Love Reborn (A Dead Beautiful Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Yvonne Woon
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
somehow looked inside without me knowing, but to my relief it was still there by my feet, the outline of the chest barely visible through the canvas.
Theo must have noticed, because he gazed at my bag with curiosity. I shifted my weight, scolding myself for being so obvious, but he didn’t ask me about it. Instead, his eyes met mine. A glimmer of understanding passed between us. Then he reached in his pocket and took out his own note.
Dear Mr. Healy,
You do not know me, but I know you. I am writing to you on a matter of utmost urgency. In a few days’ time, three strangers will arrive at your doorstep. They will need your help. Do not turn them away.
When they arrive, you will know what to do.
Sincerely,
Monsieur
When he finished reading, he dropped the note on the table. “So who’s the third?”
Dante. A draft seeped in through the window, mimicking his presence, but it was nothing more than the night closing in around us. I took it as a sign. “He’s coming,” I said, hoping it would make it true.
Theo crossed his arms over the back of the chair. “That’s not what I asked.”
“His name is Dante,” I said softly, and glanced up to see if any glimmer of recognition passed over Theo’s face, but he only frowned.
“What’s holding him up?”
Anya answered for me. “He’s just running a little late.”
I picked up Theo’s note. It was written in the same handwriting as Anya’s, the same ink. Monsieur . How did he know so much? And why did he think that this boy could somehow help us?
“Did this come in the mail?” I asked.
Theo shook his head. “Someone slipped it beneath the door when I was out. But my grandfather was here,” he said, just as the old man felt his way to our table, carrying two bowls of bisque.
He lowered them onto the table, his hands trembling. “Heavy footsteps,” he said, his dull eyes gazing off toward the side of the room. “Three of them. Like he had a third leg.”
Anya frowned. “A mutant?”
“A cane,” I murmured. “Monsieur is old.”
“Or crippled,” Anya said.
“And tall,” I said.
“Or fat,” Anya added.
Theo clapped his hands together. “Mystery solved. He’s a tall old fat crippled mutant with a cane.” I rolled my eyes as he turned to me. “So where’s your note?”
“I never got one.”
“So why are you here?”
I hesitated. Had Dante received a note, too, or had someone been watching us? I imagined the dark shadow of a man following us through snowy woods, a withered face peering through the window of our cabin. The thought of it made me shudder. “Dante told me to meet him here. Today.”
“Dante,” he said, turning the name around in his mouth. “The third stranger. So he’s the one with all the answers.”
I stared at the bowl of bisque getting cold in front of me. “Look,” I said. “We don’t need your help.”
Theo’s eye twitched. “Who said I was offering?” He stood up, casting a fleeting glance at the bag by my feet. I closed my legs around it. “So I guess that means you don’t need a room?”
Anya gave me an uncomfortable look.
“I hate to break it to you, but today is almost over. What if your friend doesn’t show up?”
“He’s coming,” I said, because he had to; without him, I was lost.
CHAPTER 3
The Spade
D ANTE DIDN’T ARRIVE THAT NIGHT. With nowhere else to go, we found ourselves following the old man up the back stairs of the tavern to his apartment, which occupied the second and third stories of the building. Anya and I shared a small guest room overlooking the street, with two twin beds and a stack of dusty sheets. If we needed anything, Theodore was just down the hall, his grandfather assured us, his dull eyes staring off into the distance. The moon glinted off of them, and I shuddered, remembering the Undead children from last fall—the way their eyes blurred to gray just before they decayed. Soon Dante’s eyes would grow cloudy, too.
Once we were alone, Anya folded
Theo must have noticed, because he gazed at my bag with curiosity. I shifted my weight, scolding myself for being so obvious, but he didn’t ask me about it. Instead, his eyes met mine. A glimmer of understanding passed between us. Then he reached in his pocket and took out his own note.
Dear Mr. Healy,
You do not know me, but I know you. I am writing to you on a matter of utmost urgency. In a few days’ time, three strangers will arrive at your doorstep. They will need your help. Do not turn them away.
When they arrive, you will know what to do.
Sincerely,
Monsieur
When he finished reading, he dropped the note on the table. “So who’s the third?”
Dante. A draft seeped in through the window, mimicking his presence, but it was nothing more than the night closing in around us. I took it as a sign. “He’s coming,” I said, hoping it would make it true.
Theo crossed his arms over the back of the chair. “That’s not what I asked.”
“His name is Dante,” I said softly, and glanced up to see if any glimmer of recognition passed over Theo’s face, but he only frowned.
“What’s holding him up?”
Anya answered for me. “He’s just running a little late.”
I picked up Theo’s note. It was written in the same handwriting as Anya’s, the same ink. Monsieur . How did he know so much? And why did he think that this boy could somehow help us?
“Did this come in the mail?” I asked.
Theo shook his head. “Someone slipped it beneath the door when I was out. But my grandfather was here,” he said, just as the old man felt his way to our table, carrying two bowls of bisque.
He lowered them onto the table, his hands trembling. “Heavy footsteps,” he said, his dull eyes gazing off toward the side of the room. “Three of them. Like he had a third leg.”
Anya frowned. “A mutant?”
“A cane,” I murmured. “Monsieur is old.”
“Or crippled,” Anya said.
“And tall,” I said.
“Or fat,” Anya added.
Theo clapped his hands together. “Mystery solved. He’s a tall old fat crippled mutant with a cane.” I rolled my eyes as he turned to me. “So where’s your note?”
“I never got one.”
“So why are you here?”
I hesitated. Had Dante received a note, too, or had someone been watching us? I imagined the dark shadow of a man following us through snowy woods, a withered face peering through the window of our cabin. The thought of it made me shudder. “Dante told me to meet him here. Today.”
“Dante,” he said, turning the name around in his mouth. “The third stranger. So he’s the one with all the answers.”
I stared at the bowl of bisque getting cold in front of me. “Look,” I said. “We don’t need your help.”
Theo’s eye twitched. “Who said I was offering?” He stood up, casting a fleeting glance at the bag by my feet. I closed my legs around it. “So I guess that means you don’t need a room?”
Anya gave me an uncomfortable look.
“I hate to break it to you, but today is almost over. What if your friend doesn’t show up?”
“He’s coming,” I said, because he had to; without him, I was lost.
CHAPTER 3
The Spade
D ANTE DIDN’T ARRIVE THAT NIGHT. With nowhere else to go, we found ourselves following the old man up the back stairs of the tavern to his apartment, which occupied the second and third stories of the building. Anya and I shared a small guest room overlooking the street, with two twin beds and a stack of dusty sheets. If we needed anything, Theodore was just down the hall, his grandfather assured us, his dull eyes staring off into the distance. The moon glinted off of them, and I shuddered, remembering the Undead children from last fall—the way their eyes blurred to gray just before they decayed. Soon Dante’s eyes would grow cloudy, too.
Once we were alone, Anya folded