City Of Ghosts Book 2 นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Pissed at myself for pushing away the one thing in my life that I loved more than my need for retribution against Ricci. *************************** AUTHOR NOTE: Sorry for delays with updates! I promise they will be coming in more consistent. phantom is almost over. Book 2 in the Elite series will be shortly following. If you like the story please rate, comment, and review! Thank you !

Jimmy sounded tired. Natalia paused and nodded. "Maybe we are chasing ghosts." Jimmy stopped on the top step and flashed the torch light on the spot. "Well we are in this deep, I guess we should find out what happened to them." Natalia kneeled, touching the green shag with her hand. "Do you have the journal?" Jimmy nodded as he removed the journal from the backpack. "I figure we are almost through the story. There are only a few entries left."

"Don't dare touch me again or I'll kill you again." The male chuckles and rubs his hair. "I'm just like you... A ghost. So how can you possibly kill me? I came back just the same way you came back cause I can't let you hurt her even though I wish I can cause she's a silly female." Jalen rolls her eyes at him and relaxes but suddenly shudders when his other words dawned on her and all the hairs on her body started rising and goosebumps prickled at her skin. "Y..yo..u..both are ghosts?"

She thought of the fire escape, the ripped window, the taste of adrenaline and need that never seemed to leave her throat. “Always,” she said. And this time, she almost believed it. * When morning came, the city’s streets were orange with chemical sunrise and panicked with rumor. The market had already patched its wounds. Word spread: a pair of ghosts had knifed their way through two squads, left only mess and a floating corpse as testimony. In the hush of the utility corridor, Carolina sipped stolen tea and let Wyn’s science experiment fizz on her tongue, hoping the fever would break soon. Xander dozed with his head in her lap, twitching now and then, chasing nightmares darker than anything

I wouldn’t know what to tell her if she did. Fabiano’s words still hum behind my eyes. Mikhail’s back. Like a curse whispered in a cathedral. Like a ghost I’d buried under enough concrete and blood to keep him dead for a lifetime. The truth is, ghosts don’t die. They wait. The city looks different tonight. The skyline cuts through the clouds like jagged glass. Lights blink and vanish behind the fog rolling in from the Hudson. Every sound feels amplified, the faint buzz of traffic from the bridge, a distant horn, the shuffle of my boots grinding against the concrete path.

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

My breath falters once. I don’t know the name. That should be enough. I steady my breathing and listen. Nothing outside but wind through the trees. Still, I step back. Ghosts don’t keep personal items. They don’t have pasts that can be written down. I open the cover just enough to see the first page. My name is there. Written in a hand I don’t recognize. Footsteps approach. I snap the book shut as the door handle turns.

Lila worriedly wrung her hands as she paced the room. Her baby had been taken from her, Cora had disappeared along with the ancient witch she’d been tending to, and Bess was dead. Without the baby to hide behind or either woman to watch over her, she was completely at the mercy of the vampires.

Watch your back. I looked over the edge. Rome. My city. Built on blood. Held together by it. Rule 4: Ghosts wear better suits. But they’re still ghosts. And ghosts don’t get happy endings. They get second chances. I’m going to mine

The city moved through its evening outside the walls and Ghost was dead on a police report in a precinct filing cabinet and somewhere in the east wing of a locked estate, Chris Lee — whatever that was, whoever that turned out to be — turned a page. Still here. Just without a name for it yet.