Free The Book of Lost Souls by Michelle Muto Page A

own gag reflex. A bystander was on his cell phone, calling the police. How different Mr. Nash looked from the people Raven’s mother dressed and made up to appear peaceful and serene. Ivy had never seen a dead body outside of Forever View. This looked anything but peaceful.
    “Come, on,” Nick said, returning to her side. He slipped an arm around her and gently escorted her back to Saludo’s.  
    “Who’d do such a thing?” Ivy asked, not bothering to care that Nick had wrapped his arms around her as he guided her back around the building. She felt cold, and the warmth and comfort of Nick’s arms felt good.
    “It’s the book,” he said in a weak voice. “We’ve got our answer. Someone’s using the book, and it’s not a Regular.”
    They walked back to the crowd, some still gathered outside the restaurant.  
    “Nick, the books!” Ivy said, suddenly aware she’d run outside and forgotten her book bag. “We’ve got to get back inside!”
    Nick took her hand, and he pulled her along through the crowd. When they reached the door, his Uncle stood, blocking the entrance. Inside, Vivian and her sister were seated in a booth, three police officers and a waitress stood near them.  
    “Ivy forgot her book bag,” Nick explained. “I just need to get it for her.”
    No way was she allowing Nick to get the books. “I can—”
    “ I’ll get it,” his uncle said. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in.” He turned and headed toward the table she and Nick had been sitting at.  
    Ivy gave Nick an uncertain glance. Nick on the other hand, remained calm.  
    “ Nick!” Ivy whispered in protest.
    “Shh!” he whispered back. “Listen.”
    Gloria was giving a full description to the police. It was somewhat hard to hear everything over Vivian’s wails, but it was still enough.
    “Tall, mustache. Black cape or some sort of cloak. Boots, weird little hat with a band of beads and something like a star on the front,” Gloria said.  
    Vivian let out another loud sob.
    “What? How should I know?” Gloria went on. “It’s nearly Halloween. It was some freak in a costume. And that woman he was with! Gaudy attire if you ask me.” She snapped her fingers as though trying to jog her memory. “Some Shakespearian dress. Looked like someone shot the drapes, if you know what I mean. Dark hair. He called her Elizabeth. She called him Vlad. Their accents were fake—horrible renditions of something Hungarian or maybe Romanian. Once, I heard them call each other Count and Countess. Surely, some concocted hoodlum names.”
    “Barbarians!” Vivian wailed, then blew her nose loudly into a napkin. “They were barbarians!”
    Nick and Ivy exchanged glances, neither of them daring to say a word. Nick’s uncle returned with the book bag and Ivy hurriedly took it.  
    “Thanks,” she said, holding it tightly against her side. For a moment, Ivy thought she heard someone call her name. She glanced behind her, then dismissed it.  
    “You okay?” Nick asked.
    “Huh?” Then she nodded. “Yeah. Just a little freaked out.”
    “Pizza’s on me,” Uncle Joe said. “Take Ivy home. She must be pretty shaken.” He shooed them out of the doorway and outside, then locked the door behind them.  
    When they returned to the parking lot, the police were busy ushering onlookers away. Ivy counted four squad cars. Yellow tape sectioned off the parking lot.  
    “We’ve got to find out who’s doing this,” Nick said. “I have no idea who the book brought back, but it’s not good. Of course, no one in that book could ever be good.”
    Ivy stopped and Nick turned to her.  
    “What?” he asked.
    “I know who’s been brought back,” Ivy said. It was hard to rid herself of the image of Mr. Nash hanging from the wrought iron fence, a spike protruding from his back. She thought of how terrible his death must have been and how dangerous and ruthless his killer was. “History, last year. Fifteenth century. Vlad the Impaler. I’m