Page 23 of Cheater Slicks

“She’s not nude.” I pointed to the moldering gauze at her feet. “She just needs new robes.”

“That doesn’t explain why she’s anatomically correct.” Pedro shielded his eyes. “Where is Pascal?”

Poor Pedro looked ready to go stand in a darkened corner to hide from theartwithin the mausoleum, but he must have realized there was nowhere to rest his forehead except on angel junk, most of it in bas-relief.

Even Kierce couldn’t resist a smile at Pedro’s horror, and I nudged him with my elbow. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He rested his hand on my shoulder then slid it until he cupped my nape. “I’m sorry I?—”

“Booya,” Pascal crowed as he raced another spirit to tag the wall above our heads. “I win.”

The woman, because of course it was a woman around his age, chortled at his glee.

“You made it by the skin of your teeth.” I quirked my lips. “Made a new friend too, I see.”

“Oh. Frankie. Hey.” The woman scooped her wild curls away from her face. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“Anita.” I smiled up at her drifting form. “Good to see you.”

As best as I could recall, she died back in the thirties from lead poisoning in her home, but it wasn’t like I was going to ask to check if I was recalling the grisly details correctly.

“What brings you to the cemetery?” She leaned cozily into Pascal. “Anything I can help with?”

“I’m here to pick him up, I’m afraid.” I lifted my brows, waiting on him to chime in. “Right, Pascal?”

“Francita,” he pleaded, staring down at Anita. “Can I get a pass? Just for today? Please?”

“I’m afraid not,manito.” Pedro shook his head. “I’m too tired to pull double duty again so soon.”

Guilt tumbled through me when the exhaustion in his voice, his expression, registered with me.

The effect was instantaneous on Pascal, who cut out the whiny-little-brother act fast. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anita folded her arms across her chest, boosting her cleavage. “Are you serious?”

“I’ll be back tonight,” he promised, eyes full of desperation. And boobs. “Wait for me?”

“All I got is time, right?” She flounced into a vault. “Later, Pascal.”

“Later,” Pedro reassured his little brother.

No further prompting was required to get Pascal to fall in line as Pedro lay on the floor.

Hand to Matty’s forehead, I released Pedro, who vanished through the marble wall seconds later.

Twining my fingers through Pascal’s chilly blue ones, I murmured a soft hymn as I guided him down into Matty’s body, his brief solidity confirming it had only been the lost souls in the parade I couldn’t touch.

“That’s a neat trick,” a man said from behind me. “You need volunteers, you ask for Bosco.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I grinned at him over my shoulder then pulled Pascal onto his feet. “You good?”

“Momma always said no man has yet to die from blue balls,” he lamented. “God rest her soul.”

“Blue…?” A furrow gathering across his brow, Kierce struggled to read between the lines. “Balls?”

“She had three sons, threeteenagesons at one point, and she wanted to make sure we grew up knowing how to treat girls right. No means no. Even if it felt like we would die if we got ourselves all worked up, and then our date changed her mind later, Momma assured us we wouldn’t die from it.” He rolled a shoulder. “Then she followed it up by saying she was too young to be a grandmother and made us go to the store and buy our own condoms while she watched from the counter with Ms. Nelly, who was our former bible school teacher.”

“That’s positively evil,” I spluttered, unable to hold in my laugh.

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