“All right, James, enough.” Jennifer held her hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m making the horror movie I’m seeing in my mind disappear.” When she settled herself, she asked, “What do you think Hempel wants?”
“To be the one who uncovers the undead in Witch City. What recognition he would receive if he were the first to prove that such beings exist. Good enough for the Pulitzer Prize.”
“I think you should talk to him,” Timothy said. The boy had come back into the store without his cape, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his face still streaked with blood. “I think I should talk to him. I want to tell him the truth.”
“You will do no such thing,” James said. “It’s too dangerous.”
Timothy’s dilated-black eyes widened. “I don’t think it would be as bad as you t
