Soulstice (15 page)

Reggie found Henry playing in his room when she got home. She strode through his door and wrapped her arms around him in a
great bear hug.

“Reggie, that hurts,” Henry complained.

“Sorry. I was just worried.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

Reggie sat down next to him on the floor.

“Henry, you know how you told me the other night that you got that funny feeling, like the heat was being sucked out of you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Have you ever gotten that feeling before?”

Henry thought for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’ve never felt it when you were at Thornwood? Or with Dr. Unger?”

Henry shook his head.

“No. Why?”

Reggie sighed. It was comforting that her brother hadn’t expressly felt the Vours’ presence at the hospital, but it wasn’t
proof positive that they hadn’t infiltrated it. She wasn’t sure when this ability of his had developed; maybe it was something
relatively new.

“Henry, you can’t go to Thornwood anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing yet. I just found some things out—Vours might be at Thornwood.”

“What?” Henry started backward, knocking over a toy pirate ship. The pieces scattered everywhere.

“No, I don’t want you to be scared!” Reggie insisted. Internally she swore at herself for dumping such information on him
so casually. “It’s just something I heard. Maybe it’s not true, but it’s too risky. I’m going to talk to Dad—I’ll make up
some excuse why you can’t go there anymore. I’m sorry, Hen—I know Dr. Unger was helping you. We’ll find you someone else really
good.”

Reggie began gathering up the plastic pieces of ship.

“Why did you think I felt those things when I was at Thornwood?” Henry asked.

Reggie sat up on her heels.

“What?”

“My heat being sucked out. Why would that happen at Thornwood?”

Reggie hesitated. She worried that if Henry did have an internal Vour detector, it might freak him out too badly to know about
it. Sometimes not knowing Vours could be anyone around you was a blessing.

“I want you to tell me what it is,” Henry said. “I’m not a baby. I won’t be afraid.”

Reggie knelt back down on the floor.

“I know you’re not a baby, Hen. But these are really scary things, and I don’t want you to have to deal with them.”

“But I’m already dealing with them. Sometimes I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

Reggie bit her thumbnail.

“I know. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Henry said. “Everyone’s always sorry. That doesn’t do any good. I want to know what’s happening to me.”

“Henry—”

“Am I turning back into a Vour?”

“What?” Reggie jerked her head up.

“Is my heat going away because I’m turning back into a Vour?”

“God—no!” Reggie pulled him into a hug, but he remained still. “No, that’s not it at all. Don’t ever think that!”

Henry’s face was resolute, but he was breathing fast, and his lips trembled.

“Well, what then?” he asked.

“It’s just… okay.” Reggie sat back, keeping her gaze even with Henry’s. “Look, we’re not totally positive or anything, but
Aaron and I were thinking that… maybe that feeling you get is a sign… a sign that Vours are nearby. Like a warning. It gets
stronger when they’re closer.”

“But it happened the other night in our house!”

“I know,” Reggie said quickly. “There must have been a Vour outside someplace, and you sensed it.”

“Oh my gosh.” Terror flitted across Henry’s face, but he stayed calm.

“Don’t worry, Henry,” Reggie went on. She stroked the side of his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you. If anything, this
is a good thing. It will help you avoid Vours.”

Henry shook his head.

“But if you think there are Vours at Thornwood, wouldn’t I have felt them already?”

“It might not be that simple. Maybe it’s still developing. Maybe you just haven’t felt them there
yet
. But that’s why I don’t want you to go back.”

Henry pulled his knees up to his chin and sat huddled like that for several minutes, pensive and silent. Reggie watched him
anxiously.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” she said. “It’s so much to handle, and after everything you’ve already been through—”

“I can try it out Tuesday.” Henry looked up at her. “Dad told me we’re all supposed to go for another family session, and
he’s going to make you come.”

“What? No. No way. I don’t want you anywhere near that place. And if you ever get that feeling again, I want you to run.”

“I’m tired of being scared,” Henry said softly. “I was always running in the fearscape, running away from the scary things.”
He stood up and put his hand on Reggie’s shoulder. “You made me face them, remember? That’s how we got out. That’s what we
should do now.”

“Henry, you shouldn’t be involved in this.”

“Why not? Because I’m younger than you? I’ve seen the same things. And now I want to fight back. So we’re going to Thornwood
on Tuesday.”

Henry crossed his arms and stared sternly at Reggie. She was surprised to see the same look her mother used to give her when
she was serious about something.

It was actually a good plan, one that could possibly save her a lot of time. Both she and her father would be there; Henry
wouldn’t really be in any unnecessary danger. More than anything she was astonished at his resolve, his courage. She had no
right to dictate what he could and couldn’t do—he’d beaten a fearscape, after all.

“Tuesday?”

“At ten.”

“Let’s do it.”

Aaron had kept his phone on and by his pillow all night in case Mitch called, but he had heard nothing more from him by morning.
Though technically the first day of summer break, Aaron rose early and headed to Something Wicked; he had to open the shop
this morning since Eben had errands to run in Fredericks. Aaron suspected those errands involved Vours, but Eben stonewalled
him every time he asked. If Aaron was to learn anything about Eben’s connection to these monsters, he was going to have to
find out in more secretive ways.

One of the things Aaron liked most about working for Eben was that his boss didn’t believe in busywork. Once the Internet
orders were packed and shipped (all two of them), the incoming books received and shelved, Aaron was free to read. Every shift
he dusted off old pulps, horror reprints, science texts, and horror history books. In the past six months, both at home and
at work, he had obsessively researched monster lore of all kinds. Before Sorry Night Aaron had always preferred true crime—before
the fairy-tale nightmares called the Vours became true stories themselves.

