Dark Muse Read Online Free PDF Page A

records
filled most of the space but they managed to find openings on the
floor. Poe snagged a ratty couch covered in beagle hair. It was
probably better, Muddy mused, that her vision wasn’t so sharp.
    The guy looked about seventy, but with a
hundred years of wear on the tires. Wearing a moth-eaten wool
blazer and sky blue pants, he looked like he could fit in any
senior citizens home. He was a bald Bill Cosby without all the
smiling. When Muddy finally got a good look at his face, he
winced.
    The old man's eyes were mismatched. The right
one was cocoa, but the left was silver! Not icy blue, or one of
those colored contacts that Chelsea or the girls at school would
probably wear to prom—it was shining silver where the color should
be. The teen wondered if the old man could see out of it.
    He looked deeper. Yes, those eyes had seen a
lot. The hair stood up on his neck as he held the gaze.
    “Seen too much,” said the old man, jarring
Muddy from his stare. “Way too much.”
    “What?”
    “You in charge of this little posse?” Old
Silver Eye asked him.
    Again, Muddy swallowed. “I guess so. Yes,
sir.”
    The old man chuckled to himself, coughed then
drank a swig of iced tea. “Yes sir,” he repeated and shook his
head. “Most kids out this way are disrespectful little runts. They
come and spray paint my house, kick my dog, shoot each other,
whatever. I should’ve never come back.” His head dropped a bit.
    “From where, Memphis? Chicago? That where
you’re from?”
    He shook his head, still dropped. “Nope, not
what I meant at all, but you might find out if you’re unlucky
enough.”
    “What do you mean? I just want to find my
brother. Where did he go?”
    “Where do you think? You don’t seem like an
idiot to me. Are you?”
    Poe, once again, jumped into battle for her
friend. “Relax there, Mr. Music Man. Just because you know all
these famous people,” she swirled with her arms, “doesn’t mean you
can put us down. We’re not stupid. We’re just…different.”
    Muddy smiled at the angel of his life, his secret angel. Could she really see who was in the
photos? No, he guessed, but she things figured out real fast.
    “You don’t say?” he asked, amused at her
reaction. “I can tell. Easily.”
    The whole gang tensed up. They'd always had
to deal with that stuff in school. They didn’t need it here, too,
not with Zack missing. Something, or someone, was going to
explode.
    Corey stood. “What does that mean?”
    More laughter erupted from the old guy.
“Relax, relax.” He waved at them to sit down. “I didn’t mean
anything derogatory by it. Look, I just met you. I have no idea
what you’re about. All I meant were two things.”
    Muddy felt his muscles untangle a little.
“Oh, yeah?” He still wondered where the old man had stashed the gun
he'd heard click. “And what’re those?”
    The man downed the rest of his iced tea then
called Sally over to sit by him. “First, some of you are going to
be surprised at what the crossroads can do to a person. It ain’t
natural—at least to this world.”
    “What do you mean?” Corey asked. “There’s no
such thing as supernatural…stuff. And what do you mean by some of us? Why not all of us? Aren’t we different enough?” He’d spent his life labeled as different,
just like all of them. Nothing got under his skin more.
    Poe tried to diffuse the stress. “So, you
said there were two things. What’s the second?”
    “Hmmm,” the man replied. “You guys have no
idea what music really is all about.”
    “You old dog!” Otis was never one to mince
words.
    “Otis!” Poe sounded disgusted. She turned to
the man, who still had not introduced himself. “Who do you think
you are to tell us what we know about music? Is it because we’re
not famous like those people you posed with on the wall? Because
we’re young? Not from the ‘ghetto?’ What?”
    Otis drew back and leaned into Muddy. “Are
you’re sure you want to date