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〃I don't think drinking blood is so weird；〃 he said。
At first they only looked surprised。 Molochai and Twig were perhaps a little disappointed； Nothing thought he saw a faint feral glow fading out of their eyes。 Zillah raised his eyebrows at them； lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug。 The air in the van was thick； tense； something seemed to be passing between them； something Nothing could not read。 Then Zillah laid his hand over Nothing's and pushed the bottle to Nothing's lips again。
They passed it around； drinking until the insides of their mouths were stained rotten red； Nothing no longer felt sick。 He was giddy with joy； and when Zillah grabbed him again； he kissed back hard； then hooked his fingers through Zillah's nipple rings and tugged gently。
〃Do that again； about three times as hard；〃 sighed Zillah。 Nothing plied； dizzy with arousal。 He could not have imagined a better lover if he had been given the blueprint。 He didn't know where the blood had e from； whether it was something they used to scare outsiders or a taste they genuinely cultivated； and right now he didn't care。 Anyone who wanted to play vampire was all right by him。
Everyone passed out sometime before dawn。 Nothing slept close by Zillah； his smooth cheek resting against Zillah's arm。 Zillah watched him in the darkness； studied the lashes lying smudgily against the pale skin； the sweet lips parted in sleep； the breath from them rich with wine and blood。 He brushed a strand of dirty black hair away from the boy's brow； traced the shape of the boy's face with his forefinger。 It was a fine clear face； the delicate yet strong bone structure just beginning to emerge from the mask of childhood。 He was perhaps the most attractive hitchhiker they had ever picked up。 And what was so strange about him？
He had drunk from the bottle of blood without choking； without spitting or gagging。 To the contrary…the blood had seemed to revive him； freshen his skin； brighten his eyes。
Most hitchhikers were glad enough to party with them； to share a pipe or a tab of acid or a tumble on the mattress。 Then…always after these pleasures； for it made their blood sweeter…the wine bottle was brought out。 Or the whiskey bottle； or whatever they had put the latest batch in。 This was Molochai and Twig's favorite part： the hitchhiker； already drunk or high or fried on acid； would swig eagerly from the bottle。 Then his eyes…or her eyes…would grow big and frightened； and his mouth…or her mouth would twist in terror and disgust as the blood drooled back out of it； and Molochai； Twig； and Zillah would be upon him。 Or her。 One rescuing the wine bottle； one holding the hitchhiker's panicked hands； and one at the throat。 The sweet； rended； pulsing throat。 Or the belly。 Or the crotch。 Anywhere would do； any spot that would bleed。
But none of that had happened with this boy…Nothing。 Where had he e by such a name？ And where had he e by a taste for blood？ Again Zillah studied the dear sleeping face； the dark fringe of hair that fell across the eyes。 This one could stay around for a few days。 There was magic in his bloodstream； surely； but maybe a sort of magic that should be saved for a while。 With the tip of his finger he touched Nothing's lips。 And in his sleep； Nothing smiled。
The birth of morning found them all heaped on the mattress； tangled； hair across faces； hearts to backbones； hands clutching hands。 Zillah stirred and muttered as the first light touched his eyelids…the last ancestral vestige of a reflex he scarcely remembered； even in his nightmares。 He pressed his mouth against Nothing's throat。 Then he came half…awake and； remembering that he had decided to keep this boy； did not bite but had to suck like a baby before he could sleep。
Chapter 16
Steve had awakened with a hellacious hangover。 This was no rare occurrence for him…usually he could sleep it off or chew Excedrin until he felt better…but today's was a real bulldog； tenacious and ugly； with pounds of power in its drooling jaws。
