George glanced again at the dark shape that hovered just behind Thunder. His hand tightened on the rake, the cold metal biting into his palm as he stood his ground. The figure hadn’t moved—just stayed low, barely visible in the shadows.
“What in the world are you?” George muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. His grip on the rake loosened slightly as he took a small step forward. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something strange was happening, but he needed to know what—or who—had followed Thunder home.