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    The Mediator #2: Ninth Key
    The Mediator #2: Ninth Key
    The Mediator #2: Ninth Key
    Ebook230 pages3 hours

    The Mediator #2: Ninth Key

    By Meg Cabot

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    The Ninth Key is the second book in the thrilling, romantic Mediator series, from the New York Times bestselling author of the Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot. 

    Everything is going great for Suze. Her new life in California is a whirlwind of parties and excellent hair days. Tad Beaumont, the hottest boy in town, has even asked Suze out on her very first date. Suze is so excited that she's willing to ignore her misgivings about Tad...particularly the fact that he's not Jesse, whose ghostly status—not to mention apparent disinterest in her—make him unattainable.

    What Suze can't ignore, however, is the ghost of a murdered woman whose death seems directly connected to dark secrets hidden in none other than Tad Beaumont's past.

    Don't miss the delightfully funny supernatural Mediator series, from New York Times bestselling author Meg Cabot.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperTeen
    Release dateOct 6, 2009
    ISBN9780061971891
    The Mediator #2: Ninth Key
    Author

    Meg Cabot

    MEG CABOT’s many books for both adults and teens have included numerous #1 New York Times bestsellers, with more than twenty-five million copies sold worldwide. Her Princess Diaries series was made into two hit films by Disney, with a third movie coming soon. Meg currently lives in Key West, Florida, with her husband and various cats.

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    Reviews for The Mediator #2

    4.5/5

    86 ratings21 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Suze just want to be a normal teen.I really enjoyed listening to this. Very cute and funny.
    • 2/5
      What would you do when the ghost of a woman shows up in your bedroom and tells you to "tell Red he didn't kill me"? You'd tell him, right? Especially if that was the only way to get her to stop screaming and yelling at you all the time. So Suze asks around to find out if anyone knows "Red" and finds out he's a well-known pillar of the community, one with a very hot son she starts dating. Oh, and Red also might be a vampire because he keeps staring at Suze's neck and his assistant does too when he asks if Red hurt her.

