Page 18 of Blaze of Our Lives

“As you wish,” she rasped. “But locking me up will be unwise. You will need me.”

I seriously hoped not, but she was probably correct.

“Is it possible to take anyone with me?” I asked, hoping someone might know.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure that’s gonna be up to you, Badass,” Candy Vargo said, handing me a box of toothpicks.

“Am I allowed to speak?” Pandora demanded in a shrill tone.

“Yes. Speak.”

“I’ve never heard of bringing anyone along to the Higher Power. However, if you’re such a wimpy-assed pussy that you need backup, I’d suggest whomever you want along for the ride stays physically connected to you in your dream state.”

I didn’t think she was screwing with me. Her advice was logical. Granted, it was weird, but all of this was weird. “Pandora says if I want to try to bring anyone with me, they should touch me when I’m in a dream state,” I relayed to the group.

“Fascinating,” Tim said, jotting it all down. “Did she say anything else?”

“Yes. She called me a wimpy-assed pussy.”

“Call her a cow-bitch,” Candy Vargo suggested.

“FUCK YOU, CANDY VARGO,” Pandora bellowed.

I winced at the sheer volume in my brain. “She heard you.”

Candy just laughed. My ears were still ringing. A sense of urgency consumed me. The party needed to start, but there were a few more details to take care of. Glancing down at what I wore, I shook my head. It was still in the costume from the show. That would not do.

“Cher,” I said to my agent and friend. “I need to look ready to kick ass. Could you help me out with that?”

She grinned. “I would be delighted, favorite client of mine.” She rubbed her little hands together with glee. “Are we going for formal badass or informal?”

“Informal,” I confirmed. “And make it modern badass. No side boob, and I’d like the outfit to go with combat boots.”

Daisy clapped her hands. “I like your style, Bitch Goddess Cecily.”

I grinned. “Thank you.”

Cher raised her hands above her head then wiggled her fingers. A cool rush of air danced through the room. It tickled my nose and made me sneeze. In the blink of an eye, I was now sporting all-black—comfortable cargo pants, a fitted long-sleeved t-shirt and killer combat boots.

“Love it,” I told her, doing a deep knee bend. “There’s good stretch in the material.”

“Can’t kick ass if you can’t move,” she explained.

I nodded my agreement. “Next. Is it possible to die in a dream state?”

“Excellent question,” the Grim Reaper said. “And the answer is no. You can be killed but you won’t die. Although, that means anything you kill in the dream state isn’t dead either. Keep that in mind. If you kill an enemy there, you will have to end your enemy multiple times.”

That didn’t sound good. “Am I going to have to kill shit there? Will there be things on the Higher Power’s plane that want me dead?” I asked. That would suck. I’d had a bounty on my head for a while. It had just been removed. It would be awful to have to keep looking over my shoulder while trying to get Pandora out of me.

Being Immortal was turning out to be way worse than a menopausal midlife crisis.

“Up to you,” Candy Vargo explained. “It’s your fuckin’ dream state, Badass.”

I’d keep that in mind. “Got it. Another question, how do I get back from the dream state?”

“You’re not as much of an imbecile as I’d originally thought,” Pandora said.

“Thank you.” A compliment was a compliment, even if it came from your mortal enemy who had taken up residence in your body.

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