Page 4 of Amber Gambler

“Except running is peaceful.” I fell in step with him on the stairs. “Evasive maneuvers are not.”

We passed Harrow on the bench in the herb garden, but he was on his phone, so I waved bye to him.

As soon as Matty and I climbed in my 1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Nomad station wagon, he stretched his arm across the back of the turquoise-and-ivory-striped bench seat. The casual move shouldn’t have locked the muscles in my neck, but tension raised my shoulders up around my ears. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“There was a disturbance on the dream plane last night.” He drummed his fingers. “Above the shop.”

Cold sweat dotted my spine as I aimed the wagon toward Bonaventure Cemetery. “Oh?”

“Locations don’t translate exactly from there to here, but I can always find my way home.”

Home, I knew without him saying so, was Josie and me. Not our house or the garage. Us. His sisters.

“The sky looked bruised the way it does before a tornado touches down.”

Palms slick on the wheel, I wished wiping them dry wouldn’t give away my nerves. “Okay.”

“Frankie.” He gripped my shoulder. “It’s a lot of things, butokayis not one of them.”

Hard as I tried to rein in my temper, it got away from me. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He squeezed once then let go. “We need to talk to her.”

Her.Not me.Her.

“To Josie.” Sweet relief whispered through me as I let myself off the hook. “About nightmares.”

“What’s with you?” He squinted as if that might help him see into my brain. “You’re not all here.”

“Harrow blames Kierce for what happened to Lyle, and he views Badb as his ticket to revenge.”

“Ah.” He hummed low in his throat. “Harrow is in denial.”

Angling my chin toward him, I kept my eyes on the road. “How do you figure?”

“Badb’s milkshake isn’t what will bring that particular boy back to the yard.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Kiercelikesyou, Mary. Demigods don’t meddle in the affairs of mortals for no reason. He didn’t have to introduce himself, but he couldn’t resist approaching you.” He resumed tapping his fingers behind me. “He also saved my life when he broke the sleep curse.Ourlives. That earns him a pass for being, well, peculiar.”

“Josie called him a psycho killer,” I mused, “right up until she set eyes on him.”

“That’s because he looks like he fell out of that goblin K-drama we binged last week.”

“Guardian: The Lonely and Great God.”

An oldie but a goodie, which was on brand for me.

“Yes.” He snapped his fingers. “That one.”

As I pulled into a parking space near the restrooms, I couldn’t stop my hungry gaze from wandering over the moss-shrouded tombs and sprawling live oaks beyond the wrought iron fence in search of a figure as pale as moonlight with eyes the color of fog blanketing a cemetery.

“Mary?” Matty cleared his throat. “The clock is ticking.”

“Yeah.” After killing the engine, I clenched the keys in my hand until the metal bit into my skin. “Right.”

Per our usual routine, he ducked into the men’s bathroom, ensuring it was empty before sticking out his hand in a thumbs-up gesture. Darting glances left to right, I hurried across the sidewalk and let myself in. Wedging a shoulder against the door from the inside, I turned the lock to give us a moment of privacy.

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