      Jesse, the ghost who lives in her bedroom, seems jealous over her dating Tad. That's great by Suze because she's falling for him in a big way, even though there's no way they can be together. But Tad's nice, and she gave him poison oak, so she's willing to see if there's something there, even though she's busily trying to figure out if his father murdered a bunch of people or just ate them for a vampiric snack. Red isn't the Red she was looking for so it takes a while for her to deliver the message but when she does it's worth it.
    • 4/5
      For more reviews, gifs, Cover Snark and more, visit A Reader of Fictions.Actual rating: 3.5 starsRereading old favorites is interesting. The Mediator series was one of my favorite things ever, but it’s shocking how little I actually remembered about the books. Reading them through a blogger lens definitely casts them in a slightly different light, but they’re still hilarious and fun, even if they’re no longer perfection to me. That said, I’m fairly certain that Ninth Key is the weakest in the series. Fun, but lacking much effect on the larger narrative.Suze is amazing, and I love her, but I also want to see her grow. She doesn’t really do that in Ninth Key at all. She runs around to solve the absurd mystery du jour, and that’s basically it. Nothing really happens to move the larger plot arc forward. Of course, partially, that’s awesome because the larger plot revolves around Jesse. Cabot wants to give us the slow burn, so she’s filling time.So Suze gets her first kiss in Ninth Key. I have to say that much as I don’t like Tad (especially since my dad’s name is Tadd – double yuck) that I love the fact that Suze does try out other guys. She’s already got a sizable crush on Jesse, but hello he’s dead. Unlike most paranormal heroines, she’s totally phased by the fact that her dude is not a living human, even if he is gorgeous. Suze is just cool that way, even if she does feel the need to tell me about the guys’ body hair, which no thank you.Also, the mystery in this one is totes ridic to the max. Like, the whole thing is built around a really stupid misunderstanding where the ghost won’t be specific. So Suze gets involved in this big dramatic murder mystery because reasons, and it’s just all so over the top. That’s part of the charm of the book, too, but it’s just so silly.I mean, I still loved reading it and flew through it, because Suze is just amazing. However, sadly, what makes Ninth Key notable is mostly the stuff that didn’t work as well as usual. Still, I think three is where the ship starts to board, which means YES.
    • 3/5
      I guess I'm still reading this series? It's junk food but it's still food so
    • 3/5
      The second book in the Mediator series is as frothy, fun, and wholesome as the first. And by wholesome I don't mean that Suze, who can communicate with the dead, is a "family values" prig--rather, I mean she's forthright, smart, a good friend and has no shame about her own desires. It's YA, and I really hope a lot of teenagers read it.
    • 3/5
      I liked it. I would read more of the series. A light mystery.
    • 3/5
      Not my favorite in the series, but still entertaining. PopSugar Reading Challenge 2016 | Task 4: Book you haven't read since high school(It might have been freshman year of college, but who's counting. Plus I need to refresh my memory to prepare for the 7th book).
    • 3/5
      Second verse same as the first...it's like an episode of a soap opera, you want to say no but you have to know what happens next. Clever Cabot.
    • 3/5
      In a lot of longer series, I tend to look at some books as filler. This is one of them. A lot of Ninth Key revolves around Suze settling into her role at Carmel and how her relationship with Jesse is progressing. (I did like that her dad’s ghost pops in and promptly chews Jesse out for living with his daughter.) But it’s a good filler book for setting up and expanding on these relationships. I like that Suze realizes her crush is impossible and tries to go for living boys; I like how CeeCee and Adam kinda graduated into her right-hand companions/researchers; I like how you see how much harder it is to be a mediator in her new circumstances. The vampire plot that drives the book gets a little silly, and I reacted similarly to Suze whenever Father Dominic first brings up the possibility. But I do enjoy it, and I liked how the whole thing resolves.
    • 5/5
      I adored the first book in the series, and the second one was just as much fun. I read it in two sessions ina single day. it's fast, fun, light and fluffy. The perfect book in 40'C (100'+F) weather.
    • 5/5
      The Mediator Series by Meg Cabot is about a girl that can see ghosts. This becomes a little tricky when she moves from New York to California only to find a gorgeous ghost is already living in her bedroom. Not only does Suze have to deal with Jesse there is another ghost trying to kill people at her school. I loved these books, Suze was so down to earth and Jesse was so crushable.
    • 4/5
      Very fun book! I loved it from page one to the end. A quick fast read! Awesome! Recommend to teens!
    • 4/5
      This is book two in the Mediator series, and I thought I had more of the series, but I guess I don't. I think girls will really like it since there seems to be a little bit of everything; suspense, mystery, romance... I keep thinking she's going to end up with Jesse and then nothing happens... I'll definitely be buying book three sometime soon.
    • 4/5
      Sixteen year old Suze Simon is a Mediator...she can see and talk to ghosts. It is her job to resolve the problem that is keeping them here one earth. The ghost of a dead woman has been visiting her at night screaming at her to "tell Red he didn't kill me!" Suze believes that "Red" is a local developer. but when she goes to deliver the message, she gets involved in some very strange events, including nearly getting herself killed.I've been listening to the Mediator series on CD and thoroughy enjoying it. Somehow, the audio version makes the story come alive. The reader, Johanna Parker, has the voice of a 16 year old girl down pat and fully inserts the humorous voice of a typical Meg Cabot character.
    • 5/5
      Suze Simon has a major problem. The problem isn't that she can talk to ghosts or that a super-cute ghost is living in her room or even that she is being made to live across the country from her native New York along with THREE stepbrothers. Her biggest problem is that she is sweet 16 and never been kissed, nor ever even had a boy interested in her. It's not that she's ugly (she's not), or stupid (Suze is quite witty if she does say so herself.) It's that no one can quite get past the fact that Suze seems as likely to smack you around as give you a hug. Maybe she should consider a change in 'tude? Then again, considering her mediator duties and all the ghost-busting she's had to do since arriving in California, it could be that the attitude is all that stands between staying alive or joining her unwelcome charges.It has been a while since I first read Meg Cabot's Mediator books and I've been curious if they would stand the re-reading test and be as good now as I remember. I can certainly say I still love it! Suze's sarcastic, if slightly self-important, views on life made me giggle all the way through the story. This particular volume has a couple of my favorite scenes to grace the whole series, most specifically we get to see Suze's first kiss (LOL!) and the climactic scene at the end, despite all the fried fish. Also, I have to mention Jesse, who is the number one choice for my favorite hero in any book series, young adult, adult or otherwise.Now that I've given into the temptation of re-reading this one, I guess I'll have to continue on and do the whole series over. They're just that good!
    • 4/5
      I really like Susannah's character because she kind of sassy and a "kick butt" kind of girl. She's got a really strong personality but it has many of the issues that a teen girl faces...being embarrassed...wanting a boyfriend, and all that.All in all, this is turning out to be a solid series in the genre of urban fantasy and I highly recommend.
    • 4/5
      This book is almost as good as the first in the series. There's a good deal of action and a lot of funny lines. It definitely makes you want to read more. I just want Jesse and Suze to kiss already!
    • 5/5
      Life is good for Suze in her new home in California. She is making friends, tolerating her step brothers, and best of all is asked out by Tad Beaumont. So her pesky Mediator duties don't seem so bad until the ghost of a murdered woman starts screaming next to Suze's bed each night. So Suze needs to track down a murderer and the trail looks like it is leading straight to Tad's door.
    • 2/5
      I almost wished that the vampire angle had turned out to be "true".
    • 5/5
      I adored the first book in the series, and the second one was just as much fun. I read it in two sessions ina single day. it's fast, fun, light and fluffy. The perfect book in 40'C (100'+F) weather.
    • 4/5
      A brilliant follow up to the first book "Shadowland", Carroll keeps all the elements we know and love Susanah's smart mouthed attitude, Jesse the hot Latino ghost that shares Suze's room (hubba hubba!), and a dilemma that only Suze as the Mediator who can see and speak to the dead can resolve. Suze is woken in the middle of the night by a very agitated ghost all she will say is to tell Red that "he didn't kill her, that it wasn't his fault." Suze finds Red only snag is that he's a vampire, whose cute son is interested in Suze. The book builds upon the first novel brilliantly it's loaded with pop culture references and humour that will delight Buffy fans. My favourite scenes are those between Jesse and Suze especially when he catches her in the car kissing Red's son, her indignation that he is spying on her and his barely concealed jealousy is priceless. The edgy relationship Mediator and ghost share definitely makes this one to keep reading. In short a must have for any teen reader who likes plot as well as humour.

