Page 40 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
I glare at her. “Youbelievethis?”
“I believe something’s happening. I believe you shouldn’t have been able to pull me out of the water. I believe your scars are showing up in my dreams. And I believe my father left me a map tothatvault for a reason.”
She turns to Lyle. “So what’s your play here, Brightwater? You want to help or just write us into your next blog post?”
He tilts his head. “Help, obviously. Fame’s great, but curses are better when they don’t kill your friends.”
“Great,” she says. “Then where’s the vault’s key?”
Lyle hesitates.
“There’s… one more site. Another line point. Beneath the cliffs. Old smugglers’ tunnel. I haven’t gone in—yet.”
Sienna sighs. “Then we go tonight.”
I catch her wrist. “No.”
She doesn’t pull away. But she doesn’t back down, either.
“You nearly drowned last time,” I snap. “I’m not dragging you out of the ocean again.”
“Then don’t,” she says. “Walk beside me instead.”
And damn her.
Shemeansit.
She trusts me. This sharp-edged, trauma-wrapped woman who flinches when people raise their voice and jokes her way out of grief—she’s asking me tochoosethis. Chooseher.
I step back.
Because if I don’t, I’ll do something stupid like reach for her hand.
Lyle, somehow reading the room and not poking it with a stick, clears his throat. “Sun sets in two hours. Tunnel entrance floods at high tide. You’ve got a window.”
Sienna grabs her jacket. “Then let’s go before the universe slams it shut.”
I follow her out the door into the rising dusk.
I’m not sure if I’m chasing fate or if it’s chasingme.
CHAPTER 16
ELIAS
Idon’t mean to linger.
I never do.
But I find myself at the edge of Mira’s threshold again, not quite inside, not quite out, like I’ve forgotten how doors work. The scent of rosemary and protective wards buzzes just under my skin, static and sharp. It’s stronger now.Shemade it that way.
“You planning to loiter or float through the drywall again?” Mira’s voice cuts through the air, all flint and salt.
I step inside, slow. Deliberate.
She’s at the counter, grinding something that looks like bone and smells like judgment. Her gaze flicks up just long enough to flay me alive.
“You’re gettingtoogood at that,” she mutters.
