What a Ghoul Wants Read Online Free PDF Page A

fall to the floor, then wiggled out of my coat,
     letting it plop on top of the bag, and crawled onto the bed, finally falling face-first
     into the pillow. The most effort I exhibited after that was to curl around into a
     fetal position and exhale a relieved sigh. I’d sleep in my clothes and be happy for
     it. And that was one of my last clearly conscious thoughts, but even as it entered
     my head, I could feel Heath tugging off my boots, jeans, and sweater before covering
     me with the comforter. I also think he kissed my cheek and told me he loved me, but
     that part I honestly could have dreamed.
    I slept like the dead (no pun intended) for several hours until something roused me
     from a lovely slumber. I remember opening one eye with a slight whimper. I was still
     heavy with fatigue. What had it been that’d woken me up?
    I listened for a minute, and could hear only the rhythmic sounds of Heath’s steady
     breathing next to me. I closed my eye with a little sigh, ready to tuck back into
     la-la land, when something from the other side of our door made me snap the lid open
     again.
    I listened, and this time I could hear a sound like a woman crying from the hallway.
     At first I just listened, wondering if perhaps she’d simply had a spat with her boyfriend
     or her spouse, but I hadn’t heard any arguing, and didn’t Merrick say that he’d put
     us in an unoccupied part of the castle? Then I immediately wondered if Heath had locked
     the riffraff door behind us. Knowing him, he hadn’t; he wasn’t someone who looked
     down his nose at anybody. If some guest of the castle wanted into this section, Heath
     would hold the door for him.
    The crying just beyond our door continued, and I waited for the woman to move back
     to her room, but the sound of her pitiful weeping went on and on. Finally and with
     a grunt of irritation I pushed up off the pillow and shivered in the damp night air.
    Hugging my sides, I moved to the door and tried to feel for the peephole, as there
     was no light coming through from out in the hallway.
    It took me a second or two to understand that there was no peephole—the Welsh maybe
     aren’t as paranoid about strangers at their door as we Americans. I stood there for
     about five more seconds, wondering what to do, and after listening to the woman continue
     to sob in distress, I decided what the hell, it wouldn’t hurt to check on her. Hiding
     my nearly naked bottom half behind the door, I turned the knob and pulled.
    The door opened with a considerable squeak, and as I leaned out, I could see someone
     huddled in the hallway startle at the noise. Even though the corridor was dimly lit,
     I could make out the figure of a woman dressed in a long white nightgown and a black
     knit shawl, cowering against the wall. She got up when I leaned out to take a look,
     and she began to limp along down the hallway while trying to cover her face with her
     hand and the shawl. I stared at her for a moment, and one thing became quite clear:
     Judging by her disheveled appearance and the purple bruises I saw on her wrists and
     forearms, the poor thing had been in some sort of awful scuffle.
    “Are you all right?” I whispered. Her demeanor was so timid and frightened that I
     was afraid I’d scare her even more if I spoke at full volume.
    She simply shook her head and tried to limp away, pulling her shawl even more closely
     about her. But then she happened to glance back at me over her shoulder and through
     her tangle of hair I could see a black eye and a puffy lip. Someone had roughed her
     up pretty good.
    “Ma’am?” I said. “Do you need some help?”
    She ducked her chin again and limped with a bit more effort to put some distance between
     us.
    I hovered indecisively in the doorway for a few anxious moments. Should I go after
     her and try to help or console her? What the heck happened to her, anyway? Had she
     been attacked by someone she knew? Or was there a predator on the loose