Page 104 of Goldilocks
Yes, he was.
“There’s a monster at the house,” Sam said. There wasn’t time to worry about what or how much he should tell Ivan. He knew about Roan, and he cared about Eric. He was getting a damn pass.
“A ghoul,” Jasper said. “They can be strong…depending on how much they have eaten.”
Sam’s hands trembled, so he gripped the wheel harder. Roan’s sister had died to a ghoul. Amerpersonhad died to one of the things in Sam’s house. And now he was driving there above the speed limit to go and face it?
“We’ll grab Eric and get out as fast as we can,” Sam said. “The best thing will be if it’s not there at all.”
It liked to hide, right? So maybe if Sam showed up with Ivan and Jasper, it would slink away and not bother them. He wished he had Roan with him. Or Adonis. But at least he had Jasper with his sword, and Ivan, who was no small man either. They would be fine.
Sam’s turn came up, and he slammed on his squealing brakes to make the bend. Ivan and Jasper both flew forward, neither wearing a seatbelt. Jasper slammed into the dash, and Ivan fell between the seats, managing to smash his head on it too.
“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Ivan growled, cupping his forehead as he got himself orientated.
Pebbles skidded through the air, pelting the house. Cracks spider-webbed across the front windows. The windshield of Ivan’s parked car, sitting in Sam’s usual spot, shattered. The front door swung open under the barrage of stones.
Sam barely spared a glance at the empty car.
The open door.
He jumped out, leaving the engine running.
Fear roared through him, but he forced his feet forward. His body screamed to stop, but his mind knew Eric was inside.
“Eric!” Sam called, shoving open the door that a draft was blowing closed on him. He stepped into the hallway, and his body locked up. Three doors on his right, the kitchen followed by his dad’s room, followed by what used to be Eric’s room. Three doors on the left, the living room, then the bathroom, then Sam’s room. And right at the very end, between Sam and Eric’s bedroom doors, was a ladder. A ladder leading straight up into a perfect black square.
The attic.
A putrid stench assaulted Sam’s nose. He tried to block it with the back of his hand, the intensity making him gag. It smelled like decay. Like week-old ripe and rotting roadkill. Humid heat rose around Sam, enclosing him in air that he didn’t want in his lungs. Air that stoked the panic in his mind the same way oxygen fed a fire.
Jasper pushed Sam to the side as he entered the house. He, too, went still, his nose scrunching up.
“What is that smell?” Ivan cursed. “Eric?” he called. He came to stand side by side with Sam.
“A corpse,” Jasper answered. Sword out, he looked left to right, peering through the immediate doorways.
A creak sounded overhead.
Their heads snapped up. The ceiling, stained with watermarks and lined with cobwebs, groaned again. The steps moved away, steady, deliberate. Sunlight filtered through the open door, illuminating the drifting dust falling from the ceiling’s vibrations.A large stride, Sam thought dimly. The footsteps led toward the trapdoor. Boards creaked at the edge of the black square.
Sam stood frozen.
A phone rang. Down at the very end of the hall and to the right. The only door in the house that was closed. Ivan angled his screen toward Sam and showed him the outgoing call to Eric. Ivan seized Sam’s elbow and dragged him close. Sweat dampened Ivan’s shirt to his body, and through the white fabric, he saw black lines, whirling designs. More tattoos.
“Go around,” he whispered. “Check the window.”
Then he turned, yanked a dagger from Jasper’s belt, and gripped it tight.
Sam ran.
Outside, the air was hot, dry. The sun scorched the back of his neck, the breeze offering no relief. Sam reached for the band at his neck and gripped Roan’s gift to him tightly. Golden scales, sharpened to a little knife.
Sam pushed open the garden gate that squeaked, saw a glimpse of a stone stained brown with old blood. Reaching Eric’s window, he peered inside. The glass was filthy, but he could make out a toppled dresser, blocking the door. Bent over in the corner, clutching his head, was Eric.
Sam watched Eric’s shoulders heave, and relief shivered through him.
He forced down his first instinct to yell and instead tapped lightly on the window. Eric’s head jerked up, pale. Bloodied. When he saw Sam, his eyes widened, and he got to his feet, swaying unsteadily and half falling against the desk. Quaking hands undid the latch, and Sam helped push the window open.