Author: Robyn Peterman Narrated Byjessica Almasy
Date: 2021-07-27 00:00:00+00:00
Description: My midlife crisis. My rules. And if it doesn't put me six feet under, I plan to live it up in style-possibly for the rest of eternity ¿ After a Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader moment, I discovered I do indeed have a father. He comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, but I've decided to keep him. Not only do I have a father, I have a kickass new sister, a ghostly family, and super powers to boot. If you add to the mix that I'm dating the Grim Reaper, it's a freakin' party. The only thing standing in the way of my happiness is the Angel of Mercy, though Angel of Misery is more appropriate. She's respo
Publisher: Blackstone Audio, Inc.
Rights: Copyright 2021 Robyn Peterman. All rights reserved.

My Midlife Crisis, My Rules

Good to the Last Death Series Book Four

Robyn Peterman

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Copyright © 2021 by Robyn Peterman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

Cover design by Cookies Inc.

Edited by Kelli Collins

Contents

Acknowledgments

More In The Good To The Last Death Series

Book Description

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

More In The Good To The Last Death Series

Robyn’s Book List

Note From The Author

About Robyn Peterman

Praise for Robyn Peterman

“Daisy’s life has been turned upside down, and we get to watch the aftermath. Prepare to root for a new heroine. You’ll fall in love with this hilarious hoyden and all of the hot water she dives into. Head first! Masterful and heartwarming, don’t let this one get away!”

—NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones

“Brilliant and so relatable! I laughed, I cried, I swooned, and I sighed. Heavily. Robyn Peterman has her finger on the pulse of midlife madness, and I can’t get enough.”

— USA Today Bestselling Author, Renee George

“I’d read the phone book if Robyn Peterman wrote it! It’s A Wonderful Midlife Crisis is a home run of hilarious, heartwarming paranormal fun. Midlife’s a journey. Enjoy the ride. Crisis included… Read it!”

— Mandy M. Roth, NY Times & USA TODAY Bestselling Author

“Hilarious, heartbreaking, magical and addictive! No one can turn a midlife crisis upside down quite like Robyn Peterman. A stay-up-all-night novel that will have you begging for more.”

— Michelle M. Pillow, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Acknowledgments

This series has been in my head for two years. It took a call and a nudge from Shannon Mayer to make me pull the file out and finish book one. Now you’re getting book four! Each word was a joy to write and I owe Shannon for yanking me into the Paranormal Women’s Fiction group. Playing in a sandbox with strong talented women who have each other’s backs is a rare and special experience.

As always, while writing is a solitary experience getting a book into the world is a group project.

The PWF 13 Gals — Thank you for a wild ride. You rock.

Renee — Thank you for all your support, your friendship, your formatting expertise and for being the best Cookie ever. You saved my butt on this one. Forever in your debt. TMB. I promise I will get our phrase into the next book. LOL

Wanda — Thank you for knowing what I mean even when I don’t. LOL You are the best and this writing business wouldn’t be any fun without you.

Kelli — Thank you for saving me from scary grammar mistakes. You rock. And thank you for letting me be late… again. LOL

Nancy, Susan, Heather and Wanda — Thank you for being kickass betas. You are all wonderful.

Mom — Thank you for listening to me hash out the plot and for giving me brilliant ideas. You really need to write a book!

Mandy — You rock hard! So happy I can call you my friend.

Steve, Henry and Audrey — Thank you. The three of you are my world. Without you, none of this would make sense. I love you.

Dedication

This one is for the gals over 40. We ROCK! LOL

More In The Good To The Last Death Series

ORDER BOOK FIVE NOW!!

Midlife is definitely a journey. The road has massive potholes.

And the crisis… it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

Being forty is supposed to be freaking fabulous not fatal.

Taking on a daunting new job minus the description isn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn out to be the stupidest… or deadliest.

Why can’t things stay the way they were? I love my old job. Supergluing ghosts back together and solving their issues is its own reward. Not to mention, I’m seriously good at it.

Adding to my problems, there are four new angels in town who are riding my butt and judging every move I make. Literally.

Luckily, my nutty friends have my back and the Grim Reaper has my heart. What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing is impossible. I am living proof. Let’s just hope I live to prove it.

Book Description

My Midlife Crisis, My Rules

My midlife crisis. My rules. And if it doesn’t put me six feet under, I plan to live it up in style—possibly for the rest of eternity…

After a Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader moment, I discovered I do indeed have a father. He comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, but I’ve decided to keep him. Not only do I have a father, I have a kickass new sister, a ghostly family, and super powers to boot. If you add to the mix that I’m dating the Grim Reaper, it’s a freakin’ party.

The only thing standing in the way of my happiness is the Angel of Mercy, though Angel of Misery is more appropriate. She’s responsible for almost everyone I have loved, and who has loved me being taken away. With the help of family and friends, I will track her down and show her exactly what a perimenopausal hot flash looks like in action.

Job — Death Counselor — Supergluing ghosts back together and solving their issues is rewarding. For real.

Mission — Bring the seriously evil Angel of Mercy to justice without dying or getting anyone else killed in the process.

Team — A bunch of certifiable Immortals, including one who re-homes vibrators. Yes, you read that correctly.

How to do this? — Wing it. Wine, my Demon boyfriend, a houseful of deceased squatters, and good friends by my side will help.

Midlife’s a journey. I will enjoy the ride. The crisis is happening whether I’m ready or not.

Chapter One

The anticipation in the room was visceral—almost physical. Something invisible pressed against me and my breath came in jerky spurts. None of us—not Gideon, Charlie, Tim, Heather, Missy or I—had any clue what would occur in the next few minutes.

Missy’s hands were warm in mine. She smiled at me, and I smiled back.

The situation was bizarre. The fact my beautiful human friend, Missy, believed me and had absorbed that Immortality was a reality without losing her shit was mind-boggling. It had taken me a few months to realize I wasn’t insane.

Missy had just found out that the old wives’ tale she’d never believed about her family being safe harbors for souls in peril was not a wives’ tale. She barely batted an eye. My dearest friend had unknowingly harbored my mother’s soul inside her for over thirty years.

“We’ve always been connected, Daisy,” Missy said.

“Always,” I agreed.

“And we always will be.” Missy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Just call to her, Daisy. She’ll come.”

A light jasmine-scented breeze blew through my friend’s colorful living room and an ethereal lavender glow surrounded her. Breathing in the scent, I closed my eyes and connected with my best friend since childhood in a way I never had before.

“Alana,” I called out tentatively. “Come to me. It’s safe now.”

I waited.

Nothing happened.

I could feel the tension of the others.

Missy squeezed my hands. “Don’t be scared. Did you call her Alana when you were a child?”

“No,” I said with a little laugh, my eyes still closed.

“Call her what she will recognize,” she suggested.

“You think that will work?” I asked.

“I know it will,” Missy replied. “I can feel it.”

I’d always known Missy was special. It wasn’t until this moment that I understood the meaning of the word.

“Mom? Mama?” I tried again. “It’s me, Daisy—your daughter. I’m here to lead you into the light. You’ll be safe with me. I love you so very much and… I want to save you like you saved me. Please come to me. It’s safe to leave Missy now.”

The wind picked up and my eyes shot open. Missy’s eyes rolled back in her head and a beautiful golden soul orb appeared on her shoulder. I quickly wrapped my arms around Missy so she wouldn’t fall to the floor, then I gently kissed the soul on her shoulder.

It wiggled and glowed. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Did we do it?” Missy asked, holding on to me for balance as she came back from wherever she’d just gone.

“We did it,” I said softly, carefully taking my mother’s soul into my hands and leading Missy to the couch.

“Will she stay in that form?” Missy asked, marveling at the orb.

“No,” my father said, approaching me with tears streaming down his handsome face. “Alana, take another form. Come and say hello to your family.”

The Archangel waved his hand and the room filled with an enchantment so strong, I found it difficult to breathe. Shimmering gold flecks rained down from above, creating a sparkling backdrop to the magic that was happening before my eyes.

My father put his arm around me, and we watched in awe as the golden orb morphed into the woman I’d been missing my whole life. Her smile undid me, and my father continued to cry.

“I am so sorry, Alana,” he whispered hoarsely. “So sorry.”

She floated over and circled us a few times. I worried she didn’t recognize me. I’d been five when she’d died, and now I was forty.

“I’m Daisy,” I told her as she hovered in front of me and studied my face.

“I know,” she replied. “I’m your mother.”

I giggled. “I know.”

“You’re stunning,” she whispered.

“So are you,” I said.

She tilted her head to the side and laughed. The sound hit me in the gut and went straight to my heart.

“Silly girl,” she said, touching my nose, then looking at the man she’d loved more than any other. “Michael.”

“Alana,” he replied.

My mother’s attention was now completely focused on him. The love between them was undeniable. I was heartbroken that he wouldn’t be able to feel her touch like I could. Only a Death Counselor could experience the touch of a ghost. Archangels didn’t have that gift.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she said. “I did what I had to do.”

He nodded and reached for her. His hand went through her, but he kept it extended. “I would have done the same in a heartbeat.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“Mom,” I said, hating to interrupt them, but worried that Clarissa might show up unexpectedly. I was desperate to spend time with her and get to know her, but risking her afterlife for my needs was not going to happen. “Are you ready to go into the light?”

“No, Daisy. I’m not,” she said.

Her answer terrified me and made me want to sob with joy.

“Alana,” Michael said, clearly as torn as I was. “It’s not safe for you here.”

Again, she tilted her head and smiled. “It’s never been safe,” she replied. “And that has never frightened me. What frightens me is that Daisy isn’t safe. Until the time she can live without looking over her shoulder like we always had to do, my place is with my family. Period.”

I grinned. My mom had lady balls—like me and like Gram.

And that’s when my happy story went horribly wrong.

“There you are, Daisy girl,” Gram shouted with glee as she flew through the wall of Missy’s house with Steve in tow. “I’ve been lookin’ all over tarnation for you people. Got worried when I went downstairs and no one was home.”

I glanced over at the ghost of my dead husband in alarm. Steve shrugged helplessly. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I came along for the ride to make sure she could find her way back home.”

I nodded in the direction of my mother. Steve’s ghostly eyes went huge. He got the picture, and he got it fast. Gram had been dangerously brainwashed by Clarissa that my mom had committed suicide and went into the darkness.

“Gram,” I said quickly. My world was about to spin off its axis. I had no clue what seeing my mother would do to Gram, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good. “I need you to go home.”

“Oh my God,” Missy said in shock. “I can see Gram and Steve.”

“You can?” Gram squealed with delight. “That’s just fandamntastic, Missy! Daisy, I’m pretty dang sure we had an earthquake or some prehistoric moles out in the yard. We got holes you could drop swimmin’ pools in, and I know them dogs couldn’t have dug ’em.”

“Yep,” I said, moving to stand in front of my mother. “Saw that. Maybe we should put in a pool.”

“Gram,” Steve said, trying to run interference. “I’m pretty sure The Price is Right is having a marathon this evening. We should get back home. Don’t want to miss the Big Showcase.”

“I think you’re right,” she told Steve, scratching her head. “But Missy here has a TV. Don’t you, darlin’?”

I shook my head at Missy. She read me correctly even though she had no idea what I was doing.

“Oh, Gram, my cable is out,” she lied. “I have a repair person coming tomorrow.”

“Bummer,” Gram said—right before she froze.

“Mama?” Alana said, floating out from behind me with a timid smile on her lips.

Gram gasped with delight and began to shake. “Alana baby?” she choked out.

“It’s me, Mama,” Alana said. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Gram’s smile turned into a pained grimace and her body began to convulse brutally. She became more transparent, and ghastly keening noises came out of her mouth from low in her throat.

“No!” I shouted as I pulled Gram from the air and held her tightly in my arms. “It’s okay, Gram. You’re fine. You were dreaming. You’re fine.”

“Your mama killed herself to follow her lover into the darkness. Suicide. Guaranteed ticket to Hell,” Gram said in a monotone as her thin body continued to jerk and contort in my embrace.

“What’s happening?” Charlie demanded. His eyes had turned silver and he became the badass Enforcer I’d witnessed several times.

“Mom,” my mother said weakly. My father quickly motioned for my mother to hide herself behind him. She followed the directive immediately.

“Your mama killed herself to follow her lover into the darkness. Suicide. Guaranteed ticket to Hell,” Gram repeated like a broken record.

“Yes, she did,” I told Gram, rocking her like a child in my arms. “That’s right.”

“Your mama killed herself to follow her lover into the darkness. Suicide. Guaranteed ticket to Hell.” Her voice was robotic and dead-sounding.

“What is happening?” Charlie repeated, alarmed.

“As we established, Clarissa planted the false narrative years ago. This is what happens when someone who has believed a vicious lie for decades is confronted with the truth,” Heather said.

“Can it be reversed?” I heard my mother whisper.

Gram heard her, too, and began having seizures in my arms until she literally passed out. What had been one of the best moments of my life was turning into one of the worst.

“It can only be reversed by the person who planted it,” Heather replied.

“Incorrect,” Michael said, looking down at the unconscious ghost of Gram in my arms. “Planted thoughts done in malice can’t be reversed. Unless…”

“Unless what?” I demanded, staring at the woman who’d given up her life to raise me. The woman who’d loved me unconditionally. Steve floated over and quietly sat beside me. His steady presence calmed me.

“Unless the one who planted it is destroyed,” Michael finished.

Clarissa was Immortal. Was that even possible? Was Gram going to be a freaking zombie now all the time? Could I even send her into the light if she never came back to me?

“Define destroyed,” my mother said, looking down at her own mother with utter devastation written all over her ghostly face.

“Completely turned to ash,” Gideon said, putting his hand on my shoulder for comfort. I reached back and placed my hand over his. “It’s not possible.”

“Nope, not buying it,” I said, letting go of Gideon and gently pushing Gram’s hair off her face and tucking it behind her ears the way she liked it. “You’re the one who keeps reminding me everything is possible if you believe.”

My mother observed Gideon’s and my gesture of ownership with each other and gave us a small smile. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past thirty-five years. Clarissa has been on my mind quite a bit,” she said. “I think I know how it can be done.”

Charlie shook his head. “The destruction of an Angel—true destruction—has dire consequences for the destroyer.”

“I concur,” Tim said. “It’s a death wish.”

“I’ll do it,” I said. “I don’t care what the price is.”

“Absolutely not,” Gideon said firmly. “I have the best chance of surviving. I will annihilate her.”

“Let’s not forget how much Karma enjoys assassination,” Tim pointed out.

Heather eyed Tim with annoyance. “Tim, volunteering Candy Vargo for a death mission is a shitty thing to do.”

Tim shrugged. “Trust me, Candy will be very put out if she’s not included in something that includes extermination.”

“Be that as it may,” Michael said. “I’m the reason we’re in this mess. The only one paying the price for ending the Angel of Mercy is me.”

“Well,” Missy said, glancing around. “There are certainly a lot of volunteers.”

“Clarissa is not a very well-liked individual,” my mother said dryly as she leaned in and kissed my cheek. She then touched Gram with reverence and adoration. “I’m so sorry, Mama,” she whispered to Gram. “I will make this right for you because I love you, and because you loved my baby and raised her when I couldn’t.”

“Will it work?” I asked. “Can we truly destroy her?”

My mother paused and glanced over at my father. Their eyes locked and they shared a secret exchange.

“That remains to be seen, Daisy,” she said. “And indeed, we shall see.”

Chapter Two

The next morning dawned bright, sunny and seriously cold. After what had gone down last night, I could have slept for a year. However, that was not in the cards. Instead, I was the somewhat unwilling human guest on an Immortal field trip.

Frozen blades of grass crunched under my sneakers as I followed Gideon in sleepy confusion. Exhaling, I could see my breath. I should be at home in front of a fire making plans to fix the mess that was my life. Instead, I was… Well, I had no clue what I was doing. No one would tell me.

Candy Vargo and Tim flanked me. Charlie brought up the rear. The mood was somber—felt like I was walking to the guillotine.

“Gideon, am I in trouble somehow?” The rules of the Immortal world were wildly unclear to me.

“No, babe,” he said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “We just want to make sure that you don’t get into trouble.”

The words were somewhat ominous and cryptic. Actually, my life felt ominous and cryptic at the moment. The more I found out, the less I knew. If wisdom came with age, I was at a disadvantage. I was a baby compared to my company. Clearly, no one was going to answer me, so I’d play along… for now.

I was a list maker—not that I ever completed them. However, they centered me and made me feel a little bit more in control. Having no paper or pen, I decided on a head list. It was better than badgering people for info that wasn’t forthcoming.

One—Gram’s ghostly coma-like condition was unchanged. Not good.

Two—My mom was with my father hidden safely away in his home. Good. My mom’s cryptic plan was a mystery, but that was on my list to unravel.

Three—Gram was at my house being guarded by Heather—my newly discovered sister and longtime dear friend—who just so happened to be the Immortal Arbitrator between Heaven and Hell. The fact that there were centuries separating us in age didn’t faze me. Heather looked like she was in her late thirties. It amazed me that Immortals could choose their age and change it on a whim.

And of course, the man I adored was older than dirt—literally. My new normal was anything but.

Four—Missy was fine, or so she said. We’d laid a lot on her last night and she’d come through like a champion. I was a little worried about her and Heather’s relationship, now that Missy knew Heather had been alive for-freakin’-ever, but that was their issue to work out.

Five—Steve was doing okay. I kept expecting him to go into the light now that the path was clear, but he seemed in no hurry to move on. Secretly, it delighted me. My dead gay husband was my best friend. I knew he would eventually leave me for good, but having him here calmed me. Life was a whirlwind of change. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

“This looks like a fine spot,” Candy Vargo announced, glancing around. “Off the beaten track. No one will stumble upon us here.”

“What exactly are we going to do here?” I asked.

Candy grinned. It wasn’t a sweet grin, but then again, Candy wasn’t exactly sweet—more like batshit crazy. “You’ll see.”

“That’s enough, Candy,” Gideon said sharply. “Everyone spread out. Daisy, stay with me.”

An anxious feeling coursed through my body and made my stomach tighten. With each frigid breath, I was unsure if I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or peel my skin off. I was worried about everyone—including me right now. My emotions ran amok. Lack of caffeine wasn’t helping. Running ten miles would be a good plan. Instead, I was standing in the middle of an empty field wondering if I was going to be alive an hour from now.

“I want you to hit me. Hard,” Gideon directed, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it to the ground.

Squinting at the man I loved, I laughed. The sound was tinny to my ear, but laughing was far better than dropping a string of profanities. I was Southern. Even after all that had gone down, I had a few manners left. “You’re kidding me.”

“He’s not,” Candy Vargo yelled from about twenty yards away, also taking off her winter coat and tossing it aside. Candy, the hot mess, was also known as Karma—the controller of fate. And my fate wasn’t looking too good at the moment. “After you nail Gideon, you’re gonna have a go at me.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take a pass,” I muttered, wondering if everyone had lost their minds. They were Immortal. I was not. I could see ghosts, dive into their minds and help them move on. Yes, I was coming into some bizarre and disturbing powers from the mind diving, but that didn’t mean I would survive an Immortal smackdown. Four Immortals to one human Death Counselor were not good odds, even though I knew no one present would off me on purpose.

Candy began doing jumping jacks and cackling like the insane nutjob that she was. Tim, my socially awkward, vibrator-rehoming buddy, was stretching and grinning. He was my local mailman and the Immortal Courier between the Darkness and the Light. He also believed that sex toys were immoral and refused to deliver them. We’d had a serious discussion about that one and he was trying to change his ways. And Charlie, the Immortal Enforcer who was married to one of my dearest human friends, June, cracked his knuckles and gave me the stink eye. Charlie was one of the sweetest people I knew—but not so much at the moment.

Before I’d even had my morning iced coffee with a healthy squirt of chocolate syrup, I’d been led to Gideon’s car and driven to the acres of gorgeous land he’d purchased for us to build a home on.

And now, apparently, I was supposed to punch all of my friends while avoiding death.

“Tell me this is a joke,” I pleaded with Gideon, who had not only removed his coat but his shirt as well.

He was half naked in thirty-degree weather. It was incredibly distracting. The man was otherworldly beautiful. The icy wind ruffled his blond hair, but the cold didn’t seem to affect his Adonis-like body… even though both the wind and his body were affecting me. Gideon was the Grim Reaper. I certainly know how to pick them.

“Not a joke, Daisy,” he said with a wink and a grin. His gray-blue eyes caught the morning sunlight and literally sparkled. “You need to be trained. While you can escape my embrace—which is impossible—I need to feel confident you can defend yourself if Clarissa comes for you.”

“I broke her nose,” I reminded him, trying in vain to keep my eyes on his face instead of his abs. “And clearly, it’s not impossible to escape your hold since I was able to do it.”

“Not what he means. Although, escaping death’s embrace is quite impressive,” Tim said, jogging over. “Just goes to show you everything is possible. I am becoming quite the social butterfly.”

“Yes, you are,” I said, biting on my bottom lip so I wouldn’t laugh.

I’d been including Tim and Candy Vargo when I got together with my girlfriends. Tim was frighteningly socially inept, but my friends were kind and welcoming. Candy was a disaster, but she was in desperate need of friends. Tim had connected with my buddy Jennifer, who knew more gross facts than he did. It was wildly unappetizing to spend too much time with the new dynamic duo of useless information. Add Candy to the equation and it was a regular gag fest.

Tim blushed and gave me a thumbs up. “Lean on the tree, Daisy.”

“Why?” I asked, wondering if I took off running if they could catch me. I was absurdly fast.

Running away would be ridiculous with all that was at stake, but getting my butt handed to me by the man I loved and my friends seemed extremely counterproductive.

“I’m going to stretch you,” he replied as if that was normal. “Not good to engage with those who can kill you ten times over if your muscles are tight.”

“Umm… that’s not exactly encouraging,” I grumbled, walking over to the tree and waiting to be stretched.

“Just joshing with you.” Tim squatted down and grabbed my left foot with both hands. “We have no intention of killing you. In fact, I’m not sure it could be accomplished even if we were of the mind to do so… which we’re not.”

“Good to know.” I shook my head and quickly took stock of my life before I lost it.

A few months ago, I was blissfully unaware of the Immortal world living among us. I was simply a forty-year-old widow heading for menopause and scraping by on a paralegal’s salary. Now, I had a houseful of deceased roommates who had grown on me to the point of ridiculousness. In my passed-on posse was my dead gay husband, Steve, and my beloved Gram. And now my mother. My father was an Archangel, and my boyfriend was the Grim Reaper. During some kind of farked-up Angel experiment using my father’s DNA, Heather had been created, making her my sister. That wasn’t all bad since I adored her, but it was certainly odd.

