Vial Things (Resurrectionist #1) - Leah Clifford Page 0,83

Allie. That has to mean something.

It’s all gone wrong. My gut churns. I’ve got a death grip on the door handle, my thumb grinding against the leather. He’d promised me no more killing. So why had he taken both girls?

Half an hour later, we exit and eventually wind up on the long, gravel driveway to his parent’s house. It’s been years since I’ve been here.

His dad lives alone as far as I know, just as he has since Jamison’s mom died. I wonder if Jamison brought him in on everything. The man was always hard to read, and veered from normal to a domineering asshole in the flash of an unexpected backhand. I’d watched Jamison catch knuckles more than once growing up.

There’s a car close to the barn that serves as a garage. “Is the old man home?” I ask.

Jamison shrugs as he puts Talia’s SUV in park and then shuts off the engine. “He won’t get in our way,” he says.

I don’t like the confidence in his movements, his words. They come from someone who is certain. Resolved.

I slide out of the back seat. Talia doesn’t move. Only when I come around to her side and open the door does she look up at me. With my back toward Jamison for a split second, I bend over her to undo her seatbelt and murmur, “Dandelion.”

At first, there’s no reaction, and I’m not sure she heard me. But then as the seat belt retracts into the door, she blurts, “Cobalt.”

It’s low. No one else will hear, and from the look on her face, she’s shooting some insult my way. I wink at her as Jamison brushes past me to point the gun on Talia again. “Move,” he orders.

Her shoes crunch gravel as she hops out and glances at the house. The place hasn’t been well kept. Paint peels off the wooden shingles in flakes that litter the yard. The windows are all open. Beside the house is an old well. As far as I remember, it works, though nobody much uses it anymore. The massive tree twenty feet from the house has the plank board swing Jamison played on when he was little. The ropes look tattered. I’m not sure it would hold anyone now.

As soon as we hit the porch, I’m aware of why all the windows in the house are open. A smell wafts out, pungent and sickly sweet. Rot.

Death.

“Oh my God,” Allie whispers. It’s the first time she’s spoken since Talia’s. She moves an arm over her mouth and nose and gags into her elbow. There’s a droning sound I can’t quite place.

Jamison turns to her slowly. “I told you,” he says, the words spilling out quietly. “My father wouldn’t be a problem.”

The droning. It’s flies. They’re clustered on the broken screen door, lining the windowsills on the inside of the house. “What did you do?” I whisper.

Allie’s hand moves to my wrist like she wants to comfort me, but just as her fingers brush my skin she catches herself and drops it to her side. I watch, waiting for the slightest indication that Jamison’s going to go for Allie, but he’s eerily still.

“Follow me,” Jamison says finally. Eyes on us, he walks backward around corners memorized in childhood. The smell gets stronger. I don’t look into the living room. Whatever’s in there, I don’t want to see, but I hear Talia’s gasp. Tiny winged bodies flit and bump against my skin. Despite the heat, I shiver.

We’re through the kitchen, standing in front of an aged door in the hallway.

The cellar.

I hate this place. Once, he gave me a shove down these same stairs and then held the handle while I twisted it in a panic. Only when I begged him for a full fifteen minutes did he laugh and tell me about the light. He hadn’t let me up for almost an hour.

As if he can sense my distress, Jamison picks this moment to look at me and smile. It’s not vicious. Almost an apology. We were kids when that happened. Stupid and mean and calling each other out on endless dares and tests of bravery. I give Jamison the slightest nod.

“Watch your head,” he says as he swings the door open to reveal a half rotten set of stairs. He makes Talia go first, and then follows. Allie is next. Rocks skitter and bounce as I take up the rear. Jamison yanks the string on the bare-bulbed light and a yellow glow bathes the exposed