Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1)
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“Don’t let their party line fool you,” he told her. “The Grove doesn’t care about the balance. They don’t care about dark and light. They don’t care about good versus evil. The Grove cares about power and you, sweet girl, are powerful.”

She said nothing for a long time. They both pretended not to notice as she leaned against him. She let herself imagine it was her magic clinging to his and nothing more.

Romero’s heavy panting had a sort of hypnotic rhythm to it. His white fur was clean and fluffy but his bath revealed his left paw was little more than raw tendon and bone. He didn’t seem bothered by it but it must hurt.

“Do you think he’s sad?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“He looks sad to me. Do you think he was happy on the other side and I ripped him from, like, doggie heaven?” She refused to look at him as she spoke.

He looked over at the dog. “He doesn’t look sad. He looks pensive, like he’s got a lot of heavy thoughts on his mind. Maybe you just raised a very introspective dog.”

“You still think he’s going to die?” she asked, stomach clenching at the thought.

“He’s already dead,” he told her. “You’re magic should wear off eventually and when it does, he will return to the other side,” his voice wasn’t unkind.

“You said he would be gone before sundown.”

“Yes, I did. It appears I was wrong. As I said, you are more powerful than you know. But, a reanimator’s magic will always wear off eventually.”

“Is there anything I can do about his paw?”

“Our magic deals with the soul, not the body.” His lip curled in a sneer, “For that, you need a witch.”

“I don’t have one of those handy.”

He was quiet for a while, eyes roaming her features. “Technically, you do.”

She wrinkled her brow, “Huh?”

“Your uncle. He’d help you if you asked.”

“Even if I’m not a witch?”

“I don’t know, Luv, but it’s worth a try.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of asking her uncle for anything. With her uncle came Astrid and Allister and even Stella. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“It’s late. Don’t you have school in the morning?”

She shrugged, “We both have school in the morning and also, I’m pretty sure it is morning. Besides, I don’t want to go to sleep. I think the sun will be up soon.”

He propped his feet up on the table in front of them, she followed suit. She let herself lean heavier against him, dropping her head against his chest, eyes heavy. It took her a moment to realize that there was no sound.

“You really don’t have a heartbeat.”

“No, I don’t. It’s a side effect of being dead.”

She sucked in a breath at that information. No wonder his skin was so cool.

“But you breathe, I can feel it.”

“Reflex. Habit mostly. If I was to be in a situation where my oxygen supply stopped, I’d be fine.”

“Being supernatural is so weird.”

“Mm,” he agreed. She felt his cheek resting against her hair and she opted to forget the real world, just for the morning. She could be herself when the sun came up. The real world would still be there.

38

TRISTIN

T
ristin woke before the others, flipping on the tiny coffee maker and hopping in the shower. She woke her brother with a pillow to the face. “What the hell, Tristin.”

“Get up, shower. We need to somehow make you presentable enough to get the gatekeeper’s attention.” She wasn’t in the mood for her brother’s lollygagging about. They had things to do today.

Quinn woke, bleary eyed, hair standing on end like a baby chick. He rubbed his eyes. “Coffee,” he croaked. “My kingdom for a coffee.”

Rhys was quiet but that was hardly unusual. He stalked around the small room, taking up more space than the others, still shirtless.

Once Kai showered, she forced her brother to sit as she attempted to make him look…well, pretty. When she was done, Quinn whistled and Rhys refused to look at him, which was the only real confirmation Tristin needed. Tristin pronounced him fit for seduction and they piled into the Suburban once more.

Navigating a college campus seemed much easier in teen movies and television shows. The campus was the size of four Belle Haven city blocks and looked like it should have its own subway line. There were students everywhere, playing Frisbee, riding bikes, clutching coffee cups and toting laptop bags. They scurried around in ratty clothes and pajama pants.

The global apathy by the student body annoyed Tristin. Kai didn’t seem to share her opinion, head on a swivel as he took it all in, elbowing Quinn occasionally to show him something noteworthy.