However, the rancid icing on the deadly cake was Clarissa. During my four decades on earth, I’d never hated anyone. There were those I didn’t care for, but hate wasn’t in my vocabulary… until now. Clarissa, the Angel of Mercy—an oxymoron if there ever was one—was the object of my red-hot rage and hatred. She’d caused Steve’s death to get back at me for being my father’s daughter. She’d implanted lies in Gram’s mind that could possibly destroy her afterlife. All of that was worthy of my hatred alone. But she’d killed my mother in cold blood—with her bare hands.

She was going to pay dearly for that.

But now? Now, it was looking like I was about to bite the big one in a field where I was supposed to build my dream home with Gideon. If I was pushing up daisies—pun pathetically intended—I couldn’t exact payback from the crazed Angel who’d done a fine job of destroying my life. I had thought that seeing ghosts and diving into their minds was nuts. I was wrong. I was living nuts this very second.

“What in the ever-lovin’ hey-hey? I’m not made of rubber,” I screeched as Tim tried to push my leg over my head.

“Relax.” Tim chuckled. “It’s still in the socket.”

“Not for long,” I growled, shoving him away and hopping around to make sure I could still run if I had to. “Look, I understand what you guys are trying to do, but this feels like a surefire way for me to end up in the hospital… for years, and I—”

In a flash of silver lightning, Charlie appeared right in front of me.

I screamed.

He gave me a lopsided grin and a friendly pat on the head. Dropping down on all fours, Charlie examined the ground.

I glanced over at Gideon in confusion, but his focus was on Charlie. Everyone’s focus was on Charlie. Had Charlie lost his marbles? Was I about to get attacked by the nicest man I knew?

Backing away slowly, I put a few feet between us so if I had to run, I would have a head start.

“What is he doing?” I whispered to Candy Vargo as she approached and eyed Charlie crawling around in the dirt.

Candy pulled the toothpick out of her mouth and pointed it at Charlie. “Lookin’.”

I rolled my eyes. Candy could end me with a flick of her unmanicured pinky finger, but my gut told me she wouldn’t. “For?” I snapped, needing to clarify his actions weren’t some weird ritualistic prequel to me getting my ass handed to me by the badass Immortal Enforcer.

“A footprint,” Gideon said, coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around me. “He’s trying to detect if you have one.”

“Everyone has footprints,” I said, then paused. Gideon didn’t mean a normal footprint.

All Immortals had a magical footprint, so to speak. As far as I knew, I didn’t. Or at least I hadn’t… However, I had other Immortal attributes that I refused to put too much thought into. Wrapping my mind around the possibility of living forever made me queasy. “Well?” I asked Charlie with some trepidation.

“Nothing,” he said, sitting back on his haunches and rubbing his balding head. “Not a trace of a footprint.”

Charlie looked to be in his sixties. In reality, he was far older—as in centuries older. He was slightly overweight with a contagious laugh and twinkling blue eyes. He worshiped the ground my dear friend June walked on, and as an Immortal, he was able to age along with her. June had no clue what her husband was, and it was probably best that way.

“Close your eyes,” Tim suggested to Charlie. “Might make it clearer.”

Glancing over my shoulder at Gideon, I squinted up at him. He kissed the tip of my nose and smiled. “Not everything can be seen with the eyes, Daisy,” he whispered. “Sometimes what we see is not the truth. Deprivation of senses can strip away the obvious and lead you to the objective.”

“What does a footprint look like?” I asked.

“For me, it’s a feeling,” Gideon replied.

“That’s kind of vague,” I pointed out.

He nodded and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Yep. But it’s the best way I can explain it.”

“For me, it’s a scent,” Tim explained. “The olfactory sense is a powerful tool. Did you know that putting some dry tea bags in running shoes will absorb the musky scent while imparting some of the tea bag’s more pleasant aroma?”

My eyes narrowed and I tried not to laugh. “Are you implying my running shoes are stinky?”

Tim giggled. It was adorable even though the man had just insulted me. “If the shoe fits…”

I rolled my eyes. “Coffee. I really need coffee.”

“Interesting you should bring up coffee,” Tim continued. “In actuality, coffee tastes nothing like it smells. Three hundred of the six hundred and thirty-one chemicals that combine to create the wonderful aroma are destroyed by saliva. This causes the flavor to mutate before we swallow it.”

Candy dropped her toothpick, retrieved it off the ground and put it back into her mouth. “Tim, you’re gonna need to shut your cakehole or I’m gonna shut it for you. Do not mess with my intimate relationship with wakey high octane brain juice by putting bullcrap into my freakin’ frontal lobe. You’re giving me gas with all that nonsense.”

Tim grinned and shrugged. “As you wish. But speaking of gas, during the 1665 bubonic plague in London, one of the cures recommended by doctors—and I use that term loosely—was a fart jar.”

I really didn’t want to ask, but I really had no choice. It would drive me batty if he didn’t finish the disgusting story. My mind would come up with something far worse if I didn’t know the truth. “And?” I asked with a wince.

“And what?” Tim asked with a little smirk.

“Leave it, Daisy,” Gideon said. “Not worth it.”

“Can’t,” I shot back with a groan. “Tim, you can’t end the story there. You have to finish it. I’m imagining some pretty rank things right now.”

Tim nodded and primly clasped his hands together. “To fight the plague, the ill would flatulate into the jar and then sniff the fumes.”

“Shut the front door,” I gagged out.

“It’s true,” Candy said, paling a bit. “Lived in London back then.”

The truth had beaten my imagination by a long shot. Reminder to self… stop asking Tim to clarify. It just didn’t end well. Ever. And while I knew Candy was old, it was statements like the one she’d just made that brought the unreal reality home.

“Did it work?” Tim inquired of Candy as Charlie continued to crawl on the ground, but now with his eyes closed.

“No, it didn’t work, numbnuts,” Candy grunted, flicking her used toothpick at Tim. “Sniffing tush coughs didn’t do anything except make me want to headbutt idiots.”

“Mmkay, I need a new fact to remove that junk from my head,” I muttered, picturing Candy Vargo with a glass jar in hand and a toothpick in her mouth.

“You’re a glutton for punishment,” Gideon pointed out with a chuckle.

“Correct,” I said, hoping Tim had something a little less gag-inducing to share.

“I would be delighted to oblige,” Tim said, pulling a piece of paper out of the pocket of his mail carrier uniform and clearing his throat.

“Nope,” Gideon cut in. “I’ve got this.”

“Oh my God.” I groaned. “You’re full of random facts as well?”

“I’m old,” he replied with a grin that sent a happy shiver through me. “Sue me.”

“Shoulda said do me,” Candy chimed in with a grunt of laughter and waggling eyebrows. “Get it?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Gideon replied dryly. “Moving on. Dogs have bacteria on their paws that make them smell like corn chips. The phenomenon is known as Frito Feet.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “The smell of Donna and Karen’s paws has a name?”

“Indeed, it does,” Tim said. “Now, my cat’s paws smell more like digestive biscuits or fragrant rice. It’s quite pleasant.”

“Are we gonna yack about feet or are we gonna kick Daisy’s ass?” Candy griped. “It’s freaking cold out here.”

“Then put your coat back on,” I told her. “And no one is going to kick my ass. I have entirely too much to do. Am I clear?”

“As mud,” Candy grumbled. “No one wants to have fun anymore.”

Gideon pressed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “We are here to teach Daisy to defend herself. Not to kick her ass. And if anyone tries to purposely kick her ass, I will destroy you.”

“Harsh,” Tim said, nodding with approval.

“Fact,” Gideon replied sharply.

Charlie stood up and took my hand in his. Walking me out to the center of the field, he gently touched my cheek. “You will not be harmed. Some of what you will see today will be us going at each other so you can understand what you might be up against with Clarissa.”

“At least one of you is always with me,” I told Charlie, wiping some dirt from the shoulder of his bright blue jacket. “If Clarissa comes directly for me, I won’t be alone.”

I recognized the jacket. I’d been with June when she bought it for him last Christmas. She had been thrilled when she found a color that matched her husband’s eyes.

Charlie nodded. “Clarissa will try to separate all of us. It’s how she works.”

“We’ll stick together. Period.” I wasn’t a weak girlie girl at all, but I wasn’t a gazillion-year-old Immortal either. I was smart enough to know when to ask for help.

“Far easier said than done,” Charlie said.

Fine. He was right. Clarissa was a sneaky bitch who had nothing to lose at this point. The fact made her more dangerous than ever. She’d been reported to whomever Immortals got reported to for causing Steve’s death and trying to send him to the darkness when he was destined for the light. It was a crime that would strip her of her title, power and immortality. Anything in my arsenal that would help me end her or keep me from dying would be helpful.

However, ending her could be problematic. At the moment, she was still Immortal since she’d avoided getting caught. The only way to reverse what she had done to Gram by planting a false cause of my mother’s death in her head was the complete destruction of the Angel of Mercy.

Even though my mother seemed to have a plan in mind, it didn’t mean it would work. To be fair, my mother had spent over thirty years inside Missy. A lot had changed in that time. I had to look at the situation as if I were on my own.

“Teach me,” I said. “Now.”

“I have a thought,” Candy Vargo said, joining us in the middle of the field.

“That’s kind of scary,” I told her.

“Usually,” she agreed. “But I can’t shake it. It’s kind of like an itch on your back that you can’t reach, so you grab a steak knife to scratch it and ten minutes later you need twenty stitches.”

“Do you actually have a point?” I asked, thinking that if she wasn’t Immortal, she would have been six feet under centuries ago.

Candy pulled out a fresh toothpick and turned to Charlie. “Tell Daisy how you see footprints.”

Charlie looked at Candy blankly for a moment, then a small smile pulled at his lips. “I see shadows,” Charlie told me. “They flit away as quickly as they appear, but that’s how I detect a footprint.”

I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I was going with it. “What about you, Candy Vargo?”

“I get a tingle,” she replied.

“Tell her where you get this tingle,” Tim called out as he stood with Gideon over by the tree.

“Shut up, jackhole,” Candy yelled, lifting her middle finger to Tim.

I knew I shouldn’t ask, but as Gideon had pointed out, I was a glutton for punishment. “Where do you get a tingle? In your butt?”

“Nope,” Candy said, methodically picking the bottom row of her teeth. “My left knocker. It’s the bigger one.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and wondered if I was being punked. Deciding to go with it, I laughed. “Well, that’s certainly better than your butt.”

“Correct,” Candy agreed.

How had I ended up here and why did it seem normal?

“So… umm… I guess your knocker is tingling now because all of you are here and walking around?” I asked.

“Nah,” Candy said with a chuckle. “My knocker works on command. It would suck all kinds of ass if my boob buzzed all the time. I can make it vibrate. You wanna feel it?”

“Thanks, but that’s a hard no,” I said.

“Your loss,” Candy replied as she wandered farther out into the field.

In her wake, she left a trail of sparkling green dust… or I thought she did. Rubbing my eyes, then opening them again, I stared hard at her feet. It was there. Barely, but I saw it.

“Candy, stop,” I yelled as I squinted at the ground and wondered if I was imagining things. The mind was powerful and I was nuts already.

“What?” Candy asked, turning around. “You change your mind?”

“About what?” I asked, confused, as Charlie’s gaze bounced between us.

“You wanna touch my knocker?” she asked, pointing at her left breast with her toothpick.

“Nope. I don’t ever want to touch your knocker,” I told her, shaking my head. While my life might be spiraling into chaos, it was never dull. “Walk towards me, please.”

I watched the ground around her feet and sighed in frustration. The faded sparkling green light I thought I had seen was absent. Crap.

“What do you see?” Charlie asked, his eyes glued to mine.

“Nothing now,” I replied. “I thought I saw a trail of green glitter—for lack of a better description—following Candy. I think it’s officially time for all of us to agree I’ve lost it.”

Charlie’s sharp inhale and exhale of breath alarmed me. His normally blue eyes turned silver. He looked as scary as hell. “Green? You saw green?”

Gideon and Tim quickly crossed the field. Tim seemed thrilled. Gideon’s face was expressionless. Candy just picked her teeth and raised a brow.

“I think I imagined it,” I whispered, feeling unsettled and like I was about to fall off the edge of a cliff.

“Tim,” Charlie commanded, his eyes still silver. “Walk away. Do not stop until you are directed to do so.”

Tim gave Charlie a curt nod and did as asked. Without being told, I stared at the ground behind Tim’s feet as he leisurely walked away. Grabbing Gideon’s arm so I didn’t crumple like an accordion, I squeezed my eyes closed then opened them.

Tim left a faint gray trail—harder to see than the green trail Candy left, but I was certain I saw something. Deciding it was definitely time to stop second-guessing myself, I turned to the scary version of Charlie. “I see gray.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then he smiled. It was a bit frightening, but the joyous laugh that accompanied it made me blow out a huge breath of relief.

“She’s right,” Charlie announced, examining me with wonder and confusion.

“Right about what?” Gideon demanded, not following.

“When I see Candy’s footprint shadow, it’s green. Tim’s is gray,” Charlie explained with excitement. He began to pace in a tight circle. “While we can’t detect Daisy’s footprint, it looks like she can detect ours.”

“And that’s helpful because?” I asked, leaning back on Gideon for balance.

“Hang on,” Charlie said, glancing over at Tim, who was still in retreat. “Tim, come back.”

Tim sprinted over and grinned. “Our girl is gifted.” Tim gave me a thumbs up.

“I only see the color when people are walking away from me,” I told everyone. “It disappears when someone is walking towards me.”

Charlie whispered something to Gideon, then motioned for him to walk away. “Tell me what you see.”

“Black,” I said without hesitation. “Gideon leaves a trail of black glitter.”

Gideon stopped dead in his tracks, turned and stared at me. “Death,” he said flatly. “I leave a trail of death.”

“Not buying what you’re selling, Reaper,” I said, raising my brow. “You are the best person I know.”

The smile came slowly to his full lips and the tension in my body relaxed. I knew a lot about Gideon, but there were thousands of years I knew nothing of. If I asked, I knew he would share. However, he would tell me when he was ready. Also, covering thousands of years would be challenging. I couldn’t remember what I ate yesterday or where my car keys were.

“I’m curious,” Charlie said. “I have no clue what color my own footprint leaves. Can you tell me, Daisy?”

Charlie walked away from me and kept glancing back over his shoulder.

“Turquoise,” I told him. “Sparkly turquoise.”

“Interesting.” Charlie clapped his hands with delight. “Shall we get started then?”

“Started?” I asked.

“With your training, my dear.”

“Wait,” I said, trying to make the jagged line of information linear. “Why is it good that I can see footprints?”

“Because if you can see ours, you can see Clarissa’s,” Tim replied. “It could be the difference between life and death.”

Inhaling deeply and pushing aside the new knowledge that I shouldn’t have and didn’t know if I wanted, I nodded. It was time to train.

No pain. No gain.

I just hoped it didn’t hurt too much.

Chapter Three

Never again. Never again would I willingly or semi-willingly go on a field trip with Immortals. Never ever, ever, ever. Period. Hanging out at my house with dead people was easier and far more fun.

“Pretty sure the cops are going to show up,” I shouted over the explosive thunder and lightning. Gideon and Charlie flew overhead like avenging Angels trying to kill each other.

I could feel my heart beating in my throat and my stomach roiled. If I didn’t know better—and unfortunately, I did—I’d think I was watching a high-budget special effects movie playing out in real time. It was somehow easier to accept that my lover and my friends were Immortal without seeing the bloody and savage evidence.

Tim looked alarmed at my words and quickly waved his hands in a circular motion. The frigid air was replaced with a warmer temperature and an iridescent bluish glow surrounded the open field where more violence was taking place than I’d ever witnessed.

“What did you just do?” I asked as I winced and closed my eyes. Charlie attacked Gideon with so much force, I was sure the love of my life was a goner.

The fact that they were laughing calmed me slightly—slightly being the operative word.

“Your point was well made,” Tim said with a thumbs up. “We were unwise not to cloak what we’re doing. The police are the least of our issues. I created a bubble. In our excitement, we were sloppy.”

“Excitement to tear each other apart?” I asked, gasping as Gideon roared and body-slammed Charlie, sending him hurtling into a massive tree.

Charlie was fine. The tree, not so much.

Tim nodded and grinned. “It’s quite rare for us to let loose like this.”

“Probably a good thing,” I replied, then quickly dodged an explosion that sent silver and purple fireballs across the field.

“My turn,” Candy yelled as she shot into the air and headbutted Charlie, creating a blast of debris that should have blinded both of them.

“I’m gonna die,” I choked out, ducking as rocks and branches flew unchecked through the air.

“Do something about it,” Tim urged, snapping his fingers and setting a cackling Candy Vargo on fire.

“Like what?” I demanded, gaping at him like he was insane.

Actually, he was. They all were… and clearly, I was too.

“Figure it out,” Tim yelled as he joined the bloody fray.

Hiding behind the remains of the hundred-year-old tree that had fallen to the ground, I eyed the four Immortals who were joyously trying to exterminate each other. I was fully aware that all had promised not to use death blows on each other, but while that might prevent them from kicking the bucket, I knew I wouldn’t be as lucky.

“Do something about it,” I muttered, repeating Tim. “What the heck am I supposed to do about it?”

My socially inept buddy had far more confidence in me than I did. There was no way I could compete by diving into the magical shitshow, but…

But I could slow them down.

Maybe.

I’d knocked down a tree with my bare hands. I’d leveled a house just by thinking about it. I’d put out a fire Clarissa had caused with a swipe of my hand. And most importantly, I’d escaped the embrace of death. It could add up to a big fat nothing, but it was worth a try.

Or I could wait until they exhausted themselves and yell at them until my face turned blue. While that might make my friends feel bad, it would do absolutely nothing if I came across Clarissa on my own.

“Fine,” I snapped, even though I was the only one who could hear myself over the massive cracks of thunder and destruction going on. “I will do something.”

Waiting patiently for an opening, my heartbeat sped up as Candy positioned herself for a new attack in a small grove of giant trees. Without a second thought, I sprinted like the Devil was on my heels. Both hands extended forward, I hit the first tree, pivoted on a dime and hit the one to the right. I inhaled and kicked the two trees behind me with a grunt and a scream.

The sound of my voice echoed in my ears and seemed to come from someplace unfamiliar. The trees uprooted and trapped a shocked Candy in their tangled wooden embrace. I guesstimated that bought me approximately a minute or two to take down Gideon, Charlie and Tim.

“Damn, I wish there was a house to blow up,” I muttered, then froze. If I could level a house, could I create one?

The degree of violence around me escalated and Tim’s arm went spiraling through the air, landing at my feet. I knew it was Tim’s arm because his list of gross trivia was clutched in the fingers. Silently, I thanked my deceased house guests for getting me used to disembodied appendages. Of course, Tim’s arm wasn’t ghostly, but I didn’t puke. Point for me.

Closing my eyes, I envisioned a jail—an iron fortress. Picturing Gideon, Charlie and Tim trapped securely inside, I grunted and threw my hands in the air. The screaming sound of grinding metal and surprised shouts of confusion were music to my aching ears.

Opening my eyes, I was as shocked as the men who were temporarily trapped in a medieval-looking iron monstrosity.

“Excellent,” Gideon shouted with both of his eyes practically swollen shut.

“Did Daisy do this?” Charlie demanded, testing the strength of the iron.

“She did!” Tim shouted, giving me a wave with the arm he still had. “Did you happen to notice a detached appendage?”

With a sigh of relief that my training might be over for the day, I nodded and picked up his arm off the ground. Holding it high over my head, I rolled my eyes. “Like this one?”

“Oh, yes! That belongs to me,” Tim said, nodding. “Would you mind terribly returning it?”

“Well, I certainly don’t want to keep it,” I said flatly, walking the fifty feet to where I’d trapped my friends. “It doesn’t fit in with the décor of my house.”

“I beg to differ,” Tim said with a chuckle. “There are body parts all over your farmhouse.”

He had me there.

Part of me wondered if I was walking into a trap. I wasn’t sure how long—or if—the iron would actually hold Gideon, Charlie and Tim. However, it had only taken a few seconds to create it. I could do it again and again if I had to.

“You might have trapped those weenies, but you didn’t trap me,” Candy shouted from behind me.

I groaned. Seriously? “Candy, you really need to—” I began as I turned around and gasped.

There was not one Candy Vargo. There were two.

Gideon’s words roared to the front of my brain. “Sometimes what we see is not the truth. Deprivation of senses can strip away the obvious and lead you to the objective.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on which one of the two boob-tingling Candy Vargos was the real Candy Vargo.

“Nope, not working,” I muttered, opening my eyes and backing up against the iron prison I’d created. Staring at the ground by the Candys’ feet, I tried to detect a footprint. I hoped that a fake Candy freaking Vargo wouldn’t have one. Only problem—both Candy Vargos were facing me and neither one was moving.

“There’s power in stillness,” Gideon whispered. “Wait her out.”

“Maybe,” I said, keeping my eyes glued right between the two versions of Fate so I would be aware if either of them moved.

“It’s time for you to have a go at me,” both of them yelled in unison, picking their teeth with toothpicks.

I had a few options. I was faster than hell. I could circle behind them and try to see who left a trail of green glittering light. That could also end badly—for me. I considered another iron cage of sorts, but Candy had already seen me do it. Candy might be gross, but she was deadly and smart.

Gideon covertly touched my back out of Candy’s view. “Can you hear me?”

“Umm… yes,” I said, barely moving my mouth.

“Good,” he replied. “Do not speak to me. Think about this situation. Remember Candy’s temperament and that there is more power in stillness than in movement. Aggression should be used only when a result can be produced. Words can bite far worse than a fist in certain situations. Use them and use them wisely.”

Walking forward, I stood about thirty feet from the Candys and waited. Their eyes were crazed with excitement. It was terrifying. One would be bad enough. Two Candys were going to give me nightmares for a few months.

Words… Words could bite. I knew this, but I was Southern for the love of everything stupidly polite. While I didn’t want to be attacked by the real or the fake Candy, I also didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” they growled. “You gotta toughen up, girlie.”

I smiled.

Their eyes narrowed in surprise. “You gonna fight me, weenie?”

I laughed.

Both freaking Candys’ eyes spit fire—literally.

This was not going well. Words. Use words. Make her move. Make her sloppy. Apologize after… well, apologize after if I was still among the living.

“Get the toothpick out of your mouth,” I said flatly, hoping they would do the opposite.

“Why?” they demanded, shoving at least ten more in.

