the radio. They’re one of my favorite bands, which makes this totally worse. I keep liking this guy more and more. When he realizes I’m an actual freak, it’ll hurt. Like, a lot. I mean, I knows he’s into comic books and stuff but there is a difference between reading about people with pow
ers and kissing one. Irie told me a horror story about the one man she ever told about her gift. They dated for, like, months, and when she finally gave him a demo, he went postal. Called her all sorts of names. It traumatized her so much she didn’t date anyone for over a year until Agent Wolfe finally put the moves on her. At least she died in love.

  Logan keeps stealing nervous glances at me. “Are-are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “W-we don’t have to go to this party. If you don’t wanna.”

  “No, I do. I do. I’m just kind of nervous. I’ve just never been to this kind of party before.”

  “Me neither. I-I was actually kind of shocked Finn asked me. I wasn’t gonna go but …” Logan glances at me again and shrugs. We ride in silence for another couple seconds. “You-you’ve never really been to a party before?”

  “Really never. Why?” I ask with a nervous grin.

  “I don’t know. You’re so pretty and cool. It’s just surprising.”

  “Oh. Well, um, I’m homeschooled because we travel so much. I don’t hang with people my own age that much.”

  And everyone in Stoker, Oklahoma, totally thinks I live in a house for the disturbed—or at least that’s the cover story, which, like, nobody believes. The mansion’s been around for almost a century. Stories of us have been passed down to Stoker residents for generations. Whenever I go into town, I see the way they look at me: sideways and kinda scared. So yeah, not invited to their sleepovers or house parties that much.

  “You’re so lucky to be homeschooled. I hate school. It doesn’t offer many computer classes, everyone has known everyone since kindergarten so I’ve been a loser since then, it blows. And you get to travel? I’m so jealous.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not like we go to cool places like Chicago or Los Angeles that much. I mean, hello, where are we now? I mean, no offense.”

  “None taken. So, what do your parents do? Were those your parents at the hotel?”

  “No. God no. They just … work with us. No, they’re in sales.” I’ve told this lie a trillion times I’ve got it down. “Tractor parts.”