    Book preview

    The Mediator #2 - Meg Cabot

    Chapter

    One

    Nobody told me about the poison oak.

    Oh, they told me about the palm trees. Yeah, they told me plenty about the palm trees, all right. But nobody ever said a word about this poison oak business.

    The thing is, Susannah—

    Father Dominic was talking to me. I was trying to pay attention, but let me tell you something: poison oak itches.

    As mediators—which is what we are, you and I, Susannah—we have a responsibility. We have a responsibility to give aid and solace to those unfortunate souls who are suffering in the void between the living and the dead.

    I mean, yeah, the palm trees are nice and everything. It had been cool to step off the plane and see those palm trees everywhere, especially since I’d heard how cold it can get at night in northern California.

    But what is the deal with this poison oak? How come nobody ever warned me about that?

    You see, as mediators, Susannah, it is our duty to help lost souls get to where they are supposed to be going. We are their guides, as it were. Their spiritual liaisons between this world and the next. Father Dominic fingered an unopened pack of cigarettes that was sitting on his desk, and regarded me with those big old baby blues of his. But when one’s spiritual liaison takes one’s head and slams it into a locker door…well, you can see how that kind of behavior might not build the sort of trust we’d like to establish with our troubled brothers and sisters.

    I looked up from the rash on my hands. Rash. That wasn’t even the word for it. It was like a fungus. Worse than a fungus, even. It was a growth. An insidious growth that, given time, would consume every inch of my once smooth, unblemished skin, covering it with red, scaly bumps. That oozed, by the way.

