Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (105)
“After October, does everyone leave? The festivalgoers?”
“Mostly, yes.”
I made a mental note to find Ezmerelda and see if there was a way we could stay in touch. And the pirates . . . Did pirates have cell phones?
I’d spent so long running and being afraid that now I had what felt like friends, and a community, I didn’t want them go. What would it look like when The Brew Pump sat vacant?
The shy girl, the scared girl, the one riddled with anxiety . . . had found happiness amongst the dark and strange. I adored all the monsters around me. It couldn’t be over.
Speaking of The Brew Pump, that was exactly where Raven insisted we go. I wanted to look for Ghost, or the guys, but he pulled me through the festival, all the way to the concert venue. It was packed, busier than usual, and there was a buzz of excitement emanating from the crowd. “Who’s playing?” I shouted over the noise.
“You’ll see. The crowd is too much for me. I’m going bird mode now, alright?”
“Okay, have fun.” I smiled. I loved that raven already, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it.
Just then, blue smoke billowed onto the stage. The crowd went wild. A boar shifter let out a whistle, and I caught sight of the pirates and Captain Vex raising their flasks. “Happy Halloween,” a deep voice rumbled over the microphone. Green flame erupted and shot into the sky at the corners of the stage.
The smoke dissolved, and my smile hurt my cheeks it was so big. I cheered along with the crowd. “This surprise performance goes out to my Little Ghost,” the voice purred. I saw him then. He was stunning in his jacket, like he belonged in that clothing all along. I had no idea they were in a band. Even more so, they were good. Like, really freaking good. Ames played guitar and sang, along with Onyx who played bass. Wolfgang preformed a drum solo that revved the crowd into a small riot. It was the most fun I’d ever had. A fitting end.
I didn’t even see it coming.
GHOST
Blythe took my breath away. If I had a soul to give, I’d give it to her. But since I was damned, I’d give her my eternity. She was it. My Claimed. And tonight, I was going to tell her. Tell her that I loved her. That she was mine, forever. The look on her face when she realized we were playing would live in my dreams for the rest of my existence, along with the way her long black dress moved as she danced. She moved freely, happily, laughing, the polar opposite of the girl who came here a little over a month ago. That girl was running, lonely, sad. She’d given up hope when she stumbled into my office that day. If I were being honest, I’d given up hope too. Until her. But now we had each other, and everything would be okay. I said I’d defeat the evil chasing her and I did. It was a night to celebrate . . . though I was sorely tempted to end my set early and take her back to the graveyard to properly fuck her in that dress.
I thrummed my electric guitar, feeling the music vibrate through me, when a flash of red blocked my vision of Blythe.
I knew that hue. The color was his. It belonged to him. To his kind.
“Devil, nice to see you, but we’re a little busy right now,” I drawled, not caring that my mic was still on.
Onyx laughed and shouted above the noise, “Just like the Devil, always showing up when you don’t need him.” The crowd laughed.
Judas’s black eyes searched mine for only a second before he turned, long cape fanning behind him. “They’re here,” he said deeply. “The one I’ve been searching for. The one I’ve looked for for eternities. The one—”
He stopped abruptly. I shoved his big shoulder aside just in time to see it. It charged for her on all fours. Vampires were flung to the side, impaled by its horns. The ox shifter leapt, trying to protect her. Monsters and immortals flung themselves in its path to guard her. To protect my Claimed. But it was too late. The Devil disappeared, and his red mixed with my blue, setting the stage in a purple haze as I became smoke and darkness. I heard Onyx and Wolf shout behind me.
A searing pain stabbed through my back. I looked down to see a poison blade protruding from my chest.
CHAPTER 36
Blythe
ASH GROVE IS A FINE PLACE TO DIE
Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve.
Ray Bradbury
The last thing I remembered was its face. Its horrible, muddy red eyes with rectangle irises. Hooves reached me at the same moment a screech sounded, and talons gripped onto my shoulder. I fell, and its hooves rose above me and crashed down.
And then I was gone.
When I opened my eyes, red smoke twisted around my arms. It was just like Ghost’s smoke, only this one burned and ached. It felt as if all the life force from my body were being drained. My chin was so heavy. Stray curls blocked my vision of the long, fur-covered legs. I made out horns. Blood covered horns. Friends from Hallows tried to save me. The energy to sob in terror escaped me. The tall goat-creature was mixing something at the checkout counter. We were . . . I looked around, seeing bags of chips, gums, candies, hearing the crackle of an ice box filled with sodas.
A female voice spoke. “A gasoline station. Never had these when I lived here, not invented yet. There are several haunted ones scattered around Ash Grove. They’re all portals. I’m surprised no one’s figured it out by now. Then again, it’s always the ordinary that’s overlooked, am I right?” She shrugged a furry shoulder in a way a furry shoulder shouldn’t be able to move. The goat creature continued, clinking glassware. “No matter. I’m just glad I got you. I’ve been looking for you for years, you invisible thing you. But then some of my legions and ghouls happened upon the blood and your scent. Your sweet scent of fear was so strong so potent . . . leaving such a long trail of crumbs for us to follow. My how my master will reward me.”