Free Jillian Cade by Jen Klein

key in my ignition.
    Sky was already there w hen I arrived at the benches on the south end of Lake Balboa. As I plopped down beside him, two big white ducks in the water changed course and headed toward us. They didn’t come on land but paddled right by the concrete edge, eyeing us hopefully. I hadn’t brought any bread along, but I wasn’t surprised to see them. I’d pretty much chosen this spot for the same reason I’d chosen the bench at school: there was a lot of bird poop around, in this case, duck poop; the benches tended to be unoccupied.
    Sky swiveled so that his knee grazed my leg. “Did you find something out?” he asked. “Something succubus related?”
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œA clue about where Todd might be?”
    â€œMore like a clue about where he’s not . He’s definitely not camping.”
    Sky frowned. “Then why are we here? You don’t buy the succubus theory, and you’ve been trying to get rid of me all day. Why the sudden change of heart? What do you want?”
    I moved back a little. “Look, I don’t have to believe in the existence of succubi to know something weird is going on with Todd Harmon. Also, although it pains me to say it, I acknowledge that you have a desire to help. And although you may say ‘succubus’ and I may say ‘sorority girl,’ at the end of the day, we’re both trying to find the last person to lay eyes on Todd.”
    His green eyes sparkled. “So you want to work together after all?”
    I held a finger up in front of his face. “Under one condition.” I gave him a stern look. “If we are going to do that, I have to trust you. I have to know why you want to help. I have to know that you are being honest with me. So prove it.”
    â€œProve what?”
    â€œThat you really believe in this succubus stuff. That you’re not just messing with me. Go on. Tell me what you know—or think you know.”
    Sky looked at me as if I were the crazy one. “It’s all from your dad. I was being serious when I told you that, Jillian.”
    My shoulders sagged. “Right. You’re an expert on the famous Dr. Cade.”
    â€œI stumbled across a lecture on YouTube, and then I couldn’t stop watching him. His bit on Zoroastrian eschatology was spot-on. His interpretation of the Vendidad was amazing. Once I heard what he had to say, I wanted to find out more. I wanted to know everything.”
    I nodded, hating that Sky bought into Dad’s lies and yet also feeling relieved. If Sky had done this much homework, it was harder to believe that this was all one big practical joke with me as the punch line. Of course, it didn’t explain why he seemed so interested in me.
    â€œI also get why you’re not into this stuff,” he added. “There’s so much bullshit out there.”
    â€œA lot of it perpetrated by my own family,” I reminded him. “My dad included, Sky. You know that, right?”
    â€œRight. Your father capitalized on superstition, and now you’re doing the same thing.”
    â€œOnly to keep Umbra afloat,” I shot back.
    â€œI’m not judging,” said Sky. “Sometimes we all do things because the end justifies the means, but here’s my point: not everything paranormal is bullshit. Not everything supernatural is false. Some of it is real; some of it is true. Your father would agree with me.”
    â€œBut that’s where you’re wrong,” I told him. “My father is a con artist. He doesn’t buy any of it. The only thing he believes in is the utter stupidity of the people who swallow that paranormal crap.”
    Sky shook his head. “It’s like Santa Claus. Your dad knows there’s no jolly man in a red suit sneaking into kids’ houses at night to give them presents. But he also knows that the story of Saint Nicholas came from somewhere, that it was based on