Page 33 of The Accidental Ghost

“You dressed for fucking Halloween, weirdo.” Nina plopped down in the chair next to her.

Wanda chuckled as she set battery-operated candles around the table, tucking the long sleeves of her kimono out of the way. “Leave her alone, Nina. Madam Marty looks adorable, and so do I. We dressed the part, party pooper. Lighten the frack up, grumpy pants.”

Ralph fought a burst of laughter, wishing she had a kimono and a turban, too, because it was fun and it took her mind off the serious turn her life had taken.

She was about to try to contact the afterlife and invite her potential new friends to her ethereal party via a séance, of all things. It didn’t get much whackier than that.

“You do know we don’t need candles, right, Wanda?” Shamus asked as he sat at the head of the table, with Ralph and Darnell on either side of him.

She spread her arms, the sleeves of her jade-green and dark blue kimono hanging gracefully to the floor. “But look how pretty it makes the room? It’s glowing.” She grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth. “Ambiance is everything.”

Nina made a face. “Sit the fuck down, Wanda. Not everything needs to be decorated to set the mood.”

“Says you, the owner of Elvis on velvet,” Wanda dismissed with narrowed eyes. “What would you know about setting a mood unless it involves horror and violence?”

Nina clucked her tongue, making a face at them. “Oh, yeah. Speaking of fucking Elvis on velvet—which you and your weirdo friend pawned off as a donation to a thrift store, after bullshitting me with your story about how you couldn’t remember what the fuck happened to it, when I let you two Beckys redecorate. Bunch of liars.”

Wanda cupped Nina’s chin and planted a loud kiss on her lean cheek. “C’mon. You love your new kitchen and you know it. It has all the fanciest gadgets, and it’s shiny and sleek, just like you.”

Nina scowled, swatting at her hand, even if she was smiling. “Get the fuck off me, Joanna Gaines. I love my new kitchen like I love all those damn throw pillows on my couch, where I can’t even sit the fuck down without being smothered to death.”

Wanda planted a saucy hand on her hip. “We did that on purpose, but we forgot you can’t die.”

Nina began to laugh. “Funny bitch is funny.” She pointed to the chair. “Sit down and let’s get on with this. I gotta read Charlie a book before bed. Hurry this shit along, Ghost Talker.”

“As you wish, Dark Lord,” he said with a wink, then turned to Ralph, his green eyes hopeful. “You ready?”

Her stomach fluttered. Under the glow of the multiple candles, he was even dreamier, and she had to fight not to longingly sigh, but she nodded anyway. “I am. And stop worrying. I believe in you.”

Nina made a face. “You probably believe in Santa Claus.”

“In your line of work, do you really think that’s not a possibility?” Ralph asked with a sweetly innocent tone.

Nina tipped an imaginary hat at her. “Touché. Now get this show on the damn road.”

As everyone settled in, the room, color-drenched in a deep teal green, a room she’d admired for the technique used by painting everything top to bottom in a monochromatic style, suddenly felt very ominous.

“Before we start, a quick reminder to everyone, not all ghosts are like Ralph. They’re not always as clear or concise as she is. Some of them are fearful, though I’ve never been able to find out what exactly they’re afraid of. So their messages are, on occasion, choppy and jumbled. A puzzle I usually have to put together without all the pieces.”

“Demons, maybe. Maybe they’re afraid of demons,” Darnell suggested. “The bottom feeders like to pick on the undecided and the iffy spirits. I bet some of those ghosts are afraid to talk ’cause they tryin’ to do the right thing and help to make up for their poor life choices, but a demon’s houndin’ them to keep them from doin’ it.”

“Because?” Ralph asked.

Darnell tapped his finger on the table. “Because the more souls in Hell, the stronger it is, the easier it’ll be to someday take over the world. They’re recruitin’ ’em. They remind them they weren’t always good people. The iffy are afraid of the blowback. If they do the wrong thing just once, it’s enough of an excuse for a demon to drag ’em to hell. That’s probably why they try and give ya hints without sayin’ too much. ‘Cause they wanna make things right as a last-ditch effort to save their butts.”

Ralph shivered. “So essentially, they’re stuck? Damned if they do, damned if they don’t?”

Darnell nodded, his deep brown eyes gleaming in the flicker of the candlelight. “They’re stuck in their own minds. Some of ’em would rather live out eternity without making a decision and stay on the plane where they landed, ’cause if they go into the light and the other side of it isn’t so good, they can’t go back. It’s a roll of the dice they don’t wanna make.”

Ralph rubbed her forehead, pinching it with two fingers. “So maybe the guy who grabbed me was trying to steal my soul for this demon army? If what he said really was referring to the night I was killed, maybe it was the guy who killed me.”

Shamus clearly wasn’t one-hundred percent convinced. “Yes, he could have tried to catch you and bring you to Hell, but what you did with Gloria tells a different story, Ralph. You could bet your lunch someone would show up and demand you be released, because you’re a valuable commodity to the good side. Your stay in Hell wouldn’t last long. You were able to capture Gloria’s spirit before it left this plane. For a demon to take a risk like kidnapping a ghost as rare as you is pretty damn bold, not to mention, a suicide mission if they got caught.”

“That’s also true,” Darnell agreed. “But he wouldn’t be the first to go rogue and sho’ won’t be the last.”

“I had no idea you knew so much shit about ghosts, buddy,” Nina said with clear admiration.

He shrugged, his big shoulders lifting beneath his sports jersey. “Well, I’ma demon. I don’t like it, but I hear stuff I don’t always wanna hear.”

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