Page 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Theo expected Kade to make a bigger deal out of walking on the opposite side of the road as him. And he did, at first. Laughed in Theo’s face, asked if Theo wanted him to wear a fake mustache and talk in another accent. Then he spoke in an awful Russian accent until Theo crossed the road and started toward Lockhart Books.

He checked behind him on the way, expecting Kade to be ducking behind lampposts just to annoy him. But Kade was walking normally. Thin shoulders slumped, one hand in his pocket, the other cradling a cigarette. Eyes scanning in case he had to duck out of the way of—or into, depending on Kade’s mood—someone’s fist.

Must be tiring , Theo thought. Always having to look out for someone who wants to give you trouble .

It made his stomach twist. He didn’t look at Kade again until he was inside Lockhart Books, pretending to browse the poetry collection.

The bell over the door jingled. Theo looked up from the poetry book he wasn’t reading and watched Kade stroll the aisles. He reached Theo’s aisle and gasped, hand flying to his chest. Today’s shirt was another winner: black lace with red letters spelling out SMALLTOWN BOY, with a little heart instead of an O .

Theo rolled his eyes. Here we go.

“By my stars and garters,” Kade said, which didn’t make any sense to Theo, but so did most of what Kade came up with. “Doth my eyes deceive me? Fellow classmate, Theo Fairgood?—”

“Okay.”

“Trawling the aisles of ye olde local bookshop, home of all things weird and strange? Reading a secondhand copy of”—His arched brows rose even higher—“Richard Siken’s Crush ? Bit, uh, abstract for you, but alright.”

It was a bit abstract for Theo. He had skimmed two sentences about melons and dreams before he started feeling like he was sitting an exam he hadn’t studied for and let his gaze go fuzzy. That didn’t mean he appreciated Kade’s mocking tone. He wasn't stupid . He studied too hard for that.

“Of course you know poetry ,” he sneered.

“Food of the soul.” Kade grinned that sharp smile Theo was used to, adjusting the scarf so it covered his bandages better. “Okay, where’s the vampire section? ”

Theo shushed him.

“It’s an empty shop , Fairgood.” Kade spun in a circle, narrowly avoiding knocking over a display of first-edition books about witch hunting.

“There’s someone out back,” Theo hissed. She smelled like dust and ozone and something else Theo couldn’t identify, old and dark and dripping.

“Shit. She’s coming—” Theo clicked his mouth shut as a woman pushed through the beads that separated the counter from the back room.

Kade gaped. Theo couldn’t blame him. One of Milly Hart’s eyes was white, the other so pale gray it might as well have been white. She had long, flat brown hair with a streak of grey and a deep scar bisecting her cheek and brow. There was a tattoo on her wrist, a spiky green fruit that Theo didn’t recognize. A worn friendship bracelet sat over the tattoo, a tiny skull knotted into it.

Theo’s sole memory of the Lockhart bookshop owner was being five years old and getting spooked by her in a supermarket. He’d tugged on his dad’s hand. Dad, what’s wrong with that lady’s face?

Don’t stare, his dad replied. It’s rude.

But he’d been staring too. Theo still remembered the look in his dad’s eyes, curiosity tinged with disgust, before he dragged Theo into the next aisle.

Kade’s smile came back, less sharp and more excited. “Oh my god, hi . We’re doing a school project about the town founders. Do you have any books about that? ”

Milly didn’t look at him. She was too busy staring at Theo, unblinking, her white eye somehow wider than the other.

Theo shivered. Maybe he really did look different. He’d noticed it a few times when he looked in the mirror over the weekend, but only when he was in the middle of looking away: a flash of something off, something wrong , pale and rotting and dead. Then he’d look back and find his face staring back at him the same as ever.

“Um,” Kade said. “Hello?”

Milly blinked, jerking back from wherever she’d been. “Hi. Hello. Sorry, you reminded me of something I have to do later. I can absolutely get you books on town lore, we’ve had a few local historians collect records. But if you’d like an overview, I can tell you whatever you’d like.”

Her speech was stiff and timid, like she’d taken a seminar on how to do customer service and was still getting the hang of it. But her face was warm. Friendly. Not quite open, but it hinted that it would like to be open, one day.

Kade strode up and leaned on the counter in barely restrained glee. “We would love that. Regale us, oh lady fair.”

She blinked again. Her mouth twisted, like she didn’t know if this strange goth boy was making fun of her or not .

“I mean ma’am,” Kade amended. “Regale us, ma’am . Sorry, we get so pumped about history. Right, partner?”

He turned to look at Theo, who ripped his gaze away from Milly’s scar and nodded.

“Can’t get enough.”

Milly brushed her hair back behind her ears. It showed off even more of the deep scar, which wrapped down around her jaw. If Theo had a scar like that, he would never push his hair behind his ears again. Like Felicity and the scar she got when she broke her arm during gymnastics practice in fifth grade, the bone shooting straight through the skin. She wore long sleeve shirts whenever she could get away with it. They had to photoshop it out of her model photos.

Theo shot a guilty look over at Kade, that stupid scarf tight around his head. Kade pulled him out of a lake and what did Theo do in return? Disfigured him for life. Probably. Theo didn’t know how burn scars worked.

“One second.” Milly ducked back behind the beads. Theo listened as she shifted books around. Above him, a fly buzzed in the rafters. If Theo closed his eyes and concentrated, he could hear it rubbing its legs together.

A loud snap made his eyes fly open. Kade stood in front of him, face bright like it had been for a few seconds in the closet. You’re dragging me along on your little vampire adventure?