“It’s disgusting and unladylike,” I snapped with an eye roll.

“Bullshuut,” they grunted, shoving two more fistfuls into their mouths.

“She’s Immortal, right?” I asked frantically. “She’ll live through whatever I do, right?”

“Absolutely,” Tim promised.

Remembering that Candy had survived when I threw her a hundred feet in the air to save her from getting mowed down by Heather’s car, I went for it.

“Great.” I flipped fake and real Candy Vargo off. “Eat crap.”

“Shit would be stronger,” Tim pointed out.

“Cursing isn’t my thing,” I snapped, although Tim made a fine point. Crap might be a little weak. “Gram doesn’t like potty words.”

Gram wasn’t here at the moment, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I flipped them off again, but this time it was a double birdie. Potty sign language didn’t count.

Both Candys, with mouthfuls of toothpicks, shrieked and began charging.

Picturing a debilitating straight-line wind, I sliced my hands through the air. The violent current of air hit the Candys like a brick wall, shoving the toothpicks down their throats and into their esophagi. I felt awful, but I had to behave as if it was me or them. Plus, I really needed to know which one of them was the real Candy.

“Muuuthaar foaaarker,” they screamed as the wind continued to batter them.

Without thinking—because right now that was seriously overrated and possibly deadly—I sprinted around them and pushed the closest Candy forward. No footprint.

Bingo.

Diving like I was twenty rather than forty, I tackled the real Candy Vargo as she continued to choke. Punching her probably would have been the smartest thing to do if she was truly going to kill me, but I just couldn’t.

“You’re an idiot,” I grunted. I yanked her to her feet, turned her away from me.

I placed one foot slightly in front of the other and thanked my lucky stars that my YMCA self-defense class had included first aid. Tilting her forward while she was cussing me out like a sailor on a bender was a challenge, but I succeeded. She was turning blue. There was no time to waste. I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and kneed her bony ass so she would quit struggling. Her shock at my non-traditional move made her go still. Quickly, I placed a fist above her navel, grasped it with my other hand, and Heimliched the living hell out of her.

“What in the daylights is she doing?” I heard Charlie yell in confusion.

Gideon laughed and sighed. “She’s saving Candy Vargo.”

“Kind of counterproductive,” Tim commented.

“That’s my Daisy,” Gideon said, watching as Candy puked up about fifty toothpicks.

“Get them all out, you asshat,” I demanded. I continued to perform upward thrusts as the wood dislodged from her throat. “Do you see why you shouldn’t use toothpicks? Not only are they disgusting, they’re a choking hazard, dumbass.”

“Enough,” Candy grunted, trying to throw me off of her.

“Are they all out?” I snapped, lifting her off the ground again and again.

“Yessssssss,” she hissed. “And I’m pretty sure my liver is in my damn mouth along with my intestines.”

Dropping her to the ground, I sank down beside her. My heart was racing, and I was pretty sure I failed the test. My body shook like a leaf. I wasn’t cut out for this. But Immortal or no, Candy—as disgusting as she was—was my friend. I wasn’t used to trying to kill my friends for sport. It sucked.

“Daisy,” Gideon called out. “Would you care to let us out of the cage?”

I peered over at him. “You can’t get out?”

“We can,” he admitted. “I just want you to have a little more practice with your power.”

“Mmkay,” I said, side-eyeing a still-coughing Candy. “If I move to let the guys out are you going to jump me from behind?”

“Hell no,” Candy said. “You’re a dang menace. I’m done.”

I laughed. The entire day had been insane so far and it was still before noon. “I’ll remove the cage if you promise that we’re done for today.”

“Deal,” Gideon said with a grin.

Damn, he was beautiful. But looks could be deceiving.

“Swear on it, Reaper,” I said, getting to my feet and raising a brow.

Gideon put his hand to his heart and feigned offense. “You don’t trust me, Counselor?”

“Normally, yes,” I conceded. “However, when you’re out to do things for my own good, not so much.”

Gideon kept his hand on his heart. “I swear. You have my word that we are done… for today.”

I rolled my eyes. Waving my hand, the iron cage disintegrated around them. Gideon, Charlie and Tim were now waist-deep in gray dust. My knees buckled and I sank to the ground. If this was the way to end Clarissa, I was primed to fail and that was unacceptable.

Gideon waded out of the rubble and extended his hand.

“I need coffee,” I said, tears filling my eyes. “With five squirts of chocolate syrup.”

“And you shall have it,” he promised, pulling me into his strong embrace and holding me tight.

“I failed,” I whispered against his chest.

“No,” Tim said, patting me lovingly on the back with his unattached arm. “You most certainly did not fail.”

“Umm… while that’s lovely to hear, do you mind not touching me with that?” I asked.

Tim blushed and tucked his arm inside his coat. “So sorry. That was a bit uncouth.”

Charlie shook his head and chuckled. “Daisy, you did not fail. Far from it. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to draw some blood again.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Now,” he said, pulling a sterile syringe, two tubes and vial out of his pocket.

I wasn’t entirely sure how all of that had made it through the smackdown but decided not to ask.

“Sure,” I said, pushing up the sleeve of my coat and extending my arm. “It seems fitting to end the morning with a little more bloodshed.”

Gideon threw his head back and laughed. I lived for the sound of his laughter. It did things to my insides that I couldn’t explain with words. I craved it. Charlie, Tim and even Candy Vargo joined in. Candy’s voice sounded like she’d swallowed glass, but that’s what she got for shoving so many damn toothpicks in her mouth. She’d probably set a record, but I wasn’t about to share the news. She’d pick up all the toothpicks she’d puked up and count them to see if she should contact Guinness.

Today had been alarming enough without ending it on that repulsive note.

Chapter Four

The ride back to my farmhouse was quiet. My home sat in the middle of twenty acres surrounded by lush forest. The house was lovely and warm. I’d done all the painting and some of the other manual labor things, but Steve had been the one with the great decorating skill. All of the furniture was overstuffed and in soothing patterns and faded florals. The floors were a lightly stained, pitted cherry and the walls were repossessed barnwood we’d bought at an estate sale. It had seen better days, but it was welcoming and comfortable and I loved it.

I wasn’t sure what I would do with the house when Gideon and I built our new home together. The farmhouse held so many memories, I wasn’t sure I could let it go.

The hum of the engine as Gideon drove with a sure hand and a lead foot was only interrupted by Candy. She cleared her raw throat constantly while Tim made unsuccessful attempts to reattach his arm. After the third time it hit the floorboards, I leaned over the seat, grabbed it and put it in my lap.

“I’ll glue it back on when we get to my house.”

“Much obliged,” Tim said with a nod of relief.

Charlie glanced at me in surprise. “Will that work?”

I shrugged. “It works on the ghosts,” I told him. “You guys aren’t exactly human so I figure it might work on you too.”

“Logical,” Tim chimed in. “Very logical. And if it doesn’t work, I should be able to grow a new one in a few days.”

“Not logical,” I said with a pained laugh. “However, also not unexpected. What would happen if you were beheaded?”

“Candy?” Tim pressed with a smirk. “Would you like to field that question?”

“Nope,” Candy grumbled. “I would not, asscrank.”

Tim sighed dramatically, and I prepared myself to be grossed out.

“Candy had an unfortunate run-in with a guillotine a few centuries ago. As you can see, she still has a head,” he pointed out.

I caught Gideon’s eye for a brief moment as he drove. He winced and shook his head. He knew and I knew I couldn’t leave the information alone. I don’t know why he even bothered to try to save me from myself. It was futile.

“So… umm… it didn’t work?” I asked, then held my breath. “Her head wouldn’t come off?”

If that was the case, it must have been shocking to the people trying to decapitate her. Plus, Candy could have offed all of them with a flick of her fingers. None of it made sense.

“Wanted to see what it felt like,” Candy announced.

I was almost shocked to silence. Almost. “You wanted to see what having your head removed felt like?” I choked out.

“Yep,” she said, going for a toothpick, then thinking better of it.

Maybe I’d finally broken her of the nasty habit. I would never remember what I’d done to her with fondness, but maybe something good had come out of it—like manners.

“What did it feel like?” I asked, unable to squash my morbid curiosity.

“Hurt like a mother humper. Wouldn’t recommend it. Took a month for the dang thing to grow back. Had to hide in a cave for a while,” she explained as if she was talking about the weather. “My hair came back a different color and my teeth were crooked. Liked my old head better, but what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” I said dryly. “Maybe not voluntarily get beheaded?”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Candy commented with a grin. “Living forever can make you do strange things every once in a while.”

“Understatement,” I muttered.

Candy’s words hit home hard. Living forever sounded far more like a curse than a blessing. I was not Immortal. I had no footprint. That seemed to be the deciding factor. Yes, I had developed farked-up powers, but I could explain them. Each time I dove into the mind of one of the dead, I came out slightly different. I no longer needed glasses and could run insane distances without breaking a sweat. Of course, knocking down trees and houses and creating wall winds and iron fortresses were a little more difficult to wrap my mind around.

Along with all my new gifts, I seemed to be aging backwards—nothing too alarming, but it was noticeable. My Botox-obsessed human buddy, Jennifer, had pointed it out on multiple occasions. Blowing it off and lying to her was getting harder. I was fairly sure I’d extended my life a bit, but I was okay with that. I didn’t regret helping the dead and I would continue to do it. It fulfilled me in a way I’d never known. Plus, it gave me more years with Gideon.

Pushing my worries about myself aside, I focused on the present. “We need to talk with my mom and dad,” I said. Saying the words mom and dad sent a little thrill through me. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine spending time with my parents. Granted, my mother was a ghost, but it still counted. The more I got to know my father, the more I loved him. “Alana implied that she might have an idea of how to destroy Clarissa.”

No one said a word.

That didn’t bode well.

“Somebody speak,” I ground out. “Keeping things from me at this point is a very bad plan.”

Charlie nodded warily. “How familiar are you with the Bible?”

“Not very,” I admitted. “Why?”

“There’s a passage in Leviticus that states, ‘And a man who injures his countryman—as he has done, so it shall be done to him.’ Basically, an eye for an eye,” Charlie explained.

“That is correct,” Tim said. “However, if we move on to the new testament, in the book of Matthew, Jesus repudiates that notion. ‘Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

“I’m gonna go on record and say Daisy is more like Jesus than Leviticus,” Candy said. “I would have survived choking on my picks, but it was damn nice of Daisy to Heimlich me, even though she rearranged my intestines.”

I laughed. There was no other choice. “You’re welcome.” I wasn’t sure my act merited comparing me to Jesus, but a compliment was a compliment no matter how freaking weird. Plus, it was ingrained in me to be polite—Southern DNA.

Gideon pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. “Actually, we can take this conversation all the way back to Hammurabi’s Code before any of the books of the Bible were created.”

“True,” Candy said. “Mesopotamian King. He was an interesting guy—very nice ass. He was the first to demand an eye for an eye, along with a bunch of other shit.”

“Shit is a rather dismissive word,” Tim pointed out. “Hammurabi’s rule of law is what much has been based on through the centuries.”

Candy shrugged. “And he had a nice ass.”

Pressing my hand to the frosted window, I made a print. Religious history was barbaric. Religion itself was pretty barbaric. I was still somewhat torn about what I believed. I could no longer deny an afterlife. I’d seen the light and I’d seen the darkness, and I’d helped the dead move on. Heather had explained the afterlife as more of a state of mind than a place.

None of it truly computed in my mind. Grappling with it constantly, I felt I needed to try to understand since I was helping to send people on. But making sense of words and ideas that bloody wars were still fought over was close to impossible. The more I learned, the less I knew. And while the lesson was interesting, I wasn’t following why I needed to know it.

Or, maybe I was.

An eye for an eye… a life for a life.

Crap.

“Wait. You think Alana is planning to go down with Clarissa to satisfy the ancient rule?” I asked breathlessly. “She’ll let herself be destroyed to end the Angel of Mercy?”

Gideon put two fingers under my chin and turned my head to face his. “I think if she could do that, she would. She did it thirty years ago and traded her human life for yours. Her love for you is not up for debate. But she’s dead—your mother is a ghost. The tradeoff wouldn’t work.”

“Accurate,” Charlie confirmed. “It doesn’t satisfy the eye-for-an-eye edict. But…”

My mind raced. The car went from feeling spacious to tiny and cramped. “They plan to trade my father’s life for Clarissa’s,” I blurted out, jerking open the door and hopping out of the car. Where the frigid air had bothered me earlier, I welcomed the painful bite. “They want to be together. Michael will die so he can be with Alana.”

“In theory,” Candy said, getting out of the car and stretching. “However, if Michael is successful in ending the cow bitch, not real sure he’s headed to the same place your mom is.”

“Shit,” I said. “Son of a bitch, shit, shit, shit.” If Gram was awake, she’d wash my mouth out with soap. However, shit was mild compared to what I wanted to say. Again, I felt like peeling my skin off. Instead, I removed my coat and let the icy breeze cut straight into my bones. “No can do. No one else who I love will pay for Clarissa’s sins.”

“We’re not sure that’s what Alana has planned,” Tim said, picking up my coat and wrapping it around me with his one good arm. “But we’ve come up with nothing else viable thus far.”

“Guessing could be disastrous,” I said, waving Tim’s arm around in my distress. “No more speculation. No more cryptic bullcrap. We lay it all out and then prepare to wing it since Clarissa is a devious jackhole with nothing to lose.”

“Solid,” Gideon agreed, removing Tim’s arm from my shaking hands before I accidently launched it into the woods. “We need to get Heather up to speed, then meet with Clarence and Alana. We will work as a team. And we’ll work fast.”

I nodded and pressed my palm to my forehead, trying to ward off the headache blooming over my eyes. “I need coffee. ASAP.”

“Coffee, then talk,” Charlie said.

“On the front porch. I have heaters outside. We’ll be comfortable,” I told them. “If Gram wakes up and hears us discussing Alana, that could backfire in a way I’m not prepared for.”

“Yep, I’ll go apeshit on anyone who harms Gram again—like an un-lubed-pole-up-the-ass apeshit—a big f-ing pole,” Candy said, looking down at her feet and wiping away a tear.

“That’s a bit graphic,” Tim commented.

“It’s a fact,” Candy shot back.

Candy adored Gram. Gram had been riding Candy’s ass like a freight train for the past few weeks. Candy Vargo was Gram’s newest project and she had been suffocating the mannerless woman with love and attention. While Candy bitched and moaned, she not so secretly loved it. No one had ever cared so much for her and her well-being. When Gram woke up—which she would—she’d have a dang fit that Candy had let herself get decapitated.

“You do realize I’m going to tell her about you getting your head whacked off on purpose,” I said, crossing the yard.

“Well, shit,” Candy muttered with a laugh. “She’s gonna give me hell.”

“Well deserved,” I told her.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Candy said, sounding more serious and hopeful than I’d ever heard her.

“It will happen,” I promised.

It had to.

Chapter Five

There were four of them. They sat on my couch looking confused and scared. A man and woman around my age and two small children. The children were girls and appeared to be about five or six. They sat between the two adults, who held them close.

Up until now, all of the ghosts had been adults—most of them old. I’d never seen a child ghost. My heart felt heavy in my chest and I forced myself to breathe evenly.

My dogs, Donna the Destroyer and Karen the Chair Eater, lay on the floor at their feet. Donna, as a Hell Hound, was aware of the ghosts. Karen—a goofy Labrador—was not, but she followed her furry sister’s lead in most things. My beautiful, sweet furballs seemed to calm the little girls, who stared at them with childlike curiosity.

I wanted to cry, but that wouldn’t help anyone. My job as the Death Counselor was to find out why they were still here, solve their problem and help them move on.

“They showed up right after you left,” Heather said quietly, entering the family room from the kitchen and handing me my special iced coffee. “I can’t understand them.”

“They tried to speak to you?” I asked, surprised. I swallowed back half of the coffee in one grateful and noisy slurp.

She nodded and smiled kindly at what I assumed was a family unit. “I think so. The man made some whispery sounds for a while, but I explained I couldn’t make out what he was saying and that you would be home soon.”

“Is Gram the same?” I asked her.

“She is. No change. Steve is with her. He had me set the TV on a Price Is Right marathon and is hoping her boyfriend, Bob Barker, can pull her back,” she told me.

I nodded and sat down in the overstuffed armchair across from the new ghosts. Focusing on something else was good right now. If I thought too much about Gram’s situation, I would lose it. I pulled the afghan that Gram had made around me to ward off the chill I still felt and gave the newly arrived guests my full attention. They examined me as I examined them. Their state of decay was mild compared to some of the others who had shown up at my house. They also had all their body parts. I wasn’t going to have to use any superglue on this foursome.

They seemed like a family, but there was little resemblance between the parents and the children. I surmised that their deaths were recent. There were still strands of color in their hair. After a while, every feature of a ghost turned gray. While the parents had dark hair and eyes, the two small girls were blonde with cornflower-blue eyes.

Genes were interesting. Maybe both of the girls had gotten the recessive genes. Or possibly, the girls were adopted and they shared no DNA with the parents. What was obvious to me was that they were a unit. The man and woman were very concerned and protective of the children.

There were about ten ghosts in residence at my home, including Steve and Gram—now there were fourteen with the new arrivals. I never pushed for anyone to leave. I let the dead come to me when they were ready to move on.

“Hi, I’m Daisy. I’m a Death Counselor,” I said. “I can help you.”

The man and woman began chattering. The sound was high-pitched and frantic. A light bulb in my lamp shattered due to the shrillness of their speech—for lack of a better way to describe the sound. I felt their desperation deep in my gut. Donna’s ears shot up in alarm. She whimpered and pressed her furry body against the couch to comfort the family.

“Slow down, please,” I said, holding up my hands. “One at a time. Maybe I can understand without having to mind dive.”

“You can’t mind dive right now,” Heather reminded me sharply as Gideon, Tim, Candy and Charlie came in from the cold. They stood in the foyer and watched the exchange. “It’s too dangerous for you right now.”

“Debatable,” I replied dryly. After this morning, mind diving seemed like a vacation.

“Seriously, Daisy,” Heather said, exasperated. “Someone has to look out for you since you don’t seem to do a good job if it.”

“Mmkay,” I said, doing my best not to yell or get up in her face. “I am fully aware you just said that because you love me. However, do I tell you how to do your job?”

Heather was silent. Her level gaze was still on me, but she was at a loss for words.

“Do I?” I pressed.

Heather’s chin fell to her chest and she groaned. “No, you don’t.”

“Correct. And I won’t. Ever. So, while I know it might not be the smartest thing to mind dive, it’s not off the table. I’ll try the Ouija board first. I promise.”

Gideon stepped farther into the room and ran his hand over my wild dark hair, tucking some messy curls behind my ear. “Daisy becomes more powerful each time she dives,” he reminded everyone and then eyed me. “As long as you don’t take on the person’s pain or die for them, it might not be harmful.”

“Daisy has to recover after each dive,” Heather said, not backing down. “Not sure there’s time for that.”

I inhaled deeply, then slowly blew out the breath as I formed my thoughts. “I refuse to live in fear. Clarissa took a lot from me. She can’t have any more. Fear breeds doubt. Doubt is messy and counterproductive. I have never had more to live for, and I have no time to die. However, if that’s in the cards, I’m going out living life to the fullest. You feel me?”

Heather stayed silent, but gave me a curt nod.

“Heather,” I said, standing up and moving to her. “Gram’s afterlife is in peril. Hell, all of our lives are in danger right now. Well, maybe technically not yours,” I said, referring to my Immortal friends. “But Clarissa is capable of a lot of damage. Yes, being on top of my game is imperative, but Gideon made a good point. Maybe it’s wise to continue to do what I’m meant to do.”

“And maybe not,” she muttered, then sighed. “But with that being said, I’ll support whatever you choose and will keep my mouth shut.”

“Really?” I asked, squinting at her in disbelief.

“Okay, fine,” Heather huffed with a grin, running her hands through her attractive pixie cut. “I will support you. Keeping my mouth shut is a goal I probably won’t reach. You happy, sister of mine?”

“I am,” I said, giving her a quick hug, then reaching for Gideon. “Now, if you guys can leave me alone with my new friends for a bit, that would be helpful.”

“We’re not leaving the property,” Gideon said, leaning down and giving me a kiss. “But we can get Heather up to speed on the porch.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling the loss of his heat as he walked away.

“Can I ask a question?” Heather inquired as she grabbed her coat out of the foyer closet.

“Shoot,” Gideon replied.

“Why are you carrying Tim’s arm around?”

“Long story,” Gideon said with a chuckle, handing the appendage back to Tim. “We’ll explain on the porch.”

As the door closed behind them, I smiled at the ghosts sitting on my couch. “Let’s get to work.”

* * *

Pushing the Ouija board aside on the coffee table, I kept my voice even and friendly. Letting my frustration show would be rude. I was Southern. I didn’t do rude well.

In the hour we’d been trying, the Ouija board had been a dismal failure. I’d explained our other options, but the ghosts just shook their heads. The adult ghosts seemed afraid to hug me so I could speak with them more clearly. I wasn’t sure going into the minds of the children would be helpful or smart, but the way the parents protected the girls made that option a no-go as well.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “I promise.”

“Naawwwooo,” the man said, huddling with his family at the far end of the couch.

“Ssssoooorrry,” the woman said, waving her hands in distress.

“No. No, no,” I said quickly, backing away so they felt more comfortable. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry.”

What the hell was I doing? What was wrong with me? This family wasn’t ready to go anywhere. I was pushing them to talk and it was too soon. I suppose that seeing the children threw me for a loop. It was a hard and fast rule that I let my guests come to me. And I’d just broken it.

“Listen,” I said, sitting back down and putting some distance between us. Donna and Karen stayed near the little girls. “This is all on me. You’re welcome here for as long as you want to stay. There are others here as well. When you’re ready to talk, we can try again. Okay? There’s no rush.”

The man and the woman exchanged relieved glances. It made me want to punch myself in the head for not being more considerate.

“Thaauanuak yooouah,” the man said.

“Ssssoooorrry,” the woman repeated, far less frantic.

I smiled at them. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s my fault. I’m sorry for pushing.”

“Naawwwooo. Ahhhhiii ssssoooorrry,” the woman insisted.

“No, I’m…” I began, then caught myself. “Umm… do you guys happen to be from the South?”

“Yausssss,” the woman said with a sound that I recognized as a laugh. To someone else it might sound like a death rattle. However, I’d been with my squatters for a while now and knew the difference.

“Well, that explains it,” I told her with a grin. “We’re too dang polite for our own good.”

“Yausssss,” she agreed. “Thaauanuak yooouah.”

