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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

Yesterday I had sent a bag of cookies to Trent by special messenger with a card that simply said “I know.” The cellophane bag and sandwich cookies had been just rife with an insulting mix of elf and magic propaganda that even the enlightened times after the Turn hadn’t been able to quell. Sure enough, I was awoken that morning by the phone ringing. Then ringing again when the machine clicked off. And ringing again. And again. And again.

Eight o’clock in the morning is an ungodly time for witches—I had only been asleep four hours—but Jenks couldn’t answer the phone, and waking Ivy up wasn’t a good idea. The long and short of it was that Trent invited me to his garden for tea. No freaking way. I told Jonathan I’d meet Trent in Eden Park at four at Twin Lakes Bridge, right after his boss’s nappies.

Twin Lakes Bridge was a rather grand name for the concrete footbridge, but I knew the troll that lived under it and felt I could rely on him in a pinch. The water chattering over the artificial rapids would distort any listening spell. Better yet, on football Sunday, the park would be almost deserted, giving us enough privacy to talk, yet retain enough people to deter any stupid choices Trent might be tempted to make, like outright killing me.

I forced my gaze up from the sidewalk as I passed Glenn’s unmarked FIB car parked illegally at the curb. He had probably been assigned to keep an eye on Trent. Good. That meant I wouldn’t have to truss up whatever FIB officer Edden had tailing the man so Trent and I could talk uninterrupted.

I had made a point to bring no spells with me, other than my usual pinky ring. No cumbersome bag, either. Just my little-used driver’s license and my bus pass. The reason for the lack of personal effects was twofold. Not only could I run faster if Trent tried something, but I wouldn’t give Trent the opportunity to claim I’d slipped him a charm.

The strain from my quick pace made my calves ache, and I scanned the large park, finding it as sparsely populated as I’d hoped. I had ridden past the first stop since I wanted a good look-see before getting off. Not to mention it was impossible to make a graceful entrance from a bus. Even the leather pants, matching leather jacket, and red halter top wouldn’t help.

I slowed, taking in the pond water, green with copper sulfate, and the lush grass. The trees were tipped with color, not yet hurried on by frost. Trent’s red blanket made a vivid splash upon the ground. He was alone, pretending to read. I wondered where Glenn was, thinking that unless he was in the few large trees or the skinny apartments across the street, he was likely lurking in the bathrooms.

Arms swinging, I waved across the park to Jonathan, standing sullen by the Gray Ghost Limo in the sun. Clearly unhappy, he raised his wrist and spoke into his watch. My stomach tightened as I imagined Quen watching me from the trees. I forced my pace to a sedate saunter as I went to the public restrooms, my vamp-made boots silent on the walkway.