Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (35)
“That I did.” Onyx shrugged a shoulder. “It’s either tampered with or he . . . became what he is later on. But I-I haven’t heard of that happening in a very long time.”
“Not since us,” I breathed.
Replaying the footage in my mind over and over, it only pointed to one thing. And if that was the case, we were all in for more of a fight than we anticipated. And Blythe was in more danger than she realized.
A green flame snaked into the sky, the only show of emotion from Onyx so far. “He’s like you, Ghost. One of yours.” I met his stare as the green light flickered around him and Wolf paced, circling us like a shark. Then Onyx spoke the unthinkable. “Blythe’s stepfather is a goddamn demon.”
CHAPTER 13
Blythe
SPOOKY GIRLS LOVE LIBRARIES
Walls have ears.
Doors have eyes.
Trees have voices.
Beasts tell lies.
Beware the rain.
Beware the snow.
Beware the man
You think you know.
Catherine Fisher
My heels sloshed into the still sopping, green shag carpet. Pumps were not my smartest idea. First the climbing and walking and now this. I didn’t care if it clashed, the rest of Hallows I’d be in sneakers. I splashed over to my bed where a pink post-it note was stuck to Benny. Snatching up my beloved stuffed bat, I read the cursive scrawl.
People coming to clean the basement tomorrow. Please feel free to stay in our spare room. First door to the right at the top of the stairs. - The Moores
I let out a sigh. What other choice did I have? After digging a discarded, roomy T-shirt from the dry portion of my sheets, and fishing out some clean underwear, I trodded up the stairs. What choice do I have? Oh, two other big, sexy choices. One with my therapist crush and the other on an idyllic compound with Mr. Beef Cake. Why hadn’t I just gone home with Ames? Or I could have agreed to stay in my own little house near Wolf. I’d been running so long that any sort of kindness or show of friendship unnerved me. Why would they care? I knew I looked pitiful and hopeless, but that didn’t mean I wanted pity. Especially not from Ames Cove. I wanted him to look at me and see a sexy, sure, strong woman. Not some pathetic wanderer. If he had invited me home because he wanted me . . . I knew I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But the moment I stepped through the pitch black doorway and into the shockingly pink and frilly spare room, I started to doubt my decisions. Maybe beggars shouldn’t be choosers. And maybe accepting a bit of charity would be better than this pink pom-pom and lace twin bed. The sickeningly pink wallpaper didn’t help matters, but what was more disconcerting were the old, vintage photographs splattered across the wall in dusty white frames. Struggling to unhook my corset, I inspected them and kicked off my pumps. The same little girl stared back blankly. Blonde pigtails in ribbons and poofy, lacy gown in each photo. A man, woman, and cat sat posed next to her behind one frame. I half wondered if they were the Moores and maybe she was their daughter. Then I noticed a horse and buggy in one scene behind them and decided these must be old relatives of theirs. Heirloom pictures. An intricate vanity sat next to the bed, complete with carvings of cherubs in the wood and a mirror blackened with spots to where it looked like old silverware. A blonde doll with pigtails tied in blue ribbon sat in the center, her head cocked to the side. Add that to the list of things that creeped me out, right under churches and cornfields. I shook off my eerie feeling and tore off my tight clothing. Thankfully, there was a tiny en-suite bathroom and a little pink-tiled shower. I washed off with a bubblegum scented bar of soap and tried not to think about how old it was . . . or who had possibly used it before me. After pulling on my Danzig band T-shirt that skimmed the thickest part of my upper thighs, I shut off the lights and tucked myself into bed. In the dark and with the moon shining through the sheer curtains, it wasn’t so bad in there. And I supposed I should be grateful that the Moores offered the room to me.
But I couldn’t think of my wet heels or the sugary scent of my skin. I snuggled my plush bat close to my chest and inhaled, pulling out my favorite memories of the night like silk from a drawer. The friendly vampire that walked me in and her flaming red hair. The Ravens brought a sleepy grin to my face. A grin that faded when I remembered the white-haired vampire and his less-than-friendly crimson eyes. And then, I slid out my favorite memory . . . and my palm slid down my stomach. When I turned and saw the skeleton man, his leather jacket and that malicious look in his blue eyes. I slipped my hand under my panties. I thought of Ames and his sideways grin when he rubbed his hand through his black hair. I could marry them both together for this fantasy. My fingers found their mark. My mind drifted to the butterflies that erupted when the crowd parted and I saw him again. The way he extended his hand and pulled me close. Our dance that took my breath away. I slipped a finger inside and pumped slowly in and out, stealing a gasp, and I tilted my head back. And then in my mind, Dr. Cove opened my car door and didn’t step back when I stood up. He was so close I wanted to wrap myself around him. His hair moved off his thick glasses just long enough I half wondered . . . God, wouldn’t that be something? If Ames Cove were my mystery skeleton man? It was absurd, and impossible, because he was standing next to my car right after. No man was that fast, not with how far away were were from my car at The Brew Pump. But in my fantasy, Ames donned the skeleton man’s face and wrapped an arm around the small of my back, tugging me flush to him. It was his hand, not mine, that snaked between my thighs and found me wet and wanting. A small orgasm built, and then in my fantasy, he pressed his lips to mine. God, I wonder what his kiss tastes like . . . My climax rippled through me like a pebble tossed in a pond. With a soft sigh, I pulled my hand out of the fabric’s hold. How I wished for something thunderous and loud and not small and timid. But that would have to be enough.