Ravenfall sits at a weak spot in the veil to the Otherworld, where spirits dwell. The veil grows thinner as the end of the month approaches, letting spirits and other creatures cross over into the human world, but I wouldn’t have expected to see wisps for another week.

I’ll have to ask Gran about it.

My hunt for Max takes much longer than I’d hoped. The house tries to help, the walls groaning in different spots to lead me to him. But Max enjoys aggravating the house, and by the time I get to where it’s sent me, he’s already gone.

Eventually I head to the kitchen for a raw steak. The meat is cold and slimy against my fingers, but I don’t mind it.

“I’m taking your food outside, Max,” I call.

An elderly couple stands just inside the doorway, blinking at me in alarm and clutching their suitcases.

“Don’t worry,” I reassure them. “Max only eats dead things.”

The man draws up, looking horrified, and I realize too late that didn’t actually sound as reassuring as it did in my head. Embarrassed, I skitter past them, trying not to overthink it. Seeing me walking down the hall with a bloody steak in my hand probably isn’t the strangest thing they’ve seen in Wick, and I long ago stopped trying to make friends with the guests. Or anyone, for that matter.

Who needs friends when I have the house and Max?

“If you don’t come get it, I’m going to eat it myself!” I step outside onto the porch.

Juices trickle down my hand. I hold the steak off to the side to keep it from getting on my clothes. My worn jeans are one stain away from mysteriously disappearing after a trip to the laundry, courtesy of Nora.

A black shape trots my way from the woods surrounding the house. Max is trying to make me think he’s been outside the whole time, but I know better.

The rumble of an engine fills the air as a cab comes up the driveway, momentarily distracting me from Max. It pulls in to the roundabout and stops at the base of the steps. The driver smiles and waves, but I’m more interested in the unfamiliar boy in the back seat. Is this Nora’s mysterious guest?

He climbs out, a small duffel bag in his hand.

The first thing I notice are his eyes. They’re an impossibly bright gray.

The second thing I notice is the blood.

Chapter 2: Colin

The first thing I notice is the house.

It’s huge. Mostly Gothic style, all pointed arches and stained-glass windows draped in ivy, but the rest is a random mix of Victorian turrets, craftsman columns, and medieval stonework—all the styles I recognize from flipping through housing magazines late at night when my family has already gone to bed.