Now Ghost was trying to talk to him。 The guy had some nerve。 Steve glowered across the kitchen table。 〃You want to go where？〃
〃Miz Catlin's。 You remember her； my grandmother's friend？ She has her own store now。 It's out on Forty…two toward Corinth。 Just down the road； west。〃
〃West；〃 said Steve stupidly。 He poked at his banana pancakes； then sipped the beer Ghost had given him。 Hair of the dog he told himself。 Hair of the dog that bit me。 Who says there aren't nerves in the brain？ He pressed his hands to his temples； winced； lifted the beer again。 That was all the exercise he planned on getting this morning。 〃What do you want to go out there for？〃
〃She makes herb remedies。 I want to get some balm of angelica。〃 Ghost shovelled in a forkful of pancake； licked honey off his lips。 〃I got a wisdom tooth ing in。〃
〃I'll take you down to the 7…Eleven。 You can get a bottle of Tylenol。〃
Ghost pulled his hair in front of his face and looked disdainful。 〃That's no good。 I can't use any of that stuff…it makes me sick。 e on； you ought to get out of the house。〃
〃Where is this place again？〃
〃West；〃 said Ghost patiently。 〃You know。 Like California； only not as far。〃
Steve lifted his middle finger； but the effort was too much for him； and he took another swig of beer。 〃I'm supposed to go to work at four。〃
〃'We'll be back by then。 e on； Steve。 It might not be warm much longer。〃
Steve cast a suspicious look at Ghost。 〃You drank as much as I did。 How e you don't have a hangover？〃
Ghost smiled。 〃Miz Catlin gave me a potion。 Want some？〃
One of the four roads that led out of Missing Mile； Firehouse Street； crossed N。C。 42 a ways out of town。 Steve turned the T…bird onto the highway and leaned out the window； letting the wind rush past his face。 The air smelled of the long sweet death of summer and the gaudy return of autumn。 Dandelions； creekwater； woodsmoke from an early bonfire。 Steve breathed them all in。
He felt better now； had felt better ever since Ghost made him drink some bittersweet anise…flavored liquid from a tiny blue bottle。 Steve had heard all the arguments against herbal medicine…it was dangerous； it was inaccurate； it was better left to real scientists with real Ph。D。's…but growing up around Ghost and Miz Deliverance； he had seen folk remedies in action a hundred times over。 They could be a damn sight more powerful than anything available at the local pharmacy。
Ghost had dug an old five…stringed guitar out of the T…bird's trunk。 He sprawled in the backseat strumming random chords that sounded like crystal being smashed by a rusty hammer； singing as loud as he could over the wind and the hum of the tires on the road。 〃Sold in the market down in New Orleeeeens 。 。 。 I bet your momma was a voodoo queen 。 。 。 owhoooo； how e you dance so gooood？〃
Ghost's voice always reminded Steve of Hank Williams before the speed and the whiskey got him； and in it Steve thought he could hear the beat of dusky blood and the roar of the Mississippi。 But he only said； 〃That's not how that song goes。〃
Under Ghost's enthusiastic fingers； the guitar strings protested； then succumbed and sang their cacophonous song。 The G…string pinged out a tiny death knell as it snapped。 Ghost sang more softly； mourning it。 In the front seat Steve grinned； shook his head； and pushed the speed up a notch。 The sun was warm； and the road rose and fell smoothly away； and they almost drove past the place before Ghost stopped playing and said； 〃That's it！〃
Steve slowed； looked around。 〃Where？〃
Ghost pointed at a little house set back from the road。 It was painted green and sat on a big lawn still speckled yellow and white with late dandelions。 Out back； Steve thought he saw the gleam of a pond。 Sure enough； as he watched； a fat white goose came around the house and marched up the porch steps。 At the end of the driveway； a carefully stencilled sign read： CATLIN'S COUNTRY STORE。 PICKLES； PIES； PRESERVES。 CLOSED SUNDAYS
〃No way；〃 said Steve。
〃Sure； this is it。 Go on up the drive。〃
