Page 27

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Five months after Theo Fairgood died, he sat on the cliffs next to his house and watched the sun go down. He had a pair of Kade’s fabric scissors and an old photograph from the Sloan house in his lap.

Beverly Sloan had sent Felicity to get the photograph she’d stolen from the Cheech house, then left the house. Just to be safe. Felicity had come downstairs with a dazed look on her face, clutching the elbow she hadn’t let Theo heal on the way over.

It’s, uh… She’d trailed off. No wonder she didn’t want me to see it.

That was last week. Theo had spent every night since then lying on Kade’s couch, looking at the faded photograph.

A gentle breeze ruffled Theo’s hair, carrying a scent Theo knew better than any other .

“Hey,” he said as Kade sat down next to him. “Where’s Sparky?”

“Left her at home,” Kade replied, sliding his legs carefully over the cliff edge. He looked at the sunset turning the water orange, then gestured at the fabric scissors. “Could’ve taken my shitty pair, by the way. Are you gonna cut it up?”

He gestured at the photo in Theo’s hand.

“Nope,” Theo said.

“Oh. Alright.” Kade averted his eyes.

Theo hadn’t seen Kade look at the photo much. He got it out of Kade’s drawer at night, then slipped it back before Kade woke up. He hadn’t seen Kade touch that drawer in the last week, except to show Sundance, who had peered at it for two full minutes before announcing that she was going to take a long, long walk.

It was a small photo. Black and white and faded with age. There was a burn at the corner that was so old it didn’t smell like ash anymore. Two boys stared out from the frame. When Theo had first looked at the photograph sitting in Felicity’s palm, he had felt a strange tunneling sensation. Like time was flimsy and he was putting a hand through it, reaching down through the layers. Like all of this had happened already and would happen again.

It was them . Theo on the right, dressed in a Victorian-style suit. His curls were smoothed back, his posture straight and proper as he stared the camera down. Kade stood on the left. He was wearing a puffy white shirt and suspenders, his dark hair in a knot on top of his head. It was undeniably them, down to the stubborn curl escaping over Theo’s forehead and the mole on Kade’s neck.

The boys looked relaxed, almost happy. It matched the writing on the back—small and smudged and spidery, a lot like Kade’s. A pair of fools it said. 1833.

Theo rubbed the burned edge of the photo. “I can’t tell if he’s dead yet,” he told Kade. “I keep looking at…at him . I can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell by looking at you, either.” Kade rocked sideways, nudging him. They were both in full sleeves again, long pants and socks. Kade wore a scarf. Both had gloves: Kade’s were black leather, Theo’s the bobbly yellow ones Kade had given him last year. It was one of the only things he’d taken from the house before he moved in with Kade.

Temporarily, of course. Just while he figured out what to do next. Even though both Kade and Sundance told him he could stay however long he wanted.

“He’s dead,” Kade continued. “They—we— they only start spending time together after he’s dead.”

Theo nodded, shoving the photo in his pocket.

Kade cleared his throat. “Are you going to forgive Sparky anytime soon? She looks so sad when she climbs into my bed at night.”

“I forgive her,” Theo replied, frowning. He’d shoved his face in Sparky’s fur that first night, shaking, whispering what a good dog she was, despite everything .

“She’s not sad about me ,” Theo continued. “She’s sad that she obeyed…that she obeyed Victor.”

“Oh. Then why is she sleeping with me?”

Theo thought about lying. It felt useless at this point.

“Because I told her to keep you safe,” he admitted.

Kade looked away again, cheeks heating.

Theo’s mouth watered.

Kade cleared his throat. “So what did you come out here for? You can see the sunset from my house, too. If you go on the roof. You can chill with the wisteria, I know how much you love that stuff.”

Kade eyed the dizzying drop. Then, as if thinking better of it, he shuffled back from the cliff edge, bringing his legs with him. The Kade of a few months ago might have made a game of it, dangling his legs so wildly Theo would threaten to pull him back. But today’s Kade didn’t do this. He looked tired.

Theo could relate. He’d never wanted to sleep more than he had in the last month.

“I wanted to try something,” Theo said. He reached over and picked up the fabric scissors.

Kade sucked in a nervous breath.

“Relax,” Theo told him. He reached up to his head, taking one of his blond curls and cutting it at the base. Then he let the curl go and watched it drift over the sunset-heavy lake.

Kade’s breath left him in a whoosh. “Shit, sunshine. You freaked me out. I can do that. ”

Theo hesitated. Then he handed the scissors over.

Kade took them, fitting his gloved hands easily through the handle. “All of it?”

Theo nodded, throat thick.

Kade cut another curl. Then another. Blond strands drifted out over the lake, curl after curl after curl. An endless forest of hair drifting off the cliff and landing in the water.

Theo’s eyes itched. “Is it working?”

Kade snipped another curl off and let the breeze catch it.

“Kade,” Theo said. “Is it working?”

Kade didn’t answer.

Theo reached up and ran his hands through his hair. His perfectly intact curls, which had stayed the same length since he died. The same curls as his dad, the same as his mom if she dyed and curled it like she had been doing for the past two decades. The hair Victor had ruffled so many times while Theo tensed, waiting for his grip to turn tight.

“It’s pretty cool actually,” Kade said, too fast. “Like—holy vampire powers, batman. Immediate hair growth. Doctors hate him—oh shit.”

