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Contents ( 114)
  1. THE HOLLOW SERIES BOOKS 1–4
  2. Contents
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Acknowledgements
  40. THE GOOD, THE BAD,
  41. AND THE UNDEAD
  42. Dedication
  43. Contents
  44. One
  45. Two
  46. Three
  47. Four
  48. Five
  49. Six
  50. Seven
  51. Eight
  52. Nine
  53. Ten
  54. Eleven
  55. Twelve
  56. Thirteen
  57. Fourteen
  58. Fifteen
  59. Sixteen
  60. Seventeen
  61. Eighteen
  62. Nineteen
  63. Twenty
  64. Twenty-One
  65. Twenty-Two
  66. Twenty-Three
  67. Twenty-Four
  68. Twenty-Five
  69. Twenty-Six
  70. Twenty-Seven
  71. Twenty-Eight
  72. Twenty-Nine
  73. Acknowledgements
  74. Dedication
  75. Contents
  76. One
  77. Two
  78. Three
  79. Four
  80. Five
  81. Six
  82. Seven
  83. Eight
  84. Nine
  85. Ten
  86. Eleven
  87. Twelve
  88. Thirteen
  89. Fourteen
  90. Fifteen
  91. Sixteen
  92. Seventeen
  93. Eighteen
  94. Nineteen
  95. Twenty
  96. Twenty-One
  97. Twenty-Two
  98. Twenty-Three
  99. Twenty-Four
  100. Twenty-Five
  101. Twenty-Six
  102. Twenty-Seven
  103. Twenty-Eight
  104. Twenty-Nine
  105. Thirty
  106. Thirty-One
  107. Thirty-Two
  108. Thirty-Three
  109. Acknowledgements
  110. A FISTFUL OF CHARMS
  111. Also by the Author
  112. About the Author
  113. Copyright
  114. About the Publisher

Force my ass, I thought. If they shot me, I’d sue their bright little badges from here to the Turn. I didn’t have anything stronger than a pain amulet. I’d been searched, and they knew it.

It was right about then that Nick realized I was coming for him. Clearly frightened, he jerked the door open. A cry went up when his engine revved, loud over the generators. There was a piercing whistle, and the leader of the unknown military faction waved his hand above his head as if in direction. Horns started to blow when three street racers stopped in traffic and Weres got out. Grim-faced, they closed in. They weren’t happy. Neither was I.

“Stop him!” came a bark of a demand, and I picked up my pace. I was going to get to Nick first, or whoever beat me to him was going to get my foot in their gut. He had hurt and betrayed me, leaving me to clean up his mess and take his fall. Twice. Not this time.

My gaze was fixed fervently on the truck as it lurched, almost stalling, but a flash of pixy dust jerked me to a stop. “Jax?” I exclaimed, shocked.

“Ms. Morgan,” the adolescent pixy said, hovering before my nose with an amulet as big as he was, his eyes bright and his wings red in excitement. “Nick wanted me to tell you he’s sorry and he loves you. He really does.”

“Jax!” I said, blinking as even the sparkles from his dust faded. My eyes went to the truck. The wheels were smoking as Nick tried to get the heavy vehicle moving. With a lurch, the wheels caught. My face went cold as I realized it was headed right for me. I watched him fight the huge wheel, arms stiff and fear in his eyes, struggling to turn it.

“Rachel, get out of the way!” Ivy screamed over the rumble of the engine.

I froze as the wheels turned, missing me, the tires taking the weight compressing dangerously. Jenks crashed into me, knocking me farther out of the way. Stifling a gasp, I hit the pavement for the third time in the last hour. The truck roared past in a frightening noise and a breeze of diesel fumes. A crack followed by a boom shook my insides, the sound rolling over my back like a wave. Jenks held my head down and a second boom followed the first.

What in hell was that? Heart pounding, I pushed Jenks off me and lifted my head. The wrecker was careening out of control, the tires blown out. Someone had shot out his tires?

I scrambled up when the wrecker with Nick’s truck swerved wildly to avoid the scattering news crews. Tires squealing and gears grinding, the brakes burned as he locked them. Momentum kept the vehicle moving—careening into the temporary railing.

“Nick!” I screamed when the wrecker crashed through it like toast. With a shocking silence, it was gone.