Page 7 of Hot Ghoul Summer (Pine Ridge Universe)

“ M olly? Molly, please wake up and drink something. Or eat? The fridge is absolutely stuffed with strawberries and chocolate hazelnut spread, so that must mean you like it because I’m a Jaffa Cakes man, m’self.”

I keep my eyes shut but speak, mumbling through dry lips. “This is what the sick ones do. They let you run, then they catch you. They almost kill you, then they try to coax you into trusting them. I’m not going to trust you.”

“Bloody hell. Fine, I’ll eat the hazelnut stuff.”

I crack open an eye and watch Toby eat, grimacing as he swallows. “That’s foul. Americans always putting nuts where they don’t belong. Peanut butter in chocolate! That’s an American thing, too. Orange goes in chocolate. Or a nice raspberry cream.”

Eyes shut, I shake my head. It’s... So sincere.

He’s really good at being bad.

That doesn’t excite me, but I think of Haley, my college roommate during junior year. She gobbled up dark romances with mafia hitmen and stalkers. She had more books than clothes in her minuscule closet. There was something thrilling to her about the idea of a dark, possessive guy who would throw caution to the wind and a woman over his shoulder or into his limo.

Well, Toby does have a beachfront mansion.

He’s also decidedly not human.

“Is this fun for you? Is that it? You catch humans to play with? What happens when you get bored? Do you find a new human to catch?”

There’s silence. “Molly, if you get up and eat something and take care of yourself, you can come with me when I leave the house today. I have to show you something, but you won’t like it.”

“It’s not Gary’s head on a stick or something, is it?” I rasp, the edge of a whimper in my voice.

It doesn’t make me feel better that he takes a long time to answer. “No.”

“Nn-nn.” I stay still, bladder killing me now that I’m awake. “I’m going to get a UTI thanks to you. Not that you care.”

I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have poked the big, scary, skull-faced bear with a killing stick. Stiff arms shoot under my thighs and back, and I scream and flail, adrenaline flying back through me as my eyes flare open.

Toby’s body is like iron against mine, every muscle rigid, his jaw stiff and eyes unblinking as I rain blows on him. He doesn’t flinch, just carries me out of the room—and drops me to my feet in the bathroom across the hall. His fingers stay stiff around my arms. For a second, it feels like he’s steadying me—but he’s a beast, isn’t he? I remember the sight of a dark figure wreathed in flames, the sound of metal and men cursing as the car flew through the air.

Whatever he’s doing for me isn’t for me. It’s for him.

“Use the bathroom. The shower, too.”

He doesn’t let go.

Sickness sweeps me. “Are you going to stay here while I do?”

His fingers fly off—but then his hands hover around my elbows as I sway. “No! I mean... No? I wasn’t going to? Are you too weak to manage on your own? Here, sit on the edge of the tub, and I’ll get that breakfast tray—”

“No. No, I can use the bathroom on my own.”

“But you’re right, You’ll get sick if you don’t eat, drink, or eliminate waste. The basics.” Those cold features are still pale, but suddenly full of pleading. “Look... If you don’t believe me after what I show you, then you can leave. I give you my word.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“Well... It’s all I’ve got.” His eyebrows suddenly scrunch together. “Wait... I saved you this morning! Those thugs were from Theo Cross—”

“You said his name was Nicky.” I suddenly rise and shove him backwards, out the door. I slam it shut, unzip, and sink to the toilet in utter relief.

Toby’s voice is timid from beyond the door. “Nicky Cross was the boss. He’s dead now. His brother, Theo, is in charge. Your ex-stepfather told Theo to come here to get you. He said you murdered Nicky Cross.”

“He what ?” I screech from my seat, knowing this is a lie. It’s all a lie. It has to be.

But... Like, a little part of me is suddenly wondering what’s a lie and what’s true. You would think that the lie would be that a man is some supernatural being not supposed to exist. If that’s not so far-fetched, then is my scummy ex-stepfather lying to get me here, then lying again to save his neck so unbelievable?

I slowly rise and start to step out of my clothes, eyes on the doorknob. I don’t bother to lock it. I’ve seen that he can move through anything he wants.

Helplessness wars with fighting spirit. He can do what he wants. How am I going to outsmart him or outfight him?

“He said you killed Nicky Cross. Then he told Theo where to find you. Theo sent men to this address. The house is cloaked, but you left the property when you made it to the road. I barely got here in time.”

My hands shake as they turn on the shower. The bathroom is beautiful, with gold taps and elegant marble swirls in the tub, but I can’t enjoy it. If he’s telling the truth, I ran for help—and ran into the arms of four men in an SUV who were only too willing to pull me inside. Did they say anything? Did they look like criminals?