Steve twisted around to look at Ghost。 〃You're tryin' to tell me a witch owns this place？〃
Ghost looked hurt； 〃Miz Catlin's not a witch。 She was friends with my grandmother。 You think my grandmother was a witch？〃
Steve remained tactfully silent。
Ghost scowled。 〃Well； anyway。 Miz Catlin just knows about medicine； that's all。〃
Steve maneuvered the T…bird into a wide circle of gravel at the top of the driveway； trying not to run over any of the chrysanthemums that nodded in the sun behind a tiny white picket fence。 As he got out； another goose pecked at the toe of his boot； then flapped up onto the hood of the ear and fixed him with a baleful eye。
〃Stare at him；〃 Ghost said。 〃They won't bite you if you keep staring at them。〃
Steve backed away。 〃They bite？〃
〃Not really。 They hiss at you； mostly。 The only lime geese are ever dangerous is when you happen to be standing on the edge of a cliff。 I heard about a guy who almost got killed that way。
〃By geese？〃
〃Yeah； there was a whole flock of them ing after him。 All hissing and cackling and stabbing at his ankles with their big o1' beaks。 He didn't know you had to stare them right in the eye； and he panicked。 They backed him right over a fifty…foot cliff。〃
〃So how e he didn't die？〃
〃This guy had wings；〃 said Ghost。 〃He flew away。〃
Steve sighed with the air of one long…suffering but patient。
〃Miz Catlin？〃 Ghost said； putting his head around the screen door。 〃You here； Miz Catlin？〃
〃GHOST…CHILD！〃
A tiny old lady came barrelling out of the store's dimness and launched herself into Ghost's outstretched arms。 Ghost lifted her off the floor and hugged her hard； knocking her big flowered hat off。 Steve picked it up and held it awkwardly until Miz Catlin's little sneakered feet were on the floor again。
She adjusted the hat over her long gray hair； smiling up at Ghost。 〃How the hell did you ever get so big； child？ You grow another inch every time I see you。〃 She turned to Steve。 〃I was there when this kid saw his first light。 My sister Lexy delivered him。 I gave his mama a spoonful of mother…wort in wine； but there weren't no need。 He was the easiest baby I ever seen。 Once I pulled his caul off； he just laid there and watched us all with them holy blue eyes。 I gave him a decoction of pomegranate rind for the runs once。 Ate too many of my fresh green apples and couldn't stay off the pot for ten minutes at a time。 He weren't but this high。〃 Miz Catlin held her hand a couple of feet off the floor。
The little lady herself wasn't much taller； the top of her flowered hat reached about to Steve's rib cage。 Steve thought he remembered hearing this story before； but he smiled at Miz Catlin。 Ghost was studying the ceiling； the rose…and…vine…patterned wallpaper； the jars of bright penny candy on the shelves。 He saw Steve looking at him and scuffed his toe on the wooden floor。
Miz Catlin disengaged herself from Ghost's arms。 〃You and your good…looking friend just e out to brighten up an old lady's day； or you need some medicine？〃
〃It's my wisdom teeth。〃
〃O Lord。 Let me see 'em。〃 She peered into Ghost's mouth； prodded his gums with a wrinkled forefinger。 〃You're lucky。 Got a big mouth。 You won't have to get 'em pulled。 I'll make up that balm directly。 You want to poke around in the back room like you used to？〃
A crazy light came into Ghost's eyes。 〃Shit； yeah！ Steve； wait till you see what's back there。〃
Miz Catlin's dried…apple face registered astonishment。 〃This isn't Steve？ That skinny kid who used to hang around with you all the time？ Well； age surely made you handsome； Mister Steve Finn。〃 The old lady stared at Steve with such frankness that he wanted to look away； but he thought that might be rude。 Finally Miz Catlin giggled like a little girl and waved her hand at them。 〃Listen to me…I never could give up flirtin'。 Anyway； you kids take a good look back there。〃 She indicated the contents of the front room： baskets of hand…dipped candles； patchwork quilts； potpourris。 〃All this stuff； it's for the tourists。 Back in the back…that's my real stock。 Ghost'll show you。 He knows。〃
After the