Blood Ties Read Free Page B

appreciate it if you worked on this until dinner.”
    â€œFine,” Oliver muttered, taking the papers and heading into the living room. He almost wished he still had school to go to every night, if only to avoid being around his family.

Chapter 2
    Dinner’s Ominous End
    BUT NOT EVERYTHING WAS going badly. One aspect of the strangeness between Oliver and his parents was working to his advantage.…
    That evening, Oliver awoke and was dressed and up in the kitchen in moments. “I’m going out,” he said as he grabbed his sweatshirt and long black raincoat from the closet.
    Phlox turned from whipping cream for Belgian waffles. “Oh?” he heard her say tentatively. “And where are you going?”
    Oliver started down the stairs. “Dean and I are heading to the Underground,” he called casually over his shoulder.
    Oliver could practically hear Phlox staring after him, trying to figure out what he was up to. “You should eat some breakfast.”
    â€œNot hungry,” Oliver mumbled, continuing down the stairs. “Seth will be there,” he added, wondering if Phlox would call sternly after him—
    But she didn’t. Of course not, Oliver thought. He popped out the door into the sewer, glad to be out of the house, but feeling annoyed that his mom hadn’t even tried to stop him. What did that mean? Had his parents given up on him completely? But wasn’t being left alone what he wanted? And if so, then why did it make him feel bad?
    Oliver crossed town through the sewers, making his way to a quiet street in Crown Hill. He pressed a button set in the stone wall. A manhole cover opened above him, and he leaped up into brightness. This manhole was located safely beneath a thick pine tree, but the evening light was still harsh, making him squint.
    He slipped on the hood of his sweatshirt and pulled the collar of his raincoat high up over his neck. The coat was also treated with anti-insulants, which kept the heat of the summer out, so that Oliver was as cool and shaded as was possible in this miserable weather.
    The street was lined with little houses, and there were humans everywhere: walking dogs, tending to flowers, throwing a Frisbee in the street. Oliver hurried up the sidewalk. He could already feel the sickly warmth through his hood and on his legs. He dodged past a small terrier that growled suspiciously, and then sprinted across a final stretch of unshaded sidewalk, leaping onto the covered porch of Dean’s small, olive-green house. Dark curtains were pulled shut over its wide front windows.
    Oliver was just reaching for the door when it flew open and a thick, meaty high school boy hurried out, slamming right into him. The boy wore a tank top and jeans and smelled all sweaty and human and horrible.
    â€œWatch it, Sledge!” Oliver hissed, throwing back his hood and letting his eyes flare amber.
    Sledge looked down at Oliver. His eyes darted about, taking in ten things at once. He was always like this, scattered and out of control. He finally saw Oliver and smiled. “Cool … I wish I could make my eyes do that.”
    â€œWell, we could always kill you.…” Oliver muttered, trying to sound ominous.
    â€œNice! Would you?” Sledge seemed to think this was a fine idea. “I keep asking Ms. Fitch to make me a vamp or a zombie, anything!” He frowned. “She never does it. Having some powers would be the best.”
    A girl’s voice spoke from behind him. “Well, you’ve already got the power to be annoying.” A tall girl with long blond hair stepped out and shoved Sledge across the porch like he was an empty cardboard box rather than a six-and-a-half-foot-tall meat wagon who would have been every human football coach’s dream if he could stay in school. “Hey, Oliver,” the girl said casually, continuing across the porch and down the steps.
    â€œHey, Autumn,” Oliver replied. These were