That’s a dumb question. When Toby isn’t being the creature from everyone’s nightmares, he looks normal enough.

“There are towels in the closet. You want fresh clothes in there, or should I leave ‘em in your room?” Toby calls through the door.

“Are they the clothes of your last victim? Are they always my size?” I shout back. They say serial killers have a type. I wonder how many other “Mollys” there were before me.

Why do I poke the undead bear? Because I’m stupid, that’s why. Sometimes the fighting spirit wins when it shouldn’t.

But he hasn’t actually... hurt me. Even his little trick of popping me through the window didn’t leave me with a single cut or bruise.

“They’re for you. The closet in your room is full of things in your size. I’ll... I’ll leave a bathrobe on the doorknob. Yeah, that’s it.”

I risk a peep out through the filmy white shower curtain. He’s gone.

My hand presses the wall of the shower, propping myself up as water courses down my back at the perfect temperature and with the exact pressure I want. The really expensive shampoo and body wash I only get from my mom at Christmastime is resting on the built-in ledge, along with the body brush and loofah I wanted to order last week—but didn’t.

Like someone’s been getting this place ready for me for weeks.

Great. Death is a stalker.

That’s so absurd—this is all so absurd—that I start laughing. Laughter turns to sobs, and I can’t stop crying.

“Molly?”

“Aglp!” I make a noise that sounds like a goldfish stuck in a drain. “Get out of here!” I grab the body brush and hold it high.

Right, Moll. you’re going to beat an immortal to—what exactly? Or were you planning to give him a damn good exfoliation?

“I heard you crying. I feel like the worst person in the world.”

“Not a person,” I snap, stepping away from the shower curtain, arms crossed over my chest and one hand dangling down to cover what I meant to have waxed last week.

So many things I didn’t get to, that maybe I’ll never get to do because of the guy who sounds so sweet and innocent one second and who flips an SUV the next.

“Well, I’m a semi-person, and I bet you anything you like that by midnight tonight you’ll see staying here with me in this nice, comfy beach house—”

“Prison!” I correct, still huddling away from the silhouette I see on the shower curtain, as if something horrible will happen if his shadow touches me. Maybe it will.

“Make the bet, Molly.”

“No.” He’ll ask for my life or—something sick.

“You get to leave if you don’t ask me to bring you back here. Bet?”

“How do I know you’ll let me go?”

“You have to trust me.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Toby sighs, and I see his shadow grow, rising from his average human height and turning into something towering. The edges of his silhouette waver as if he’s gone reaper flambé again. “My scythe.”

Something shining and silver is glinting over the top of the shower curtain.

“God! Psycho much? Put that thing down before it falls and turns me into sushi!” I grab the shower curtain and tug it around me like the world’s worst wrap dress.

I stare at what’s in front of me. The skull-like face flickers between human features and dead white bone, but it’s not the full-on flaming thing of nightmares I saw earlier.

“Without my scythe, I can’t reap. It’s never supposed to leave my presence. It can only be handed off willingly, by me, or taken by my superiors. It’s a good bet. You should take it.”

“You can’t kill without that?”

The face shifts completely, and the body shrinks. Toby doesn’t say anything.

“Can you still kill people without that thing?” I prompt.

“I could do anything for you,” he says softly. The scythe shrinks, too, flattening and condensing, until a switchblade sits in Toby’s hand. His robes revert back to a hoodie, and the knife slips inside the kangaroo pouch pocket in the front. “This removes souls. So does a hangman’s noose or a bullet. A speeding car, a pair of hands. If anyone tried to hurt you, I wouldn’t need my scythe to stop them.”

The voice is dark and low, gritty, and giving off powerful waves of the East End. I don’t want to feel anything like interest towards this freak, but...

Shit, no man has ever even offered to defend me from a wasp. (Literally, I remember my dad running into the house and slamming the door, leaving four-year-old me outside with a nest of yellow jackets when he ran over them with the lawnmower.) This dude thinks there are human traffickers or mafia hitmen after me, or something. Loser One and Loser Two would have thrown me in their path or used me as a human shield.

Damn it. That’s just what Toby said Gary did.

He’s probably still just playing you, Molly.

Take the bet. Yeah, he’ll probably go back on it, but if he doesn’t, you’re free. You’ll just make sure that you ask to leave instead of stay. Simple.

“Bet.” I point to the door and pretend that I don’t notice how badly my hand shakes from dehydration and stress. “But you leave. I shower alone.”

