Outside, a car was parked at the bottom of the wide marble steps. Next to the vehicle, dressed in a long coat topped off with dark glasses, even though it was night, stood Evan Stroud.
Graham's stomach did a flip-flop.
"Go on." The old guy gave him a gentle shove.
There was nowhere to run. He was at the police station, for dog shit's sake. If he took off, they'd have him in a second. They'd put him back in jail, where he'd soon be writing his name in stinky letters.
Like a robot, he moved jerkily down the steps toward Stroud.
"Here's the deal," Stroud said once they were in the car driving away. "You can stay at my place while we get things figured out. I'll take DNA samples and send them to a lab so you can see that I'm not your father. So you can have some closure."
"You don't have to do this." Graham didn't want to stay where he wasn't wanted. He had pride.
"It's all right. I want to help, but I can't monitor you. I can't follow you around and make sure you're going where you should be going. Tuonela is small, and everybody knows everybody's business. If you ditch school, I'll find out."
"Okay. Okay."
Graham didn't know if it really was okay. He was exhausted. The only sleep he'd gotten was the one night/day he'd spent at Stroud's. And the deal about the DNA, maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Stroud would believe him once and for all. Maybe the guy would step forward and take some responsibility.
Chapter 10
Graham sat at the table studying Stroud. When he turned around, Graham quickly looked down, watching as the guy slid two fried eggs from the spatula to the plate in front of him. Next came toast and orange juice.
Stroud took a seat. "Gotta have a good breakfast before you go to school."
Would a vampire say something about a good breakfast? Would a vampire even/z'x breakfast?
Graham picked up his fork. Keeping his chin low, he glanced through the hair that curled across his forehead. Stroud looked pretty normal except for being so pale.
Graham took a bite. Then another. And suddenly he was embarrassed by his own stupid thoughts.
The old guy from the police station picked him up.
They hadn't even given him a chance to get some decent sleep. Stroud had driven him to his place, where Graham got what seemed like five minutes before Stroud was standing over his bed, waking him, telling him the chief would be there soon to take him to school.
Maybe it was some kind of strategy to break him down with sleep deprivation.
Move along, son. Just move along Nothing to think about here.
The car was old and big and kind of floated over the streets, the chief leaning back in his seat and steering with one finger. The ashtray was overflowing with butts. He must have put out a cigarette before Graham got in, because it was still hazy inside.
It took maybe five minutes to get to school. It was close enough that Graham could have walked, but they wanted to keep an eye on him. They wanted to make sure he didn't take a detour to Arizona along the way.
The boat of a car docked at the curb. A wide sidewalk led past a flagpole, up a set of steps to double doors.
Graham's stomach lurched.
He was sick of being the new kid. His mother never stayed in one place for more than a year at a time. He didn't even know how it felt not to be new, not to always be on the outside, not to be defined by being from somewhere else.
The building was brick. Sprawling, with a flat roof. Classes must have already started, because nobody was around.
The chief hacked away, holding a fist to his mouth. When he was done, he said, "They're expecting you." He talked fast and breathlessly, as if wanting to get the words out before his next coughing spell. Graham's mother smoked, so he knew all about the morning coughing fits smokers had. "I talked to Principal Bonner this morning and explained the situation. She said she'd have everything ready when we got here. Want me to come in with you? I can."
"No." Graham opened the door and slid across