The first sob made Theo curl over, shaking with it. Cold black tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Shit,” Kade repeated. He dropped the scissors and rubbed a gloved hand into Theo’s back, voice soothing and a little panicked. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s gonna be fine. ”

Theo wanted to laugh. But he couldn’t do anything except sob, deep and desperate, dropping his head against Kade’s fabric-clad shoulder.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried. Long enough to stain Kade’s shirt black, the fabric sticking oily and black to his skin. Long enough for the sun to almost disappear into the horizon.

Kade glanced over the cliff Theo was dangling his legs over. “God. I’m glad you’re finally letting it out, but could we do this further away from the cliff? C’mere, sunshine.”

He guided Theo as he crawled back from the edge until Kade’s shoulders relaxed.

“There we go,” Kade said again. He reached up like he was going to pull Theo’s head back to his shoulder. Then he stopped, flexing his hand in midair. He’d tucked his sleeves into his gloves. It looked silly, but it meant there was less chance of accidental skin contact.

Kade ran a cautious hand through Theo’s hair, pulling out unattached strands left behind from the failed haircut.

“Tell me about plants,” he said.

Theo snorted bitterly, wiping his cheeks. Sundance had assured him he’d feel better after a good cry. He felt like a cored apple.

“I can tell you about a flower,” he rasped. He dug in his pocket and brought out the lighter he’d meant to give Kade that day in the woods.

Kade took it and held it up to the light. The metal glinted: a snake baring its fangs one side, its tail turning into flowers on the other.

“It’ll help me die faster,” Kade said, remembering. “You know I don’t have to use this to smoke, right? I can…light fires for, like, s’mores. I can light candles.”

He smiled. The small, pleased curl of his mouth made Theo wonder how anybody could ever be scared of him. This jagged boy who embroidered a mouse in the pocket of his ripped jeans so he could look inside and see a little buddy. Who stayed up late to fix his aunt’s work shirt and brought cheap steak to mix into Sparky’s kibble.

“He looks like a fun guy,” Kade said, tapping the snarling snake. “What are the flowers?”

Theo twisted the lighter, knitted gloves brushing Kade’s leather ones.

“We call it the fang orchid,” Theo explained. “It looks like a snake, so animals will think it’s dangerous. But it isn’t.”

Kade ducked his head. The blush was back. Theo watched it bloom, hungry for things beyond blood.

“Thanks, sunshine,” Kade said softly. He ran his gloved thumb over the snake’s face, trailing it all the way over the other side to meet the flower petals.

“I promise not to lose it like my last three lighters,” Kade continued, and tucked it into his pocket. Theo was tempted to leave it like that—let Kade walk him home, sit him on the couch and watch mindless TV like they’d been doing every day since he moved in. But Theo wanted to tell him. There was nothing holding him back anymore.

“Kade,” he said, and swallowed. “You know how you said I wouldn’t kiss you even if I could?”

Kade froze. His shoulders lifted back up, like Theo had just dragged them back toward the cliff and forced Kade to look over the terrifying drop. Then he steeled himself.

“Uh,” Kade said. “Yeah? Why?”

“I was surprised when you said that,” Theo admitted. “I thought it was obvious. Especially after this summer. I’m really crazy about you. Not because I need your blood or because we’re…”

He touched his pocket to feel the photograph tucked inside.

“Trapped together,” he finished. “I’m crazy about you because you’re sweet. And smart. And caring. You’re so soft under all those spikes. You try to hide it because so many people give you shit for it, but I see you, and you’re…you’re so beautiful, man.”

Kade’s eyes were wide. His lips parted, pink and chapped and making Theo ache.

“I’d kiss you every day if I could,” Theo admitted. “Every day.”

Kade’s heart skipped a beat. Theo heard it: a short, sharp pause before it slammed into action again, beating in double time. Kade looked exactly how Theo pictured when he’d imagined this over the last few weeks: dazed, pleased, disbelieving. Then, finally, drowning everything else out: devastated.

Theo expected it to stop there. They couldn’t be together, not in the way they both wanted. But Kade’s face changed into something steely and determined.

“Kiss me now.”

Theo stared at him. “It’d hurt.”

“It hurts when you don’t kiss me,” Kade said, and grinned. It wobbled at the edges. He pulled off his scarf, the same one he’d used to hide his burns before they figured out Theo could heal them. He turned around, the back of his neck pale and unblemished and waiting.

Theo leaned in.

Kade’s neck blistered the second Theo kissed it. Still he lingered, basking in Kade’s metallic softness and listening to Kade’s breath hitch.

Finally he leaned back. The kiss mark was raw and shiny on Kade’s neck. Theo started pulling off his glove, ready to heal it.

Kade caught his arm. “Don’t. I want to keep it.”

Theo looked at the leather covering Kade’s hand. Somewhere under there was that burn from the forest after they fought Hawthorn. A keepsake, he’d told Theo a few nights ago when Theo ran into him in the kitchen. I wanted proof you’d touched me. Even if it hurt.

Kade pushed himself up with a sigh. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Theo stood, glancing back at the house where it had all happened. There was still a hole in the ceiling where Victor had shoved him into the plaster. Another hole in the floorboards. Theo had only been back in the house once, and that was to rescue his plants.

“Theo,” Kade prompted. He took Theo’s hand, rough leather against knitted wool.

“Right,” Theo said. “Coming.”

They set off toward the woods. Theo watched the scorch mark gleam on the back of Kade’s neck, thinking of burn cream and lumpy couches and doting dogs, but mostly of kisses.

He was going to kiss Kade. The decision sunk deep, making a home in his bones: even if it was the last thing he ever did, Theo would find a way to kiss that boy without hurting him.