Toby nods and backs out at once, shutting the door softly behind him.

My whole body unravels like a broken rubber band. I get clean, swallow mouthfuls of warm water just to try to get some fluids in my system, and then sit under the spray for a long, long time.

I LEAVE MOLLY ALONE . I send Musketeer up to check on her a few times, and he doesn’t bark or whimper, so that’s a good sign.

I’ve left tons of food and clothes out, and there’s a television in the bedroom. Books appeared in the hall outside her door, too. Molly’s thoughts must be losing their panicked edge, and the house’s unique abilities to provide have kicked in. The presence of books indicates that there’s been a shift from mere survival to something more relaxed.

Good. She’ll be spending more time here. I hope she’ll come out of her room, at least.

I don’t bother to hover over her—I’m too busy hovering over Gary Garmin and Theo Cross, who have parted company for now. Theo will likely send someone after him soon, but right now he’s busy scrambling with four of his underlings out of commission. The conversation is taking a turn that’s going to be decidedly interesting to Molly.

It’s time to break another rule and take a mortal with me on a little trip.

“Molly!” I rap on her door, a hard edge in my voice.

“I don’t want dinner. The chocolate and strawberries morphed into chicken strips about twenty minutes ago. With amazing honey mustard. For a prison, the menu is five-star.”

I groan and drag my hand down my face. “I’ll tell God later. No, He already knows. Come on! Time to show you that I’m not a monster.”

Molly opens the door, and my eyes practically double in size like a lovestruck cartoon character. She’s wearing a little black top and tight jean shorts that hug her bottom.

“You’re still a monster,” she informs me in a monotone voice, face flat.

“Fine, time to prove that I’m a helpful monster.”

“No such thing,” she sighs, hesitantly opening her door a little wider. “What do you want me to see?”

“Nothing here. We’re going to see Theo Cross.”

“What? Wait, didn’t you say he’s the bad guy? Did you switch sides while I was in the shower?” Molly rubs her temples suddenly. “I guess I’d need to know what side you were on in the first place...”

“I told you what side I’m on, you just don’t believe me. Well, seeing is believing, and I don’t have time to talk about this. I’m taking you with me, and you’re keeping your mouth shut and your ears open. Understood?” I demand, not caring if I sound terrifying.

Molly nods once, a frown etching into her features. I grab her elbow, and she fights me until I squeeze hard—then she stands still, defiance in her eyes.

Maybe I am a monster. I consider using the darker, more powerful side of my being to make her submissive, make her safe.

But I love her fire.

Just like her namesake hundreds of years ago.

“Let’s go,” I say softly, and then we do.

I’M HAVING A LOT OF trouble with my body right now. I’m sure it’s exhaustion and fear. I don’t like being pressed close to Toby.

But I guess part of my overtaxed system doesn’t understand that his big scary Reaper form is bad. It just feels—protected.

I do feel safe and hidden as Toby clutches me to his chest, his robes pulled over me, only leaving an inch of space between the edges of black fabric for my eyes.

The room we’re in smells like money—a mix of expensive leather, top-shelf alcohol, pricey cologne, and Cuban cigars.

In the middle of this office, a red-faced man paces while yelling into a phone, one hand pressed to his sweating brow while the other jams the phone to his cheek.

“I don’t care if you still have eyes on Garmin. You can’t kill him until we get the girl.”

I gasp, and Toby’s hand suddenly claps over my mouth.

“Sorry. Reflexes,” he whispers in my ear, hand dropping away.

“Look, Ryan, I don’t care if the shipment is a little delayed. Delgado knows we’ll get it across the lake eventually. Right now, I need to take care of things for my brother. I’ve got cops prowling all over my house, my business, the boats can’t dock...”

There’s a long pause.

“Well, too bad! Four of my guys are in the hospital or holding cells. You want business to move faster, help me find this Molly chick. She killed Nicky and— What? No, I don’t care if she did or if Garmin did it. He’ll get his, but not until he pays us back, with a lot of interest. The daughter is just the start.”

He passes close to where we stand along the wall, invisible and yet taking up space. I can tell that something repels Theo Cross, who changes his pacing pattern each time he enters our zone, body somehow aware of the unseen obstacle.

“You want me to loan you someone? Carlo is an ex-Marine. Sniper.” I hear the voice on the phone as clearly as if it’s pressed to my ear, not Theo’s.

My knees buckle, and Toby’s arm wraps around my waist to keep me upright.

“Killing her is too easy. She needs to pay, first. She can start by letting me use that pretty face for target practice. Of course, by the time I’m done, she won’t be so pretty anymore.”

