Page 315 of Trick or Stalk

I stop halfway through turning the page.

Slowly, I lower my book.

She's standing at the end of the couch, staring toward the window.

Her little body goes rigid.

“No.”

Another growl.

“Absolutely not.”

Her ears perk.

I close my book and set it on the couch beside me.

Snow falls steadily beyond the windows, blanketing the backyard and the woods beyond it in white.

It's been coming down for hours.

The kind of snow that makes Hollow Creek feel completely cut off from the rest of the world. Quiet. Peaceful. Beautiful.

And apparently, it’s perfect weather for a psychopath to lurk in the woods.

I narrow my eyes at the trees.

Nothing.

“Penny.”

She looks at me.

“If this is another squirrel, we're having a serious conversation about your performance.”

Her tail wags.

“That wasn't praise.”

I stand.

Penny immediately turns back toward the window.

I walk closer. I don’t see anything but snow. Trees. And then⁠—

Movement.

My pulse jumps.

A figure steps from behind one of the trees. Tall. Dressed entirely in black. A hood pulled over his head. And a weathered bone-colored mask covering his face.

My heart pounds.

For half a second, instinct takes over. That old rush of adrenaline. Fear. Anticipation.

Then warmth curls low in my stomach.

“Asshole.”