They went virtually unnoticed on the large campus and it took an hour of asking around before anybody knew where to find Professor Denning’s old office.

As Ember predicted, a young good-looking man sat just inside the doorway marking the office. A pretty blonde girl leaned over the desk partially obscuring their view. “So, are you coming to the party tonight?” she asked.

“I doubt it. I can’t keep going out like this. Some nights, I don’t even remember how I got back to my room, if I even wake up in my room.”

The girl sighed, “Ugh, fine. Be that way, text me when you change your mind.”

The four of them ducked back as the girl left, staying hidden until she turned the corner.

Tristin stared at the guy. He was tall and lanky with light brown hair, wire rimmed glasses and a sad attempt at facial hair. He was wearing a bow tie and a short-sleeved shirt that should have looked ridiculous but instead looked fashion forward. Now that he was alone, he clutched a pen between his perfect teeth and was very interested in whatever he was reading. Her brother’s eyes were downright predatory as he took it all in. Yeah, Kai faking interest wouldn’t be too hard.

“What are you going to say to him to get him out of there?”

“I don’t know. He’s cute. I’ll wing it,” Kai shrugged.

“He looks like Quinn,” Rhys noted, scowl firmly in place.

Tristin snickered, “Well then this should be even easier. These two have been secretly in love with each other for years.”

Kai smiled at Quinn and winked, “Who said it’s a secret?”

“Aw, thanks, buddy.”

“Could you get on with it please? We have to be home in time for work,” Rhys grumbled.

Kai checked his reflection in the glass, straightening his shirt. He could pass for a college student. He walked past the door as if he was walking down the hallway, then popped back.

“Hey, there you are.”

The other man looked up, surprised by his appearance. “Hi?”

“Eric, right?”

Tristin watched the other man’s gaze rake over her brother, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, can I help you?”

“I hope so,” Kai told him, sounding shy. She tried not to snort at that, “I’m Chris. You don’t remember me, do you? Six months ago, the thing after that party?”

Tristin cringed at the suggestive nature of her brother’s tone. It was a pretty big gamble. There was a long pause, “Oh, yeah, sure, right. Chris. Of course, I remember. How could I forget anybody with eyes as pretty as yours?”

Eric certainly wasn’t one for subtlety. Her brother laughed and leaned forward, blocking their view of Eric. Rhys huffed and rolled his eyes. She patted him on the shoulder absently. She didn’t have time to stroke his ego today.

“Listen, I’m just here for the day. I’m working on a project relating to Celtic mythology and death rituals and I wondered if maybe you would let me buy you some coffee and pick your brain a bit? You knew so much about it last time we talked.”

“I’d love to but…” Eric trailed off, looking around the mess of the front office.

“Oh, no it’s cool. I understand if you’re too busy,” Kai told him, disappointment seeping into his voice. Even Tristin had to roll her eyes at that. Her brother was quite the actor.

“No. No. It’s fine. I can finish this up later.” She heard the chair scrape back, “I mean, I only have you for one day. I have the rest of the semester to finish cleaning out a dead man’s office.”

They, once again, hid as the two left. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d stumbled into a Nancy Drew novel as they stood there flattened against a wall in an otherwise empty hallway. Steam practically poured out of the Rhys’ ears.

She shook her head.

She sent a quick text to her brother to remind him to text when they were on their way back. They agreed Rhys would keep watch of the hallway. They passed through the doorway to the left of Eric’s desk and closed the door behind them.

The professor’s office was a disaster. Half-filled cardboard boxes covered every surface. There were papers strewn everywhere. An inch of dust sat on the tiffany style lamp on his desk. Her nose twitched at the heavy herbal smell that permeated the room. It was flowery and cloying, like an old woman wearing too much expensive perfume. It made her head swim.

“What is that smell?” she asked.

“It’s not one smell,” Quinn blinked. “He was doing some serious conjuring in here. Marjoram, patchouli, star anise maybe?”

“I’ll take the desk, you start with what’s left on the shelves. Will you be able to tell what’s real and what’s not?”

“I think so,” he shrugged, turning away from her.