“Headshots? You won’t have her for more than a few hours.”

“Hm. you’re right. Well. We’ll start at the other end and work our way up, pausing in the middle.” Theo makes a violent slashing motion across his waist, and my tense muscles clench even further, my stomach curling up like a scared armadillo.

“As long as it’s warm and wet,” the voice laughs.

I think I’m going to be sick. I’m definitely going to be sick. The armadillo-like ball of nerves in my stomach uncurls with explosive force. Strawberries and honey mustard leave sour, sickly traces in the back of my throat as I try not to vomit. They’re talking about me. About torturing me and killing me for something I didn’t even do—something my ex-stepfather says I did.

If I believe what Toby said—and right now it looks like I should—first, I was Gary’s bargaining chip, and now I’m his scapegoat.

Theo leans his elbow on the wall and pours something out of a heavy decanter. “That’s why Nicky and I made this business a success, Ryan. You’re thinking too small. This isn’t about getting a piece of tail. It’s about sending a message. Sometimes people think we’ll go soft on women. We’ll make sure no one ever makes that mistake again. No one crosses a Cross.”

“When you find her, let me know if you want some extra DNA to throw those detectives off the boys in your organization...”

“I appreciate that, Ryan. But I don’t plan on letting the police find her. Well, not more than a little piece here and there. What I could actually use is some more eyes around the beaches. That address Garmin gave us was no good, but the girl was still in the area.”

“I thought you didn’t get her?”

“We didn’t! But she was there, and someone tipped her off that we were coming. She ran right to my boys like she needed a getaway car, screaming for help.”

“Doesn’t make sense. Something is fishy somewhere. Garmin didn’t call her?”

“He couldn’t have. I was in the room with him.”

“Did you see his phone? He might have had it on speaker somewhere in the room before you came in.”

“Hm. That might be it. Ooh, that little shit has been a thorn in my side ever since his old lady threw him out.”

“Nicky shoulda finished him.”

Theo agrees heavily. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda, right?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Toby agrees in a low snarl.

My knees begin to shake as Theo and Ryan start talking about how Nicky liked to “play with his food” for too long before finishing his meal.

The euphemisms somehow make it worse. All I can picture is being attacked by a pack of ravenous, snarling wolves, all ripping and biting at me.

Theo suddenly groans, loud enough to break the cycle of panic in my head. “She could be on a plane by now—but I’m not sure if all the cops that came to the scene of the accident and the ones all over the piers and beaches investigating Nicky’s death would keep her in place, laying low. I’m going to have to send Billy to pay a little visit to Garmin when he stops for the night—have to tell him to bring the bastard back to town. What? No, of course I didn’t just leave him! I’ve had a tail on him for hours. He probably knows where the girl is, if she’s running or hiding. Might send someone to watch his ex-wife’s place. Find the girl’s apartment. Her college roommate. Whatever it takes.”

“Don’t be stupid, Theo. At some point, you’re going to attract too much attention,” the voice on the phone is loud and heavy with caution as Theo returns to the island of expensive liquor bottles and decanters beside our hiding spot.

“Ryan—Nicky raised me after our father died. Taught me the business. And he’s gone too soon... There is nothing in this world that can stop me from hunting down whoever did this and making them pay. As long as I’m alive—that girl will have a target on her back.”

Shaky knees have turned to whole body tremors. Toby swaddles me in his cloak, pressing me against him, turning me from the scene of Theo Cross draining another shot of whiskey. “We’ve seen enough.”

MOLLY CAN’T STOP SHAKING , and she’s as pale as I am. I hold her hands as we sit at the kitchen table, and miraculously, she lets me do it. I rub her fingers, trying to get some color and warmth back into her. “It’s okay, love,” I soothe.

Her hollow eyes suddenly focus on me. “ Excuse me? What? How is this okay? Did you not hear him? He won’t stop until he finds me. He won’t rest until he’s dead.”

I smile, and maybe I shouldn’t. I know there’s something off in the way I’m looking at her. It’s not my usual kind, gentle face. There’s something dark and angry that I’ve been waiting to unleash for the last four centuries, some fury at the hunters who stalk innocent prey. “I heard him, indeed. Nothing on this earth can stop him. He’ll hunt you until he’s dead.”

Molly’s eyes stare into mine.

“No human can stop him?” I show her the skeletal digits I keep for “special occasions,” my bony fingers wrapping around hers. “Not quite human. Won’t rest until he’s dead?” My smile widens. “I can arrange that.”

And for the first time since I met her... Molly smiles back.