Page 17 of Hot Ghoul Summer

“God!” I jump back as two paws and three little pink tongues slam into the window.

“Musketeer! Down, boys! Aramis, Athos, Porthos! Sit!” Sera tries to get the wriggling thing under control, but instead, the monster tumbles into my room, through the glass.

I leap onto the bed, babble-shrieking and cursing as the furry demon romps around my room, three heads barking—and adorable stubby butt wriggling hard.

It’s a corgi. A mutant corgi.

“Toby’s going to be furious. Musketeer caught a bunch of seagulls last year, and since he’s a Reaper’s pet and he’s half-hellhound, the seagulls didn’t die. They turned into ghosts, and oh, man. I’ve never had to catch a ghost seagull before, but Toby says it’s hard work.” Sera poofs into my room like the walls are made of mist and pulls a leash out of her pocket. “Good boys. Come here.” She clucks her tongue.

My mind was temporarily distracted by the horrific creature before me—but now the horrific creature kinda looks... cute. I stare for way too long, and then I look back at Sera.

Sera’s face isn’t a bunch of bones anymore. It’s... gorgeous. She’s gorgeous, with long, dark hair and a pale, smooth face with full lips and perfect eyebrows. Cherubic. Angelic.

“Are you an angel?” I feel stupid for asking, but it’s better than just staring the whole night.

“I’m a morrigan.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Well, technically, the first morrigan was a Celtic goddess of battle, life, and death, but I’m just a mortal descendant. I’m basically a retriever of souls lost in battle.”

“So, like... soldiers?”

Sera shakes her head. “There are so many battles. Cancer. Depression. War. Drugs. I retrieve them all.”

“Oh, sheesh. I’m a nurse. I get that. I’m—I guess we’re kind of the frontline folks, and you have to clean up if we lose.”

Sera shrugs. “Toby’s a Reaper. He’s not restricted to those who lose a battle, but he’s doing the same noble work I am. No soul deserves to be lost, left wandering alone.”

Her voice is so sincere that it’s tempting to nod along.

In fact...

Maybe nodding along is the best move. Playing along. How many times have I had to humor patients who have come in high, with dementia, or delusional?

“Wow. You’re right. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Sera sighs in relief. “It’s fine! Let me tell you, this isn’t normal Reaper behavior. I’ve never seen Toby act like this. You must mean a lot to him.”

“Right. So, where is he?”

Sera twists her fingers. Mutant-pup licks the bottom of my shoe.

“He’s uh—checking on something.”

“Oh. Cool. And you’re here because...?”

Sera frowns. “I think I’m not supposed to say too much. Just that you might still be in danger.”

I’m here with a murderer, a ghost-lady, and a hellhound mutt? Sounds like danger to me.

“I have to go back out and patrol. Can I leave the dog with you, or do you want me to take him?”

Hostage swap? Sign me up. “Sure, I’ll take him. He doesn’t like, breathe fire or open gateways to the underworld, does he?”

“No... But don’t let him go near any birds or mice. Or crabs. Or anything small and living, okay?” Sera smoothly glides back outside my window with a wave, muttering something that sounds like “Ghost squirrels all over the yard. Oh, God, the moths and lightning bugs last night... Needs a muzzle—three, actually.”

And then she’s gone.

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