“This is insane,” Kade whispered, bouncing on the spot. “She’s perfect . She’s right out of a Stephen King novel. Is she going to be our sage guide or is she secretly in charge of the vampire cult that will kill us all?”

“What are you talking about? She’s just a lady who owns a bookshop. Stop jumping .”

Kade stopped. His goofy grin didn’t go away as Milly emerged and threw a book down on the counter. It was thick and black, the pages yellow with age. It had no title, just a chipped gold flame embossed into the black cover.

“Cool!” Kade squeaked.

Theo nudged him.

Kade cleared his throat, tone turning flat and unaffected. “Cool. So, you’re gonna give us the Cliff notes?”

“I’m going to do my best.” Milly tipped the book open, revealing spidery text crammed from margin to margin. Half of the book was burned, more of it was stained. Not much was legible, and only if you could read cursive that curly, which Theo couldn’t.

“So, you know the basics—vampires moved into the land, terrorized surrounding villagers. Hunters tracked them down, killed them, trapped the leader in a coffin, lit her on fire and buried her deep underground. They built a town on top and called it Lock.”

Kade whistled, rocking on his heels. “I gotta say, for a town with a history so metal I expected Lock to be less boring.”

“It’s small-town America,” Theo said. “What did you expect? ”

Milly kept flipping until she hit loose paper: ledgers and dates and what looked like an old diary entry.

“The stories get filed down over the years,” she continued. “Simplified. No thorny complications.”

Kade and Theo spoke in one. “Complications?”

The book fell open to a drawing: men with spiked mouths, snarling from the dark. On the other side, lit by the sun, stood a group of men with torches and axes. The stains and burns blurred half of each group into a cracked mess.

“The hunters never left,” Milly said. “They stuck around, passing the mantle down to the next generation. Vampires are still drawn to this place and their old leader, still burning under the earth. The fight has been going on for centuries, right under our noses.”

Kade let out a delighted snort.

Theo dug an elbow into his side.

“I’m cool,” Kade hissed. Then, to Milly: “So the hunters would have to be a family who have been here since it was founded, right? Like the Fairgoods?”

Theo nudged him again, harder. “The hell, man!”

Kade rubbed his side. “What? I’m just throwing out options!”

“Half the town has been here since it was founded,” Theo argued. “And my parents didn’t even grow up here! They only moved back once I was born!”

“Convenient.”

“Shut up!”

Milly cleared her throat. “The Fairgoods don’t get mentioned. Actually, all the names are in code. One group goes by the title Warrens . Something about rabbits.”

Kade cocked his head. “Theo. Doesn’t your best pal, Aaron Fletcher, go out to shoot rabbits with his family every year? A tradition spanning countless generations?”

Theo glared at him. Kade’s shit-eating grin grew even bigger.

“But this book doesn’t make it clear if the Warrens are the hunters or the hunted,” Milly continued. “It’s…difficult to put together.”

She lifted another page. The corner flecked off, too charred to hold. She closed the book carefully, resting her scarred hand over the cover. For a moment her face emptied, eyes going half-lidded. Then she looked up and the stiffness was back.

“Whoever wrote this was very dedicated to keep up the fiction. I wish they got to write our other history books. Centuries of vampires and hunters chasing each other would make Gerabaldi’s History Of Lock, 1800s To Now , much more interesting.”

Kade laughed. Theo joined in, but it was dry, scraping up his throat. The golden flame gleamed under Milly’s fingers. If vampires were real, then the founders story could be too. Hunters could still be among them, wanting to…what? Kill him? Shove him down there to join the vampire leader? A shudder worked up his spine as he imagined the tight space of a coffin, flames licking his skin for eternity. If the story was true, then she’d be en down there all this time. She was burning right now.

“Theo?”

Theo looked over. Kade and Milly were watching him, waiting.

Theo shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“I said it makes for a good story,” Kade told him. “Doesn’t it? Centuries of hiding and fighting. Generations rising and falling. It’s like an epic poem.”

Dust drifted between Milly’s fingers, onto the golden flame. Theo could see dust motes. He could see each pore in their faces. If he focused, he could hear termites in the wall of the next store, he could hear the blood rushing in Kade’s veins, tantalizing, waiting for him…

“I’ve never been much of a poetry guy,” Theo mumbled. He kept his lips over his teeth, just in case.

Kade ghosted his hand over the golden flame embedded in the black book. “Shame about old man Lemmings, huh?”

Theo shot him a look. Kade shot one back, defensive. We’re investigating, he mouthed as Milly busied herself behind the counter, refilling the receipt machine.

“Jeremiah? Yes, it’s terrible. He ordered from here sometimes.”

“Oh?” Kade gave Theo another look, far too smug. “What did he read?”

“Elizabethan history, mostly.” Milly clicked the receipt machine closed and looked up at them again, white eye gleaming in the dim store. “Are you going to his funeral?”

“Maybe,” said Theo, who knew his parents would rather listen to Theo talk about wildflowers for an hour than attend an old hermit’s funeral.

Kade hummed. “Theo, isn’t there just one funeral home in Lock right now? The other one folded after everyone in the family business?—”

He mimed a gun under his chin.

“I guess,” Theo said through gritted teeth.

“So I guess all dead roads in Lock lead to that funeral home.”

“What’s your point?”

“No point,” Kade said, staring at Theo like he could scream directly into his soul with nothing but eye contact. “Hey, do you want to head out? I think we have enough for today. Thanks a bunch, Milly.”