Page 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
One year and three days before the boy dies, he crouches in the bushes to listen.
A twig pokes at his newly stubbled cheek. He ignores it. He is unkept and underfed. He was making his daily slog home through the woods when he heard angry voices and—on instinct—dropped to his belly in the dirt to listen.
The group has been in town for two years. They are moneyed and educated, but most of them have laborers’ hands. They are a strange and brutal bunch, and they have been meeting in the woods to whisper things they won’t tell the town about.
The leader of the group is whispering, but he’s getting angrier and louder with each sentence. His wife stands before him, not cowering like the boy is used to seeing, but meeting her husband’s eyes steadily.
“How dare you consider such a thing,” the leader hisses, clenching the sun necklace dangling around his neck. “She is our pride and joy, and you would have her fighting these vile things? She must be protected!”
“She must be ready ,” his wife replies evenly. “Who are you to decide who gets to fight?”
A voice speaks up softly behind the boy. “What are you doing on this side of town?”
He barely manages to hold in a shriek. He turns to see a blond girl crawl under the bush with him, settling her sharp chin on his shoulder.
He hisses, shaking her off. “What are you doing? You’re getting your expensive dress dirty. Your high and mighty father will have your head.”
The girl smiles, whip-sharp. She is sixteen, only a few weeks older than him. She got a cake from the baker and that pretty dress her mother ordered all the way from England. The boy heard stories about it while he dug in the baker’s trash the next day, looking for burned bread. She invited him, to his surprise. He was too busy looking after his ailing mother to attend.
“Then hush and he won’t hear you,” the girl tells him, eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them in school. “Mother told me the truth of their demented whispers. She showed me the most terrifying photographs.”
The boy looks up at the group leader—the girl’s high and mighty father—who has turned from his wife, wiping spittle from his beard. He looks angry and ashamed.
The group moves away from the bush, toward the woods. The leader of the group grows hushed as they walk away.
The boy sighs, turning in the dirt to face the girl. “And? ”
“And they aren’t as demented as we thought. The scourge they whisper about when they think we cannot hear—it isn’t demons or spirits. It’s vampires. They’re going to banish them from the town, and I’m going to help.”
The boy laughs as loud as he dares.
The girl doesn't join in.
The boy’s smile dims. “You aren’t serious. Vampires are just fairy stories from back home.”
She cocks her blond head, which becomes more dirt-smeared with each tiny movement.
“And the murders?” she asks, keeping her voice low as her parents and their group move out of earshot. “Those tears in their neck, they’re the work of a beast, I suppose? Do you believe everything the preacher tells you?”
The boy scoffs. He hasn’t listened to a word the preacher says since he arrived in this godforsaken town.
The girl grips his hand. Her skin is newly blistered. You would have her fighting these vile things, her father had hissed.
“I’ve seen them,” she says. “They’re real. I’ve been training in secret.”
“You’re too wild,” the boy whispers, unable to hold back a disbelieving smile.
“Says you,” she replies, flashing her white teeth. “I’m going to help rid the town of this scourge.”
A voice pipes up from beyond the bushes: “Do we have a new scourge in town? I was hoping with the illness, the poverty and the strange murders, we were all full up.”
The boy groans and crawls out of the bush.
“You’ d know all about poverty, sir,” he says as he pushes himself to his feet, brushing dirt off his thin breeches.
The vampire smiles at him. He has not been dead long. There’s a flower in his hand.
The boy notices none of this. The vampire was in the boy’s class at school, before the boy left to find work. They arrived in this fledgling town around the same time, but their paths never crossed. Not until three months ago.
At first the boy thought he was being attacked. A mysterious figure followed him through the dark. When the boy tried to run, he slipped on the mud near the lake. As he lay there, ears ringing, blood dripping into his eyes, he watched the vampire loom over him and thought of those dark creatures his mother whispered bedtime stories about.
The boy closed his eyes, waiting to be eaten up.
Then the vampire spoke. “Are you planning on sleeping there or will you let me help you up?”
The boy opened his eyes. The vampire had a hand extended, smiling so beautifully that the boy’s heart spasmed in his chest.
The vampire has called on the boy twice a week since then. Always after dark, always in secret. The boy understands. It wouldn’t do for a nobleman’s boy to be seen with a peasant like him.
The girl stands up from the bush, brushing twigs from her dress.