“My pleasure,” I told them. “You have free rein of the house except for my bedroom and bathroom. And I’m pretty sure my dogs are in love with your girls.”

“Quuuuuueeessshtioooonah?” the man asked. The woman trembled and wrung her hands.

“You can ask me anything you want to know,” I assured him.

“Weeeeah aaaruh deeeaaadauh?” he asked with a pained expression.

My stomach lurched, and I was sure I’d heard him wrong. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Weeeeah aaaruh deeeaaadauh?” he repeated.

This was a first for me. I was stunned and wondered if I should spell the words out so the little girls wouldn’t understand. How could they not know that they were dead? I was glad I was seated because my knees turned to jelly.

I nodded and sucked back the sob that had lodged in my throat. “Yes. You are. I’m sorry.”

“Hoooooooawah?” the woman asked.

Pressing my lips together, I glanced down at woefully under-manicured nails and carefully considered my answer. I had no clue why they were dead or how they had died. I could probably find out if I went into their minds, but under no circumstances would I push. “I don’t know,” I told them truthfully. “What I can do is get on the internet and do some research for you. I might be able to find something.”

I didn’t want to tell them I could relive their demise inside their heads. They were freaked out enough as it was.

Donna the Destroyer loped over and put her wet snout in my lap. With a slightly shaking hand, I scratched behind her ears. She looked up at me and barked twice. My perceptive Hell Hound fuzzball was telling me to pull my shit together.

“Got it,” I said, leaning down and kissing her big head. Rising, I crossed to the couch and squatted down in front of the man and woman. “Are you okay? What can I do to help you?”

“Sooookaaay,” the man said softly, putting his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Neeeeeeedah toooooa knooowah.”

“Ssssoooorrry,” the woman said, reaching out to me. “Thaauanuak yooouah.”

I took her papery hand in mine and forced a smile to my lips that I prayed didn’t look like a grimace. “No worries,” I said. “I’ll always tell you the truth.”

Donna barked again and began to turn circles. Karen enthusiastically joined in and they almost knocked me on my butt. The little girls giggled. Of course, this delighted Donna, who then decided that digging a hole in my rug would be an excellent finale to her circle dance.

“Nope,” I told her. “If you destroy my rug, you’re gonna eat it. You hear me?”

Donna barked again and began doing zoomies around the living room. Karen, not one to be left out, knocked the pile of books off the coffee table and zoomied like she’d ingested a vat of caffeine. The children squealed with laughter, and even the man and woman smiled. My dogs were the bomb—adorable, destructive and fabulous.

“Whaaaatss naaaumea?” the smallest of the two little ones asked, still giggling.

“The red fuzzy one is Donna,” I told her. “She can see you just like you can see her. The crazy black lab is Karen. Now, she can’t see you, but she hangs with Donna, so you get a twofer. Cool?”

“Yausssss!” she said, pointing at Donna, who wagged her furry tail spastically in response. “Looooovah doooogahs!”

The man and woman exchanged sad glances. It broke my heart and made me want to know their story even more, but I would wait.

“Let me walk you around the house,” I offered, standing up.

“Yausssss,” the woman said, taking the hands of the little girls. “Thaauanuak yooouah.”

The ghosts were forever a mystery to me. They felt solid for the most part to my touch. However, some could touch each other—like this family—and some couldn’t. Their entire bodies went right through objects. Figuring out the physics could take many lifetimes and I wasn’t sure the answer mattered.

“Follow me,” I said with a smile.

And they did.

* * *

Donna and Karen stayed right at the little girls’ sides. I could have sworn that Karen was aware of the children. That would be insane, but insanity was par for the course lately.

“Give me just a sec. I’m going to take a peek in here and then I’ll show you the yard,” I told my new guests outside of the bedroom where Steve and Gram were.

The family was exceedingly polite. The woman had complimented every room in the house. I couldn’t make out exactly what she said, but her intent was clear and admiring.

Cracking open the door just an inch so I didn’t alarm the family with Gram’s coma-like state, I smiled at Steve. In life, he had been so handsome—dark curly hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. He was only a little taller than my five foot ten and had a lithe body like a runner. Now, he was a mere ghostly shell of what he used to be, but I could still see his beauty. Thankfully, his speech was clear. After Clarissa had tried to banish him to the darkness, he’d been a wreck—literally falling apart. When I’d gone into his mind and relived his death, absorbing his agony, he’d healed tremendously. He was pissed as hell at me, but I would do it again.

Biting down on my lip so I didn’t cry and upset the little girls, I took in Gram’s unchanged condition. She looked tiny in the queen-size bed. Her body had grown so transparent, I could see the floral sheets underneath her. Sucking it up because it was the best plan of action, I met Steve’s hollowed-out eyes.

“Hey,” I said, softly. “Is she the same?”

“Same,” Steve said, peering at me with curiosity. “Why is your head wedged in the door?”

“New guests,” I told him. “A family.”

Steve looked down for a moment. “That’s heartbreaking,” he whispered.

I nodded. “I know. I’ll come back in a few. You’re never gonna believe what happened this morning. You’ll be proud of me.”

“I’ll be here,” he promised with a chuckle.

As I went to close the door, the little girls flew right through the wall. The parents muttered unintelligible apologies and raced in after them.

“Shit,” I muttered, following them in. I should have waited to check on Gram and Steve. This day was a hot mess and getting messier by the second.

“Hi there,” Steve said to the little girls as they stared at him in surprise. “I’m Steve.”

Without an ounce of fear, both children floated right over to Steve and crawled onto his lap. It was a beautiful sight, and my eyes welled up. My heart skipped a sad beat for missed opportunities. Steve would have been a wonderful father, but it wasn’t meant to be for us.

“Well, aren’t you two just adorable,” Steve said, looking down at the girls with a grin. “When I was alive, I was Daisy’s husband. This lovely lady is Gram.” He placed his hand gently on Gram’s cheek. “She’s sleeping. We have to be quiet so we don’t wake her up. Okay?”

“Oooookauy,” the taller of the two little ones whispered. “Deeeeaauud toowahh?”

“Yes, Gram is dead too,” Steve confirmed in a tone that made the question seem normal.

I suppose it was. My new normal was not for the weak-hearted. What surprised me was that the child was aware she was dead even though her parents weren’t.

“Umm… maybe we should—” I began, only to be cut off.

“Sssstaaaaaay heerah?” the smallest one asked hopefully.

“That’s an excellent plan,” Steve said, winking at me. “Would you like to stay and help me watch over Gram?” he asked the family.

“Yausssss,” the man said. “Iffffah oooookauy wiiiithah Dausseeeeee.”

I didn’t have to think. If Gram woke up, she’d be delighted with the little girls. Steve was brilliant and good. The new guests would be in loving hands. I grinned. “Works for me.”

“Daisy, could you change the channel to cartoons?” Steve suggested. “I’ve had enough Bob Barker to last a lifetime.”

The smallest girl bounced on his lap while her sister levitated in excitement. I wished like heck I knew their names. Maybe Steve could figure them out.

“Yausssss,” the youngest squealed as the man and woman nodded in thanks.

“Your wishes are my command,” I said, grabbing the remote and finding the cartoon channel.

“Thaauanuak yooouah,” the woman said. “Kiiiiiiaaand.”

“Correct,” Steve said, not missing a beat. “Daisy is the kindest person I know.”

“You good?” I asked Steve as the man and the woman sat on a love seat and held hands.

“Perfect,” he replied, pulling one child out of the air by her foot as she giggled. Settling both little ones on his lap, he glanced over at me. “Are you?”

“Better now,” I said, relieved that the new ghosts seemed at peace. “I’m going to check in with Gideon and the gang, then go see Missy.”

Steve nodded. “Is Missy okay? I mean, last night was one hel…eck of a ride.”

I grinned at his attempt not to swear in front of the girls. Steve wasn’t a big potty-mouthed kind of guy to start with. However, the occasional damn and hell popped out.

“She says she’s fine,” I told him, putting the remote next to the TV then giving Gram a soft kiss on her forehead. Gram had no scent anymore. The dead didn’t smell like anything. I would have given almost anything to smell her Ivory soap and dime-store perfume again. Pushing the longing away, I focused on the now. “However, I am going to make sure Missy’s not lying. It was an intense evening.”

“Go do your thing,” Steve said. “Donna, Karen and I have this covered.”

“Love you,” I said.

“Love you more,” he replied as I quietly closed the door behind me and walked away.

Seeing my dead husband holding children made my heart hurt. It was beautifully tragic. His confession of being gay after his death made our life together make so much more sense. I’d always wanted kids, but we didn’t exactly have what one would call a healthy sex life. But the past was just that—the past. I didn’t regret any decision that I’d made. Regret was a waste of time. If I hadn’t had Steve in my life, I wouldn’t have found Gideon. The fact that Steve heartily approved of Gideon made it all strangely perfect.

“Onward and upward… or something like that,” I muttered as I barreled down the stairs and onto the porch.

There was a lot to plan and do. I just hoped someone had figured it out because I sure as hell hadn’t.

Chapter Six

“We can keep guessing until the cows come home,” Heather said, pacing the porch. “It’s getting us nowhere fast.”

“Rumor has it the cows don’t like to come home,” Tim said.

“My point exactly,” Heather replied dryly. “We need to talk. All of us. Facts need to be laid out so plans can be made.”

“I agree,” Gideon said, patting the empty space beside him.

I sat down on the swing next to Gideon and listened. The porch was nice and warm even though the temperature outside was only in the high 30s. The heaters had been a gift from Candy Vargo, of all people. I was pretty sure she liked to sit outside and pick her teeth when no one was watching. She also hated being cold—hence the heaters.

“Daisy, did you mind dive?” Charlie inquired.

I shook my head. “They aren’t ready,” I said. “The family is with Gram and Steve watching cartoons. Donna and Karen are up there too.”

Charlie scratched his head and smiled. “Of all the many strange occurrences I’ve encountered in my extraordinarily long life, your way with the dead fascinates me the most. I’ve never witnessed anything like it.”

“That’s because there’s only one Daisy the Death Counselor,” Gideon announced, pulling me close. “And she’s mine.”

“You do not own me, Reaper,” I said with a laugh. “I own me. You get to play in my sandbox.”

Gideon grinned. “My bad, Counselor.”

I rolled my eyes. “Apology accepted,” I told him, then turned my attention to Tim. “Do you want me to glue your arm back on?”

“Actually, it’s already growing back. I had no clue how quickly it would regenerate since I haven’t lost a limb in a few centuries,” he informed me, quite pleased with the news. “I think I’ll bury this one in your yard.”

“Umm… no. Absolutely not,” I said in my outdoor voice. “If Donna and Karen dig up an arm six months from now, I will have to kick your ass. Not to mention, if I happen to have human company when my dogs come trotting up with a random appendage, that would suck all kinds of butt and would be very difficult to explain to the authorities.”

“I think it would be hilarious,” Candy said.

“Zip it, Vargo,” I snapped. “While my home might be a morgue of sorts, my yard is not a cemetery. No burying body parts on my property. Got it?”

“I can see how that might be awkward,” Tim agreed, tucking his severed arm into his jacket. “I’ll lay it to rest in my yard. My cats don’t dig.”

“Or you could keep it and freak people out by letting it drop off your body when delivering the mail,” Candy suggested, completely serious. “I know a few jack-knobs in town who deserve a good heart attack.”

Tim looked wildly intrigued by the horrible idea. They were like trillion-year-old children and I was their forty-year-old babysitter, for the love of everything absurd.

“That is a hard no,” I said sternly. “You will bury the arm. Period.”

Tim nodded and grinned sheepishly. “Will do. I promise.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to smile. I failed. These were now my people. They were flawed, but so was I. In the short time I’d known them, I knew they had my back as much as I had theirs. If they needed help, I would be there. And if I needed help… actually, I did need help.

“Tim,” I said. “Could you do some research for me, please?”

“On embalming and burying body parts?” he asked.

“Umm… no,” I replied, reminded of how literal Tim was. “I need you to find out how the new family of ghosts died and who they are.”

“Do you have any clue where I would start?” he asked.

“They died recently. They still have some pigment in their hair and their state of decay is very mild,” I explained as Tim pulled out a notepad and pen and began to jot down what I said. “The man and woman look around forty-ish—dark hair and dark eyes. The two little girls I’d guess to be five or six—blonde hair and blue eyes. I would think an entire family dying together would make the news somewhere.”

“You believe they’re related?” Heather asked.

I shrugged. “They behave like a family unit. The girls could be adopted. I know they’re from the South. No bodily wounds that I can see, so it couldn’t have been a car accident or anything violent.”

“They don’t know how they died?” Gideon asked.

“They didn’t know they were dead,” I replied.

Heather was shocked. “You’re joking.”

“I wish,” I said.

Everyone went silent at the tragically bizarre news—even Candy Vargo.

“They know now,” I told everyone. “I’ve haven’t had to tell a ghost they were dead before. It wasn’t fun.”

“God,” Heather muttered, leaning back on the porch railing. “How devastatingly sad.”

I nodded. There wasn’t much more to say.

After a few moments of letting the unsettling news sink in, Charlie moved the meeting back on topic. “I need to get home to June. She’s worried about me,” he said. “Gideon, I’d suggest you go to Clarence and Alana to request their presence here this evening.”

“Is that smart?” Candy asked, concerned. “Gram is here.”

Charlie paused, then nodded. “It’s safest for all of us if we’re together—strength in numbers. We can stay outside.”

“I’m going to visit Missy,” I said. “Need to see if she’s okay after last night.”

“Where is she? Home?” Gideon asked.

“Nope,” Heather volunteered. “She’s at her bookstore working. I talked to her when you guys were beating the hell out of each other this morning.”

“Good times,” Candy said.

I rolled my eyes as she pulled out a toothpick and winked at me. Candy was way past nuts. She was certifiable.

“Fine,” Gideon said, sounding all business. “Daisy is never to be left alone without one of us present. Heather will go with Daisy. I’ll go to Clarence’s house.”

“Candy and I will stay here with Gram,” Tim said, tucking his notepad back into his pocket. “I can do the research from here easily.”

“My internet is crappy,” I reminded him.

Candy snapped her fingers and a massive cell tower appeared in my front yard. “Not anymore,” she announced with a smirk.

It was taller than my house and looked like crap in my yard, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I needed information on my newly deceased friends. Maybe, I could request Candy move the tower to the backyard later. It would rock to have good internet.

“Everyone clear on the interim plan?” Charlie asked. “If anyone encounters Clarissa, call for backup immediately.”

“Clear,” Tim said, saluting Charlie. “What time shall we have the meeting this evening?”

I glanced down at my watch. It was two. “How about seven?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gideon said, rising from the swing. “Seven it is.”

In a flash of light, Gideon and Charlie disappeared.

I squinted at the spot where Gideon stood only seconds ago. “I will never get used to that,” I muttered.

Heather laughed. “You want me to drive?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said. “Today has kind of worn me out. Right now, I just want to sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Don’t get your ass too comfortable,” Candy Vargo warned as she and Tim walked into my house. “That kinda thinkin’ can get you six feet under, nardpocket.”

“Wait,” I insisted, feeling wonky. I decided to ignore that she’d called me a testicle pouch—it could have been worse. “Can you see that in my future?” She was Fate after all.

“Not how it works. Futures are subject to change on a damn dime,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t pay no attention to that crap. Free will and all that shit makes it a waste of time. Just watch your back.”

On those cryptic words, the door slammed shut behind Candy Vargo.

Walking around the porch, I turned off the heaters and sighed. “Well, that was a lovely parting shot.”

“Ignore her,” Heather advised. “It’s common sense to watch our backs. It’s the way we live.”

The Immortal lifestyle was alarmingly complicated… and deadly.

“You ready?” Heather asked.

“Beyond,” I replied, following her across the yard to her newly repaired car. “I could use a little break from the crazy.”

“Embrace the crazy,” Heather said, getting into the car. “It’s easier.”

“Trying,” I told her. “But a little normal would sure be nice.”

Beware of what you wish for.

It rarely comes true.

Chapter Seven

“Oh my God in a chartreuse jock strap! Heather! Daisy!” Jennifer yelled from across Main Street. “You two gals are a sight for sore eyes.”

“Well, damn. This is a bit inconvenient,” Heather mumbled as she smiled and waved at our good buddy Jennifer, who was hopping around in excitement like her pants were on fire.

“Why isn’t she at the office?” I asked.

“Daisy, it’s Saturday,” Heather reminded me.

“Crap, you’re right.” Keeping track of the days wasn’t high on the priority list.

“Here’s the plan,” Heather said. “I’ll keep Jennifer busy outside so you can talk privately with Missy in the shop. I’ll be able to see you the entire time.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, then gasped as our flighty friend narrowly missed getting mowed down by a trio of motorcycles as she darted across the road.

“Watch where you’re goin’!” she shouted at the bikers as they sped away. “Damn kids, they never look for spicy gals of a certain age jogging through oncoming traffic—should be a dang law for that.”

Heather raised a brow—which Jennifer couldn’t do since she’d been Botoxicated recently. “Pretty sure it was the gal pal of Sheriff Dip Doody who just broke the law, not the bikers.”

Jennifer grinned from ear to ear—kind of. The Botox limited her facial expressions, but she was thrilled with the frozen results. My beautiful little buddy was sixty-five and had sworn off men after her fifth divorce, until Sheriff Dip Doody fell into her life. She flat-out refused to marry him since she was head over heels in love with the unfortunately named lawman. Jennifer was sure that marriage was the kiss of death for love—or for her it was.

“Make sure you tell Dip what I did and exaggerate the hell out of it,” Jennifer begged with a silly little shimmy. “I just love it when he puts the cuffs on me.”

“TMI,” I shot back with a pained laugh and a groan.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, slipping out of her coat and handing it to Heather. “And just so you know, June and I have the office under control. If you hear about a flood that came through the ceiling from the upstairs bathroom, ignore it—all bullcrap and lies.”

Heather had recently opened a law firm and had hired June, Jennifer and me to work as her paralegals. Our salary and benefits were ridiculously good, but that was how Heather rolled. She was generous to a fault with those she loved. I’d barely been to work since Heather had started up the practice. However, that was cool with my boss, aka my secret sister. Considering she knew exactly what was going on meant that I still had a day job when the shitshow was over… as long as I made it through the shitshow in one piece.

Apparently, Jennifer had been going into the office regularly. She was known—in her own mind—for her plumbing skills. She had none. However, she was always trying to save everyone a dime by extending an unwanted, unskilled yet loving hand.

Heather leaned forward with a wince and glanced down the street at the building she’d purchased to house the law firm. “Well, it didn’t float away,” she said, shaking her head.

“And it won’t while I’m on the job. I’ll keep that building shipshape,” Jennifer promised. “Question. Do I look puffy to you?”

“Umm… no,” I said carefully. “Are you supposed to look puffy?”

“Nope,” she said. “I’m using a new product under my eyes. It’s supposed to suck the water out of your face the same way a diaper sucks up peepee.”

“I’m kind of speechless,” I said, glancing over at Heather, who just rolled her eyes. “Not sure how to react to that.”

“Jennifer,” Heather said, staying diplomatic. “Your body needs water. Tell me you’re not using something like slush powder on your face for the love of everything stupid.”

“I’ll take the fifth on that one,” Jennifer said.

“What the heck is slush powder?” I asked, not following what was going down.

Heather eyed Jennifer with disbelief. “It’s the super-absorbent material—polyacrylate—used in baby diapers. It can absorb four hundred times or more of its own weight in water. And it’s not going to work in your face, Jennifer.”

“Roger that,” Jennifer said.

“I’m serious,” Heather insisted. “Get off the damn internet. You’re going to pickle yourself with all the crap you do.”

Jennifer just cackled like a loon. “Anyhoo, on to the next subject. I need to show you gals something.”

As Jennifer unzipped her pants, pulling them partially down, I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my shriek of laughter. Our tiny Georgia town was filled with Nosy Noras. If Jennifer mooned us on Main Street it would be the latest gossip within the hour.

“Umm… not sure I want to buy what you’re selling,” Heather said, trying to cover Jennifer with her coat.

“No, seriously,” Jennifer insisted, showing us the curved edge of a long scar right above her pubic region. “Does that bother you as a lesbian?”

Heather stood there with her mouth open. She wasn’t sure if she’d just been insulted or complimented. “Is there a reason my sexual orientation has come into play while you’re stripping on Main Street?” Heather asked.

“Well, seeing as how you like girls, you’re more like a guy in that department. You feel me?” Jennifer explained, as if what she said had sound logic.

“I’d rather not,” Heather shot back. “But as far as finding a scar offensive, I will go on record and say no.”

“That is fandamntastic news,” Jennifer shouted, pulling her pants back up. “I’ve been banging Dip in the dark because of that tummy tuck scar.”

“You are a font of horrifying information today,” Heather said. “However, I do want to chat about work. You have a minute?”

“Yep, and I was wondering if I could sue,” Jennifer said, taking her coat from Heather and putting it back on.

“Sue who?” I asked, confused.

“The plumber,” Jennifer said. “He didn’t know his ass from his elbow. I had to fix everything after he left.”

“Let’s table that conversation for another time,” Heather said, pressing the bridge of her nose. “I have a new case and I need your input.”

“On the law?” Jennifer asked, perplexed.

“Nope. On plastic surgery and fillers,” Heather replied, leading Jennifer to the bench in front of Missy’s bookstore.

Jennifer smiled. Since her mouth barely moved, it was kind of strange to look at. “I’m your expert,” she announced with pride. “I’ve had just about everything done except vaginoplasty… but I have that one on my to-do list.”

Heather let her head fall back with a thud on the glass window of the shop. “Jennifer, you have to stop all that shit. Even Dip thinks you’re perfect without it. If you won’t believe us, believe him. And I wouldn’t let anyone operate on my vagina. What if you lost all feeling down there?”

“That would suck,” Jennifer said with a shudder. “And, for your information, I don’t do my procedures for Dip. I do them for me. However, I have now firmly decided to leave my va-jay-jay alone. It works just fine. I’ll just up my daily Kegel count.”

“Awesome,” I told her as I kissed the top of her head.

“Getting my silver wisdom sparkles dyed in the morning,” she informed us with a giggle. “I’m thinking of going hot pink.”

“Do it,” I said with a laugh. “I’m going to slip inside and say hi to Missy. I’ll be back out in a few.”

“Girls’ lunch tomorrow plus Tim. Your house,” Jennifer said. “Not takin’ no for an answer. June has been lonely with Charlie gone so much and I have a new trivia list. I’m pretty sure I can kick Tim’s ass this time.”

