Page 75 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
Hex holds my eyes for a beat too long, and just before I catch on, he cracks a smile.
“No. I’m messing with you. I go to UNAM in Mexico City.”
Iris chirps first. “Holy shit, you were scary convincing. I’m never playing poker with you.”
Hex nods sagely. “That’s probably in your best interest.”
“You shouldn’t joke about ghosts.” Kris shudders next to me. “Don’t draw attention to that kind of shit.”
Hex’s grin collapses. “By the very nature of being a Halloween prince, I draw the attention ofthat sort of stuffwhether I joke about it or not. For instance—are you aware of the ghosts that haunt your palace?”
Kris’s gaze narrows in suspicion. Then widens again in concern.
Narrow. Wide.
Is he being fucked with? He really can’t seem to decide.
On a blink, Hex’s already dark eyes go completely black in such a startling switch from normal to something demonic that even I jump.
Kris honest-to-godsqueaks.
Iris seems more amused by Kris’s reaction than by whatever Hex is doing.
“I can still hear them, even out here,” Hex says, his voice a little echoey, a little ethereal, those black eyes unfocused. “They wail for you, Kristopher. The ghosts… of Christmas past, present, and future.”
Another blink, and Hex’s eyes go back to normal, matched by a toying smile.
Kris’s discomfort vanishes with an immediate surge of red to his cheeks. “Oh, fuck off.”
I bark a laugh and put a hand to Kris’s chest. “Shit, dude, your heart is racing.”
“His eyes wentblack.” He smacks me away and frowns at Hex before pointing at his own eyes. “Halloween’s magic?”
My brows shoot up. “And the other explanation would be…?”
“I don’t—it could’ve—oh, you fuck off too.”
Hex looks like he’s weighing prolonging this torture with Kris. Finally, he relents with a smile and a nod. “Yes, it was magic. I considered creating an apparition flying alongside our sleigh, but—”
“No,” Kris says immediately, then clears his throat. “I mean, no, we don’t need any more demonstrations of Halloween’s magic. Thanks. Consider us sufficientlyoohedandahhed.”
“If you do create an apparition”—Iris leans over to Hex and feigns a whisper behind her hand—“have it look like a clown.”
Hex crooks one eyebrow, sizes up Kris, and makes a thoughtful, mildly devilish hum in his throat.
Fuck, why is that hot.
Kris sucks his teeth. “I hate everyone in this sleigh.”
Taking pity on my brother—and suddenly desperate to change the topic away from anything that makes me have to adjust how I’m sitting—I grin at Hex. “So what do you study at UNAM? Other than the occult. Or—no, no, wait.” I shift upright and hold my hands out like I’m keeping everyone from leaping out of the sleigh. “Everyone say their major on three.”
Iris rolls her eyes.
“One, two, three—”
Iris and Kris simultaneously say, “International Relations.”
I go, “Global Affairs,” and mime gagging.
