familiar voice.
Pretty gasped as she stared at the rotting face of Horatio Snickering III. She made her face go slack. “Yes, master,” she said. “Me obeying master.”
He shook his head, tsk-tsking at her. “Naughty, naughty, Miss Pretty. I know you’re not under my command any longer.”
“Grrr,” Pretty growled, abandoning her pretense as she trundled forward, preparing to make another scene.
“In my disguise as a firefighter, I have been observing your fine rescue attempt…and I have duly noted that your little friend Scary has changed himself into several things, including that ladder. Scary is a very clever shape-shifting phantom, but even he can’t be a ladder
and
an extremely irritating undead boy at the same time.Therefore, I also know that Freekin is not in a Terror-Induced Coma, as you assured me he was.”
Pretty clacked her fangs and gave Lilly’s purse the tiniest little gnaw. Oooooh, if she could get ahold of him, she would shred him!
“You thinking you so smarty-pants,” she sneered at him. “Freekin hears you! Freekin knows you making more Curiosity! Him knows Henrietta Snickering is bad lady! Him knows everything!”
“Oh, really?” Horatio Snickering replied, raising a brow. “Well, thank you for letting
me
know that.”
Oops. Pretty had a feeling she had just said way too much.
“Think of it, Miss Pretty,” he continued. “If you had not tried to summon a boy monster from the Underworld, I would not have been able to cross back over. This is all your doing. You and you alone deserve the credit—or is it the blame?—for my victory over Snickering Willows! Ha ha ha!” He laughed. “Soon I’ll have all the Curiosity I will ever need!”
“Grrr.” Smoke rose from the top of her head.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he cautioned, pointing to Lilly. “You wouldn’t want to hurt this young lady, would you?”
Pretty didn’t answer that. Once upon a time, she might have even said yes. After all, she was the yuckyhuman girl who had stolen Freekin’s heart right from under Pretty’s seven eyes. Pretty might even have fried her to get to Horatio Snickering III. But life in the Land of the Living had changed her. Mellowed her. Made her less monsterish.
“I can see that we need to be rid of Franklin once and for all before we proceed,” Horatio Snickering went on. “Tell him to come to the fermented fat factory alone within the hour, or he will never see Lilly Weezbrock alive again.”
He snapped his fingers.
With an ear-piercing squeal of brakes, his black limousine screeched into the chaotic courtyard. Horatio Snickering carried Lilly over to it. The back door swung open; Henrietta’s skeleton-thin hands covered with enormous jeweled rings grabbed Lilly as Horatio practically threw her inside like a sack of Ultra Top Secret Ingredients. Then Mortadella the dog popped her scrawny little puff-topped head through the door.
“Grrr-arf!”
Mortadella’s beady eyes gleamed with canine malice.
“Bad doggie!” Pretty took a step toward the limousine.
“Careful, Miss Pretty,” Horatio Snickering warned her. “We don’t want anything to happen to Miss Weezbrock. Give Freekin my message. One hour.”
He climbed backward into the limo. “Viggo, step on it,” he ordered as he slammed the door.
The limo’s wheels squealed like banshees as it circled and barreled between two fire trucks, narrowly missing two firefighters who were carrying a long hose. The vehicle raced out of the courtyard and flew down the street.
“No!” Pretty cried. “Bad, bad, bad!” She scooted around in a circle, then dizzily wobbled back to Scary as Deirdre, Molly, and Janeece all dropped to the ground from his sturdy little rungs and ran toward the hole in the wall. “Scary,
wazeelili
!” she screamed, waving her arms.
“Zibu!”
Scary replied. Still ladder-shaped, he scooped up Pretty and hoisted her in the air. Slinging Lilly’s purse over her shoulder, she scrabbled up his rungs in record
Pretty gasped as she stared at the rotting face of Horatio Snickering III. She made her face go slack. “Yes, master,” she said. “Me obeying master.”
He shook his head, tsk-tsking at her. “Naughty, naughty, Miss Pretty. I know you’re not under my command any longer.”
“Grrr,” Pretty growled, abandoning her pretense as she trundled forward, preparing to make another scene.
“In my disguise as a firefighter, I have been observing your fine rescue attempt…and I have duly noted that your little friend Scary has changed himself into several things, including that ladder. Scary is a very clever shape-shifting phantom, but even he can’t be a ladder
and
an extremely irritating undead boy at the same time.Therefore, I also know that Freekin is not in a Terror-Induced Coma, as you assured me he was.”
Pretty clacked her fangs and gave Lilly’s purse the tiniest little gnaw. Oooooh, if she could get ahold of him, she would shred him!
“You thinking you so smarty-pants,” she sneered at him. “Freekin hears you! Freekin knows you making more Curiosity! Him knows Henrietta Snickering is bad lady! Him knows everything!”
“Oh, really?” Horatio Snickering replied, raising a brow. “Well, thank you for letting
me
know that.”
Oops. Pretty had a feeling she had just said way too much.
“Think of it, Miss Pretty,” he continued. “If you had not tried to summon a boy monster from the Underworld, I would not have been able to cross back over. This is all your doing. You and you alone deserve the credit—or is it the blame?—for my victory over Snickering Willows! Ha ha ha!” He laughed. “Soon I’ll have all the Curiosity I will ever need!”
“Grrr.” Smoke rose from the top of her head.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he cautioned, pointing to Lilly. “You wouldn’t want to hurt this young lady, would you?”
Pretty didn’t answer that. Once upon a time, she might have even said yes. After all, she was the yuckyhuman girl who had stolen Freekin’s heart right from under Pretty’s seven eyes. Pretty might even have fried her to get to Horatio Snickering III. But life in the Land of the Living had changed her. Mellowed her. Made her less monsterish.
“I can see that we need to be rid of Franklin once and for all before we proceed,” Horatio Snickering went on. “Tell him to come to the fermented fat factory alone within the hour, or he will never see Lilly Weezbrock alive again.”
He snapped his fingers.
With an ear-piercing squeal of brakes, his black limousine screeched into the chaotic courtyard. Horatio Snickering carried Lilly over to it. The back door swung open; Henrietta’s skeleton-thin hands covered with enormous jeweled rings grabbed Lilly as Horatio practically threw her inside like a sack of Ultra Top Secret Ingredients. Then Mortadella the dog popped her scrawny little puff-topped head through the door.
“Grrr-arf!”
Mortadella’s beady eyes gleamed with canine malice.
“Bad doggie!” Pretty took a step toward the limousine.
“Careful, Miss Pretty,” Horatio Snickering warned her. “We don’t want anything to happen to Miss Weezbrock. Give Freekin my message. One hour.”
He climbed backward into the limo. “Viggo, step on it,” he ordered as he slammed the door.
The limo’s wheels squealed like banshees as it circled and barreled between two fire trucks, narrowly missing two firefighters who were carrying a long hose. The vehicle raced out of the courtyard and flew down the street.
“No!” Pretty cried. “Bad, bad, bad!” She scooted around in a circle, then dizzily wobbled back to Scary as Deirdre, Molly, and Janeece all dropped to the ground from his sturdy little rungs and ran toward the hole in the wall. “Scary,
wazeelili
!” she screamed, waving her arms.
“Zibu!”
Scary replied. Still ladder-shaped, he scooped up Pretty and hoisted her in the air. Slinging Lilly’s purse over her shoulder, she scrabbled up his rungs in record
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