“Well, I’m not sure—” I began, only to be steamrolled by one of my dearest friends.

“We’ll bring the food. June will make cookies. All you have to do is sit there and try not to upchuck when Tim and I go for it,” Jennifer insisted.

“Umm…” There were deadly games going on. Bringing June and Jennifer into the middle of them was a bad plan.

“Great,” Heather said before I could figure out a legit excuse to get out of it. “It’s a date.”

I gave Heather a worried glance, but she just shrugged. When Jennifer said she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, she meant it. Missing polite social cues was one of Jenn’s weaknesses, along with her plumbing skills. Also, what Jennifer had shared about June made me feel awful. I’d been so consumed with the explosion that had become my life, I’d blown off my friends who needed me.

“Be out in a sec,” I said, rushing into the shop before Jennifer came up with another brilliant idea.

“Duuuude,” Missy said, coming out from behind the corner with a huge grin.

Today my bestie since childhood wore a deep purple flowing polka dot top with striped pink and orange pants. She finished it off with combat boots. Her dark curly hair was in tons of tiny braids tied off with shimmering elastics. It was flat-out perfect. I would look like a clown in the outfit, but Missy could make pretty much anything work and look fabulous. She’d named her style Boho-chic slash artsy-fartsy. Basically, she wore whatever was clean. At forty-two, she was killing it. And her bookshop was as eclectic as she was.

My smile was wider than Missy’s. She might be able to fake it on the phone, but I could read her like a book in person. She was definitely okay. However, my smile froze on my lips as I looked down at the floor.

There were footprints everywhere—slightly faded, but definitely there. And not the human kind. They were an iridescent silver with flecks of different colors in them.

“Was Clarissa in here?” I asked tersely.

“Hell to the no,” Missy said, glancing around in alarm. “Did you see her?”

“No,” I said, squatting down and examining the sparkles. “What do you see when you look at the floor?”

“Umm… a dusty floor that I should have swept this morning?” Missy guessed, picking up on my tension and lowering her voice.

“You don’t see the fading glitter?” I whispered.

Missy shook her head. “I don’t.”

I closed my eyes, then opened them. It was still there. What I didn’t know was how many Immortals made them or if it was just one. It was a hot freaking mess. I wanted to kick my own butt for not asking Charlie what color shadow he saw when he sensed Clarissa’s footprint.

Logic. I needed to be logical like a cop. I wasn’t a cop. I was a paralegal who counseled the dead, but I was also a smart woman.

“Has the shop been busy today?” I asked, wondering if I should call Heather inside. Glancing out the window, I saw Heather and Jennifer deep in conversation. Freaking Jennifer out wouldn’t be helpful. Missy and I were the only two in the shop right now and we needed to be able to speak freely.

“It was busier than usual,” Missy told me, still staring at the floor, trying to see what I saw. “Mostly locals, but a few newbies.”

“Newbies?” I asked. Could Clarissa disguise herself enough for Missy not to recognize her? We’d known Clarissa for years and had also hated her for years. We referred to her as Satan reincarnated. Who knew we were so correct in our assessment?

“Two couples,” she said. “At least I thought they were couples—not sure about that. They looked an awful lot like each other.”

“Describe,” I said, feeling a little woozy. The thought of Clarissa calling in backup to help her destroy me was a very bad development.

“Pleasant. Attractive,” Missy said, standing up and moving back behind the counter. “Ordered coffee, but didn’t purchase any books. Paid cash I think.” She checked her computer receipts. “Yep. Cash. No credit card receipt. No names.”

“Eye color?” I asked. Angels had gold eyes. I was only half Angel and my eyes were a sparkling gold. The unfortunate development had occurred after I’d gone into Steve’s mind. I had to wear contacts to cover the unusual color.

She pulled on a braid. “Don’t recall. Why? You think they were Immortals?”

I nodded and noticed a small book on the counter with a hand-sewn leather spine. “What is that?”

Missy looked down and squinted at it. “I don’t know. It’s not part of my stock. The newbies were the last people in here. Maybe they left it.”

There were very few accidents in my life lately. I wasn’t going to look at anything as random. If the newbies had left the book, they meant to leave it. Picking it up, I opened the palm-sized leather volume and squinted at the illegible script.

“What language is this?” I asked, pushing the book across the counter to her.

“Well, hell,” she muttered. “Not sure I… wait.” Missy darted to the storeroom at the back of the shop, then zipped back to the counter. She placed another book next to the small one. “I’ll be damned. I think it’s Sumerian.”

“Shit,” I hissed and paged through the mystery book. “Not good. I’ll have to get Gideon or my dad to explain this chapter on the Hierarchy of the Blessed and the Damned.”

Missy paled and stared at me like I’d grown another head. Quickly touching my shoulder to make sure I hadn’t, I stared right back at her. With everything that was happening, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if I’d sprouted a new head. “What?” I asked, growing uncomfortable.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I would have to get Gideon or my dad to translate the chapter on the Hierarchy of the— Shit,” I gasped out. “I read that.”

“You read a dead language that you don’t speak,” Missy pointed out. “All of that text looks like gibberish to me. Can you make out more?”

Scanning the book, I realized random words popped out—not sentences, only words.

“Kind of,” I whispered.

“That’s all kinds of impressive,” Missy said.

“Or all kinds of farked up,” I said flatly. I had no clue what the new gift meant. I hadn’t done a mind dive lately. There was no reason I should be able to read Sumerian. “I’ll talk to Gideon about it.”

Missy nodded, walked over to the coffee station and made me an iced coffee with an obnoxiously large squirt of chocolate syrup. “Here. You need this.”

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” I asked, accepting the cup gratefully.

“Not yet,” she said with a laugh. “Why are Heather and Jennifer outside? It’s cold.”

“Heather’s distracting Jennifer so we can talk privately.”

“Well, we’re not exactly alone,” she said, pointing behind me.

The calm yet curious tone of her voice assured me it wasn’t Clarissa standing behind me. However, I hadn’t seen anyone walk into the shop. Turning around, I almost dropped my coffee, which would have been a tragedy since it was perfection.

Of all the people I thought I might see, I would never have guessed who it actually was. My newest ghostly guests had followed me. The polite family floated a few feet off the ground and waved shyly.

“Umm… is everything okay at home?” I asked, worried that something might have happened to Gram or Steve. However, Tim and Candy Vargo were killing machines. In my heart, I knew Gram and Steve were safe.

“Allllllah fiiiiiineeeahe,” the man said.

“Ssssoooorrry, Dausseeeeee,” the woman said, realizing by my shocked expression they might have broken a few rules by following me.

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s all good. I’m happy to have you here.”

“Ssssoooookaaayah?” the man asked.

“Yes,” I assured him. “It is totally okay. This is Missy, my best friend since I was a little girl. Missy, these are my new houseguests.”

“Hi there.” Missy greeted the ghosts as if they were human customers. “Welcome to my shop.”

“Thaauanuak yooouah,” the older of the children said with a wave.

“Oh my goodness,” Missy said, squatting down in front of the ghostly little girls. “Do you know what I have hidden in the back corner of the store?”

“Naawwwooo,” the smaller one said with a smile. “Aaaaaah kiiiittahy?”

“Good guess,” Missy said with a wink. “No kitties, but I have books on kitties and puppies and some other fun things. Would you like to visit the children’s corner?”

The girls looked up at their parents for permission. The woman smiled and nodded.

“Thaauanuak yooouah, Miiiiiisah,” the woman said gratefully.

“No problem at all,” Missy replied. “Do you have names?”

I stood in the middle of the shop feeling like a big dummy. Why hadn’t I asked their names? In my defense, I was worried about pushing for anything after I’d upset them.

“Mmmemmaaah,” the smallest girl said.

“Emma?” Missy clarified.

She nodded and giggled.

“That is a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” Missy told her. “And you?”

“Sooooooofeeeeeeah,” the other answered.

“Sophia?” Missy asked and got another delighted giggle. “Gorgeous. Well, Emma and Sophia, how about I set you up in the Book Nook?”

“Yausssss,” they squealed and darted after Missy as she raced them to the back of the shop.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask your names,” I told the man and the woman. “I think I was thrown that you were unaware you had passed on. It’s no excuse and I apologize.”

“Naawwwooo ssssoooorrry,” the woman said, patting my head. “Ahunnnnaaah.”

“Miiiiekeeah,” the man added.

I grinned. “Let’s start again, shall we? I’m Daisy. It’s lovely to meet you, Anna and Mike.”

“Looooveahly toooooah meeeeeetee,” Anna said. “Looooookah rooouuundah?”

“Definitely. Browse the shelves,” I said. “Missy has wonderful and rare books.”

“Also, bestsellers,” Missy called out from the back.

I laughed. “Also, bestsellers,” I added. “If you see something you’d like, I would be happy to buy it for you.”

“Nope,” Missy said, rejoining me. “Pick out anything. It’s on the house.”

“Thaauanuak yooouah,” Anna said, floating away with Mike in excitement.

After a long moment, I heard Missy sigh. “A family,” she whispered. “Breaks my heart.”

“With you on that,” I said quietly. “They’re not comfortable with me mind diving, so I don’t know how they died or how I can help them, yet. I’m sure they’ll tell me when they’re ready.”

The sound of the puppets from Sesame Street singing floated on the air. Emma and Sophia’s laughter mixed with Cookie Monster and Big Bird. As sad as their situation was, they were happy right now.

“Missy, you’re a goddess.”

“Takes one to know one, my friend,” she replied. “Want another coffee?”

Looking down at my empty cup, I grinned. “Umm… yes. Yes, I do.”

“I’ll take one,” a voice hissed. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my stomach lurched. “Black. No sugar. I want it bitter. Just. Like. Me.”

I whipped around. I heard the crash of shattering glass behind me but ignored it. I had to keep my eyes on the enemy. Missy had clearly dropped the coffeepot. Shards of glass scattered across the floor. That was nothing compared to the abomination who’d just arrived. My heart pounded like a bomb was about to go off in my chest. Heather would surely be in here in seconds.

But until then, I had to shove down my panic and stay cool as a cucumber to keep Missy safe.

“Wonderful to see you, Daisy,” Clarissa gushed, staring at the book clutched in my hands.

“Horrifying to see you,” I shot back, tucking the book into my pocket. My Southern roots be damned. Clarissa expected me to be weak. She was going to be disappointed.

“Don’t be rude,” she snapped, glancing around the shop in curiosity. She stared at the floor for a long moment with a blank expression on her face.

Did she see the footprints? I was unclear how Clarissa detected the trails left by Immortals. Each had been different so far.

“So sorry,” I said, doing my best to sound contrite. Hard but doable. My Southern DNA ran deep. “I forgot my manners.” Maybe being a badass was the wrong way to go. Missy was at risk and that was unacceptable.

Don’t risk Missy. Logic. Think logically. Nothing was logical as I’d once understood the definition of the word, but times changed and I was changing with them. No choice.

“Much better,” Clarissa said, walking around and knocking books off the shelves. “That’s the spineless Daisy I remember so fondly.”

I had no freaking clue if what I was about to try would work, but watching Clarissa kill Missy was out of the question. Clarissa might end me, but I would go out fighting. Missy didn’t stand a chance.

Picturing Missy sitting in my living room, wrapped up in an afghan sitting in front of a roaring fire, I slashed my hand through the air.

With a squeak and a whoosh of jasmine-scented air, Missy disappeared. I sure as hell hoped I’d actually sent her to my house. I’d find that out if I lived through the next few minutes.

“Ooohhhhhh, the little Death Counselor has some game,” Clarissa said in a tone so thick with sarcasm, you could cut it with a knife.

The Angel of Mercy’s appearance was abysmal. She looked unhinged—she was unhinged. Her low-cut dress was ill-fitted and dirty. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. The heel of her stiletto had snapped off. In the past, she’d always been completely groomed from her polished toenails to the top of her dyed-red head. Clarissa had turned into a deadly and desperate hot mess.

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and refused to take the bait. I simply followed Gideon’s directions from earlier—“there is more power in stillness than in movement. Aggression should be used only when a result can be produced. Words can bite far worse than a fist in certain situations. Use them and use them wisely.”

My inaction threw Clarissa off, but her narcissism knew no bounds. No one was as powerful as she was… or so she thought. Hell, I wasn’t as powerful as she was, but I wasn’t defenseless either.

“Does the kiiiittahy have your tongue?” she asked so sweetly it made my insides roil in terror.

How long had she been here? How much had she heard? Were my ghosts safe from her? The unknown was as frightening as the abomination who stood five feet from me.

“Nope,” I said. “Tongue is fine. My eyes are wildly offended at the sight of you, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Shit. My mouth was going to get me killed.

Why hadn’t Heather come in yet? Had she not noticed that the demented Angel had shown up?

As Clarissa paced back and forth, I focused on her feet. Her footprint was silver flecked with yellow. It didn’t match any of the footprints in the shop. Other Immortals had definitely been here, but not Clarissa. Having no clue if that was good or bad, I pushed the thoughts away and stayed in the present. Getting killed for being distracted wasn’t on my agenda for today.

“Since you like games, I thought we could play a few,” Clarissa purred. “Would you like that, Daisy?”

“What I’d like would not make you happy,” I replied coldly, noticing the pale blue haze surrounding us with a sinking stomach.

Clarissa had put up a barrier. Heather hadn’t come in because she couldn’t see what was happening. Could I break it? I’d broken one she’d made before. Should I expend the energy to break the barrier if I might need the energy to save my own ass?

Decisions sucked—especially life-and-death ones.

Clarissa made herself comfortable on the couch, crossed her long legs and smiled. It was a brittle smile that came nowhere near reaching her dead-looking eyes. Wiggling her fingers, she made the floor-to-ceiling shelf behind me collapse. I dodged getting crushed by half a second. She applauded my speed. The destruction was a warmup. If she wanted me dead, she would have done something far more violent.

“I would love to kill you,” she said calmly. “However, it doesn’t play into my long game. You have something that belongs to me. If I incinerate you into ash, I won’t win. I like to win. Do you see the conundrum I’m having?”

The Angel of Mercy was insane and unpredictable, which made her incredibly dangerous. Her behavior was batshit crazy. If I could end her right now, the story of my life would have a happily ever after. But happy endings were hard to come by.

Picturing a solid iron cell with Clarissa trapped inside, I took a deep breath. Gideon, Charlie and Tim were as strong as Clarissa and it had snared them. She could probably get out of it, but I prayed that the shock of being confined would throw her off. If I could trap her, it might buy me the time to break the barrier and get Heather—even a minute would help. Or it could blow up in my face. The one thing I was sure of was that doing nothing wouldn’t end well—for me.

“I asked if you could understand my conundrum,” Clarissa ground out through clenched teeth.

“I heard you,” I replied.

The next moment in time defied all reality.

It started high and ended low.

Son of a bitch.

Chapter Eight

With a scream from the darkest depths of my soul, I slashed my arms through the air and aimed my power at Clarissa. Her expression of utter disbelief was the last thing I saw before she was incased completely in iron.

Her roar of fury hurt my ears so badly, I thought I might have gone deaf.

“Home,” I snapped to the ghost family. “Go home. NOW.”

Anna, Mike, Emma and Sophia darted around the bookshop in a state of abject terror. They smashed against walls of the barrier and shrieked almost as loudly as Clarissa had. Slashing my hand through the air once again, I tried to break the barrier.

No luck.

“Crap,” I muttered, touching the barrier and testing the strength. It felt liquid to my touch.

There had to be more than one way to skin a cat—not that I would ever in my life actually skin a cat—but magic couldn’t be finite. Everyone was different—did things in their own individual ways. Charlie would do something different than Gideon. Candy’s power was dissimilar to Tim’s. While an outcome could be the same, the method could be unique.

Right?

Hell, I hoped so.

“Have to absorb the water. Make it go away,” I muttered with a laugh that sounded tinny and strange. “Here goes nothing.”

Picturing mounds of a specific object, I hoped that the science lesson I’d learned twenty minutes ago would work. If not, and I lived to explain what I’d done, it would be the most mortifying minutes of my life. The plan was logical in a most illogical way. However, I was a forty-year-old going up against an Immortal who had thousands of years of experience. If my technique was lacking, did it really matter if the goal was accomplished?

“No. Technique is irrelevant. A win is a win no matter how damn stupid,” I whispered, closing my eyes and grimacing. “DIAPERS, COME TO ME!”

In a flash of lightning I was unaware I could produce, hundreds of disposable baby diapers descended from the ceiling. They were open, just as I had imagined them and they clung to the liquid barrier. The family of ghosts were so shocked by the turn of events, they stopped shrieking and watched in silence.

“Hide,” I insisted. “Go. Hide now.”

Thankfully, they did as told. It was an insane relief. However, the fact that the freaking diapers were absorbing the water was a damned miracle. The method was cringe-worthy, but the effect was breathtakingly beautiful. One diaper would have been useless. But four thousand? Priceless.

As the barrier thinned, I slashed my arm through the air again and it fell into a powdery mist. My heart raced and my skin tingled like it was going to burst into flame. Clarissa was still trapped and cursing me, but I was unsure how much longer the cage would hold her.

“Heather,” I whispered. “Have to get Heather.”

Sprinting out of the shop faster than I’d ever moved, I almost ran right into the oncoming traffic. Lying wasn’t my forte. I was shitty at it, but living to see tomorrow was more important.

“Jennifer,” I choked out. “For some reason the plumber had my number as a contact for the law firm. Said all the pipes in the entire building are leaking. He’s on his way there now. He needs your help.”

“What?” Jennifer shouted, jumping to her feet. “Of course he does. I know more about plumbing than that old fart does.”

Without another word, Jennifer ran down the street like she was headed to a fifty-percent-off sale for Botox at her plastic surgeon. I’d never seen her move so fast.

“Daisy,” Heather said, grabbing me to stop my violent trembling. “Talk.”

“No flood. Lied to Jennifer.”

“Got that. You’re a shitty liar,” she said. “You wanted her to leave.”

“Clarissa,” I choked out.

“Where?” Heather growled, sounding scarier than I’d ever heard her.

“Bookstore.”

In less than three seconds we were both back inside. If Heather thought the thousands of water-logged diapers were odd, she didn’t say a word.

It was eerily quiet. Silently pointing at the five-foot-by-five-foot solid iron cage, I mouthed to her that Clarissa was inside. She tossed me her cell phone and didn’t have to tell me what to do. I texted Gideon and Charlie, then slipped her phone into my pocket.

It took them less time to materialize in the shop than it took a heart to pound out a beat. Neither of the men said a word. My ears buzzed, and I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Gideon’s eyes were sparkling blood red. Charlie’s eyes blazed silver and his hands sparked ominously.

However, it was Heather who threw me for a loop.

I’d never seen her in action. Her skin literally danced with shimmering tattoos—every color of the rainbow. They morphed and traveled over her skin at a speed that made me dizzy. It was macabre and gorgeous.

“On three,” Gideon commanded. “One. Two. Three.”

Without realizing I was doing it, I joined the tiny army and raised my hands over my head. Aiming all of what I had left inside of me at the cage, I grunted and slashed my arms in a downward motion. Lightning and magic hit the small prison from every single side. I was shocked the building didn’t blow up.

The metal cage came apart with a grinding, high-pitched scream and fell to the ground in four solid pieces.

It was empty.

“No,” I cried out, unable to process what I was seeing. “She was inside. I put her inside.”

“She escaped,” Charlie said flatly, glancing around at the diapers in confusion. “She’s like Houdini.”

“How?” I asked. “It was still in one piece. She didn’t bust out. We would have been able to tell.”

“She transported,” Heather said woodenly, then glanced around the store frantically. “Where is Missy?”

“At my house,” I said. “I hope.”

Gideon looked at me, perplexed. “You hope?”

“I sent her there when Clarissa arrived,” I whispered. “I couldn’t risk her.”

“You transported her?” Charlie asked, shocked.

I nodded. “I didn’t want Clarissa to harm her.”

“But you might have,” Heather said tightly, holding her hand out for her phone. “Give me your landline number.”

I did. Handing the cell phone over, I didn’t even try to hold back my tears. If I’d hurt Missy by trying to save her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I was playing with fire. I had no real clue what I could and couldn’t do, and I had experimented on one of the people I loved the most. I felt like more of a monster than Clarissa. The intent didn’t matter if the outcome was devastating.

Heather called my house with trembling hands. I held my breath and prayed hard to the light. While I still wasn’t sure about God, I knew that the light was pure goodness.

“You’re safe?” Heather choked out, shaking like a leaf. “In one piece?”

I could hear Missy’s voice at the other end of the call. She was fine and clearly at my house. My relief was so visceral, my knees gave out, and I landed in a pile of squishy diapers.

“We need to get back to Daisy’s house,” Heather said, unable to bring herself to look at me.

I didn’t blame her. She loved Missy the same way I loved Gideon.

“Ease up, Heather,” Gideon ground out in a chilling tone. “If you were by Daisy’s side, where you were supposed to fucking be, none of this would have happened. If Daisy hadn’t done what she did, Missy would be dead. Period. If you want to be angry, be angry with yourself for your utter failure. Not Daisy.”

Heather nodded in defeat—clearly chastised and devastated. “Daisy, I’m… I don’t even know what I am. I could have lost two of the women I love the most because I fucked up. I…”

Her voice broke and my heart hurt—for her and for me.

“I did what I thought was right. I went on instinct,” I whispered. “Missy didn’t stand a chance and I realized Clarissa had put up a barrier. You couldn’t see us.”

Heather’s chin dropped to her chest and she pulled on her short hair. “You saved Missy’s life and could have lost yours.” Heather said. “Sorry is… it’s inadequate.”

“Apology accepted,” I said with a small, exhausted smile. “I mean that.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Heather said hollowly.

“Correct,” Gideon snapped at Heather, then turned his sparkling blood-red gaze on me. “Why didn’t you transport yourself out as well?”

“That never even crossed my mind,” I told him. “I had a chance to destroy her. I took it. And my ghosts were here.”

“Your ghosts?” Charlie asked, glancing around.

As if on cue, the world kept tilting off its axis. The terrified screams of the little girls and the two cracks of lightning were not welcome or expected. But then, very little was expected at this point.

“Oh my God. My ghosts,” I choked out. “Clarissa is still here!”

I sprinted to the back of the shop. Gideon, Charlie and Heather were right on my heels as I skidded to a stop. An inhuman sound left my throat.

Emma and Sophia held each other and howled like tiny dying animals. Not a trace of Anna or Mike. The girls were traumatized and convulsing in grief.

“Find Clarissa,” Gideon ground out.

