Page 47 of Hot Ghoul Summer

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. Toby 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.

---