She pulled open the top drawer of the desk, rifling through pens and random sticky notes with strange cryptic messages. Some didn’t even look like English. She put them aside to show Quinn. There was a picture of a little girl with a gap in her teeth and bright red hair shoved towards the back of the drawer. Somebody had smeared a reddish black substance around the photograph. Tristin looked at it for a long time, recognizing Ember’s face from her dream.

The second drawer proved just as fruitless; an old magazine, a black binder full of empty loose-leaf paper and two unopened packs of gum. She pushed the drawer shut with more force than was necessary. It rattled. Something rolled across the bottom of the drawer.

She opened the drawer again, removing everything and examining the bottom. There was a tiny dent in the wood. She used the letter opener to dig at it, cackling when the wood gave, revealing a secret compartment. They really were in a Nancy Drew novel. Underneath the panel was a vial, a ritual knife, a chalice, a small jar and a flask. She picked up the vial and opened it.

“Look at this,” she told him.

He peered over her shoulder. “It looks like the items they give you at the start of a video game,” he picked up the black sea salt. She showed him the vial, “Poppy seed? Well, he was definitely using black magic.” He opened the flask and inhaled, choking at the smell, “That is not booze. Wow, we know what that smell is. If he was drinking this, he must have an iron stomach.” He tucked the flask in his back pocket.

“Are these anything?” Quinn looked over the sticky notes, “I don’t think so. It doesn’t look alchemical. It looks like gibberish. Do we know if this guy was, ya know, all there?”

“No idea. Ember doesn’t seem real fond of talking about him.”

Twenty minutes into their ransacking Quinn let out a triumphant noise, pulling a book from a pile stuffed behind an old leather chair. She watched fascinated as he opened the book and started to scan page after page with robotic precision. She couldn’t imagine a reality where her brain would ever work like that. It was more supernatural to her than her own magic. She barely passed pre-algebra.

She proceeded to continue her search, periodically checking his progress. When she glanced up, he was staring at her, “What?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, going back to his reading.

She stared at him for a long minute before returning to her task. He was so weird. She didn’t understand his fascination with her or his insistence that they were fated to be together. Even the wolves didn’t believe in true mates anymore. It was simply a myth they’d used to keep bloodlines pure back when that was all anybody thought was important.

She watched as he pushed his glasses up his nose. It would be nice though, to think there was somebody out there fated to love you no matter what. Even if you weren’t as smart or funny or beautiful as other girls; even if you weren’t happy and bouncy all the time. She watched as his tongue flicked over his lower lip as he concentrated. In another world, she could see staring at his stupid face forever.

He looked up, smiling as he caught her staring. Her breath hitched; face flushing. Her phone chirped an alert. She thumbed open the screen.

“They are on their way back. Hurry up.”

Quinn flipped through ten more pages before sticking the book down his back, tucked into his jeans. He arranged his flannel shirt to cover it.

“What are you doing? We can’t take that home.”

“We can’t take it home but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep it somewhere more centrally located. Even I can’t read this entire book in one sitting. We will put it somewhere only we can find it.”

She nodded, stomach knotting in fear. Even holding that book made her nervous, but maybe something in there could save her brother, could save all of them. They were too young to deal with the Grove.

She shook the thought away as they made their way out of the office and back to the hallway just around the corner. Rhys tensed, lips tightened. Her brother must be close.

Footsteps came towards them, “Can I see you again?” Eric asked her brother.

“Um, honestly, I’m not sure. I can call you the next time I’m in town.”

“Well then, I guess I shouldn’t waste any time.”

There was a startled breathy sound from her brother, followed by kissing noises. Rhys growled low in his throat. She elbowed him so hard he grunted, even if the last thing she wanted to hear was her brother kissing somebody.

“Definitely call me,” Eric said, sounding a little dazed. She smiled. Way to go, brother.

Quinn stifled his laugh, biting down on his lip so hard there would be permanent damage.

Her brother managed to mumble, “Yeah, sure. Totally. Thanks for the help.”

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