Heather and Charlie immediately cased the store.

“She’s gone,” Charlie called out.

Dropping to my knees and wrapping my arms around the children, I tried to comfort them with loving words. It wasn’t working. So, I simply held and rocked them.

After the better part of an hour, they calmed. But they were shells of who they had been.

Gideon squatted down beside me and wiped away my tears. “There were more?”

I nodded. The tiny ghosts had fallen asleep in my arms. “Anna and Mike,” I whispered.

“The parents?” he asked.

I nodded. “She must have taken them. Clarissa was here the whole time,” I said woodenly, then noticed the two mounds of ash to the right of where I sat.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the piles. I carefully laid the sleeping girls on the couch in the destroyed Book Nook. Crawling over to the ashes, I grabbed a kitten-covered book bag and gently scooped up the remains and put them inside.

“Is it possible to destroy a ghost?” I asked.

“It is,” Gideon said, sounding older than time. “It’s a crime punishable by execution.”

“Is there a chance that she took their souls and left with them?” I knew it was a long shot, but it was still a shot.

“It’s possible, but—” Gideon began.

“Stop,” I said more harshly than intended. “I already know what you’re going to say. I’d prefer you stop at the word possible.”

Gideon paused for a long moment. “It’s possible.”

I nodded and got to my feet. Securing the bag over my shoulder, I gathered the sleeping children in my arms. I walked back to the front of the store, flipped the Open sign to Closed and locked the door. “Let’s go home. I have to do something important.”

“May I ask what you have planned?” Charlie inquired, waving his hand and restoring the shop. All traces of destruction and death were gone.

“I’m going to mind dive. I need my mother and father, please,” I said, going on autopilot.

“As you wish,” Charlie said.

In a flash, we were home.

And now the work began.

Chapter Nine

The girls were still asleep. I’d put them in my bedroom with Donna and Karen standing guard. Again, I had an uncanny feeling that my furry goofball Karen was aware of the ghosts. I’d test the theory another time. Right now, there were far more pressing issues.

Gram’s condition was the same. Steve was devastated for the children over what had happened and promised to float back and forth between the bedrooms to check on them.

The porch was a little crowded, but that was simply the way it had to be. If Gram woke up and saw or heard my mother, it would be horrible. After all that had happened today, I wasn’t taking any more risks.

“Did Sophia and Emma see what happened to their parents?” Missy asked.

I nodded jerkily. What I wanted to do was scream, but I was kind of running the show at this point. Troops weren’t going to get behind a general who was losing her shit. “They saw something—not sure how much—and that’s what I need to find out.”

Heather and Missy sat together on the swing. Missy had tackle-hugged me when we got back. She was ecstatically furious at me and told me she loved me so many times, I lost count. Heather had watched the exchange with so much pain and guilt in her expression, I’d yanked her into the hug fest.

If I was going to forgive myself for using my power without full knowledge, Heather was going to have to forgive herself as well. I’d never had a sibling until now. Siblings fought occasionally. Hopefully, our future fights would be far more mundane and less life-threatening

Several ghosts floated around and observed the gathering. They were a motley crew. None of them seemed in a hurry to move on and I enjoyed having them. There was one old gal I called the Tasmanian Devil. She zipped around like a tornado. Her favorite game was hiding in drawers and popping out to scare the hell out of me. I’d turned the tables on her and pretended like she’d given me a heart attack. The expression on her decaying face was priceless when she’d thought she’d offed me. She’d backed off after that.

A few of my deceased squatters were missing arms and legs. I would need to have a superglue party soon. I was thankful I didn’t have a houseful right now—only twelve. Knowing they could be destroyed didn’t sit well with me. However, I had an unconventional plan to solve the issue.

Charlie and Gideon stood on the far side of the porch. Their trust in me was humbling and a little intimidating. The combined age of the people on my porch was hard to comprehend. Candy sat on the steps and made a toothpick tower. She hadn’t put one in her mouth, but that would follow soon enough. Habits were hard to break.

My mother and father stood by the front door. I wished with all my heart that things were different and I could spend time getting to know my mother. In my soul I did know her, but because of Clarissa, we’d missed out on thirty-five years.

Reminiscing about what could have been was a waste of time. Dealing with what was in front of me was what I needed to pay attention to. I’d only shared part of my plan with Charlie in the store. The second half was sure to create pushback, but I didn’t care. Doing what was necessary to take care of people was second nature. Sometimes I went too far, but it was all from a loving place.

“Tell me what you found out, please,” I said to Tim, whose arm had completely grown back, much to my open-mouthed shock. He sat on a deck chair near Candy, holding his notepad.

“They were from North Georgia,” Tim said, reading from his notes. “Mike and Anna Walton. The girls were foster children—sisters. Emma and Sophia Martin. Six and seven, respectively.”

“Is there more?” I asked, pacing the porch and taking in the information while trying not to connect to it. If I could behave more dispassionately, I would be able to hold it together better.

I failed. Swiping a tear from my eye, I continued to pace and bumped right into Gideon’s broad chest. He took my hand in his and pulled me into his warm embrace. His strength and love anchored me.

“There is more,” Tim said. “Cause of death was reported to be carbon monoxide poisoning from a new home they purchased. All four died in their sleep. Tragic.”

“That’s why they didn’t know they were dead,” I whispered.

“They didn’t know?” my mother asked as her ghostly hands fluttered to her chest.

“No, I had to tell them.”

She floated over to me and settled her body close to mine. It felt like home.

Tim was correct in his assessment. The entire story was tragic and the present was equally as sad. “Did the girls have any other family members?” I asked.

Tim shook his head. “Not living. From what I could dig up, it doesn’t look like they had a very good beginning.”

“How long were they with Anna and Mike?” Heather inquired.

“Nine months,” he replied. “They were in the process of adoption.”

“That was on the internet?” I asked, surprised.

“Nope,” Candy said. “I hacked into the Georgia foster care system data bank. Some of the stuff I read made me wanna fucking kill people.”

Tim patted her on the head. “Candy Vargo has applied to be a foster parent. I’m quite proud of her.”

“Candy did what?” I wasn’t sure how to react. On the one hand, it was a beautiful gesture. On the other, she was a violent, profane hot mess. She wasn’t what I imagining as a stable mother figure.

“Applied to be a foster parent, buttwad,” she confirmed. “You need to get your hearin’ checked.”

“Probably,” I said, thinking it would be smarter to get my mental state checked. “You think you can handle that?”

“Know I can,” she huffed, raising an insulted brow. “Used to run an orphanage about seventy years ago. Those fucking kids loved me—never went hungry. I made sure all of them went to school and felt important. Taught all the girls how to throw a sucker punch.”

“Candy Vargo created scholarships and put many through college,” Tim announced, bragging on her. “I do believe she still funds the scholarships to this day.”

“Shut your damn trap, Tim,” Candy growled. “That ain’t nobody’s business but mine.”

“Whoopsie-doodle. My bad,” Tim said, making the international zip-the-lip motion.

Candy flipped him off and continued. “And… I might have taken a little retribution on the bastards who hurt my kids.”

“Define retribution,” Missy said, wincing.

“Use your imagination,” Candy said with a grunt of laughter.

“The phrase ‘Karma is a bitch’ comes to mind,” Tim said, giving Candy a thumbs up.

Candy cackled and slapped Tim a high-five. “Still keep track of some of those rug rats. All in their eighties and nineties now, but they turned out real good.”

“You actually see them? In person?” Heather asked.

“Yep,” Candy said. “Back then, I set my age about ten years older than the oldest orphan. I just age myself now and go visit every once in a while. ’Bout ten of them have daughters named Candy. Makes me real fucking proud.”

I was floored. There was a heck of a lot more to Candy Vargo than a foul mouth and a penchant for violence.

“I think that’s wonderful,” I told her. “Maybe I’ll apply too.” I glanced up at Gideon, who stared back in surprise.

“You want a child?” he asked with a lopsided grin that made my heart skip a beat.

A tiny Gideon would be my wildest dream come true, but that ship had sailed. And yes, plenty of woman had children into their forties, but they weren’t dating the Grim Reaper. Not to mention, Gideon’s little swimmers were older than dirt. We probably couldn’t get pregnant if we tried.

“Not to have one,” I said quickly, lying just a tiny bit. “I think I would like to help some who are already here and need a loving home. You in, Reaper?”

Gideon laughed. “Oh, the irony, Counselor,” he said, amused. “Yes, I’m in for whatever you want. Always. Although, it might be a little difficult with the ghosts.”

Well, crap. I forgot about that. I was probably less stable than Candy as far as being a parent went. But having Gideon agree made me tingle inside. The reality wouldn’t work out, but the dream was nice.

“Probably not a good plan. We’ll just babysit for Candy occasionally.” I smiled and kissed his cheek. For a Demon, he was a beautiful person on the inside. “Back to business.” I glanced over at my father. His eyes followed my mother’s every move with naked longing. It hurt my heart. “I’m going to mind dive into one of the girls. I want to know if I’m capable of blunting or removing traumatic memories. If I can, I’ll mind dive into each of them. I also want to see if Clarissa took Mike and Anna’s souls.”

Clarence sighed, and turned his golden gaze to mine. “If you saw the ashes, I would have to surmise Clarissa destroyed them. Their souls would be worthless to her. She doesn’t tend to do things that don’t benefit her.”

“So, they went into the light?” I asked, confused.

My father’s gaze didn’t waver, but his expression grew grim. “If they were destroyed, they went nowhere.”

I shook my head and left Gideon’s embrace. “That’s not possible,” I insisted, getting a little frantic. “They have to go somewhere. They were people who had souls. They were good people who were adopting two little girls. They held hands and loved books. They have to go somewhere.”

“That’s why the crime is punishable by execution,” Gideon said.

“What kind of bullshit God would let innocent people go nowhere?” I demanded.

Not one person spoke. Either there was no answer or they didn’t want to tell me.

“I am having a very difficult time understanding this,” I ground out. “However, we won’t know for certain that they were destroyed until I dive into one of the girls’ minds. Right now, so I don’t lose it, I’m going to disbelieve what I’ve just been told. It’s immoral and wrong. All I want to know is if I can blunt or remove horrible memories.”

“Wouldn’t that be immoral?” Candy inquired. “Who are you to decide what memories people can have? You running for God?”

“He’s elected?” I asked, getting so confused I was tempted grab the toothpick she was playing with and plant it in the top of her head.

“Course not,” she said with a laugh. “And why do you think God’s a He? What if God’s a She?”

I closed my eyes. I wasn’t going to debate the gender of a being I wasn’t sure existed. But as annoying as Candy was, she had made a good point. What had happened had happened. I couldn’t take it away. But Emma and Sophia were so young. The fact that they’d died at six and seven years old was sad enough. The memories of the demise of Mike and Anna they had to take with them were unfair. Clarissa had yet again destroyed innocent people.

“I won’t take their entire past, no matter how tragic,” I conceded. “However, it’s on Clarissa if they watched their parents be destroyed. And that ultimately lands on me. The ghosts are my responsibility. There is no way I will let their last memory of the two people who loved them be tainted by that bitch.”

“I like your style, girlie,” Candy said. “Big balls.”

“Lady balls,” I corrected her. “Much stronger than regular wrinkly balls.”

My mother laughed. It was beautiful and musical. I was jerked back to my childhood for a moment. I realized I was around the same age as Emma and Sophia when Clarissa murdered my mother. The memories had almost destroyed me. My little ghostly guests had already died in a gut-wrenching accident. I wasn’t about to let them have Clarissa nightmares for the rest of eternity.

“Darling Daisy,” my mother said, touching my cheek. “I happen to agree with you, but you don’t have it within your powers as a Death Counselor to remove memories.”

“Maybe I do,” I told her, putting my hand over hers and never wanting to let go. “I can do all sorts of things I shouldn’t be able to do.”

“Like read Sumerian,” Missy volunteered.

“I’m sorry. What?” Clarence asked, gaping at me like I was as insane as I felt.

“Some newbie Immortals left a book in Missy’s shop and I can read some of it,” I admitted.

“Back up,” Heather said, alarmed. “Newbie Immortals?”

Shit. With everything that was going on, I’d forgotten about the footprints. “I saw footprints in the bookstore. Before Clarissa showed up.”

“Describe them,” Charlie insisted in a dark tone. “The color. What was it?”

“Silver with flecks of different colors,” I told him. “I thought it might be Clarissa’s but hers had yellow flecks.”

Everyone looked at Charlie. He nodded tersely. “Correct. The colors of the others?”

“Silver with different shades of blues and purples,” I said.

“Wait,” Clarence said, perplexed. “You can see footprints? Yet you don’t have one?”

I nodded. “Walk away from me, please.”

My father did as I asked. It was unsurprising that his footprint was silver, since Clarissa’s was. However, what was odd to me was that it was flecked with a shade of blue—not the same as what I’d seen in the bookstore, but similar.

“Silver with a different shade of blue from the ones I saw earlier,” I said aloud. “There were four Angels in Missy’s shop. Two males and two females.”

Clarence squinted at me in confusion. “You saw them?”

“No, Daisy didn’t. I did,” Missy clarified. “They were blond and attractive. Browsed the shop, bought coffee and left. I didn’t speak with them. I thought they were couples, but they could have been related.”

Cryptic glances were exchanged between the Immortals.

“Heather,” Charlie said. “Walk away from Daisy.”

Heather stood and walked into the yard. Her footprint was bright red with the tiniest flecks of silver running through it. The silver was the small link to her Angel heritage.

“Red with a touch of silver,” I said.

Charlie nodded. “The same as I see. Clarence, have you been made aware of visitors?”

“No,” my father said, sounding frustrated and angry. “I have not.”

“Heather, have you?” Charlie inquired. “As the Arbitrator, they should have checked in with you.”

“Nothing,” Heather said, agitated. “I’ve been apprised of nothing.”

“That’s a shitshow waiting to happen,” Candy muttered.

No one disagreed.

“Is there a chance Clarissa called in backup?” I asked.

“The Angel of Mercy has no backup,” Gideon stated flatly. “My guess is that a tribunal is in the works.”

“Without our knowledge?” Tim questioned, shocked.

“Apparently,” Clarence said.

“Rare,” Tim commented.

“Fucked up,” Candy added. “But Angels are a different breed. Uppity sons of bitches and violent. No offense, Clarence.”

“None taken,” my father replied curtly.

Well, that was disconcerting coming from Candy Vargo. She was the most violent Immortal I’d come across thus far.

“While this is probably not good news, I need to take care of the girls and my ghosts. If I think too hard right now, I’ll paralyze myself,” I said, trying to focus on one proactive step at a time. “I’m going to try to remove the destruction of their parents.”

My father sighed. “You can’t.”

“You don’t know that,” I shot back.

He paused and exchanged an intense glance with Gideon. “I do know that,” he said. “You can’t… but I can.”

“Clarence—” Gideon began.

My father raised his hand sharply and silenced Gideon. “All of this leads back to me,” he said forcefully. “If we can send the children on without a permanent nightmare, then that is what we shall do.” He paused for a long moment, then took my hand in his. “I want you to be very aware that Mike and Anna were more than likely destroyed. Do not go in hoping for a miracle. They rarely occur.”

I nodded and put my arms around him. “I already know,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, my child,” he whispered back. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” I replied.

Chapter Ten

“Hold your dang horses,” Candy grunted, pointing a toothpick at me. “Gram’s in that house. Alana can’t go in. Not no way. Not no how.”

“I wasn’t going to,” my mother insisted quickly. “I’ll stay outside.”

Charlie shook his head. “Not safe.”

My body tensed and my fists clenched at my sides. I was fairly sure I’d just punctured my palms with my fingernails. The thought of Clarissa destroying my mom yet again, made me wish I’d been successful in ending her earlier today.

“How about this?” Gideon suggested, putting his hand on my shoulder. The tension in my body released with his touch. “I’ll create a barrier around Gram’s bedroom. Candy can sit with Gram while Daisy mind dives. It will be safe to bring everyone inside. No one is left alone or unprotected.”

“I can work with that,” Candy said, putting the toothpick into her mouth. The old Candy was back. “However, I want the scrawny mailman with me. The dumbass gossipy asshat is almost as deadly as I am. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to Gram on my watch.”

“I accept,” Tim said. “While the invitation was somewhat insulting, the fact that you recognize my talent outweighs the fact that I was referred to as scrawny.”

“The dumbass gossipy asshat part didn’t bother you?” Heather asked, raising a brow.

“Oh no,” Tim said with a chuckle. “She’s called me far worse.”

“Alrighty then,” I said, feeling confident that Gram would be well taken care of. Candy’s intense adoration of Gram made her the perfect person to defend her. “I’d like Steve with me. Emma and Sophia are besotted with him and vice versa. I think they’ll be more comfortable.”

“Done,” Gideon said, nodding for Tim and Candy to follow him into the house and upstairs. “Give me five minutes.”

“Where are we doing this?” Clarence asked.

“The living room,” I told him. “I’ll get the girls when Gideon gives the okay and everyone can come inside.”

“I’m coming with you to get the girls,” Heather said in a tone that dared anyone to defy her.

Her almost deadly mistake from earlier was clearly weighing on her. But Heather’s move was layered. As much as she was worried about me mind diving into the dead, she was indeed standing by me and my decisions.

“Good plan,” Charlie said, reading Heather’s intent as clearly as I did.

Giving Missy a quick kiss, Heather took my hand in hers and squeezed it. “I love you, Daisy.”

“Love you right back,” I told her.

My mother floated over and placed her hands on either side of my face. “I don’t understand this mind diving. It’s not what I did to guide the dead, and I don’t believe it’s what Gram did either.”

“It’s not,” I told her. “It kind of happened by accident.”

“Explain, please.”

It felt so incredibly normal to be talking to my mom. Our conversation wasn’t what I would call a typical mother-daughter chat, but it was strangely perfect. I was beginning to embrace the crazy, and I loved it.

“It was Sam—the first ghost who I helped. He was the kindest, sweetest little old man,” I said with great fondness. I still thought about Sam often. I wanted to find an opening to become friends with his widow. My to-do list was seriously long. “We were trying to communicate and he reached out his arms for a hug. I was so smitten with him, I hugged him.”

I decided not to go too much into detail. Informing everyone about the initial pain and how I was sure I was dying wasn’t going to bode well. I didn’t need my mom and Heather crawling up my ass. I’d found my own way and it worked. It might be unconventional, but I wasn’t exactly a conventional person.

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but I end up in a misty room—no real ceiling or floor. In the room, the dead look like they did before they passed on and we can speak normally to each other. That’s about it.”

“Not really,” my dad said, giving me the eyeball.

I eyeballed him right back. “Okay, fine,” I conceded. “I can see their memories. I can find out directly from them what they need from me to move on.” I gave my dad a quick shut the hell up glance. No more needed to be shared right now. I didn’t have time to defend myself. I was going to do what needed to be done and I wasn’t in the mood to fight. There had been enough of that today.

“Fascinating,” my mother said. “Your gifts far exceed mine and Gram’s. But then again, you are part Angel.”

“The diving comes with a little baggage,” Heather pointed out, tattling on me.

“For the love of everything unnecessary,” I said with an eye roll and a huge sigh. “Mom, mind diving has given me a few extras.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Extras?”

“Powers,” Charlie chimed in. “Powers that belong to Immortals, yet Daisy has no footprint.”

My mother pondered what she’d just learned. Seeing her was devasting and wonderful at the same time. I’d dreamt about her most of my life. Never in my wildest of dreams would I have guessed I’d get to be with her again. Of course, I never would have dreamed I would have a houseful of dead guests or that I’d be in love with the Grim Reaper either. Forty had been one hell of a year so far.

“Why do you believe the mind diving is causing the powers to emerge?” she asked.

The question gave me pause. But there was some logic attached to the fantastical. “Every time I’ve gone into the mind of the dead, something new happens. First it was my improved eyesight, then speed, then strength. This list keeps growing.”

“You transported me today,” Missy reminded me.

I winced just a little. “Yep.”

“How wonderful,” my mother said with a delighted smile that made me feel wildly proud.

While everyone else was alarmed and confused by what was happening to me—including me—my mom thought it was fantastic. Of course, she was my mom. She’d probably think anything I did was great. A visceral pang of regret at having missed so many important milestones in life with her hit me hard.

“I feel it too, Daisy,” she said softly, pressing her ghostly forehead to mine. “The person I’m so very thankful to is Gram. She loves you just as much as I do and raised you when I couldn’t. In a perfect world, we would have all been a family.” She looked over at my father—the Archangel Michael. The man I’d called John Travolta because of the movie Michael… to annoy him. The man who I now called dad. He looked back at her with such raw adoration, I felt like I should look away.

I didn’t.

Love was special. Real love was rare. My parents loved each other. I was born of love. I grew up with love and I had love in every corner of my life. None of it was traditional by any definition of the word, but I had it.

“We’re good to go,” Gideon said, standing in the archway of the open front door.

The Grim Reaper smiled at me and winked. His beauty still made me breathless. Who he was as a person, made me love him to a distraction. I craved the man who looked at me like I was the most precious and beautiful person in the world.

Yep. Love was hot damned good.

“You ready?” Heather asked.

“Always,” I replied.

* * *

“Okay,” I said, squatting down in front of the couch. Emma and Sophia were seated on Steve’s lap and clinging to him. “I have a plan where we can really talk to each other.”

Donna and Karen flanked the trio. The girls weren’t as traumatized as they were in the shop, but they seemed lost. My hatred for Clarissa grew. I had no clue I could despise the Angel of Mercy more than I already did, but Clarissa was despicable.

“Can Karen see them?” Heather asked, thinking the same thing I’d thought about my dog. “I mean, I know Donna can being a Hell Hound, but I would swear Karen knows they’re here.”

“Two days ago, I would have said no,” I told Heather, scratching Karen’s head as her tail slapped against the couch with loud, happy thuds. “Today, I have no clue, but I would put five bucks on yes.”

“Kaaaaaaaraaaah,” Emma said, pointing at my doofy lab.

Karen didn’t turn in Emma’s direction, but her tail continued to wag.

“And maybe not.” I shrugged. “Anyhoo,” I continued, giving the girls a big smile. “What do you think about giving me a hug? If that would be okay with you, I could peek into your mind and we can talk.”

“Huuuuuurrrrttah?” Sophia asked, sitting up straighter in Steve’s lap and holding onto him tighter.

“Not a bit,” Steve promised. “In fact, I bet Daisy would play a game with you silly girls.”

They both giggled. The sound was warped due to their state, but the beauty was unmistakable.

“Excellent idea,” I said, grinning. “You name it. What shall we play?”

