Chapter 9
Cinder made his way quickly down the stairs to intervene in the ruckus before things got further out of hand. Anger simmered just below the surface. He should have known things would head south at some point. As much as he loved Io, the poor gargoyle seemed to attract trouble like a magnet. Half way down the stairs he stopped dead in his tracks. A breeze wafted in through the open backdoors, bringing with it a scent he would never forget, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge.
Ran’imy.
Ghosts forgotten, Cinder scanned the crowd for Io’s white ears, locating them somewhere near the back of the group. Dragging him toward the kitchen, using the distraction of the dead, was Ran’imy, sans costume, making her immediately noticeable. She held in one hand a glistenin
