“No, and if you tel them, I’l superglue your fingertips to your keyboard.”
A tic started in Madaug’s jaw as his cheeks turned bright red. “Mom said if you ever do that again, she’s going to shave your head while you sleep.”
“Children!” Bubba shouted. “There are dangerous creatures out there. Let’s go get them.”
Madaug took a step for the door.
Bubba pul ed him to a stop and forced him back toward the storeroom. “Not you. We need you to stay here and keep working on a cure.”
Caleb looked at Nick. “You ready for this?” Nick checked his watch. “Only for the next forty-five minutes.
After that I get grounded.”
“C’mon, Cinderel a. Let’s get started before you turn into a pumpkin.” Caleb led him out of the store and down the street, toward their high school, which made sense since it was where al of this started.
And my worst fear this morning was being late. . . .
Who knew he’d end up having to be afraid of having his brains ripped out and devoured?
Wonder if I should start carrying a chainsaw to school?
That wasn’t listed on their anti-weapons list. …
As they walked, his thoughts went to Madaug and his family.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that Madaug’s brother doesn’t go to school with us?”
Caleb put his hands in his back pockets. “Probably too dumb to get in.”
“You think?”
“Genetics doesn’t always rule intel ect. Believe me. I come from a long line of real y stupid people. Scares me that I swim in their gene pool. Yet here I am, a hel of a lot smarter than they are.”
Nick didn’t even want to think about his gene pool for fear of the infection it might contain. He lived in constant terror that one day a switch would turn on in his head and make him the monster his father was. Every time he tried to talk to his mom about it, she told him he was ridiculous. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something inside him dying to get out. Something sinister, cold, and unfeeling.
“You have any sibs?” he asked Caleb, trying to distract himself from that line of thought.
“Not ful -blooded. I real y don’t count the others. What about you?”
“No.”
Caleb nodded. “So what does your dad do, Nick?”
“I don’t talk about my dad.” To anyone. Bubba and Mark were the only two who knew his dad was a felon. To the rest of the world, he never said anything. “He’s not part of our lives and I want to keep it that way.”
“I understand. Don’t have much to do with mine either.”
“Why not?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But that’s okay. That which doesn’t kil us just requires a few centuries of therapy.”
“Yeah, and usual y a lot of Tylenol.”
Caleb laughed. “Hey, I tel you what, if we spread out, we can cover more ground. Want to meet back up at the cathedral?”
“Sure.”
“Al right. I’l see you there.”
Nick headed down the side street that would connect him to Bourbon, which was thronging with people who could be the next victims. Like you could tell the difference between a zombie and a drunk tourist?
That would be chal enging. But if he were a zombie looking for business, that’s where he’d head. And as he’d noted, they would blend in seamlessly there.
As he walked down the street, he noticed that the buzzing in the street lamps was getting louder. He slowed as he came even to the Lalaurie mansion—the most haunted and evilest place in al of New Orleans. If there was such a thing as a hel -
mouth, this place stood on it. Ever since he was a kid, it’d given him the creeps.
Tonight more so than normal.
A sudden wind whipped down the street, stirring his hair and raising a chil on his neck as a huge raven flew over his head to land on the upper wrought-iron balcony where it seemed to stare down at him.
I know I sound crazy, but I swear that bird is watching me.
It cocked its head. Yeah, that’s eerie as all get out. Just like the building itself.
In that house, dozens of people had been brutal y tortured and murdered in ways his mom wouldn’t even talk about.
Every family who’d owned it since the Lalauries had reported seeing and hearing the ghosts of those who’d lost their lives to Delphine Lalaurie’s psychotic cruelty. Something that had been so atrocious her own cook had set fire to the kitchen, trying to kil herself to escape the madwoman.
Even the seasoned firemen who were used to dealing with death and gore had vomited when they’d uncovered the mutilated victims Delphine had left behind.
Help me. . . .
Nick turned around, trying to see who had spoken. It sounded like a child’s voice.
I’m so scared. Why can’t I see? Is anyone there?
“I’m here,” Nick cal ed. “Where are you?” Disembodied laughter rang out. The light above him shattered.
Cursing, Nick jumped back as glass rained down on him.
He saw the shadow of a little girl by the side of the house.