“Prrrriiiinchaaasesss,” Emma suggested, bouncing on Steve’s lap.

“Yausssss,” Sophia agreed.

My mother floated over and waved at the girls. They waved back shyly. “Hi, I’m Alana. I’m Daisy’s mommy. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Yoooouah deeeeeaahda,” Emma pointed out.

“You’re right. I’m dead just like you,” my mom said with a smile, patting Emma on the head. “How about I name off a few princesses for you to choose from?”

“Yausssss,” Emma agreed, touching my mother with curiosity.

Alana sat down beside Steve and began to braid Emma’s ghostly hair. “How about Snow White?”

“Naawwwooo,” Sophia said with a giggle.

“Cinderella?” my mom tried again.

They shook their heads and scrunched their little noses.

My mom laughed. “Umm… I might be at a little disadvantage here,” she said. “I’ve missed out on the latest Disney movies.”

“Can I jump in?” Missy asked.

“Be my guest,” I said, relieved. I wasn’t really well versed in the princess world either. Missy did a reading hour with little guys and gals on Saturdays at the bookstore.

“Ariel? Or Belle?” Missy suggested.

“Naawwwooo,” they yelled with a laugh.

Missy pulled on her own braid and pursed her lips. “Mmmkay, Jasmine? Or Tiana? Or Mulan?”

Again, none of the choices were working for our little girls.

“Well, shoot,” Missy said with a laugh. “I’m kind of stuck.”

“Let’s let Emma and Sophia pick for themselves,” Steve said, hugging both girls close.

They rested against him with trust and ease. It didn’t surprise me a bit. Steve was magical—in life and in death.

“Prrrriiiinchaaasesss Mmmemmaaah,” Emma announced, pointing at herself.

“Prrrriiiinchaaasesss Sooooooofeeeeeeah,” Sophia added.

“Perfect,” I said with a laugh. “Should I be Princess Daisy?”

“I think that fits,” Gideon said with a grin. “I’ll be your prince.”

“Ooooohhhhhhhhah,” Sophia said, pointing at Gideon and giggling.

“Is that okay with you, Princess Emma and Princess Sophia?” Gideon asked, bowing to the little girls.

“Dausseeeeee looooooovah Prrrrriiiiince?

I glanced at Gideon and grinned. “Yes, I love Prince Gideon.”

The little girls clapped their approval. The sound was muted since their little hands went right through each other, but the intent was clear.

“So, which one of you princesses would like to hug me first?” I asked.

They both raised their hands.

Crap. Upsetting them or hurting their feelings by choosing one over the other was off the table.

An insanely crazy idea occurred to me. There wasn’t a single person in the room who could confirm if what I was about to do would work. However, my gut told me it would. Emma and Sophia were connected by blood, love and a sad past. Their bond was true.

Heather, Charlie and Clarence all watched me intently. Heather was worried. Charlie was curious. And my father? He simply winked at me. He knew exactly what I was about to do.

I glanced at Steve, who smiled and nodded. “It’s what I would do,” he whispered, reading my mind as well. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll be right here to cuddle the one who might have to wait her turn.”

“Thank you,” I told him, touching his withering cheek.

“Always, Daisy,” Steve replied with a smile so sweet, it made me mist up.

Sucking back the melancholy, I put a smile on my face. My focus had to be on the girls. “Princess Emma and Princess Sophia, my dad is going to touch my back so he can watch us play. He’s very nice.”

“I am?” Clarence inquired with a chuckle.

“You are,” I confirmed.

“He is a very nice man,” my mother assured the girls.

“Ooooookkaaaayah,” Sophia said, reaching out to me as her little sister did the same.

“Dad, can you touch my back please?” I asked.

“It would be my honor,” he replied softly. “Shall I forecast for the others?”

I thought about it for a moment. “No,” I told him. “There’s nothing to be proven. This is our private playdate—just the four of us.”

“As you wish.”

Emma and Sophia sat patiently with their arms outreached and smiles on their small faces. Their trust in me was humbling. They were so young. After what they’d been through, I would have thought they would be hardened or broken. However, the princesses were anything but. The resiliency of children was amazing. Making sure that their afterlife wasn’t filled with nightmares was my mission. I had no plans to fail.

Chapter Eleven

The cold. The cold went all the way to my bones and tore through my body like sharp, frozen daggers made of ice. Trying to catch my breath, I gasped for air but stayed calm.

My head pounded violently and every single cell in my body screamed for oxygen. I knew it was momentary, but it still sucked.

My mind went numb and I couldn’t feel my limbs anymore.

Closing my eyes, I welcomed the icy chill that permeated my skin and seeped into my blood. It was proof that I was exactly where I wanted to be. I would never enjoy the sensation, but I’d become accustomed to it. With each mind dive, the pain was less and the aftereffects were shorter.

I prayed hard to the light that when I opened my eyes, both little princesses would be standing in front of me.

Sometimes wishes did come true.

The three of us stood in a cavernous room of emptiness. There was no floor. No walls to speak of—more of a vast landscape of nothing. Princess Sophia, Princess Emma and I floated in a silvery mist. It wasn’t frightening, but it would never be a place I would want to stay.

I could feel my father’s presence even though I couldn’t see him. It was comforting.

“Hello princesses,” I said, curtseying to the gorgeous tiny duo.

Both had big blue eyes and golden blonde curls. They were slight in build, but their childlike smiles were breathtaking.

“Princess Daisy,” Emma said, returning the curtsey.

It looked a little bit like she was going potty. I bit back my giggle and nodded royally.

“You are so pretty, Princess Daisy,” Sophia said, approaching me with her arms extended.

“Come here. Both of you,” I said, making short work of the small distance between us and scooping them into my arms. “You are the most beautiful princesses I have ever seen.”

“Ever?” Emma asked doubtfully.

“Ever,” I promised.

“Will you give us kisses?” Sophia whispered. “I like kisses.”

“No slobber,” Emma informed me, shaking a little finger at me. “Sophia doesn’t like my slobber when I kiss her. Icky.”

I nodded in a very serious manner. “I would never slobber on you. You have my word.”

Emma looked worried. “But is it okay if I slobber on you by mistake?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I would be honored to have princess slobber on my cheek.”

Emma threw her head back and laughed so hard, I joined her. I felt the vibration of her joy all through my body. It was a feeling I didn’t want to end.

Sophia leaned in and whispered in my ear. “She can’t help a little bit of slobber. I really don’t mind either.”

“You’re a good big sister,” I told her.

“That’s what my mommy says too!” she said, then sobered quickly. “The bad woman blew up my mommy and daddy.”

“They dead two times,” Emma said, scrubbing her little hands over her face.

We were getting right to it. Maybe I wouldn’t have to search their memories. The head-on way they accepted the truth was astonishing. “Is that what you saw?”

They nodded. Sophia put her small hand on my cheek and Emma twisted a few of my curls in her fingers.

“The bad woman wanted to blow us up,” Sophia said. “Mommy and Daddy saved us from her.”

“Because they love us so much,” Emma said. “To the moom and back.”

“Moon, silly,” Sophia corrected her.

“Moon,” Emma said. “I mess up sometimes.”

“Me too,” I told her. “All the time. I have a question for both of you.” I hesitated to ask. Were they old enough to make the decision? Should I, as an adult, make it for them?

“Can I go first?” Sophia asked.

“Of course,” I said, glad for a reprieve while I figured it out. “Ask away.”

“Mr. Steve is your dead husband. Right?” she asked.

“He is.”

“Is he sad that you have a Prince Charming that isn’t him?”

This little girl was a very old soul. Her question floored me. “He’s actually not sad at all. He’s happy,” I told her. “Steve died last year and he came back to help me find someone who would love me as much as he did. Someone who I could live my life with. He didn’t want me to be sad and lonely.”

“I love Mr. Steve,” Emma said.

I wished Steve could hear them. I regretted now that I didn’t have my father broadcast to the others what was happening. “Mr. Steve loves you too.”

Sophia nodded. “Our mommy says we are loveable. So that must be why Mr. Steve loves us.”

“You are so lovable, it makes me want to tickle you,” I said.

“Wanna play chase?” Emma asked with wide, sparkling eyes. “I bet I can beat you. I’m very fast.”

“She is,” Sophia warned with a grin.

I laughed. There was no way she could actually beat me since I was a freak of nature, but today she was going to kick my ass. I would make sure of it. “You’re on.”

“Wait,” Sophia said. “It’s your turn to ask a question, Princess Daisy.”

She was right. I wasn’t going to treat them like babies. They deserved more than that. While I had no plans to go into their memories, I felt like the answer to the question I was about to ask should be theirs—not mine.

“Would you like me to take away the memory of the bad woman blowing up your mommy and daddy? I could leave you with just the happy memories.”

Sophia tilted her head in thought and Emma put her thumb in her mouth. A minute passed and I wondered if I had upset or confused them.

“Why?” Sophia finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Well…” I started, not sure how to explain. “Maybe you might not want to remember the sad part.”

“Why?” Emma asked with her thumb still in her mouth. “Mommy says you can’t be happy if you don’t feel sad sometimes. It’s okay to be sad and cry. You need to have your feelings, or they will have you. Daddy says that.”

“Your daddy is very smart,” I told her.

She giggled. “We had so many sads before Mommy and Daddy wanted us. But Mommy said that meant we would have happies that were much bigger than other people’s happies.”

Sophia gently took Emma’s thumb out of her mouth. “I want to remember,” she said. “Mommy and Daddy saved us two times. They saved us from the dark place where we were hungry and cold, and they saved us from the bad woman. I think I want to keep that in my head forever, please.”

“Mommy and Daddy are happy to save us. For Halloween they were Superman and Wonder Woman,” Emma said with great pride. “I was a princess.”

“Nothing lasts forever,” Sophia said, sounding decades older than she was. “Except love. That’s what Mommy says.”

I felt gut punched. I’d learned more about life in the last thirty seconds than I had in forty years.

“You two are the most special princesses I have ever met,” I told them, covering their sweet faces in the kisses they’d requested.

They returned the favor. Emma squealed as she kissed me and left a fair amount of six-year-old princess slobber. It was as close to Heaven as I’d ever come. Maybe there was a God after all.

“You’re special too, Daisy,” Emma said, wiggling out of my arms. “You ready to play chase?”

“Are you in?” I asked Sophia, who gave me one last kiss before nodding enthusiastically.

“Yes! I am ready to play chase.”

Time ran differently when I was inside a mind. I was fully aware that the longer I stayed, the harder it might be to recover, but I didn’t care. I needed some happies with my two wonderful little friends.

Emma and Sophia were wise beyond their young years. They were magical. Even after what they’d been through, they weren’t jaded. Their imaginations were limitless. Their capacity to love was humbling. They held no prejudice or judgement. Decisions were easy for them. They chose the good—the happies.

“No tickling,” Emma announced. “Except we can tickle you.”

“You can kiss us lots of times and then after chase we can have a tea party,” Sophia added.

“And after the tea party we will play horsey. Daisy will be the horsey,” Emma said.

“Works for me,” I agreed without hesitation. The plan sounded perfect.

I wouldn’t push them to tell me what they needed to move on. When they were ready, they would let me know and I would treasure the time I was allowed with the little princesses. I hated that they wouldn’t be part of this world. I knew that Emma and Sophia would have added so much to it. Understanding the unexplainable was not going to happen.

So instead, I played chase.

And I lost every single time.

The tea party was delightful and I was an excellent horsey, according to the girls.

It was one of the very best days of my life that I would cherish always.

* * *

“How long was I out?” I asked, coming to on the couch with Emma and Sophia still wrapped securely in my embrace and my dogs curled up at my feet.

The girls were sound asleep. Steve sat to my left and Gideon to my right. My father was on the overstuffed arm chair with my mother. Charlie stood by the fireplace, watching me with interest. Missy and Heather were sitting on the love seat holding hands.

“Two hours,” my father said. “You were right not to take the memory from them.”

I smiled at my own memory of playing with the princesses. “It was their decision. I simply honored it.”

“How do you feel?” Gideon asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

Gently and carefully giving the little ones to Steve, I stood up and tested my limbs.

“Steve, can you take Emma and Sophia up to my room and stay with them?” I asked. “I’m not sure what’s going on with me and I don’t want to scare them.”

“Of course,” Steve said, floating over and kissing my forehead. “You be careful, Daisy.”

“I will,” I promised. I watched him float up the stairs with the precious cargo as my dogs trotted behind him.

Jogging around the room, I felt an unfamiliar zing of energy and a slight out-of-body sensation. Placing my palms flat against the front door and stretching out my hamstrings, I tried to center myself. Taking slow, measured breaths, I closed my eyes and counted to thirty.

“Daisy, talk to me,” Gideon said, concerned. “What’s happening?”

“Give me a sec,” I said. The sense of hyperawareness didn’t scare me. It was a little unsettling, but it wasn’t a negative feeling. The slight buzz under my skin was odd—not painful, just unusual. “Need to run.”

“It’s midnight,” Heather said.

“And it’s twenty degrees outside,” Missy added. “Not sure that’s a good plan.”

“In the front yard. Not far,” I said. “Just need to get a little of this out of me.”

“A little of what?” my father asked, crossing the room. He turned me to face him, put his fingers under my chin, raised my gaze to his and examined my eyes. “Explain to me what you’re experiencing.”

“Not sure,” I told him. “It’s not bad. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s too much.”

“Like you want to crawl out of your skin?” Gideon asked, joining my father.

I nodded. “Kind of. I think if I run, I’ll feel more like myself.”

“Then you shall run,” my mother announced. “And we will watch.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, loving the sound of the words.

“My pleasure,” she replied. “Everyone outside. My daughter needs to run.”

“All of you don’t need to come outside,” I said, opening the door and feeling the blast of frigid air. “It’s freezing.”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Heather said, grabbing her jacket and tossing Missy hers.

“Fine,” I said with a small laugh. “Let’s do this. I think I might have gained some speed.”

It was the biggest understatement of the year.

Chapter Twelve

“That’s simply not possible,” Charlie said, squinting at me in complete confusion.

“Apparently it is,” Gideon contradicted him.

“She should be on fire,” Charlie muttered. “Or at the very least, severely burned.”

I looked down at myself. “I’m not.”

Running had felt amazing. The wind in my face and the movement calmed me. For brief seconds, I had no awareness of anything around me. The nothingness was freeing. I’d take another lap around the yard if everyone wasn’t staring at me like I was an alien from outer space. None of them had much room to talk, considering they weren’t exactly normal.

“Clearly, you’re not burned,” my mother said, delighted by the freakish spectacle of her daughter.

She seemed to be the only one who found my speed to be an asset.

I paced the length of the house with my hands on my hips. While the strange feelings had dissipated some, I was still antsy. “I’m faster. It’s not a big deal.”

“Umm… you disappeared,” Heather said.

I stared at her in surprise. “I did what?”

My father joined me in my now erratic pacing. “You moved so quickly, you literally disappeared. You had to have moved faster than the speed of light.”

“Which is about 671,000,000 miles per hour,” Tim announced walking out onto the porch. “I watched from the window.” He raised his hand before anyone asked. “Gram is still the same and Candy is with her. Candy Vargo wanted me to pass on a message to Daisy.”

“What is it?” I asked, coming to an abrupt halt and absorbing the first part of what Tim had shared.

“I’d rather not convey it verbatim,” he said. “Suffice it to say, she was impressed and laced her congratulations with many f-bombs.”

I smiled. “Remind me to thank her later,” I said. A compliment was a compliment no matter how many f-bombs.

“Even an Immortal can’t move that fast,” Charlie said, walking over and placing two fingers on my neck to check my pulse. Glancing down at his wristwatch, he chuckled. “Just bizarre.”

“What is Daisy’s heart rate?” Heather asked.

“That of a human at rest,” Charlie replied.

“Why did you say I should be on fire?” I asked. “Were you being literal?”

“Oh yes,” Tim confirmed. “Charlie was being quite literal. If you were truly moving at the speed of light—which I do believe you were—you should ignite. This is because of the excessive amount of friction generated. At the speed you moved, you could have traveled the world seven times around in one second.”

“Did I?” I asked, worried.

“I have no clue.” Tim shrugged, but he was grinning. “However, what surprises me the most is that every bone in your body should be shattered and they’re not. The force of the wind alone would have been similar to a Mack truck hitting you every second. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t recommend traveling the speed of light. But our Daisy is clearly not normal.”

“Normal is overrated,” my mother said, immediately coming to my defense. “Who wants to be normal? It’s boring.”

The only other person happily impressed with the mutant I’d become was Missy. She grinned from ear to ear. I gave her a weak smile.

“Dude, your mom is right. None of us are what you could describe as normal. I’m a freaking Soul Keeper for the love of everything weird and wonderful.”

My breath caught in my throat. Missy was part of my secret plan and she had no clue. While I should pull her aside privately, there was no time. She did have a choice in the matter. If she was uncomfortable with the scheme, I’d figure something else out. I didn’t know what that would be, but I’d think of something. There was too much at stake.

“Speaking of…” I began, eyeing Missy with uncertainty.

“You don’t need to,” she replied with a wink. “Answer is yes.”

I gaped at her. “You can read my mind?”

“Nope, not exactly. But I’m pretty damn sure we’re thinking the same thing.”

“Would it work?” I asked. “Would you be safe?”

“How many?” she asked.

“Twelve,” I replied, then paused and looked at my mom. She had no idea what I was thinking, but she smiled with pride at whatever whacky proposal her daughter was in the process of putting into place. She might not be as happy when she heard it. “No, I’m wrong. Thirteen.”

Missy laughed. “Piece of cake. From what I was told as a child, there’s room for a hundred.”

“Shut the front door,” I said. “A hundred?”

“Yep.” Missy gave me a thumbs up.

“Sorry to butt in here,” Gideon said, his gaze bouncing between Missy and me. “But a hundred what?”

“Same thing I want to know,” Heather added warily.

Missy walked over to me and took my hand. Her warm hand in mine was comforting, but it was also a sign of solidarity. She was aware that we were about to face some Immortal pushback and possibly some ghostly pushback as well.

“Souls,” Missy said. “I can protect up to a hundred souls inside me. Thirteen will be a piece of cake.”

“Absolutely not,” Heather said, pressing the bridge of her nose.

Missy smiled at the woman she loved. “Heather, while you are my person and I love you, you are not the boss of me. I’m the boss of me.”

Heather sighed, closed her eyes and let her head fall back on her shoulders. “Why do I love the crazy ones?” she muttered.

“Because we’re more fun,” I pointed out.

“Your definition of fun is terrifying,” Heather shot back.

“No,” Missy contradicted her. “Terrifying is leaving the ghosts vulnerable to Clarissa. She destroyed Mike and Anna. They’re destined to nothingness. That, love of my life, is terrifying.”

“Fine point. Well made,” Tim said. “However, there is an issue.”

“Just one?” Heather asked sarcastically.

Tim, being a literal sort, nodded. “Yes. Just one. It’s unwise to have Gram and Alana near each other—even in soul form. If they interact inside the Soul Keeper, she could be harmed.”

“Not an issue,” my mother said forcefully. “I have no intention of hiding from Clarissa ever again. My place is next to my daughter and my husband. Period.”

“I think I could handle it,” Missy said. “I’m pretty sure a soul doesn’t recognize a soul.”

“Wrong,” my mother said. “I knew I was with Birdie for years. While we couldn’t talk in the conventional sense of the word, we knew we were together.”

“But with thirteen, maybe you can stay away from each other,” Missy suggested hopefully.

My mother simply shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. She was a beautiful woman, but when angry, she looked like a gorgeous, vengeful goddess.

“Candy can cloak Alana’s soul,” Tim said, offering up Candy’s services.

“How?” Gideon asked.

“She can play with fate,” Tim said, wincing a bit. “Risky, but, as everyone knows, Candy Vargo loves living on the edge. Plus, she thinks of Gram as her own. She will go to great lengths—legal and illegal—to ensure her safety. And I’m quite sure she would adore breaking the law. Karma loves to shake it up.”

“How much trouble can she get in for that?” I asked. Candy drove me to want to drink, and I wasn’t a big drinker, but the profane, violent woman had wedged her rude self into my heart and she wasn’t going anywhere fast.

“Fate answers to no one,” Charlie said.

“And there’s your answer,” Tim said with a salute.

“Okay. Good. Clarissa wants you,” I reminded my mother. “Her obsession might be to ruin my life, but it’s you that she wants.”

“She already killed me,” my mother replied flatly. “It’s my right to see her destroyed. I am not going inside Missy. End of discussion. I might be needed to lure Clarissa in.”

The thought made me ill. However, I was planning on using myself to lure in the despicable Angel of Mercy. It shouldn’t surprise me at all my mother had the same thought.

“Again, fine point and quite well made,” Tim said, then turned to Clarence. “Which begs another question.”

“And that is?” my father asked.

“Your plan,” Gideon reminded Clarence and Alana. “You said you had an idea of how to destroy Clarissa.”

“Leviticus,” my father said.

“No can do,” I snapped. The surprise on his face would have been funny if the consequences weren’t so dire. “There will be no trading of eyeballs.”

His eyes grew wide when he realized he was busted. He’d thought he could pull the biblical wool over my eyes. Well, technically he could have, but I had a few buddies who had given me a Sunday school lesson recently.

“You know the Bible?”

“Nope, but I know you,” I informed him. “And the answer is no. You will not trade your life for hers.”

“Then I will,” my mother insisted. “I’m already dead. Spending time with you and your father is as close to Heaven as I will ever come. Heaven could not compare to what I have right now. I have no fear of nothingness. I will go knowing that my child is safe.”

I smiled and crossed to her. “I love you,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “And I know you meant every word you just said. However, as much as you’re not going to want to hear this, it wouldn’t work. You’re a ghost.”

“Well, shit,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s really not fair, all things considered.”

I laughed. Real life was so much stranger than fiction—at least mine was.

“Wait,” I said, putting puzzle pieces together in my head. There were many missing but a few clicked. “If there are Angels in town beginning a tribunal, that should be a good thing, right?”

“One might think so, but it isn’t necessarily true,” Gideon commented dryly.

“Correct,” Clarence said. “The fact that I wasn’t informed doesn’t bode well.”

“Okay, fine,” I said, pacing again. Movement helped me think. “But Gideon said that destroying a ghost was punishable by execution.”

“Oh my God,” Heather squealed, coming up behind me, grabbing me around the waist and swinging me like a rag doll. “Brilliant.”

“Agreed,” Charlie said. “Even if they’re here for more nefarious reasons, when the charge is made, the Angels will have to see it through.”

