Nathan touched the black scar on his face. “Then it is you, brother? I thought you’d be dead by now. I told myself I imagined it when I was behind that wall and I heard the digging and felt . . . Ah, so I was right then. It wasn’t those children who freed me. It was you. You came back—”

“To kill you,” Bailey said icily. “To destroy you once and for all. It’s something I should’ve done seventy-five years ago. This time I’ll finish it.”

The young man in the sweat suit smirked with confidence. “Will you now?” he said. “Don’t be a fool. You were lucky last time. You caught me unaware, and you were young and strong then and you had a mad thirst for revenge to drive you. Do you have that now? No. You are just a bent, wizened old fool. Old. Ancient. Decrepit. I can hear your joints creak from across the yard, Bastian. I can hear your bones crumbling away, and the strain of your heart, laboring to maintain even an erratic beat. You’re a shadow of your former self, Bastian. While I AM your former self.”

“No, you’re not,” Bailey called back. He was sagging against the beam more and more. The cross lowered a bit. “You were never like me.”

“No?” He was coming closer now, toward the steps, even though the cross was still before him. “Don’t I have your body, brother? Your strength, your vitality? And even more—don’t I look as you once did? Isn’t this the face that Lynn Anne fell in love with? Your face?”

“Don’t listen to him, Sebastian!” Stiles called, but the old man’s gaze was caught and held by his advancing twin. Bailey’s hand trembled and lowered still. Nathan no longer recoiled from the cross’s presence.

“Join me, Bastian,” he offered. “I can make you like me. I can give you everything you desire. I can give you your youth. Can you imagine what it would be like to run again, to feel undreamed of strength in your arms instead of numbness or pain?” His smile was seductive, devilish. “You know you want it. Don’t you?”

There was a moment of anxious silence. Then the crucifix clattered to the porch. “Damn you, Nate,” he sobbed in defeat.

Nathan opened his arms. ‘“All is forgiven, brother,” he said. “Come to me.”

The old man walked stiffly down the steps and into his brother’s embrace. He even turned his head to bare his thin, wattled throat. But Nathan was suddenly hesitant. He was sniffing, looking about. There was a pungent aroma in the air around them. “What is that?” he muttered.