“Poverty indeed,” the girl says, giving the vampire a short curtsey. She glances back at the boy curiously before following her father’s odd group into the woods .
The boy nervously adjusts his dirty shirt. “What happened to not being seen in public together?”
“She’ll keep it quiet. It’s not like there’s anyone else around.” The vampire’s gaze lingers on the group retreating into the woods, the girl’s parents among them. “Ah. Another secret meeting. What do they discuss, I wonder?”
The boy shakes his head. He notices the flower in the vampire’s hand, and his heart jumps in his chest.
“What’s this?”
The vampire sees him staring and grins. “Come and see me tonight. Where we first met.”
He gives the boy the flower. It’s a forget-me-not, its petals fresh and white.
The boy takes it. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever been given. He thinks about saying so, then says instead: “Sounds dangerous. Haven’t you heard? There are monsters about.”
“I’ll protect you.” The vampire smiles, and the boy’s heart flutters.
“You make me feel like I’m in a dream,” the boy says, and then grimaces. “Bloody hell. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“No,” the vampire says, surprised by how much he wants to hear the boy say it again. Mostly, he is surprised by how desperately he doesn’t want the boy to die.
He reaches out, taking the boy’s hand.
“A dream,” he echoes. “I hope we never ? —
—wake up.”
Kade wrenched his eyes open .
Theo loomed over him, expression set in such beautiful worry that Kade forgot how to breathe. Blond curls fell wildly over his forehead. A splinter nestled in the biggest curl, a memento from punching a tree. Kade had wanted to point it out when he noticed it in the light of the kitchen, but he hadn’t had a chance.
For a second Theo was the only thing that existed, and Kade relaxed.
Then he blinked. His vision cleared. Sparky was lying beside him, his head on Kade’s chest. The Fletchers stood behind Theo, parents crowding around their bleeding son in the hallway. Carol Fairgood was next to them, hands trembling around a dripping pitcher of lemonade that made Kade suddenly aware of how thirsty he was.
“Can I have some lemonade?” Kade croaked.
Theo’s grip loosened. He was holding Kade’s jacket, the leather creaking in his grip. Some of the worry flooded out of his face, replaced by an exasperation Kade was much more familiar with. Then Mrs. Fletcher took a step forward, and Theo whipped around.
“He needs air,” he said.
Mrs. Fletcher stumbled back. “Right.”
Carol spoke up. “Should I call someone?”
“Does he get to go to the hospital?” Aaron asked, voice thin with disbelief. He cradled his punctured hand to his chest. Blood dripped into the sleeve of his nice shirt, soaking it up to the elbow .
“No,” Theo answered. “He’s fine. I’ll take him home.”
He turned back to Kade, motioning for Sparky to get up. She did, but not without giving Kade’s cheek a meaty lick. Kade shivered and wiped his face. His hand came away streaked with spit and sweat and Aaron’s blood.
“Come on,” Theo whispered. “Can you walk?”
“You have wood in your hair,” Kade muttered.
Theo frowned. “What?”
Kade shook his head and pushed himself up, leaving smears of sweat on the shiny floor. He wobbled, and Theo’s grip tightened once more around his jacket. Just for a moment. Then he stepped back, posture becoming cool and unaffected like it did at school, hands dropping from Kade’s jacket like they had never wrinkled the leather.
Sparky sat on Kade’s lap on the way home. Neither of them wanted to leave her in that house where she’d just bitten someone.
“They just said something about my dad,” Theo said distractedly, picking the wood splinters out of his hair. “I’ll tell you later. What was that ? Did you see something?”
Kade nodded. He slapped himself in the face—ignoring Sparky’s concerned whine and Theo’s muttered what the hell— trying to make himself feel less asleep.
Theo pulled into the street.
“Lights,” Kade reminded him.
Theo swore and flicked them on.
Kade sighed into his hands. “Okay. Theory time. The visions I’ve been having are the memories from the last guy who got chosen for my spot in the ritual.”
“Okay,” Theo replied, significantly slower than Kade. He kept glancing at Kade in the backseat as they drove, like he expected Kade to pass out under Sparky’s furry bulk. “Why do you think that all of a sudden?”
“It just…” Kade wiped his sweaty forehead. “It felt like memories. It was clearer than the time at the tree. I think the memories are what I’ve been having bad dreams about. The ones I can’t remember.”
“What did you see?”
