“How to use a phone?” I interrupted. “Yes. Vampires are allergic to sunlight, not technology.”

Sal let out a long sigh, but I also thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up just a hair. “My number is in the contacts. And you’ll have each other’s numbers in there too. Under the phones you’ll find your new IDs.”

Reg and I each pulled a phone and a card from the box. “IOWA” was stamped on the top left of the stiff rectangle and below it, photos Sal had taken of us the day before. Driver’s licenses.

“We can’t drive.” Reg sounded almost apologetic.

“We didn’t need to,” I said. “We could always outrun a car.”

Sal was unsurprised. “Well, it won’t be the first time I’ve taught one of your lot to press a pedal and spin a wheel. But it would be suspicious for you to not have a license at your age.” He nodded at the cards in our hands. “You’ll see I guessed you around sixteen and seventeen. That’ll make Charlie a junior and Reginald a senior.”

“Excellent.” Reg plastered a smug smile on his lips.

“Why am I younger?” I complained. “I’m obviously more mature!”

“Obviously.” Sal’s bushy gray eyebrows shot up. “I think we can pass you off as siblings, but making you twins would draw too much attention. Best to keep a low profile.”

“Pass us off?” I repeated. “You don’t think we’re really brother and sister?”

“A hundred years ago? At your age? For all I know, you two were lovers.”

“Ew!” I shrieked, as Reg coughed up a “Gross!”

Sal looked amused as he stood and moved to the sink to wash the breakfast dishes. “You never know.”

“It’s highly unlikely,” Reg said, “given my personal proclivities.”

“I’m not his type,” I translated.

Sal glanced back at us, eyes wide with understanding. “I see.”

“I trust that won’t be a problem?” Reg asked.

Sal returned to the dishes. “The folks here are small-town, not small-minded.”

“Good,” I said. “Because if anyone so much as looks at my brother sideways, they will answer to me.”

“Of all the things to worry about . . . Most folks who come through here just carry on about death.” He paused. “And wrinkles. I hear a lot about the wrinkles too.”

“Sorry if our concerns are boring you,” I said.

“Refreshing change of pace, actually. Gets a little tiresome hearing them wail about dying like it’s right around the corner. I suppose it must be your age. Think you’re invincible and death is light-years away—just like human kids.”

“Eternally teen,” I muttered, quoting the Elders. I’d heard them say it a hundred times.

Eternally teen. Trapped in immaturity. More educated with age, but never any wiser.

It was something they talked about a lot when the clans signed the Treaty of Annis.