Today, Aaron spent the hours combing through volume after volume, determined to unearth something useful about the monsters
and what link existed between them and the solstices. Even if the answer lay in myth, it would be a place to start. But the
going was slow, and he found very little to help him.

The bookstore was like a cave, dark and cool, the air-conditioning turned up high to help preserve the aging tomes. Normally
Aaron appreciated the atmosphere, especially compared to the sweltering summer outside, but now, alone amid the scent of old
paper and mustiness, his memories of the Vour in his head closed in on him. Focusing on his research and on how he could help
Reggie was the only thing that kept the mania at bay. Time was running out.

Right up until closing he scoured
Unspeakable Cults
but found more of the same trite tales—accounts of demented charlatans, demon worshippers, and dark spirit conjurers, but
nothing shed further light on the secrets of the Vours.

The bell above the door chimed just before seven o’clock. Eben knocked dirt from his shoes with his cane and stepped inside.
It bothered Aaron that Eben still used the cane, now that he’d witnessed just how capable he really was. Sometimes when he
closed his eyes, Aaron still heard the sickening crack of Quinn’s wrist moments before Eben let the monster sink into the
freezing lake. He locked the door and flipped the sign over in the window.

There was much to fear about the old man. But deep down, Aaron knew they needed him, even if Reggie refused to believe it.

“Find any first edition Poes today, boss? Can we retire rich?”

He slid the book beneath the counter behind the register.

“Nothing but junk today. Though the drive was rather pleasant. So much green this time of year.”

Eben walked behind the counter and hung up his hat. He eyed the title of the book beneath the register and shook his head
in disappointment. “After all you’ve been through, you’re still sticking your nose where it can get chopped off? Let it go,
boy.”

“Believe me, I want to.” Aaron followed Eben to the register. “Are you going to tell me what you did to that detective to
get me out of jail?”

“No.”

“Candy? Flowers?”

“Enough. I’ve warned you too often.” Eben glared at Aaron. “But you’re not the only one I should be warning, am I right?”

Aaron said nothing. The old man leaned toward him, his gray eyes boring into the boy’s own.

“What does she mean to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I need you to tell me.”

“Eben, I don’t know anything.”

“You’re a bad liar, boy. If you let her get in harm’s way again, could you live with yourself? Tell me what she’s planning.”

Aaron bit his lip. He made a decision.

“There’s a Vour at school. He came after her the other day. Reggie didn’t want me to tell you, but I trust you can listen
and not flip out.”

Eben clutched Aaron’s shoulder. His fingers tensed like a clamp. Aaron pulled away, startled by the elderly man’s grip.

“Or maybe not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She thinks she can save him.”

The color drained from Eben’s face. “And what do you think?”

“I think she’s braver than all of us.”

“She’s a fool. You’re both fools.”

“Look, I’m not saying I agree with her, but—”

“Then convince her that this path is reckless—worse, downright idiotic! It’s suicide!”

“Don’t you think I’ve told her this, Eben?” said Aaron. “It doesn’t matter. Reggie is the hero in this story, no matter what
you and I think.” Eben glared at him icily. Aaron could feel his pulse quickening. “Did you ever ask yourself, why her? It’s
because she’s just better than us. She chooses to fight, to save the victim, at risk to herself. I don’t like it—I hate it!
But it’s what makes her the perfect one to fight the Vours. And there’s nothing you or I can do about it except watch her
back!”

Eben slapped Aaron across the face. Aaron staggered back, cupping his cheek in shock.

“This isn’t one of your novels!” Eben shouted at him. “The villain can’t be vanquished, and the hero won’t win!” He grabbed
Aaron by the collar. “There are fates far worse than mortal death. Do you understand? I will not let her risk a suffering
beyond human understanding for the slim hope of saving strangers! Would you? Would you let her
soul
die for this?”

Aaron ripped himself free from the old man’s white-knuckled grip and pushed him hard in the chest. Eben stumbled backward,
tripped on a box of books, and fell. A dull crack pierced the air as Eben struck the wooden floor.

Protruding from the thin, liver-spotted skin on Eben’s wrist was bone, blackened and brittle, like a chicken wing left to
burn in an oven. Droplets of dark blood seeped from the wound.

“Eben!”

Then the man convulsed and broke into a horrific coughing spasm. He gasped for breath but choked on a wetness building in
his throat and lungs. His eyes widened and he tried to stand, but a stream of red and gray ooze poured from his mouth and
nostrils.

Aaron stood, frozen in shock and disgust.

Eben extended his broken arm upward and hacked, noxious fluid spraying from his mouth. Aaron snatched the phone from the counter
and dialed 9-1-1 while he knelt and cradled Eben’s head. The emergency operator picked up on the first ring.

“Send an ambulance! My boss—”

“No! Aaron!” Eben gurgled, slapping at the phone.

“My boss collapsed. There’s blood…”

“Please… don’t…”

“The Something Wicked bookstore on Main. Send someone. Please, send them
now
.”

Aaron dropped the phone and lifted Eben into an upright position, hoping to ease his coughing. He tried not to look, but his
eyes moved involuntarily to the diseased bone sticking out of the man’s wrist.

It was gruesome and unnatural. Repulsive.

The coughing continued, though Eben’s breath now drew a bit easier and the flow of bloody toxins from his mouth and nose slowed
to a trickle.

“Eben. I’m so sorry…”

Eben closed his eyes and shook his head, pained by something much greater than his physical injuries.

“It’s all over now. I am found out.”

  
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