Vampires, Hearts & Other Dead Things by Margie Fuston

Author:Margie Fuston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
Published: 2021-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

You dress me like a doll.

You make my hair like a doll. Why?

You want me to be a doll forever?

—Interview with the Vampire

Eleven

Henry yells something beside me, but I can’t make out the words.

I grip the envelope, smooth and solid in my fingertips, and then a palm shoves me in the center of my chest. My foot catches on the railing behind me, and I stumble backward onto my butt, scrambling to pull my feet off the tracks as the whole ground shakes and the train screams. When I finally look up, Henry’s staring at me from the other side of the track, Daniella gripping his forearm and grinning as if she’s stolen something precious from me. I feel sick.

Then the train tears between us. The wind from it whips my hair away from my face, and I can barely breathe from the power of it. My lungs burn, and then it’s gone.

The other side of the track is desolate and dark.

I pull myself to my feet. My fingers shake as I rip into the envelope and yank out the slender white card. It’s too dark to read, so I pull out my phone to light the curving black print:

Find the dead Southern belle and ask for a dance.

A simple address would have been nice.

I peer into the dark, longing to ask Henry his advice. They can’t have gone far. Perhaps I could find them and take back what I did, but I’m not sure I would—I’m playing a game, after all, and I’m not the rule maker.

I text Henry: Are you okay?

I get back an immediate reply: Henry can’t come to the phone right now.

How the heck did she get his phone from him?

I pray he’s okay before I remember prayer let me down recently. I think of the cathedral, invisible from here, just out of sight and always out of reach.

I want to lie down and vomit.

I kick at the gravel as I shuffle back to the train terminal.

“Bad day?” His voice makes me jump, like it usually does. He really likes sneaking up on people.

I’m still a few feet away from the terminal when I lift my head and glimpse Carter’s pointed black boots at my eye level. I have to crane my neck to see his smirk.

“I’m peachy.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

He nods toward my legs, but there’s not a single visible drop of blood on the front of them. I can feel the cuts on the back though.

“How—” I cut myself off. I don’t need to say it out loud. Maybe he saw me fall and assumed I got cut, but I bet he can smell it.

He smiles.

“You know, my day would get a lot better if you’d just give me what I came for.”

He tilts his head like he’s actually considering it. “Right now watching you is more fun than eating you.”

My pulse jumps.

“Besides,” he continues, “this is Nicholas’s game. I wouldn’t want to steal his fun.” He bends over and holds a pale white hand out to me.

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