    Yeah, I said, but if our troubled brothers and sisters are giving us a hard time, I don’t see why it’s such a crime if I just haul off and slug them in the—

    But don’t you see, Susannah? Father Dominic clenched the pack of cigarettes. I’d only known him a couple of weeks, but whenever he started fondling his cigarettes—which he never, by the way, actually smoked—it meant he was upset about something.

    That something, at this particular moment, appeared to be me.

    That is why, he explained, you’re called a mediator. You are supposed to be helping to bring these troubled souls to spiritual fulfillment—

    Look, Father Dom, I said. I tucked my oozing hands out of sight. I don’t know what kind of ghosts you’ve been dealing with lately, but the ones I’ve been running into are about as likely to find spiritual fulfillment as I’m going to find a decent New York City–style slice of pizza in this town. It ain’t gonna happen. These folks are going to hell or they’re going to heaven or they’re going on to their next life as a caterpillar in Kathmandu, but any way you slice it, sometimes they’re gonna need a little kick in the butt to get them there….

    No, no, no. Father Dominic leaned forward. He couldn’t lean forward too much because a week or so before, one of those troubled souls of his had decided to forgo spiritual enlightenment and tried to snap his leg off instead. She also broke a couple of his ribs, gave him a pretty nifty concussion, tore up the school real good, and, let’s see, what else?

    Oh, yeah. She tried to kill me.

    Father Dominic was back at school, but he was wearing a cast that went all the way down to his toes, and disappeared up his long black robe, who knew how far? Personally, I didn’t like to think about it.

    He was getting pretty handy with those crutches, though. He could chase the late kids up and down the halls if he had to. But since he was the principal, and it was up to the novices to hand out late slips, he didn’t have to. Besides, Father Dom was pretty cool, and wouldn’t do something like that even if he could.

    Though he takes the whole ghost thing a little too seriously, if you ask me.

    Susannah, he said, tiredly. You and I, for better or for worse, were born with an incredible gift—an ability to see and speak to the dead.

    There you go again, I said, rolling my eyes, "with that gift stuff. Frankly, Father, I don’t see it that way."

    How could I? Since the age of two—two years old—I’ve been pestered with, pounded on, plagued by restless spirits. For fourteen years, I’ve put up with their abuse, helping them when I could, punching them when I could not, always fearful of somebody finding out my secret and revealing me to be the biological freak I’ve always known I am, but have tried so desperately to hide from my sweet, long-suffering mother.

    And then Mom remarried and moved me out to California—in the middle of my sophomore year, thanks very much—where, wonder of wonders, I’d actually met someone cursed with the same horrible affliction: Father Dominic.

    Only Father Dominic refuses to view our gift in the same light as me. To him, it’s a marvelous opportunity to help others in need.

    Yeah, okay. That’s fine for him. He’s a priest. He’s not a sixteen-year-old girl who, hello, would like to have a social life.

    If you ask me, a gift would have some plus side to it. Like superhuman strength or the ability to read minds, or something. But I don’t have any of that cool stuff. I’m just an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl—well, okay, with above ordinary looks, if I do say so myself—who happens to be able to converse with the dead.

    Big deal.

    Susannah, he said now, very seriously. "We are mediators. We aren’t…well, terminators. Our duty is to intervene on the spirits’ behalf, and lead them to their ultimate destination. We do that by gentle guidance and counseling, not by punching them in the face or by performing Brazilian voodoo exorcisms."

    He raised his voice on the word exorcisms, even though he knew perfectly well I’d only done the exorcism as a last resort. It’s not my fault half the school fell down during it. I mean, technically, that was the ghost’s fault, not mine.

    Okay, okay, already, I said, holding up both hands in an I-surrender sort of gesture. I’ll try it your way from now on. I’ll do the touchy-feely stuff. Jeez. You West Coasters. It’s all backrubs and avocado sandwiches with you guys, isn’t it?

    Father Dominic shook his head. And what would you call your mediation technique, Susannah? Headbutts and chokeholds?

