Vampires Never Get Old - Zoraida Cordova Page 0,7

there like some couture model. Seti lay on her stomach on the bed, legs up, feet kicking slowly back and forth. She smiled at me triumphantly.

I said, “Is grief like anger? Will I take it with me?”

Esmael said, “Come here, and I’ll show you, instead, how it’s all just love.”

That was definitely a line, but I believed it, too.

CREATION MYTHS Or Where Do Baby Vampires Come From?

Zoraida Córdova & Natalie C. Parker

Like so many supernatural creatures of the night, there are rules around the creation of a vampire. Those rules are rarely the same from story to story. In some traditions, all it takes is a bite from a vampire and, presto chango, you become a blood-sucking fiend! In some, you have to exchange blood with a vampire, in others a curse will do it, and in still others if a wolf leapt across your grave you would rise up as a vampire. The stories we tend to be most familiar with involve some kind of transformation: from human to vampire, good to evil, living to undead. Sometimes the choice isn’t up to the one going through the change. What we love about Tessa’s story is how the choice is completely up to our heroine and how she doesn’t have to make it in an instant, but over a span of seven nights.

If you had the choice, would you want to live forever?

THE BOYS FROM BLOOD RIVER

Rebecca Roanhorse

“It’s just a song, Lukas,” Neveah says, her voice heavy with disdain. “Nobody believes the Blood River Boys will actually appear if you sing it.” She leans a plump hip against the old-fashioned jukebox that squats in the corner of Landry’s Diner and runs a bright blue fingernail down the playlist, looking for just the right song to get us through after-hours cleanup.

I lean on the mop in my hands and watch her. She’s so confident. So easy in her body. Where I’m … not. I’m too skinny, too gangly, too tall. Caught somewhere between a baby bird and Slender Man, if Slender Man were a pock-faced sixteen-year-old boy whose hair wouldn’t lie flat no matter how much gel he slathered on it. If Slender Man weren’t even the least bit cool.

“Your brother believes,” I offer.

She shakes her head. “Honestly, Brandon is the last person in the world who knows anything about the history of Blood River, much less about the Boys.”

Her eyes dart to me and then quickly away. I know she’s avoiding looking directly at me, as if not making eye contact will mean she doesn’t have to acknowledge the purpling bruise circling my left eye. As if not seeing my black eye means I don’t actually have one.

But not acknowledging something doesn’t make it go away. Most of the time it makes it worse.

“You don’t believe in the Boys, do you?” Neveah asks me.

Neveah works here at the diner with me, and she’s the closest thing I have to a friend, but even she’s not my friend. Not really. She’s older than me, almost graduated from the community college, whereas I have another full year of high school. If I were going to classes, that is. I’m pretty close to dropping out. Neveah’s smart, way smarter than me. But she’s wrong about the Boys.

“Brandon sure knew all the details,” I challenge nervously. I don’t want to make her mad at me. She’s pretty much the only person in this town who even talks to me. But she’s wrong. I know it. “Their escape, their hideout up by the old mine, the things they did when the townspeople came for them.”

“What about the song?” she asks, eyes focused back on the jukebox. “Do you believe that part?”

“No.” That was the least plausible part. But even as I say no, I wish I were saying yes. “But—”

“Shhh … Here’s my jam.” She punches the little white button, and after a few seconds a song starts. But it’s not the one I expected.

The slow moan of a fiddle wails from the jukebox, joined by the heavy thump of a washboard drum and then a banjo, picked strings as soft as a weeping woman. And a man sings: “As I walked by the river, the moon my companion, I spied a young fellow, an amiable lad…”

Neveah frowns. “This isn’t the song I picked.” She slams a hand against the side of the jukebox, but the song plays on.

“He’d the face of an angel but the heart of a demon, and that night he did

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