Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (89)

I elevated her on her swing so we were eye to eye. “Kiss me,” I demanded. I wanted to feel her lips in my true form, something I’d never done, never considered before her. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips met mine with righteous purity.

Blythe kissed me like I was James Cove, stealing a kiss in the barn before church.

Blythe kissed me like Ames would kiss his wife before a priest on their wedding day.

Blythe kissed me like she believed she could love a fallen beast.

I kissed Blythe like the monster who stalked her in the night.

I kissed Blythe like a virtuously wicked thing I wanted to keep forever.

I kissed Blythe as if my entire woeful existence depended on it.

At this point, it did. She was everything. My only reason to roam this universe as the despicable being I was. Now I was hers.

Her slave for eternity.





Using cave water, I cleaned my perfect little Claimed girl. “Are you okay?” I asked as I gently wiped at her mouth. I’d keep the stain there forever if it were up to me, but she insisted on removing it.

“More than okay. I officially have another reason to love bats.”

I chuckled, and my laughter echoed through the cave. A few of the furry, winged animals brushed by us on our hike out, delighting Blythe to no end.

“I love seeing you happy. And there are few things rarer than love for something like me.”

She squeezed my hand. “I’m only human, but love is rare for me too.”

My Little Ghost understood and accepted me. Somehow, an angel showed empathy toward something so fallen, so evil.

As we crested the shadows of the cave, I changed back to my human form and got dressed while Blythe tied her long, tangled, and dark-stained hair back. I still wasn’t sorry she couldn’t wash that out yet. I felt the full weight of my body, my shorter frame, my weaker muscles. This wasn’t good enough for her. Weak ass Ames Cove wasn’t what she needed. The Ghost however . . .

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as we mounted my bike.

“Of course.”

“What happened to . . . my stepdad’s body?”

I turned and took her hand, speaking carefully. “We thought we’d leave it up to you. The wolves have it in the meantime. If you want them to handle it, they can, but if you want to . . . for closure, that’s an option too.”

It was my very unprofessional opinion after decades of schooling in psychology that people should be able to do whatever the fuck they wanted to their abuser. Fuck talk-therapy. What they needed for healing was blood. To see the piece of shit that harmed them in the ground. But society hadn’t caught up to that idea. Not yet, anyway.

She considered for a moment. “After I shower, can we stop by the grocery store?”

Her question caught me off guard. “Absolutely. Looking for anything in particular?”

“I want to get marshmallows. We’re having a bonfire tonight.”

The murderous gleam in her eye hardened my cock instantly. I growled low in my throat. “I like your style. You’re a little bit wicked, aren’t you, Little Ghost?”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow, repeating my words from weeks ago back to me. “Only sometimes.”





The wolves had the body waiting atop a hefty pile of wood when we arrived at Onyx’s farm. He, Wolfgang, and a few of the wolves straightened when we approached. “Hey . . . ,” Onyx said carefully. They were testing the waters, seeing if she was afraid or further traumatized by the events of last night. Blythe simply stomped over through the grass and tossed the marshmallows at Wolfgang’s chest. “Got any sticks?”

My friends and the wolves laughed heartily as they accommodated her. Onyx passed her a lighter. “Hey,” he whispered lowly. “What’s your favorite color?”

Her brows rose in confusion as she accepted the green Zippo. “Black,” she replied skeptically. “Why?”

Onyx shrugged. “No reason.”

Blythe knelt next to the wood pile, giving the limp body of her stepfather a quick glance. “I guess I got to watch you die twice. That’s nice,” she remarked, flicking the lighter. A flame caught on the tinder, and faster than humanly possible, a roaring, hissing, black fire overtook the mountain of logs. Blythe gasped and took a step back as the bonfire snaked and twirled, exploding into the night sky like a fireworks show, curtesy of our very own Dragon.

I flicked Onyx a look. “Show off.”

Wolfgang joked, “That vampire bravado is coming out to play.”

“Yeah, yeah,” our green-eyed friend replied, offering Blythe a small smile. She returned it from where she stood near the flame and mouthed, thank you.

The teenage wolven, Lupus and Freki, did well to lighten the mood as they tossed a frisbee back and forth. Wolfgang pleaded for Blythe to join, and when she did, the wolves howled and hollered. They were brutes, but they were lovable brutes. It was impossible to be sad with the pack. And I suspected that was why my friend had brought them along.

As much as I wanted to admonish them for being all up in my business with Blythe, I was thankful they were looking out for her well-being as fervently as I was.

Onyx gravitated toward her in the field. I unabashedly eavesdropped to make sure he stayed in line. She pulled her gaze from the wolven boys playing frisbee and addressed him, “So, you have fire powers?”