Page 12 of Hot Ghoul Summer (Pine Ridge Universe)

B oom!

“What the bloody fuck?” I stumble upright, leaving Molly’s warm, naked body.

She sits up, too, body flushed and a little swollen from a marathon of lovemaking. The house was very... accommodating, providing a snack tray and a bottle of slippery goodness anytime we finished. Apparently, the house is a fan of repeat performances.

“What’s happening?” Molly jumps up and immediately sits back down. A cascade of shimmering cum coats her thighs and trails down her legs.

“I’ll take care of it, whatever it is.”

“Someone’s screaming!” Molly gasps, running for the bathroom.

I look out the window. Two black SUVs are barely visible at the end of Silverlake Way, and Number 30’s fence is on fire.

“Musketeer!” I roar.

A hellhound with three heads and a trio of snarling, snapping jaws rushes to my side.

“We have to intervene. Paperwork be damned.” And I might be, too...

WIPED OFF AND IN A clean terrycloth romper (I’d look cute if I wasn’t terrified), I rush downstairs. There will be time to shower later if the world hasn’t ended. “Toby? Toby?”

No answer.

I run to the front door and open it, but something like an invisible wall slams down when I try to cross the threshold.

Still, I can see what’s happening from the open door. Clouds of smoke billow across the narrow, secluded street, and flames lick fences and lawns. One car is engulfed in fire. I’m guessing that was the boom we heard.

Black SUVs prowl past.

Why set the fire and stick around?

To catch whoever comes running out.

To catch me.

But this house and its property sit serene, untouched, unable to be found. I don’t know if the fire will eventually cross the invisible boundaries that make this place safe and hidden from the rest of the world.

Right now, families are pouring into the street, moms hugging coughing kids to their chests, dads screaming into cell phones as they grapple with fire extinguishers. An elderly couple is standing in the street, looking at the fiery shell of their car.

“Toby! Let me out!” I kick the door and shout. “I’m a nurse, damn it! I can help!”

But I’m helpless. Safe, but helpless.

What if someone dies out there because of me?

Theo Cross needs to die. The thought lands in my head and sticks harder than ever. He could have killed those kids. Those whole families! Why? Just because Gary told him I killed his brother. No evidence, no trial, nothing, and he decides to play judge, jury, and executioner.

“Toby!” I scream.

My phone. I’ll call 911.

It’s small, but I can do that.

As I rush for my purse, I see Musketeer charging past, body in full flaming glory.

My heart stops as I watch the dog leap over the road and grab the burning car by the fender as if it's nothing. No one screams.

Does no one see him? Or does he blend in, one ball of flame beside another?

“Good boys! Dump it in the water, fellas!” Toby shouts.

I crane my neck to see where my boyfriend is, painful anxiety settling in my stomach. T oby won’t let them get away.

But if he hurts them, what’s going to happen to him?

If he does let them get away—will they show up at my mother’s place? Could my aunts and cousins be next? My cousin Linda is pregnant. I sit down hard when my knees give out.

If they touch Linda and that baby, so help me God, I will kill Theo Cross myself, and I’ll do it step-by-step, the anatomy training manual way.

God, please. You’ve got to make some exceptions to the rules here. Toby’s only trying to save people...

I watch as Toby moves through a wall of black smoke. The next thing I see is a jet of water shooting across the sky.

He’s back, and the same thing happens again.

“What is he...?” I squint and try to figure it out. I think he just ripped a water pipe out of the ground in front of each flaming house.

The fires fade in moments, and I watch Toby march back over and join Musketeer. I see a blue glow, concentrated and narrow like the beam of an acetylene torch, and then a perfect cascade of mud.

Sirens scream nearby, and I put my face in my hands.

The black SUVs leave. They didn’t get their target, but they’ll try again. I can’t stay hidden forever. Next time, they might be more direct. They could grab my mom. My cousins. An innocent hostage. I’d have to come out unless I wanted to live with blood on my hands.

A feeling of sickness swamps me, and I stay where I am, watching the aftermath until Musketeer, now small and stubby, wet, muddy, and smoky, toddles through the glass as if it’s nothing.

“Oh, good boys! The goodest good boys in the whole world or underworld!” I gush, hugging the furry, wriggling body. Three pink tongues attack me, and muddy paws leave marks on my bare legs and clean romper. I don’t give a flying furball. I kiss each furry head and refuse to let go until Toby comes back.

When he does, he’s in full war paint. His human face is barely visible under a flame-kissed skull. He smells like smoke, and the hem of his cloak is soaked, leaving wet trails across the porch.

“Theo Cross is a dead man,” he growls.

“I agree,” I whisper.

The flames shrink. The dark eye sockets fade. “You do?”

“But you can’t kill him. They’ll take you away from us.” I stand up with Musketeer still in my arms and step into his embrace.

Toby hugs me tight as I let out a shaking sigh. I want this. I want this to be the start of my own little family.

You know? Nurse. Boyfriend. Dog. First apartment? Or would I move into his house?

Stop thinking like that. First, you get to the part where you live.

“We’ll leave. We’ll go away somewhere. You can work anywhere there are sick people! I can work anywhere where there are people!” Toby says in an excited voice.

“He’ll take my mom.”

Toby stills. “He would, yeah.”

“We have to do something else—something to make him call off the hunt for me.”

“He won’t do that unless you’re dead,” Toby says, tightening his grip.

I think for a moment. “Well. Then let’s make him think I am.”