Crisped + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 2) by TJ Klune Page B

teeth.
    “You don’t scare me,” Cavalo said.
    I scare everyone.
    “Most everyone.”
    I scare you. I can hear it in your bees .
    “Not for the reasons you think,” Cavalo said before he could stop himself.
    What reasons?
    “Did the tattoos hurt?” The wind was cold against Cavalo’s face. The bees laughed.
    Lucas scowled. Pointed the knife at him. Cavalo thought about breaking his arm and taking the knife away but decided against it. They didn’t have time to stop. Still, it’d almost be worth it to hear the bone snap and wipe that look off the boy’s face. If they survived the next few weeks, he’d do it then.
    He thought he’d receive no answer from Lucas. Then, a shrug. Maybe.
    “There’s a lot of them.”
    Maybe.
    DEFCON 1. WE’RE AT DEFCON 1. “And it’d have to have been done in the last few years. Since you’re still a kid. They would have stretched otherwise.”
    A jab of the knife. A gnash of teeth. Maybe . Maybe. Goddamn you, maybe.
    Dangerous ground, this. Cavalo had never been one to ignore warning signs. Like the black smudge ahead that looked more and more like a black cloud trailing up from the ground toward the sky. “It’s like a joke, isn’t it?” he asked. “What came first, the scar or the tattoos?”
    Maybe. Maybe. Lucas’s shoulders tensed. His back arched as if electrocuted.
    Lose something, Charlie? “The scar,” Cavalo said. “That came first. Patrick wouldn’t have taken the chance of marking you only to try and kill you.”
    A stuttering step. Stop , Lucas said. This is done. Billboards. Tell me more about billboards. Bones. The bones of children in the husks of cars. Why your bees make noise whenever you think of children. Tell me of that. Tell me of all of that . Just stop. Stop with your mouth. Stop with the noise. Stop making your bees touch my own. Stop it, stop it stopitstopitstop—
    “How long did it take? Months. It had to be. There’s too much there to be done all at once.”
    The knife flashed. Stop. Stop.
    But he wouldn’t. Cavalo was tired of secrets. He’d learned too many over the past few weeks. Enough to last him a lifetime. Hank was right. He had to push. At least out here, Cavalo would be the only one to die. “His pet, huh? Sucking on your dead mama’s tit when he found you. Raised you. Cut you. Marked you.” Fucked you , Cavalo thought, and the anger that roared through him was hot and slick. It curdled his stomach. All of it did.
    Kill you , Lucas said with a snarl. Kill you.
    For every step Lucas took toward him, Cavalo took an answering step away. Bad Dog hadn’t yet noticed the shimmer in the air. Cavalo had. He knew what it was. What they’d find. Push now , the bees whispered. Push now before they realize what the black smudge truly is.
    “Does he have the rest? Patrick.”
    Hurt you. Stab you. Split your skin.
    “You put on a good show. For the town. Bought yourself some time.”
    Break you. Smash you. Make you bleed.
    “But what happens when they find out you’re only part of the solution? That you’re not even whole?”
    Hate you. Fuck you. Kill you. Lucas stopped walking. His hand tightened on the knife.
    “You’ll be just another Dead Rabbit then.”
    Bastard. I want to hurt you.
    Cavalo turned away from the billowing smoke in the distance. Lucas was coiled, ready to spring. “They’ll see nothing but a monster. And I can do nothing to stop them.”
    You should have killed me.
    “So many times,” Cavalo said.
    Lucas’s eyes narrowed. And yet you didn’t.
    “I still can.”
    You won’t. You need me.
    “I don’t need anyone.”
    The bees screamed. A strong wind blew along the fields, blowing up snow. It swirled around him like a snow globe.
    Lucas took a step toward him. Cavalo did not take a step back.
    They all need me. What’s on my skin.
    “We can scan it,” Cavalo said. “Once you’re dead.”
    But you. You want to touch my skin.
    “Fuck you,” Cavalo said hoarsely.
    Your bees give you away.
    Cavalo