Solomon's Ring by Mary Jennifer Payne

Author:Mary Jennifer Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2017-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

JADE

I jump and nearly shout out. Heart racing, I turn and see Amara throwing her arms around the man who’s ­somehow managed to sneak up on us. I smile at Lily, but it’s a shaky smile because all I can think is one or more of us could be dead right now if this man had been a demon.

“This is my dad,” Amara says, grinning widely, her white teeth gleaming like Chiclets. She turns back to her father. “Dad, this is Jade, Lily, and Fiona. How did you find us?” Her admiration for her father shines in her eyes.

Mr. Jakande shakes his head. “No need to worry about that right now.” His voice is deep and strangely reassuring. “None of you should be out after curfew, and you certainly should not be out here.” He glances down at the decapitated bodies lying near our feet but doesn’t look shocked. In fact, not even a glimmer of surprise ­registers on his face. “As such, I need to get all of you home and safe as soon as possible.”

“We can’t go with you,” I say. “We’re supposed to meet my sister and Vivienne and the others in the lobby of the apartment building where I live. They’ll be waiting for us.”

Mr. Jakande nods. “Yes, we knew that was ­happening, and it’s been taken care of. A ride home has been ­arranged for them already. No worries.”

I raise an eyebrow at Lily. Who is this we he keeps referring to? Considering he’s Amara and Vivienne’s father, I don’t see what choice we have but to trust him.

Fiona and Lily are dropped off first. Then Mr. Jakande drops Amara off. A worm of worry unfurls in my ­stomach. Why is he dropping off his daughter? I can see the question forming behind Amara’s eyes as well, though her father seems to inspire such reverence, she doesn’t even ask.

“See you soon, my Bokkie,” Mr. Jakande says as he opens the car door for Amara. “I’ll watch until you get inside. If your mother notices, which I don’t think she will, judging from the amount of wine her book club has consumed this evening, tell her I’ll explain everything when I get home.” He leans over and gives Amara a kiss on the forehead.

“See you tomorrow,” Amara says, leaning back down to peer into the car and wave at me. She smiles widely.

I’ll see you tomorrow as long as your father isn’t a ­serial killer or rapist, I want to answer. I remember a sex education class from grade seven or eight in which our phys. ed. teacher, Mrs. Pringle, who looked like she’d be more at home on a Paris runway than standing in workout clothes in front of thirty teenagers, told us over and over again that four out of five times, victims of rape know their attacker.

I glance sideways at Mr. Jakande. He’s actually quite good-looking for being somebody’s father. He’s got a really strong jaw and chin, and his deep-brown skin is smooth and shiny.

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