Kade squeezed his eyes shut. Something about a bush. Something about a flower.
“There was a boy,” he started. “About our age. He hasn’t been bound to the ritual yet, but it’s…it’s gonna happen. And there’s a vampire, I think he’s got your role. Will have it.”
Theo nodded. The woods blurred around them, too fast. Kade sunk his hands into Sparky’s fur, trying to make his heart stop racing. Sometimes he didn’t have a problem with speeding cars. Other times it made his throat close up. Which was stupid, since his mom had been driving at a perfectly reasonable speed when she smashed into another car. He wasn’t even with her. She’d forgotten to pick him up from school .
“What did they look like?” Theo asked. “What were their names? We’ll look them up, find out what happened. If we’re lucky someone will have written down how they stopped the ritual.”
Kade closed his eyes, focusing on the vision. Trying to make any of the faces come into his mind. As soon as they started to form, a dark cloud blotted them out.
“It’s…” Kade sighed. “I can’t see. I can’t even remember what they sounded like. It’s like somebody doesn’t want me to know.”
Houses and buildings blurred past, almost as fast as the trees. Theo had slowed down once he hit civilization.
Kade’s eyelids sagged, head drooping to rest against the window. Sparky was a warm weight in his lap and Theo’s Lexus was so smooth as it glided through town toward Kade’s house.
“They’re not always bad,” he muttered as sleep tugged at him. “The dreams. Sometimes I wake up and I’m so happy and I don’t know why.”
Theo didn’t respond. Kade lifted his heavy head and saw Theo staring out beyond the headlights, into the dark. He looked numb again, steering wheel flexing dangerously under his hands. It had barely been twenty-four hours since his world fell apart.
Kade sat up with a sigh, shifting Sparky in his lap. “Stay home from school tomorrow. Help me see more visions. We’ll call Milly, she keeps talking about that…cat…thing? ”
“She said it wouldn’t work for you,” Theo replied. His grip loosened on the steering wheel.
“Worth a shot,” Kade said. But there was still that faraway look in Theo’s eyes, so he continued: “You should stay over. Go back, then sneak out once your mom’s asleep.”
That shook some of the numb out of Theo’s expression. He snorted, giving Kade a sideways look.
“And what,” he asked. “Watch you sleep?”
“Ha ha,” Kade said, too loud. “ No . Explore a different patch of woods. Watch movies on my laptop or something.”
Theo’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t squirm, like Kade. You had to really watch him to see all the small, hidden movements that Theo let slip past his cool, confident demeanor.
“Do it for Sparky,” Kade tried. “She’s worried about me. Don’t separate us.”
He lifted her furry face, tilting it toward Theo as he took on a deliberately stupid falsetto. “ Don’t separate us, Theo! I love him! He sneaks me food when you’re not looking! ”
“I knew it,” Theo said. But he was almost smiling, the most genuine smile Kade had gotten out of him all day.
Kade slumped back, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there in the backseat. “Is that a yes?”
Theo didn’t respond. Then he reached into the backseat, scruffing Sparky around the ears. “I can’t say no to that face. ”
Kade’s cheeks heated. He looked out the window at the town blurring past. But he could still see Theo’s hand from the corner of his eye, bare and gentle on Sparky’s soft head.
For once, Kade woke up before his alarm. He was wearing a shirt and boxers. He usually slept just in boxers, but it had felt weird to do that knowing Theo would be around, so he kept the shirt on. He was shockingly warm for this time of the year, and not because of the shirt. Sparky had curled up against him in the night, her muzzle resting on his stomach.
He scratched her neck. “Hey, girl. Sleep well?”
Sparky huffed sleepily, her leg twitching. Still in a dream.
Kade smiled down at her fondly. Then he stretched, yawning. The yawn turned into a scream mid-yawn, producing one of the strangest noises Kade had ever made.
Theo was standing in the doorway, watching them with a bemused expression. He almost looked like the jokey guy from a few days ago who had teased Kade for calling him sunshine .
Kade slouched over a newly awakened Sparky, panting. “Jesus. I was joking about you watching me sleep.”
“I’m not watching,” Theo said hastily. He scratched his head. He didn’t have bedhead, since he never went to bed nowadays. His curls were as perfect as ever. But he’d changed his clothes while Kade slept: he’d picked the U STAY SOFT / U GET EATEN shirt, plus his baggiest pair of sweatpants. The shirt strained around Theo’s chest and arms, which wasn’t a surprise. What was a surprise were the sweatpants, which weren’t baggy at all on him. His thighs filled out the worn gray material, the hemline stretching over his waist. Kade had always assumed their waists were the same size. Was Kade really that skinny?