    That’s very funny, Father Dom, I said. Can I go back to class now?

    Not yet. He puttered around with the cigarettes, tapping the pack like he was actually going to open it. That’ll be the day. How was your weekend?

    Swell, I said. I held up my hands, knuckles turned toward him. See?

    He squinted. Good heavens, Susannah, he said. "What is that?"

    Poison oak. Good thing nobody told me it grows all over the place around here.

    It doesn’t grow all over the place, Father Dominic said. Only in wooded areas. Were you in a wooded area this weekend? Then his eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses. "Susannah! You didn’t go to the cemetery, did you? Not alone. I know you believe yourself to be indomitable, but it isn’t at all safe for a young girl like yourself to go sneaking around cemeteries even if you are a mediator."

    I put down my hands and said, disgustedly, "I didn’t catch this in any cemetery. I wasn’t working. I got it at Kelly Prescott’s pool party Saturday night."

    Kelly Prescott’s pool party? Father Dominic looked confused. How would you have encountered poison oak there?

    Too late, I realized I probably should have kept my mouth shut. Now I was going to have to explain—to the principal of my school, who also happened to be a priest, no less—about how a rumor had gone around midway through the party that my stepbrother Dopey and this girl named Debbie Mancuso were going at it in the pool house.

    I had of course denied the possibility since I knew Dopey was grounded. Dopey’s dad—my new stepfather, who, for a mostly laid-back, California kind of guy, had turned out to be a pretty stern disciplinarian—had grounded Dopey for calling a friend of mine a fag.

    So when the rumor went around at the party that Dopey and Debbie Mancuso were doing the nasty in the pool house, I was pretty sure everyone was mistaken. Brad, I kept insisting—everyone but me calls Dopey Brad, which is his real name, but believe me, Dopey fits him much better—was back home listening to Marilyn Manson through headphones, since his father had also confiscated his stereo speakers.

    But then someone said, Go take a look for yourself, and I made the mistake of doing so, tiptoeing up to the small window they’d indicated, and peering through it.

    I had never particularly cared to see any of my stepbrothers in the buff. Not that they are bad looking or anything. Sleepy, the oldest one, is actually considered something of a stud by most of the girls at Junipero Serra Mission Academy, where he is a senior and I am a sophomore. But that doesn’t mean I have any desire to see him strutting around the house without his boxers. And of course Doc, the youngest, is only twelve, totally adorable with his red hair and sticky-outy ears, but not what you’d call a babe.

    And as for Dopey…well, I particularly never wanted to see Dopey in his altogether. In fact, Dopey is just about the last person on earth I’d ever wish to see naked.

    Fortunately, when I looked through that window I saw that reports of my stepbrother’s state of undress—as well as his sexual prowess—had been greatly exaggerated. He and Debbie were only making out. This is not to say that I wasn’t completely repulsed. I mean, I wasn’t exactly proud that my stepbrother was in there tongue wrestling with the second stupidest person in our class, after himself.

    I looked away immediately, of course. I mean, we’ve got Showtime at home, for God’s sake. I’ve seen plenty of French kissing before. I wasn’t about to stand there gawking while my stepbrother engaged in it. And as for Debbie Mancuso, well, all I can say is, she ought to lay off the sauce. She can’t afford to lose any more brain cells than she already has, what with all the hair spray she slathers on in the girls’ room between classes.

    It was as I was staggering away in disgust from the pool house window, which was situated above a small gravel path, that I believe I stumbled into some poison oak. I don’t remember coming into contact with plant life at any other time this past weekend, being a generally indoors kind of girl.

    And let me tell you, I really stumbled into those plants. I was feeling light-headed from the horror of what I’d just seen—you know, the tongues and all—plus I had on my platform mules, and I sort of lost my balance. The plants I grabbed on to were all that saved me from the ignominy of collapsing on Kelly Prescott’s redwood pool deck.

    What I told Father Dominic, however, was an abridged version. I said I must have staggered into some poison oak as I was getting out of the Prescotts’ hot tub.

