But I didn’t...take more than one.

I devoured the treat as we stepped into a courtyard. Frenzied cheers, loud and boisterous, assailed my ears. On a sudden sugar high, I scanned the crowd. Another fifty kids were here, male and female, ranging in age from twelve to twenty-five.

What had we walked into?

Silence descended the moment we were noticed. The throng parted down the center, and I felt like Moses at the Red Sea. More than one guy looked me up and down, and to be honest, it kind of gave me the creeps. I was all for being admired—who didn’t like to feel wanted?—but these guys weren’t sizing me up as a potential girlfriend; they were sizing me up as a potential dinner buffet.

One guy actually made an obscene gesture with his tongue and two fingers.

I guess Cole noticed, because he switched gears and performed a sweet little chest-bump I’d call “your only warning.”

“If you want to keep your tongue, you won’t do that again,” he said quietly. Menacingly.

The guy fronted, squaring his shoulders, trying to stare down a brick wall, but Cole wasn’t one to back down—ever—and soon the guy lost his nerve and moved his gaze to his feet.

Cole, vibrating with challenge, took a moment to glare at the other guys. “Anyone else want to insult my girl?”

I know the situation was heated and it was all kinds of wrong to focus on this, but...testosterone overload was magically delicious.

“Well, well,” a male voice called, all amusement and snark. “For once the rumors are true. Cole Holland actually is an animal in human skin.”

I pivoted just in time to watch a Greek god saunter down the part in the sea. Wow. He was as tall as Cole, with hair so pale it was as pure as newly fallen snow. His eyes were dark, almost black, and he was shirtless, his skin inked as heavily as Tattoos, all black and white.

He couldn’t have been much older than us. Nineteen. Maybe twenty.

A boy I recognized kept pace at his side. Knuckle Scars, from Choco Loco. Should have known.

Greek spread his arms and grinned. “Welcome to my home.”

Cole didn’t say a word.

Awkward.

“Thanks for the invite,” I said. “Maybe next time rethink sending the four horsemen of the apocalypse as escorts. They aren’t exactly a welcoming first act.”

He looked me over and carefully blanked his expression. “I’m told you’re Ali Bell, but...” He frowned. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Pop-Tart, but you aren’t even close to what I expected.”

Pop-Tart? Because I’m packed with fruit and super tasty? Thanks. “And that is?”

“Someone...” He thought for a moment, shrugged. “Not out of a kid’s storybook.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what you call a third-degree burn.

Why did people always compare me to some fainting, animal-whispering princess too weak to save herself? Would it have killed someone to call me the nasty, village-destroying dragon? I had bite, dang it!

Cole stiffened. “Apologize.” That single word came with a wealth of fury. “Now.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “Not you. Him.”

“For speaking the truth?” Greek asked, genuinely curious.

“There’s truth, and there’s the delivery of the truth. I didn’t like your delivery.”

Now Greek was the one to roll his eyes. “Please tell me you aren’t one of those people who subscribes to the ‘say something nice or stay silent’ philosophy.”

“I’m one of those people who comes in peace...until it’s time to leave everyone in pieces.”

Greek pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d just been threatened in his own backyard. Frosty’s prison rules, which all boys seemed to know instinctively, probably had a correct way to respond—and I had a feeling I was about to see it firsthand.

“You want a fight?” Greek said. “Done. But you won’t emerge unscathed.”

Yep. That.

“I want that apology,” Cole said. “To start.”

Greek looked from Cole to me, me to Cole, different emotions pulsing from him. My spirit recognized them and informed my brain. Anger, amusement, affront, remorse, envy.

Why envy? Had he lost someone he loved? Someone he’d once defended?

Surprisingly enough, he settled on amusement. “Very well. My apologies, Miss Ali. Next time, there will be no references to princesses. Only wicked witches.”

“Appreciate it.” Now, then. I brought us back to the proper track. “You must be River. I’ve heard so little about you, and to be honest, even that is starting to seem like too much.”

He grinned. “Well, there’s a little fire in you after all. That’s good.”

A little? “Baby, you have no idea.”

The grin slowly widened. “You have questions for me, I’m sure, just as I have answers for you. But first, you’re going to have to prove you are who you say you are.”

Big shocker. “I’m sure you’re not referring to a driver’s license.”

“Correct.”

“You called me by name. You know who we are,” I pointed out, “or we wouldn’t be here.”

He shrugged. “You’re still going to have to prove it.”

“We’ve got this,” Cole whispered to me.

“I know just the thing.” River rubbed his hands together and said, “You’re going to experience a little something we call Fright Night.”