Theo coughed. “Breakfast is ready.”
Kade ripped his gaze away from Theo’s not-so-small waist, turning to search for his phone so Theo wouldn’t see him blush. Smell him, sure. But Kade had some dignity.
“What?” he said, trying to sound distracted and unfazed, like he hadn’t been perving on his grieving friend. “Sundance has one arm, I told her to take it easy.”
“I made it. And Sundance is calling in sick for you today,” Theo continued. “Remember any dreams?”
“Sure. I had to give a history presentation on shrimp in my aunt’s factory. Also I was naked and no one would give me clothes.”
Sparky licked his cheek. Kade kissed her soft forehead, then asked: “I fell asleep before you got back, did your mom say anything about Sparky?”
“She wants to talk about that after the funeral.” Theo crossed his arms over his chest, so the shirt just read STAY SOFT . “So I have until then to talk her out of putting her down, I guess.”
“She can come live with me,” Kade offered, folding her into his arms. It was a stretch—she just kept growing. “Or, I don’t know. In the woods near your place. I don’t think she’d deal well with being away from you.”
“She could stay with you,” Theo said thoughtfully. “If she has to.”
Sparky looked up at Kade, touching her nose to his chin. Her tail thumped against his thin mattress.
“She’s bound to me,” Kade said. “Right? A little bit? Because of the ritual. She was made because of you, she’s attuned to you, but you’re, like…connected to me with weird, burny vampire magic. So in a way, she’s bound to me, too.”
Theo rubbed a bare foot against the worn carpet. “Uh. I don’t know.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Kade said. “She hates everyone but us. It’s gotta be magic.”
“Gotta be,” Theo said faintly. There was a strange, scrutinizing look on his face as he watched Kade pet Sparky, one that made Kade deeply glad he wore a shirt to bed last night.
He was relieved and disappointed when Theo looked away.
“Anyway,” Theo said hastily. “Breakfast. Hurry up before it gets cold.”
“You can’t even—” Kade stopped before he could say eat it, all too aware of the thin walls in this house. “Sure. Be there in a jiff.”
Theo’s eyes widened. Kade grew suddenly, mortifyingly aware that he’d just said something far too British in front of him.
“ In a jiff, ” Theo repeated, tone that special kind of flat that meant he was going to make fun of Kade for this mercilessly until the end of time.
Kade threw a pillow at him. Theo pulled the door shut with a speed and strength that made it tremble, pillow whacking harmlessly into the wood.
Kade fell back against the bed. He’d get up in a second. For now, he needed to lie here and feel heavy and bittersweet, thinking about his mum and Theo’s mom and wondering how he could get Theo to look like that again: no numbness, no weight on his shoulders. Just tired and smug and maybe a little shy, forgetting for a moment all the horrible things yet to come.
It was the best breakfast the Renfield house had seen in a long time: poached eggs, fried sausage and bacon, sautéed spinach. Even fancy bakery bread, sliced and toasted and smothered in butter.
Sundance offered to pay Theo back for the food he’d brought. But Theo waved her down, insisting it was thanks for being so good to him this summer. Then he fed Sparky his portion under the table while Kade distracted her with a fashion show displaying his latest creations. Kade got the feeling that Sundance had talked to Theo before he woke up, and that was the main reason why Theo had seemed so normal when he invited Kade to breakfast. That, or making food really calmed him down. But based on how Sundance and Theo talked to each other—quiet, jovial, weirdly tender—he was betting on the first option.
Kade’s phone vibrated on the kitchen table. Kade leapt to grab it before Sundance or Theo could see who it was.
It was Milly. If you want Theo to take a day off, the text said, I don’t think we’ll need to deliberately botch it. This probably won’t work.
Bad news for their continued efforts to figure out a way to stop the ritual. Good news for Kade, who was trying to find a way to make Theo chill the hell out with his vengeance quest and take a second to grieve.
“We should go for a walk,” he told Theo.
Theo stood. Sparky stood with him, growling at Sundance when she stretched too close to grab her coffee.
“Easy,” Theo told her. Then, to Kade: “I’ll go get my shoes.”