Page 56 of Grave Curse

I braced.

Here it comes.

Slowly, with her gaze never leaving mine, she worked her way through the debris until she was only an arm’s length away. Then she raised her bat as if it were a rapier.

“En garde.”

I stared. “What?”

A devil began to dance in her eyes as she jutted a chin meaningfully toward my hand.

I looked down.

Holy shit. I still had the giant dildo in my hand.

A low moaning sound escaped her, and at first I thought she might be crying. I looked up from the dildo—seriously, why was it so big?—only to find her shoulders shaking with laughter.With nothing left to do, I held up the dildo and crossed it with her bat, striking a fencer’s pose.

“This isn’t going to be a fair fight, Snap. Yours is bigger than mine.”

“I’d bet real money you’ve never said that phrase before.”

“You’d be right, baby girl.”

She grinned and gently bonked her bat against my, er, weapon. “I’d also bet that you’ve never been more stylish than you are right now.”

“What do you mean?”

With waves of laughter rolling out of her once again, she reached out and aimed a mirror—now leaning drunkenly off a rack—my way.

The red feather boa hung in a glorious splash of color around my neck.

I burst out laughing, dissolving all the tension-filled shit that had built up inside throughout the day, and suddenly all that mattered was that we were here now. Against all odds, Ginger and I stood here, together, not at each other’s throats, but in harmony.

Maybe miracles did exist.

“Damn, I make this look good.” Still laughing, I shot her a quick grin. “Red is definitely my color.”

“I have to agree. Not to mention you seem highly attached to Mr. Happy.”

“Mr. Happy?”

“That’s what Roxie and I call all the adult toys shaped like a penis. Mainly because they’re forever hard, they never disappoint, and they always leave a girl with a smile on her face. See? Happy.”

“Huh.” I gave the elephant-sized dildo a wry glance before I dropped it to the floor, then dragged the feather boa fromaround my neck. “Tell me, Snap. Have you ever tried any of your Mr. Happy inventory?”

“Well,” she drawled, moving to lean the bat against the broken glass counter. “I could claim I feel a dedicated obligation to quality control when it comes to protecting my customers, but let’s face it—with you chasing off all the men who cross my path, my battery-powered Mr. Happy is pretty much my only friend with benefits.”

I looped the feather boa around her and reeled her in. “Consider me your new and improved Mr. Happy, and I’m the only one you’re ever going to need. Although,” I added fairly, “I’m good with a battery-powered Mr. Happy making a cameo appearance every now and again.”

“I think you got hit too hard in the head, pal. What makes you think you’re ever going to be in a position of showing me your Mr. Happy ever again now that you just trashed my damn store?”

“That wasn’t me,” I defended, pleased that she didn’t resist when I pulled her even closer, until only an inch or two separated us. “I came here bearing gifts and I was attacked. I could’ve died. Massive elephant dildos hit me on the head.”

“Aw, poor baby.” Chuckling, she reached up and brushed a butterfly-light caress over the cheek that was throbbing the worst. “What sort of gifts did you come here bearing?”

“A little blast from the past I thought you might like for your collection of weaponry. Once we nail Hades, maybe you can pair it up with his scalp.”

“What are you talking about?”

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