Page 29 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
“You coming?” I ask.
He gives me a look like I’ve just suggested he abandon the wreck and join a circus. “You’re really going to walk into a den of smugglers and ask about the man who cursed me?”
I grin. “It’s Tuesday. What else am I doing?”
He almost smiles.
Almost.
The tavern is calledThe Drowned Gull, which sounds like a pub designed by Edgar Allan Poe during a hangover.
It’s nestled behind a row of rusting trawlers and guarded by a stone archway carved with old sea runes. The smell hits first—fish, damp wood, and something vaguely like regret.
Inside, it’s even worse.
Dim lighting. Sticky floors. A bartender who looks like she bites people for fun. But the whispers are there. Old magic. Relic energy. Things I’m learning to feel like a heartbeat under the skin.
Elias stays invisible, leaning close when I need guidance.
“That one,” he murmurs in my ear. “Second table. She used to broker for the south covens.”
I walk over, put on my best “don’t screw with me” face, and sit across from a woman with gold teeth and tattoos that move like they’re breathing.
“You know the name Greaves?” I ask her.
She freezes.
Then laughs—harsh and humorless. “No one smart asks that name out loud.”
“Good thing I’m not known for my brains,” I reply breezily.
The woman leans forward. “You want to walk out of here with your skin still zipped, little witch, you forget that name.”
I slide the coin across the table.
She stares at it.
Then at me.
Then at something just behind me—where Elias stands, unseen butfelt.
Her eyes widen.
She mutters something under her breath and bolts from the table.
I stare after her.
“Well,” I say. “That went well.”
Elias sighs beside me.
“We’re getting close,” he says. “Too close.”
I grit my teeth.
“Then we keep pushing.”
Because if Greaves is still out there?
