Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

“The islands are less creepy than this stretch of road,” Quill mutters, moving closer to me. “I keep expecting some ghost girl to show up.”

“You’re a werewolf, Quill.” Beth rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you can take on a ghost.”

“Are you kidding me?” Quill huddles closer to me. “I’m terrified of ghosts. The piece of land I lived on with my dad connected to this road with open fields on both sides. Do you know the number of accidents that happen yearly simply because of ghosts?”

“Now, why would I know that?” I glance at him.

“A lot!” Quill refuses to budge from his point.

“Ghosts don’t exist, Quill,” Kathleen pipes up.

“Yeah?” Quill glares at her. “Says who? ‘Till a couple of months ago, werewolves and vampires didn’t exist either. Now look at us.”

“I don’t know about ghosts,” Isabel pipes up, looking at Beth, “but my home used to be haunted. My foster parents used to put this strange liquid on the walls of the house to keep whatever was haunting us at bay.”