Page 2 of Hot Ghoul Summer

“Twenty-something. A nursing student at Penn State. I—I’ll bring her to you. She’s got a body that won’t quit. I know. It’s the reason her mother left me. Caught me looking too many times.”

I flexed my hand, and my blade was suddenly in it, hot and glowing red.

I was about to violate my contract. But I’m too old not to know a sign when I see one, and that was a sign.

God, there’s going to be so much paperwork.

“So... you, you piece of scum, would give me your ex-wife’s daughter to settle the score?”

“Hey, better her head than mine. Besides, you won’t kill her. She’ll walk away when you’re done with her. Right?”

The other man didn’t say anything for a minute. I flexed my other hand, and the thug’s scroll appeared in my palm. Everyone has a scroll—even me.

Nicky Cross.

Yeah. He wasn’t one of mine. He wasn’t even handled by my union. He’s supposed to go to Local 49 of the DHR. (Demons, Hellhounds, and Reapers.)

So, so much paperwork.

I might get fired.

“She might not walk away, motherfucker. You think I’ll let her live after I’m done with her? After my boys go through her?”

Well. That was it.

Like lightning, I zoomed forward and punched through Nicky Cross’ chest, my blade snipping his soul right outta him.

I let it fall through the cracks in the planks instead of picking it up with the tender, loving care I usually show my clients. One of the boys from DHR will find him soon, wandering around lost, terrified, and eleven years too early.

Good.

“Nicky! Nicky? Oh, God.” Gary sank back on his haunches, wiping blood from his face, breathing out shaking, metallic-smelling sobs. “Oh... Good.” The panicked sobs slowed.

I went solid and visible, and he screamed.

“Nicky just had a heart attack. I’m taking over.” I let him see the knife in my hand. To him, it probably looked like a machete. Maybe a machine gun. I didn’t care enough to calm his fears, so he saw whatever he dreaded most.

“You—you want Molly?”

“No. I want you,” I snarled, lunging—and then I stopped.

I stopped and did a horrible, terrible thing that is definitely going to get me fired.

“I want you—but I want Molly here first.” I pointed in the direction of the old family beach house. “Bring her to 34 Silverlake Way by tomorrow, and I might let you live.”

For another day or two. I wanted Molly to be safe. I hadn’t had time to pull up this dude’s scroll, but I knew his type. He’ll always be in trouble, and now that he’s thought of a way to get out of it by offering someone else up as his scapegoat, his stepdaughter would always be on the menu. She’ll never be safe.

But... But maybe she could be safe with me. Maybe she’d even learn to like me a little.

Or a lot.

Maybe she could be the reason I quit this job someday, so I can have a forever with someone.

Don’t call me crazy. I’ve been around for half a millennia. I know stuff.

I knew that I hadn’t felt anything like that in centuries, that my heart zoomed back into my chest and took over just from a glimpse of her picture on a cracked phone screen.

“Wh—what are you going to do with her?”

---