Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (91)
I stopped mid-crunch. “I can’t just live with you. It’s too soon.”
He wrapped his strong arms around me from behind as I sat on his barstool. He smelled like his pine-scented body-wash, his skin still damp from his shower. “You’ll find that demons grow attached quickly. Time is relative. And with a legion after you, it’s either stay with me here, stay with the wolves in a shoebox they call a house, or stay with Onyx on his sprawling farm that’s stuck in the eighteen hundreds. Take your pick. But whichever you choose, I’m still going with you. That’s not optional.”
I sighed. “I like my spot at Magia.”
“When this is all over, I’ll build you one just like it. Or I’ll kick the witches out and take it over myself. Whatever I have to do to make you happy, I will. For now, your safety is the number one priority. We’ll focus on aesthetics later.” He reached over my shoulder and dipped a chip is salsa.
“So you eat?” I asked. “And sleep? Even as a demon?” I’d seen him do both all week. I’d also seen him shift into a demon. And it made some sort of sense why he liked the church. Its massive high ceilings and huge arched doorways accommodated his monstrous size.
He kissed my temple before going to the fridge and pulling out a decanter of water. He poured a glass. “Yes, if we’re in mortal form, it is beneficial to care for our human body. We don’t have to, we’d live without anything, but food, water, working out, it helps to strengthen our mortal forms. A lot of entities who shift to humans don’t realize these bodies are like vehicles; they require maintenance. And I don’t want to be weak in any form.”
He placed the water glass in front of me, and I took a long sip. “Does the town know who you are?”
“So curious today, Little Ghost.” He rummaged through his dresser and pulled out one of my The Doors shirts and a pair of ripped, black jeans. “Some do, some don’t. Some residents were caught up in the town’s curse and have been here as long as I have. Most don’t realize it, though. Your Mr. Moore, Charles, is one of them. His wife died of influenza before I was born. Their daughter, Ellie May . . . We knew each other as children, before she was . . . taken. But he’s forgotten over time as his body has slowly aged.”
My mouth dropped. “He has a doll he calls Ellie. That’s so incredibly sad, Ames. So, some of the townspeople are just . . . stuck? And they don’t know what’s happening? That’s horrible.” My heart sank. “Is there any way to help them?”
He tossed me the clothes and dropped the towel around his waist. Suddenly butterflies replaced the hole in my heart. “We’ve tried over the years. The witches have tried the most to free them. The curse was meant for us, not for them. What they need is death, and we can’t seem to find a way to give it to them.”
“How awful.” I shook my head, staring down at the clothes he tossed me. “You want me to wear these, I gather?”
“I don’t want you to wear anything ever. But the guys are on their way here, and I’ll be damned if they see you in only a robe.”
I finished my water before pulling on my jeans and shirt—no underwear. He’d probably rip them off me again soon anyway. “Can I ask you something else?” I hesitated as he stepped into jeans and a tugged on a black V-neck tee. His blue stare met mine, the only thing that looked exactly the same whether he was Ames, or the skeleton man, or Ghost. That entrancing color blue . . . The words stalled on my tongue. I had to know, though, if the answer changed anything for me. I was terrible enough to admit that it probably wouldn’t, but I had to ask. “Did you guys really do it? What they say you did to the town on Halloween?”
A voice sounded behind me, and I jumped. “Sounds like it’s story time in the Lord’s house. Shall I preach, or would you like to?” Onyx reached over me and grabbed a handful of chips. “Hey, Blythe,” he said, voice silky. His black hair glinted in the stained-glass glow. If Ames were a demon, Onyx looked like his angel counterpart. Where Ames was sharp and brooding, Onyx was chiseled and inviting. I shook off my perusal of his body, and he smirked a sideways smile, shooting me a wink. Maybe I was a nymphomaniac now. These guys were messing with me on a primal level.
Speaking of primal, Wolfgang stomped in, lacking any of the subtly or silence Onyx radiated. He tousled my hair, and I batted his thick arm away. Instead of fleeing my swats, he wrapped his big arms around me, pulling me to his barrel chest. I giggled, accepting the hug. “If you want good stories you should come listen to the elders at Fenrir. Our legends go way back. Plus the food’s good.”
So much had happened in such a short time: demons, demon sex, witches, shifting crows, seeing Onyx with green fire, and Wolfgang, the creature that whisked me away from danger. “I’d love to,” I replied as he sat me gently back onto my feet. Ghost’s eyes glowed, staring icy daggers at his friend, who only ignored him and grabbed beers from the fridge. “I was asking about how this all started for you guys. The things I’ve heard are infamous, to say the least.”
Onyx sat on the floor, leaning against the stone wall beneath the crimson stained glass. He was idly pursuing the town’s newspaper. “You missed a typo, Wolfgang.”
“Like hell I did.” Wolf stormed over.
“Right here, old boy. City complains about spoty cell coverage . . . ” He pointed. “Two ts not one.”