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Back The Hollows Series
Chapters (154)
  1. THE HOLLOW SERIES BOOKS 1–4
  2. Contents
  3. Dead Witch Walking
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Acknowledgements
  41. The Good, The Bad and The Undead
  42. Dedication
  43. One
  44. Two
  45. Three
  46. Four
  47. Five
  48. Six
  49. Seven
  50. Eight
  51. Nine
  52. Ten
  53. Eleven
  54. Twelve
  55. Thirteen
  56. Fourteen
  57. Fifteen
  58. Sixteen
  59. Seventeen
  60. Eighteen
  61. Nineteen
  62. Twenty
  63. Twenty-One
  64. Twenty-Two
  65. Twenty-Three
  66. Twenty-Four
  67. Twenty-Five
  68. Twenty-Six
  69. Twenty-Seven
  70. Twenty-Eight
  71. Twenty-Nine
  72. Acknowledgements
  73. Every Which Way But Dead
  74. Title Page
  75. Dedication
  76. Contents
  77. One
  78. Two
  79. Three
  80. Four
  81. Five
  82. Six
  83. Seven
  84. Eight
  85. Nine
  86. Ten
  87. Eleven
  88. Twelve
  89. Thirteen
  90. Fourteen
  91. Fifteen
  92. Sixteen
  93. Seventeen
  94. Eighteen
  95. Nineteen
  96. Twenty
  97. Twenty-One
  98. Twenty-Two
  99. Twenty-Three
  100. Twenty-Four
  101. Twenty-Five
  102. Twenty-Six
  103. Twenty-Seven
  104. Twenty-Eight
  105. Twenty-Nine
  106. Thirty
  107. Thirty-One
  108. Thirty-Two
  109. Thirty-Three
  110. Acknowledgements
  111. A Fistful of Charms
  112. A FISTFUL OF CHARMS
  113. Dedication
  114. Contents
  115. One
  116. Two
  117. Three
  118. Four
  119. Five
  120. Six
  121. Seven
  122. Eight
  123. Nine
  124. Ten
  125. Eleven
  126. Twelve
  127. Thirteen
  128. Fourteen
  129. Fifteen
  130. Sixteen
  131. Seventeen
  132. Eighteen
  133. Nineteen
  134. Twenty
  135. Twenty-One
  136. Twenty-Two
  137. Twenty-Three
  138. Twenty-Four
  139. Twenty-Five
  140. Twenty-Six
  141. Twenty-Seven
  142. Twenty-Eight
  143. Twenty-Nine
  144. Thirty
  145. Thirty-One
  146. Thirty-Two
  147. Thirty-Three
  148. Thirty-Four
  149. Thirty-Five
  150. Acknowledgements
  151. Keep Reading
  152. Also by the Author
  153. About the Author
  154. About the Publisher

“They’ll put the cameras on loop for us when we leave the building,” he said, not taking my arm as Kisten or Nick might, but walking beside me with an odd closeness. The shops lining the thoroughfare were closed, but the theater had a small crowd of what were clearly locals, to judge by the amount of noisy banter. The movie showing had been out for three weeks in Cincy, but there must not be a lot to do up here.

We neared the ticket booth and my pulse quickened. “They’ll loop the cameras for a bottle of maple syrup?” I asked, voice hushed.

Jenks shrugged, glancing at the marquee. “Sure. That stuff is liquid gold.”

I dug in my bag for a twenty as I took that in. Maybe I could make more pimping maple syrup to pixies than running? We bought two tickets to the SF film, and after getting Jenks a bag of popcorn, we headed into the theater, immediately going out the emergency exit.

My eyes went to the cameras atop the building, catching the faintest glint of streetlight on pixy wings. Maybe it was a little overkill, but being placed at the theater if The Butterfly Shack’s alarms went off might be the difference between keeping my feet on the street and cooling them on a jail cot.

Together we made our way from the service entrances in back to the front, Jenks shedding clothes and handing them to me to stuff in my bag every few yards. It was terribly distracting, but I managed to avoid running into the Dumpsters and recycling bins. Upon reaching the shuttered tourist area, he was in his soft-soled boots and his skintight outfit. We had come out a few blocks from the theater, and it was creepy being on the street at night with everything closed, reminding me how far from home and out of my element I was. The Butterfly Shack was tucked into the end of a cul-de-sac, and we headed for it, feet silent on the cement.

“Watch my back,” Jenks whispered, leaving me in a shadow while he twirled the long tool in his fingers into a blur, crouching to put his eyes even with the lock.

I gave him a long glance, then turned to watch the empty foot street. No prob, Jenks, I thought. Sure, he was married, but I could look. “People,” I breathed, but he had heard and was already behind the scrawny bushes beside the door. They were butterfly bushes, if I guessed right, and scraggly. Any other business would have torn them out.