Finale

a relief. For a minute there, I thought that was all you planned on wearing,” I said, gesturing at the skimpy vinyl.
    Marcie glanced down. “It is. I’m Catwoman. I just need to hot-glue black felt ears to my headband.”
    “You’re wearing a bra to the party? Just a bra?”
    “A bandeau.”
    Oh, this was going to be good. I couldn’t wait for Vee’s commentary. “Who’s Batman?”
    “Robert Boxler.”
    “I guess that means Scott bailed?” It was more of a rhetorical question. Just to give the proverbial knife one last twist.
    Marcie gave her shoulders a pompous little hike. “Scott who?” she said, and marched upstairs.
    “He chose Vee over you!” I called triumphantly after her.
    “I don’t care,” Marcie singsonged back. “You probably made him. It’s no secret he does everything you say. Put the soda in the fridge before the turn of the
century.”
    I stuck my tongue out, even though she couldn’t see it. “I have to get ready too, you know!”
    At seven, the first guests arrived. Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, Elvis and Priscilla. Even a bottle of ketchup and mustard strolled through the front door. I
let Marcie play hostess and moseyed into the kitchen, stacking my plate with deviled eggs, cocktail wieners, and candy corn. I’d been too busy granting Marcie’s every pre-party command
to eat dinner. That, and the new formula of devilcraft Dante had given me, seemed to curb my appetite for the first several hours after I took it.
    I’d done a reasonably good job of rationing it and still had enough to last a few more days. The night sweats, headaches, and strange tingling sensation that would seize me at the oddest
moments when I’d first started taking the new formula had gone away. I was sure this meant that the dangers of addiction had passed and I’d learned to use devilcraft safely. Moderation
was key. Blakely might have tried to hook me on devilcraft, but I was strong enough to set my own limits.
    The effects of devilcraft were unbelievable. I’d never felt so mentally and physically superior. I knew I had to stop taking it eventually, but with the stress and dangers of Cheshvan and
war looming, I was glad I was being cautious. If another of my doubting Nephilim soldiers attacked me, this time I’d be ready.
    After filling up on appetizers and Sprite served from a black cauldron, I elbowed my way into the living room, looking to see whether Vee and Scott had arrived. The lights were dimmed, everyone
was in costume, and I had a hard time picking faces out of the crowd. Plus, I’d peeked at the guest list. It was heavily weighted in favor of Marcie’s friends.
    “Love the costume, Nora. But you’re anything but a devil.”
    I looked sideways at Morticia Addams. I squinted in confusion, then smiled. “Oh, hey, Bailey. I almost didn’t recognize you with black hair.” Bailey sat beside me in math, and
we’d been friends since junior high. I picked up my devil tail, with the little red spade at the tip, to save it from the guy behind me, who kept accidentally stepping on it, and said,
“Thanks for coming tonight.”
    “Did you finish your math homework? I didn’t understand a single thing Mr. Huron tried to teach us today. Every time he started working a problem on the chalkboard, he’d stop
halfway through, erase his work, and start over. I don’t think
he
knows what he’s doing.”
    “Yeah, I’m probably going to spend hours on it tomorrow.”
    Her eyes lit up. “We should meet at the library and do it together.”
    “I promised my mom I’d clean out the cellar after school,” I hedged. Truth be told, homework had slipped a few notches on my list of priorities as of late. It was hard to
stress about school when I feared that any day now the eerie cease-fire between fallen angels and Nephilim was going to snap. Fallen angels were up to something. And I’d give anything to find
out what.
    “Oh. Maybe next time,” Bailey said, sounding disappointed.
    “Have you seen Vee?”
    “Not yet. Who is she coming as?”
    “A babysitter. Her date is Michael Myers from
Halloween
,” I explained. “If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
    When I made it across the living room, I bumped into Marcie and her date, Robert Boxler.
    “Food status?” Marcie asked me authoritatively.
    “My mom’s handling it.”
    “Music?”
    “Derrick Coleman is DJ.”
    “Are you working the crowd? Is everyone having fun?”
    “I just finished a