    Father Dominic seemed to accept this, and said, Well, some hydrocortisone ought to clear that up. You should see the nurse after this. Be sure not to scratch it or it will spread.

    Yeah, thanks. I’ll be sure not to breathe, either. That’ll probably be just about as easy.

    Father Dominic ignored my sarcasm. It’s funny about us two both being mediators. I’ve never met anybody else who happened to be one—in fact, until a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was the only mediator in the whole wide world.

    But Father Dom says there are others. He’s not sure how many, or even how, exactly, we precious few happened to be picked for our illustrious—have I mentioned unpaid?—careers. I’m thinking we should maybe start a newsletter or something. The Mediator News. And have conferences. I could give a seminar on five easy ways to kick a ghost’s butt and not mess up your hair.

    Anyway, about me and Father Dom. For two people who have the same weird ability to talk to the dead, we are about as different as can be. Besides the age thing, Father Dom being sixty and me being sixteen, he’s Mister Nice himself, whereas I’m…

    Well, not.

    Not that I don’t try to be. It’s just that one thing I’ve learned from all of this is that we don’t have very much time here on Earth. So why waste it putting up with other people’s crap? Particularly people who are already dead, anyway.

    Besides the poison oak, Father Dominic said. Is there anything else going on in your life you think I should know about?

    Anything else going on in my life that I thought he should know about. Let me see….

    How about the fact that I’m sixteen, and so far, unlike my stepbrother Dopey, I still haven’t been kissed, much less asked out?

    Not a major big deal—especially to Father Dom, a guy who took a vow of chastity about thirty years before I was even born—but humiliating, just the same. There’d been a lot of kissing going on at Kelly Prescott’s pool party—and some heavier stuff, even—but no one had tried to lock lips with me.

    A boy I didn’t know did ask me to slow dance at one point, though. And I said yes, but only because Kelly yelled at me after I turned him down the first time he asked. Apparently this boy was someone she’d had a crush on for a while. How my slow dancing with him was supposed to get him to like Kelly, I don’t know, but after I turned him down the first time, she cornered me in her bedroom, where I’d gone to check my hair, and, with actual tears in her eyes, informed me that I had ruined her party.

    Ruined your party? I was genuinely astonished. I’d lived in California for all of two weeks by then, so it amazed me that I had managed to make myself a social pariah in such a short period of time. Kelly was already mad at me, I knew, because I had invited my friends CeeCee and Adam, whom she and just about everyone else in the sophomore class at the Mission Academy consider freaks, to her party. Now I had apparently added insult to injury by not agreeing to dance with some boy I didn’t even know.

    Jesus, Kelly said, when she heard this. He’s a junior at Robert Louis Stevenson, okay? He’s the star forward on their basketball team. He won last year’s regatta at Pebble Beach, and he’s the hottest guy in the Valley, after Bryce Martinson. Suze, if you don’t dance with him, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.

    I said, All right already. What is your glitch, anyway?

    I just, Kelly said, wiping her eyes with a manicured finger, want everything to go really well. I’ve had my eye on this guy for a while now, and—

    Oh, yeah, Kel, I said. Getting me to dance with him is sure to make him like you.

    When I pointed out this fallacy in her thought process, however, all she said was, Just do it, only not the way they say it in Nike ads. She said it the way the Wicked Witch of the West said it to the winged monkeys when she sent them out to kill Dorothy and her little dog, too.

    I’m not scared of Kelly or anything, but really, who needs the grief?

    So I went back outside and stood there in my Calvin Klein one-piece—with a sarong tied ever-so-casually around my waist—totally not knowing I had just stumbled into a bunch of poison oak, while Kelly went over to her dream date and asked him to ask me to dance again.

    As I stood there, I tried not to think that the only reason he wanted to dance with me in the first place was that I was the only girl at the party in a swimsuit. Having never been invited to a pool party before in my life, I had erroneously believed people actually swam at them, and had dressed accordingly.

    Not so, apparently. Aside from my stepbrother, who’d apparently become overwarm while in Debbie Mancuso’s impassioned embrace and had stripped off his shirt, I was wearing the least clothes of anybody there.

    Including

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