Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) by Martina McAtee Read Free Book Online

out from under him, “none of that. Don’t want you standing; just breathing.”
    She blew the powder into his face, smiling in satisfaction as he coughed once and passed out. “That was step two.”
    The boy fixed the girl with a withering look. His bitch face was strong.
    “What?” she snapped, “We don’t have all night? I couldn’t watch anymore of…whatever that was.” She tapped her wrist, “We gotta go.”
    He turned his attention to Ember then, wincing as if he was used to having to apologize for his companion. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but you have to come with us if you want to live.”
    Ember blinked at him stupidly. She had no idea what to do with that.
    The girl dropped her face into her hands. “ That was your plan? Come with us if you want to live? We drove four hours so you could hit her with a line from Terminator?” She looked pained as she whispered, “This is why nobody takes us seriously.”
    Ember shook her head. They looked so normal. Well, they looked like hipsters but not your run of the mill straitjacket needing crazies. Maybe this really was all some sort of fever dream. Her stomach started to feel slippery. Maybe she’d passed out at the funeral and slipped into a coma. Maybe she was dead and this was hell.
    The guy rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, gesturing with his head to Mace, “I’m ever so sorry if I offended your delicate sensibilities, next time I’ll just hit her over the head with a shovel.”
    They ignored Ember’s indignant, “Hey.”
    “Honestly, I would have respected you more,” the girl told him.
    “Can we get on with this or would you like to lecture me some more?”
    Yep, they were crazy. She looked around searching for anything that would make sense. Maybe she was on candid camera. Maybe this was some sort of weird live role-playing game. That was a thing. She’d seen it on the internet. This was New Orleans; maybe she’d stumbled into an elaborate dinner theatre production.
    She stared at the boy on the ground with renewed interest. It would explain his bizarre look. Was he faking being unconscious? Was this all part of the game; was there another girl out there waiting to be fake attacked. Mistaken identity made a lot more sense than her being a supernatural creature. It had the added bonus of making her crush on a killer a tiny bit less pathetic and sad.
    She used the toe of her shoe to gently shove at Mace’s shoulder, content to ignore the two so she could look her fill. He really was pretty with his eyelashes fanning shadows over his cheeks. She sighed. She finally meets a boy willing to have a conversation with her-albeit a strange one-and a bunch of crazies ambush them. She felt she’d been making progress. They continued their argument, oblivious to her.
    “I wouldn’t need to lecture you if you would stop lacing every single conversation with stupid pop culture references that nobody gets but you nerdy comic-con dweebs.”
    Cute-movie-guy looked personally offended, “How dare you. Terminator is a classic. James Cameron is a-”
    The girl threw up her hand, palm out, “One word, bro, Titanic-”
    She could try to just slip away but they were blocking her exit, “Um, guys-”
    “Titanic?” the guy interrupted, “That movie was epic. Let’s talk about how the last movie you liked featured vampires who sparkled like bloodsucking pixie strippers. Sparkly vampires? When was the last time you saw a vampire glittering like a disco ball, hell when was the last time you saw one who didn’t explode in sunlight?”
    Ember sighed, staring at Mace forlornly. It was a testament to how screwed up her life was that she just wanted him to wake up and sniff her threateningly. He still wasn’t moving. She glanced surreptitiously at the two before again toeing at him, this time nudging his chin with her foot. She cringed as his head flopped like a ragdoll.
    Was he dead? She felt sick.