Page 14 of Memento Mori

I laughed. “You do realize that those are a couple of the things that most people who experience the paranormal activity in the bar report, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Doesn’t mean it’s real.” She flashed me a grin that made me want to kiss it off her face.

Whoa, Dev. Slow your roll. You just met her, and you don’t even know anything about her love-life situation yet.

We rounded the corner, and I saw some of the crew at the tiny metal tables and chairs in the minuscule garden courtyard to the side of the building. Lafitte’s was pretty small all around, but they somehow packed a ton of people in there each night, and it never felt overwhelming. I figured it must be the magic of the place.

“There’s some of the gang now.” I pointed, and Hanlen followed my finger to the group of four at the table.

“I’m strangely nervous,” Hanlen said with a small laugh.

“You shouldn’t be.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “They’re all great people and they will be basically living in your house for a couple of days.

“All right, let’s go meet the uninvited houseguests.”

I laughed and we made our way through the tiny swinging gate and to the table. Everybody stood with smiles.

“Okay,” I started. “Guys, this is Hanlen Arbor, our gracious host for the next several days.” Hanlen gave a shy little wave and then stuck her hands into her pockets. I smiled down at her.

“This motley crew from left to right is Schuyler Liu, our amazing forensics expert.” The petite, dark-haired beauty waved and ran a hand through her raven-wing hair, her full finger ring getting caught in the locks. She had her dark eyes done up with both black and white eyeliner tonight.

“You can call me Sky,” she said.

I moved on. “Paxton Chase, who is actually an excommunicated priest—a story I’ll let him tell you later if you both want. We call him Padre. He handles all of our suspected dark activity.” The blond reached out and offered Hanlen a hand.

“Larken Maynard, my super talented co-host, who you will hear called Birdie by just about everybody—except for me. I usually call her Lark.” The redhead saluted with two fingers, a newly hair-dressed curl dropping over her forehead.

“And you’ve met R2, our Jack-of-all-trades.” Remy sketched a bow again, and Hanlen shook her head with a laugh.

Everybody moved over and made room for us, pulling up a missing chair. Hanlen and I sat. “Where are Van, Halen, and Harper?” I asked.

Lark looked at the building. “Inside, getting drinks. They just got here.” She raised her glass of wine and took a sip.

“Wait,” Hanlen said. “Van and Halen? Are those nicknames?”

I chuckled. “Nope. Those are their given names. Van and Halen Arnot. Brother and sister. Their parents were huge fans. The team calls them the super twins. Van’s a ridiculous electrical engineer and builds a lot of our tools, and Lennie is a computer engineer who creates the kickass apps to go with them.”

“Wow,” Hanlen said, a bit of awe in her tone. “I feel like I’m saying that word a lot.” She laughed. “You guys really do have it all on this team.”

“There are even more that I use from time to time for special things, but this is our core crew.”

Sky reached out and touched Hanlen briefly on the arm. “But we don’t all believe in this malarkey. I find great pleasure in debunking these stories, if you want the truth. But it’s an amazing show and a great team. Harper agrees with me. She’s a licensed psychologist. Every time we get a supposed possession case, we just look at each other and roll our eyes. But she’s amazing at calming our worried and sometimes traumatized clients.”

“Hey, don’t dismiss it all offhand. I have intimate knowledge of demonic activity and dark hauntings,” Padre said and raised a brow at Schuyler.

“So you say,” she said with a quirk of her lips just as two women—one brunette and one blonde—and a tall, tawny-haired man walked towards us from inside.

“Hey, guys,” I said, standing to give Lennie and Harper hugs and fist-bumping Van. “So, the gang’s all here. Hanlen, this is Van, Halen, and Harper.” They all exchanged hellos and handshakes. “Now, do you want something to drink?”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Can you get me a Zombie Killer?”

I raised a brow. “No whiskey tonight?”

“A girl can be impetuous. Cider sounds good.”

“Done.” I squeezed her shoulder before walking into the establishment and up to the bar. I looked around at the patrons, seeing a few that I knew. The most well-known New Orleans Voodoo Mambo sat in a corner with a man. One of my previous clients sat on the other side of the place, raising a beer in my direction. I waved. Just as I was about to take my turn with the bartender, another familiar face appeared from the restroom area. He walked towards me, his surfer-boy good looks disarming, especially paired with the wire-rimmed glasses he favored. Burke was my newest member. The team hadn’t even met him yet. I hoped they would all get along.

“Hey, man. So glad you could come,” I said and clasped palms, giving him a bro-hug. “Are you ready to meet the client and the crew?”

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