Page 5 of Amber Gambler

“Your boyfriend’s not here.”

Tipping my head back, I spotted Pascal Suarez lounging on the ceiling. “I didn’t ask you to check.”

“Your bottom lip has been dragging since he got himself killed, Francita.”

“He’s not dead.” I fought down the memory of his battered face. “He’s just…not here.”

Anyone else would have died after what Kierce had endured, but he held on until he could go back to…

…wherever he came from originally. I hadn’t even solved the mystery of where he vanished between the times when I found him in the cemetery, reminding me of why I reached out to Harrow in the first place.

A necromancer I might be. (Mostly.) But a detective, I was not.

Matty, who couldn’t hear or see Pascal, grinned. “Are you guys talking about yourbirdfriend?”

“Birdfriend.”Pascal snickered and snorted like the brat I knew him to be. “That’s priceless.”

“I’m sure you’ll catch each other up while you’re at work.” Rolling my eyes, I held out a hand for Pascal. I focused on the cool whisper of his energy to solidify his insubstantial fingers in my steady grasp. “It’s not fair how you two gang up on me when you can’t even see or hear each other properly.”

“We spend alotof time together.” Matty slid his fingers into mine. “I don’t need help to know what he’s thinking. His brothers are trickier, but Pascal is all fast cars, hot women, and teasing Frankie mercilessly.”

“No wonder you’re such good friends.”

Allowing my eyes to drift shut, I murmured a familiar chant to open Matty’s body to possession and ease the transition for Pascal’s soul as I brought my hands together, joining them as one. As Matty swayed on his feet, a new light entered his eyes. A teasing one. An old pro at the process, Pascal acclimated quickly.

“Frankie’s got a birdfriend,” he sing-songed, slinging an arm around me. “Frankie’s got a birdfriend.”

Aiming my elbow at his gut, I was rewarded with his gasp. “Donotlet him hear you say that.”

“Aww.” He rubbed his side but didn’t let go. “Does this mean you’re not official yet?”

“No.” I let him drag me out of the men’s room, him without a care in the world. Must be nice. But that was death for you. The afterlife put the daily grind of living into perspective. “I knew Kierce all of five minutes.”

We reached the wagon, and I slid behind the wheel, pausing with my key hovering beside the ignition.

“What’s wrong?” Pascal glanced around before climbing in beside me. “Did you see something?”

“No.” The sensation of being watched prickled along my nape until it stung like ant bites. I caught myself halfway to rubbing away the feeling then tapped the fuzzy purple dice hanging from my rearview mirror and set them swaying instead. “I just remembered something.”

The quirk of his brows told me he didn’t believe me, but he let it slide. For once in his afterlife.

A hard tap on my window rewarded my paranoia as my stalker glided down to perch on my side mirror.

Exhaling softly, allowing my muscles to uncoil, I rolled down the glass. “What are you doing here?”

I was afraid to ask how Badb got out. Not that she could tell me in so many words. Harrow might be struggling with his grief, but he wouldn’t have let himself into my apartment. She must have escaped another way.

“She likes to feel the wind in her feathers.” Pascal fed her one of the hard crackers Matty kept on him to bribe her into leaving his shiny tools and sparkly car parts alone. “Ain’t that right, Badb?”

“She’s a crow.” I scratched under her beak. “She feels the wind in her feathers a thousand times a day.”

“Not with a soundtrack she doesn’t,” he baby-talked her. “Badb likes to rock.”

A loud caw confirmed she was ready to roll, comfy on her favorite motorized perch.

As I cranked up the radio, dialing in the local classic rock station, Pascal rolled down his window. The trip home was short, so I never built up any real speed. Badb was perfectly safe to close her eyes and cruise.

As we bumped into the parking lot, I spied Josie with a basket of veggies propped on her hip.

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