Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (65)

My dick swelled in pain and longing. Wanting her. She’d murdered him. I wanted to fuck her and show her how not afraid that made me. But how was he . . . No . . . Who was he? Who was in his body still?

“I didn’t shed a tear, Ames. God, I’m so evil. But I felt better. I thought I’d leave and never look back. And I did . . . until the letters started coming. At first, I ignored them . . . but then I’d see his truck . . . and him. Him, Ames. I killed him. He was dead but he’s chasing me. It doesn’t make sense.” She searched my stare. “You think I’m crazy and traumatized, I know—”

“I believe you, Blythe.”

Fresh tears streamed down her face, and the taste of relief and sadness felt thick between us. “We’ll figure this out, I swear to you.”

She nodded weakly. She believed me this time, and something warmed inside me. Something warm alongside the raging inferno of hate and wrath I’d rain down on this demon who’d evaded us. This fucker who thought they could pull one over on Ghost. No, The goddamn Halloween Boys would find this thing and fucking shred it. I salivated with bloodlust as I put Blythe in the passenger seat and took over the driver’s side. Reversing, I took her back home, with me.

Her home. Our home. Ash Grove.

And this time I wouldn’t let either of them down.

This time I would keep them both safe.

This time, I wouldn’t fail.





CHAPTER 24





Ames





FORKED TONGUES





True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

Francois de La Rochefoucauld





“What about your car?” was the only thing she uttered on the too-quiet drive home.

I raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t figured out that we rarely drive?”

“So you and Onyx and Wolf are just . . . lurking around the woods?”

I chuckled. “Something like that, yeah.”

When we arrived where the red and blue light filtered in through the stained glass, Blythe picked at her nails as she walked timidly to the window.

“You’re quiet,” I said, tossing her keys on the counter.

Her back was to me, but I knew she felt apprehension. She sucked in a breath, still not turning around. “You’re a serial killer.” A statement, not a question.

“I’ve murdered a lot of people, if that’s what you’re asking, yes.” I took a step closer, catching the smallest glimpse of her fragile features in the colorful window’s reflection. “But I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” she replied quickly. “Have you killed . . . good people?”

That was an important question. If someone could get past the murder part, if their morals were flexible enough for that, it had to be for a good reason. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one. What could I tell her? I’m a cursed demon who fucked over the town a couple hundred years ago? That bloodlust and savagery runs through my veins like a living breathing entity? Should I have told her I was the bad guy in all the stories from the Bible, to ancient Greece and Rome, to occult and pagan superstition? There was no religion, no spirituality, no organized thought in this world that saw me as anything other than exactly what I was: evil. If this was happening, and it seemed it must now, she would have to know. Something was inhabiting the man she killed, she knew it, and that wasn’t a natural human occurrence. Blythe was a part of my world long before I came along. But I could help her. I could save her. But I’d need to ease her in.

“I have, yes,” I replied honestly. “Though not for a very long time.” The confession struck in my gut, and I waited for her rejection. When it didn’t come, I placed my palm in quiet test on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch.

She swallowed, clutching her hands together. “I know it sounds impossible, but he was dead, Ames. And now he’s following me. How do you kill a dead man?”

“There are ways,” I answered smoothly. “I’ll start with slicing his throat,” I whispered, dropping my lips to her neck. Her breath hitched as sweet arousal hit my taste buds like honeycomb fresh from the hive. I trailed a knuckle gently down her arm as I pushed up closer to her perfect ass. “The blood gushes from the neck. It can flow down their arms, dying them red. I’ll start with that.” As her breathing picked up, her head fell back, resting on my chest. I wrapped my other arm around her, trailing it down her stomach, pushing her shirt aside to get another feel of her silky skin. My cock pulsated so hard it hurt, pressed flush to her, wanting to sink inside.

“Ames,” she said on a breath. A plea for more, and to stop. I’d only give her one of those. And I didn’t plan on stopping unless she begged. Even then . . .

I dipped my fingers beneath the waistline of her jeans, finding the thin fabric underneath. She sucked in a small moan and leaned back into me. I gave her neck another kiss as I allowed my greedy palm to cup her overtop her panties. “Then, while he’s bleeding out slowly . . .” I circled her softly. “I’ll saw off his dick.”

Blythe let out a heavenly moan as I pushed her panties aside, slipping a finger over the wetness awaiting me. “God,” she breathed.

“Furthest thing from it, darling,” I whispered. “I need to taste you.”