Page 5 of The Hallows Boys

I sniffle, laughing at myself a little.

“Don’t you apologize to me, honey. You’ve been through more than a young lady should.” Her voice spreads warmth through me, the twang of her accent making me smile.

“Now”—she waves a hand—“let me get a good look at my granddaughter. I haven’t seen you since you was a baby.”

I step back. “We’ve met?”

She nods, her lips pressing into a dissatisfied line. “Your mama and daddy didn’t want ya growin’ up here, whisked you away to sunny Los Angeles right after you was born.”

“Wait, I livedherebefore?” I shake my head in confusion.

I feel unease run a chill down my spine, making me visibly shiver, even though I’m standing in the sunshine. My grandmother clicks her tongue in displeasure, but before she can speak again, the cab driver is stepping up to drop my bags.

“Ma’am?”

I spin to look at him, forcing a smile his way as he wheels my bags to the stairs of the porch and gives me a warm grin that lights up his whole face.

Taking the handles of the suitcases, I drag them up the stairs. “Thank you so much.”

My grandmother pays him while I wheel them across the porch to the front door, then he’s tipping his head in goodbye and getting back into his car.

“Let’s get you situated, then, Sage. We can catch up over dinner.”

My grandmother grabs a suitcase, pulls the screen door open, and then pushes the wooden front door so we can head inside.

I can’t help the impending feeling that something isoff.Anxiety swirls in my gut as I wonder why my parents never told me about this place or my grandmother, why they lied to me about where I was born and who I really am.

ChapterThree

KAIDEN

The cemetery is filled with people by 11PM, all of them itching with the need to blow off steam from the week that just ended. I’m sitting on my favorite headstone, tilting a can of beer back to swallow down the cold liquid.

“I think this year is going to be the best yet,” Vinny says, his voice breaking through the thick, foggy atmosphere and pulling me from the daze I’ve fallen into.

I hum between my lips as I meet his gaze. “Why’s that?”

Beckham’s infectious laughter sounds from my opposite side. “Look at them.”

When I look at him, I find his dark blue eyes filled with humor and he nods his head toward the opposite side of the cemetery, making my attention pull to the line of girls that are sitting against the cement wall.

“They want our pick.” He tips his head one more time, his face twisted into a sinister grin that makes my chest fill with need.

Need for The Games.

Every girl with their gaze locked on us tries to come off more delectable when they realize they have our attention, pulling the tops of their shirts down to show more cleavage, fluffing their hair out, puffing their lips and applying a new coat of lip gloss, arching their backs to perk up their asses.

Not like any of that matters. Looks don’t matter to us, nothing they can do to their appearance will go into the final decision.

It’s afeeling.A burst of serotonin through our veins that makes it feel…Just. Fucking. Right.

Shehas to be right.

And none of us have hadThe Feelingyet. None of these girls areThe One.

The victim pool is starting to run dry. Ever since our identities of this generation’s Hallows Boys was made a topic of conversation in the halls at school, it’s felt more boring than anything.

The first year was the best – catching our girl off guard, dragging her through her worst fears before we finally took her to The Hallows Crypt. She had no idea what we were, no idea what we were capable of.

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