“We have proof,” Heather pointed out, putting me down. “We were there.”

“Do we?” Gideon asked cryptically. “No one saw it happen. The celestial bastards will know if we’re lying.”

“They are rather difficult like that,” Tim said with a shudder.

I thought hard about my next statement before I said it aloud. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. However, I would ask permission first. “I could go back into Sophia’s mind and get proof. I will ask her if she would be okay with that.”

Everyone pondered what I had said in silence. Hell, I was pondering it as well. But bringing Clarissa to justice without one of us going down with her was the best plan we’d come up with thus far.

“It doesn’t thrill me to offer that,” I said. “But if we can end it clean, we should do it. I think Sophia would be proud to help.”

Clarence nodded his agreement. “And if reliving the memory proves to be too much for Sophia, we can modify it—not take it away, but make it less painful.”

I thought about what Sophia had said to me. It would stay with me till the end of time. “No. I can tell you now, she wants to keep the memory of being saved by her parents. That will be a nonnegotiable point for her.”

“She’s seven,” Tim pointed out, confused.

“She knows way more than we do,” I said. “Trust me on that.”

“Question,” Missy said.

I already knew what she was going to ask. Maybe we could read each other’s minds.

“I can do it,” my father said, clearly on the same spooky mind-reading channel that Missy and I were on.

“I was hoping you would say that,” I told him.

Gideon sighed dramatically and ran his hands through his hair. “While I’m thrilled that you people can speak without using actual words, could you possibly share what the hell is going on?”

“I’m with the Grim Reaper on that one,” Tim added.

“I can take the ghosts back to soul form so they can enter Missy,” Clarence explained.

Charlie cleared his throat and glared at the Archangel. “And how much will that take?”

My father’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He looked like he wanted to headbutt the Immortal Enforcer. We really didn’t have time for another smackdown. We were supposed to be on the same damn team.

“Of what?” I asked quickly, jumping in to diffuse whatever was going down. “How much of what?”

No one said a word. I rolled my eyes. Still, no one said anything. My first eye roll was so good that I was afraid a second one would make my eyes get stuck in the back of my head. I was putting nothing weird past myself at this point. I might have just accidently circled the world seven times.

“I repeat,” I said, annoyed. “How much of what?”

“Power,” Gideon replied. “It was why I was concerned that Clarence was going to remove memories. It takes an absurd amount of power to do that. Not to mention, it’s technically illegal.”

My head spun. The lies of omission were adding up and the sum was appalling. “Is it as illegal as damning a ghost to nothingness?”

“No,” Gideon said. “It’s not.”

“You know what would be awesome?” I ground out, letting my gaze nail my father, Tim, Heather, Charlie and Gideon. My mom and Missy were not part of this discussion. “It would be seriously fantastic if you people could lay everything on the table. We could make solid decisions if ALL of us had the facts. You feel me?”

Charlie nodded. “Daisy is correct. However, in our defense, it’s hard to remember that what is fact to us is not common knowledge to you.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded. “But it might be to all of our advantage if you kept that detail in mind.”

“Daisy, we are very old,” Tim reminded me.

“And?” I asked. “Do you have a point to go along with that?”

Tim compressed his lips and thought about it. “Actually, no,” he said with a surprised chuckle. “Simply an observation.”

“Mmkay.” I sighed and caught my father’s gaze. “How much will it take to convert twelve ghosts back into souls—including Gram, who’s not exactly in any kind of alert state.”

“Not much,” he said.

“Are you lying to me?” I demanded.

“Not much,” he repeated, trying not to grin.

He failed.

I laughed. There was nothing else to do but laugh. It was either that, or punch him in the head. I didn’t think my mom would be thrilled if I backhanded my dad.

“How fast will you regenerate?” Gideon asked Clarence.

Clarence shrugged. “A day. Possibly two. And it’s not a total mutation of my power. It’s slight.”

I nodded curtly. “Fine. New living arrangement. We’re all staying here now. There’s power in numbers and if Clarence is weak, he has backup. Clear?”

“While the plan has merit, I will not be staying here,” Charlie said. “My place is with my wife. June is wondering why I’ve been working such odd hours at the hospital. June is my top priority. I will be going home.”

I’d almost forgotten. “She’s coming for lunch tomorrow. We’re having a girls’ lunch plus Tim.”

“What?” Gideon asked. “I don’t know how wise that is.”

Heather jumped in. “We got cornered by Jennifer,” she admitted. “It’s impossible to say no to Jennifer.”

“Jennifer is wonderfully pushy,” Tim agreed.

“Very well then,” Charlie said with a sigh of relief. “June has been missing her friends. I am pleased.”

“We can still be here,” my father pointed out. “We just stay upstairs and out of sight.”

“Ohhhhhh,” my mother said wistfully. “I’d so love to meet your friends.”

I smiled at her. “You can be there. They can’t see you. And as long as you don’t talk to me, it should be fine.”

“Can they hear me?” she asked, perplexed.

“Nope, but there’s a fine chance I’d answer you and that would be kind of hard to explain.”

“Got it,” she said with a laugh. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”

“I must say I’m quite excited to have a go with Jennifer again,” Tim said. “I’ve been studying up. I do believe I can take her.”

“Shit,” Missy muttered with a laugh. “Remind me not to eat when they get going.”

“Deal,” I told her. “You ready to host some new ghostly friends?”

Missy’s smile grew wide. “I most certainly am.”

* * *

Gathering the ghosts took a few minutes. The Tasmanian Devil, as I liked to call her, was hiding in the junk drawer waiting to scare me. She failed. However, Tim screamed like a girl when I yanked open the drawer and she came out screeching like a banshee.

“Does she always do that?” Tim gasped out, holding on to the counter so he didn’t drop to the ground from the shock of it all.

“Yep,” I said. “Normally, she’s in the silverware drawer, but I guess she’s changing it up for variety.”

“I see,” he said. “How lovely.”

Charlie had gone home to June. Gideon was on the porch with my mother. Missy was sitting on the couch with Heather, having a cup of tea to ready herself. When I’d asked if that was part of the ritual. She’d laughed and said it was now. New Soul Keeper. New rules.

I understood all too well.

“If we can gather everyone except Gram in the living room, it will go faster,” my father said.

“I’ve got Gram,” Candy announced, walking down the stairs with Gram’s small body cradled in her arms.

“How are you doing that?” I asked. No one but me could actually touch the ghosts. Their hands went right through them.

“Little illegal voodoo on my part,” Candy said. “Won’t hurt Gram at all. Might give me a rash where the sun don’t shine, but I don’t give a shit.”

“Pun intended?” Tim inquired, delighted with his cleverness.

“Bite me,” Candy Vargo grunted. “Anyway, as I was saying before the Ass Police interrupted, it’s worth it to be able to touch Gram.”

My wide smile came unbidden. Candy’s love for Gram was pure and beautiful.

“Gram loves you, Candy Vargo,” I said, motioning for the ghosts to gather by the fireplace. I half-expected Candy to flip me off. I was wrong.

“I like that,” she said. “Never had me a Gram before. Never had a mom either.”

“How is that possible?” Missy asked, curious.

“Some of us were created,” Tim chimed in. “Actually, all of the Immortals here were created. It’s quite rare for an Immortal to be born.”

“Does that make you sad?” Missy asked Heather.

Heather shook her head. “No. It’s simply a fact. Any family I’ve had over time, I’ve chosen.”

“Until now,” Tim pointed out correctly.

“True,” Heather agreed. “And as far as Daisy being my sister, I would have chosen her in a heartbeat.”

“Ditto,” I said.

“And me?” Clarence inquired. He wasn’t behaving hurt to have been left out. He wasn’t being passive-aggressive. He was truly curious. “Would you have chosen me as your father?”

Heather eyed him. “Hard question to answer,” she admitted.

“I would imagine,” he replied, taking no offense. “I didn’t know about you for a very long time.”

“Color me confused,” Missy said, looking at Heather. “I thought you were created.”

“I was,” Heather confirmed. “I was created in a screwy Angel experiment. Clarence is my sperm donor of sorts. So as to whether I would pick you as my father… I suppose it remains to be seen.”

“Fair enough,” Clarence said. “The entire experiment was unethical.”

“And not your fault,” Heather told him. “There are beings who eclipse all of us. And they’re the ones who care nothing about individuals—only power.”

“Wow,” Missy said, taking it all in and pulling Heather into a hug.

Tim always had two cents to add. “The entire experiment was somewhat appalling. There was a group created—kind of like thoroughbred horses—cold and calculated. It was done to streamline the species. Super Immortals, so to speak.”

“So, you didn’t know Heather was your daughter?” Missy asked Clarence.

“Not for a long time,” he said, giving Heather an apologetic glance. “And yes, all of it was unethical, but as Immortals, we are aware there are shades of gray around every corner. There are many circumstances over which we have no control. I didn’t know that Heather was one of the products of the experiment until a century ago, and I was forbidden to reach out.”

“But you did,” Missy pointed out.

Clarence nodded. “She asked. It was wrong that she didn’t know.”

“It was a very Darth Vader moment,” Heather said with a laugh.

Clarence smiled. “And you have an excellent right hook.”

“Thank you,” Heather said.

“You’re most welcome,” he replied.

“I punched him in the face too,” I added with a wince. “The Archangel Michael—or John Travolta, as I like to occasionally call him—has produced some rather violent girls.”

“Better a gal with lady balls than a wussy girl,” Missy pointed out.

Missy was either the most amazing person I knew or she was missing a few screws like I was. None of the insanity seemed to faze her in the least. She simply took in what she was told, processed it and didn’t judge.

“Are there more?” Missy asked. “From the experiment?”

Clarence nodded. “There are five. Heather and four more.”

Heather tilted her head and looked at Clarence. “Do you know them?”

“Of them,” Clarence said. “I’ve never met them.”

“Do you want to?” Tim inquired, steering clear of the Tasmanian Devil, who seemed intent on scaring the hell out of him again if her stalking him was anything to go by.

My father shrugged. “Not particularly. I have two daughters. I am quite happy to leave it at that.”

I snuck a peek at Heather. Her expression displayed her shock. However, it also showed her happiness at Clarence’s words. She quickly reined it in, but I saw it. It made me happy. Right now, it was all about the little happies. I would take all of the happies that I could get.

And speaking of little happies…

“We’re ready for our new adventure,” Steve said, floating into the room carrying a giggling Emma and Sophia. “I’ve explained it to the princesses and they are excited.”

I grinned. “You’ll be safe in Missy. I can’t risk any of you.”

Steve nodded and settled his giggly load on the couch. “I agree. I’ll take good care of them.”

“And I’ll take good care of you,” Missy promised Steve.

“I know you will, my friend. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure and honor,” Missy told him.

“We ready?” I asked, walking over to Candy and Gram. I kissed Gram’s forehead and tucked her hair behind her ears the way she liked it. I wanted her back. I needed her. She deserved to know the truth about my mother.

And I would make sure Clarissa was destroyed so Gram could have her mind and afterlife back.

“I’m ready,” Missy said. “Not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do, but I’m going to let my instincts take over.”

“That’s how I roll,” I said. “So far so good.”

“Everyone relax and don’t fight the magic,” Clarence directed, walking to the middle of the room.

The ghosts were thrilled to go on an adventure. I wasn’t sure if they completely understood what was about to happen, but they were all in. The Tasmanian Devil hovered right next to my father and jabbered away in excitement. I had to admit, it would be a relief not to have the bejesus scared out of me every time I opened a drawer for a little while.

“Close your eyes, Missy. And open your heart,” Clarence said quietly. “Heather, stand behind Missy and brace her, please.”

Heather followed the directions without question. I knew she was worried, but she was also proud of Missy. Missy stood tall and extended her arms, palms up.

My father, the Archangel, waved his hand and the room filled with an enchantment so strong, I found it difficult to breathe. It was the same as when he’d turned my mother’s soul into her ghost form. Shimmering gold flecks rained down from above, creating a sparkling backdrop to the magic that was happening in my living room.

One by one, each ghost morphed into a shimmering soul orb. The enchantment in the air carried them to Missy’s outstretched hands. The only souls that moved as a unit were those of Steve, Emma and Sophia. They were connected and glowed so bright, I had to shield my eyes.

As the soul orbs touched Missy’s skin, they were absorbed immediately. Missy looked like an Angel. The smile on her face as she welcomed each soul in peril was something that would be branded in my mind. The beauty was astounding.

Gram was the last soul in. I’d thought that Steve and the girls’ souls were bright. Gram’s was like a celestial beacon. Even Clarence seemed surprised.

Clasping my hands in front of me, I watched in awe as Missy welcomed Gram in. My best friend had harbored my mother for decades and now she was keeping Gram safe. I could thank her every day for the rest of my life and it would never be enough.

“We are done,” my father said, walking to Missy and checking her.

Missy’s eyes popped open. “Amazing,” she whispered.

“You’re okay?” Heather asked, joining Clarence’s examination.

Missy nodded. “I’m doing what I was meant to do,” she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I feel fantastic… but umm…”

“What?” I asked, scared.

“I’m tired,” she said with a laugh. “I need a nap.”

I checked my watch. “It’s two in the morning. I think we all need a nap.”

“What’s the sleeping arrangement?” Tim inquired.

“Well, I have three guest bedrooms, plus mine,” I told him, opening the front door and waving my mom and Gideon in. “Gideon and I will take my bedroom. Heather and Missy get a room. My mom and dad get one, and you and Candy can share if that’s not too weird.”

Tim looked appalled. “She farts in her sleep,” he whispered, paling.

“You snore,” Candy countered, flipping him off.

Without a word, I walked to the kitchen. Rummaging through the junk drawer, I found exactly what I was looking for. Reentering the family room, I handed Candy Vargo some earplugs and Tim a clothespin. “Will this help?”

“Tremendously,” Tim said. “Thank you.”

Candy just rolled her eyes and accepted the earplugs.

“What time are we expected for lunch?” Tim inquired, testing out the clothespin.

“Noon,” I said. “June and Jennifer will be here at noon.”

“Outstanding,” Tim said. “I will be prepared to hold on to my title.”

“Awesome,” Heather said with a slight gag as she helped an exhausted Missy upstairs.

“Good job, Daisy,” my mother said, kissing my cheek.

“I didn’t do it,” I told her, turning my head so she would kiss my other cheek too. “It was Missy and Dad.”

“It was your idea,” she reminded me. “You are amazing.”

“You’re supposed to say that,” I told her with a laugh. “You’re my mom.”

“And it gives me absurd pleasure to have the opportunity,” she said, as she kissed my other cheek, then floated away.

“She’s right. It was your idea,” Clarence said. He stood in front of me awkwardly… waiting. It was so sweet and kind of sad.

Throwing my arms around him, I kissed his right cheek and then his left. He returned the favor with a smile full of happiness for the moment and regret for all the moments we’d missed.

“Good night, Daisy,” he said, following my mother up the stairs.

“Good night, Dad.”

Gideon came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His touch sent tingles all through me.

“Are you tired?” he whispered in my ear.

“Surprisingly no. Still a little wound up,” I said with a grin. “Are you?”

“I’m not,” he replied silkily.

“Hmm… I wonder what we could possibly do?”

“I have an idea,” he replied, kissing my neck.

“Will I like it?” I asked, turning around so I could see him.

“Have you ever flown before?” he asked.

“On a plane?” I was a little confused.

“No. On the back of a fallen Angel.”

I tingled when he touched me, but the wild offer had my entire body buzzing. “Umm… I’d have to go with a no on that one. I’ve never flown on the back of a fallen Angel.”

“Would you like to?” he asked, tracing my lips with his finger.

Lord have mercy. He was so damn sexy, my knees went weak. Grabbing his arms so I didn’t drop like a sack of potatoes at his feet, I nodded. “As long as the fallen Angel is you, the answer is yes.”

His smile undid me.

He undid me.

As much as the world around me was falling apart, I was the luckiest girl I knew.

Chapter Thirteen

Nothing in my life so far could have prepared me for what it felt like to fly—not even running at the speed of light.

We walked out of my house hand in hand and into an adventure that shouldn’t be possible. But my life was an adventure of the impossible. Embracing the fantastical had become my norm. Surprisingly, the biting cold didn’t affect me. We stood in my front yard under the winter stars and grinned at each other like little kids.

“Do you have a seat belt or something for me?” I asked with a giggle.

“Nope,” Gideon replied as he removed his coat and his shirt.

My breath faltered as I stared at his absurd beauty. “So, umm… are you planning to catch me if I fall?”

Gideon smiled. “You won’t fall,” he promised. “However, I will always catch you if you fall, Daisy. Always.”

“This kind of feels like foreplay,” I said with a shiver of desire.

“It is.”

Gideon’s eyes turned blood red. Shimmering ebony wings burst from his back and a golden glow surrounded him. He looked dangerous and ethereal. A small part of me wanted to skip the flying and tackle him to the ground. I held myself back with effort.

“Does that hurt?” I asked, pointing to his wings. The span had to be six feet and the glowing light made them sparkle. He was a beautiful, deadly winged beast. The Grim Reaper was a sight to behold.

“Not at all,” he replied, extending his hand to me. “Come fly with me.”

The juxtaposition of the light around him mixed with his darkness didn’t surprise me. The Grim Reaper was dark, but he was also good.

Getting on his back was the easy part. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. The heat from his body made me warm all over, and I quickly removed my coat and tossed it to the ground.

“Wait,” I said, unsure. “Will I need my coat?”

“No,” Gideon said. “I’ll keep you warm.”

His words were killing me. I felt giddy and breathless. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest I was sure he could hear it.

“Okay,” I whispered, touching his wings in wonder. They were soft and tickled my fingertips. “This is like a dream.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I don’t know,” I admitted truthfully.

“We’re not even in the air yet,” he pointed out in an amused tone.

I rolled my eyes. “I know that,” I said, pulling on his hair. “It’s just… crazy. It’s like a fantasy. I have no idea what I’ll have left to fantasize about after this.”

Gideon laughed. It was a sound I literally craved. It was an unexplainable need. “You will fantasize about me, Counselor.”

“Already a given, Reaper,” I shot back.

Gideon’s wings expanded even farther with a crack of lightning and a burst of glittering red magic. His skin grew warmer to my touch. A sensation of terrified and excited anticipation skittered down my spine and I clung to him tighter.

While I was positive he would catch me if I fell, I didn’t want to fall off during takeoff. That would be mortifying.

“Have you ever flown anyone before?” I asked, burying my face in his neck.

“No,” he replied. “Until you, I never wanted to.”

I loved his answer. I loved him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready.”

Gideon began to run and in the blink of an eye, we were airborne. I shrieked with delight and felt Gideon’s body shake with laughter underneath me.

“You still good?” he called out as our speed picked up and we raced toward the stars.

“Perfect,” I shouted. “Go higher.” Locking my knees tighter around his waist, I glanced at the ground below. The stars were bright and illuminated the landscape. My house looked like a dot in the distance. The view was breathtaking.

“As you wish.”

We soared up and it felt like my stomach dropped to my toes. I screamed in sheer terror and joy as the wind roared past, tossing my hair and ruffling his wings. Everything below looked like an enchanted fairy tale come to life.

The peace I felt was surreal. The man with red eyes and ebony wings made me feel whole.

“Higher?” Gideon asked.

“Yes,” I said, kissing the back of his neck. “Take me higher.”

We soared so high, the stars were the only traffic in sight. I knew they were millions of miles away, but they seemed close enough to touch.

“Hang on,” Gideon yelled as he shot up even higher, then dipped so low, I was sure we were about to get decapitated by the treetops. We flew at dizzying heights, then swooped down at speeds that made me squeal.

My stomach lurched as if I was on the world’s fastest roller coaster. I held on for dear life. I knew he would catch me if I fell, but I was determined not to. Screaming with wild abandon and delight, I heard Gideon’s laugh.

“Ease up or you won’t have a voice tomorrow,” he advised as he took a less dangerous route and simply glided through the air.

“Don’t care,” I told him. “Worth it.”

We flew for what felt like hours. I was sad when I recognized the terrain below. We were back home. Gideon landed smoothly in my front yard.

Sliding off of his back, I circled him and threw myself into his strong arms. “Thank you,” I whispered against his chest. “That was life-changing.”

“You are life-changing for me,” he said. “I need to make love to you, Daisy. I need it more than I need to breathe.”

I nodded silently and gazed into his glittering red eyes. Taking a page out of his book, I smiled. “As you wish.”

“Is that your wish too?” he asked with hooded eyes and a sexy smirk.

“Always,” I replied as I led him into the house and up to the bedroom. “Always.”

Chapter Fourteen

“June and Jennifer will be here in about twenty minutes,” I said, dusting the mantle.

One of the plusses of having a party was that my house was getting cleaned up. I’d gotten a little lax lately, what with all the hell breaking loose. But something had to give. Dust bunnies were preferable to being six feet under.

“Roger that,” Missy said, coming out of the kitchen with an armload of plates and my good napkins.

“Does it make you feel full?” Tim asked Missy as he vacuumed the living room.

Donna and Karen were attacking the vacuum with glee. Tim was enjoying the game as much as my furballs and vacuumed in zigzag lines to keep them busy.

“Does what make me feel full?” Missy asked, lighting the candles on the coffee table and placing the plates and silverware around the flower arrangement that she’d ordered this morning.

“Having all those people in your stomach,” Tim clarified.

Missy groaned. “I didn’t eat them, Tim. They’re not in my stomach, for the love of everything gross.”

“What kind of asshat are you?” Candy grunted at Tim as she stood in the middle of the living room, unsure what to do.

Candy Vargo wasn’t real good at cleaning. After she’d swept the kitchen floor, she pushed the pile of dirt under the area rug. She was no longer allowed to use the broom. I would be terrified to see the inside of her house.

“I’m a curious asshat,” Tim said, turning off the vacuum and winding up the cord, much to the disappointment of my dogs. “Knowing a Soul Keeper is very new to me. I want to understand. I find it all so thrilling.”

“That’s fair,” Missy said, sitting down on the armchair and admiring her work. “I can’t really tell they’re inside me unless I concentrate.”

“Do the souls control you?” Candy asked, placing a pile of toothpicks next to the flowers. She nodded at the messy pile with satisfaction. She now felt she’d participated in the setup for the girls’ lunch.

“Nope,” Missy said. “I’m still in control of me.”

“It’s not like she’s possessed,” I said, eyeing the toothpicks and wondering if I should remove them. I decided against it. Candy was trying to help. It was appallingly sweet—tacky, but from the heart.

“It’s almost noon,” my mother said, floating down the stairs in excitement. “Gideon and Clarence are upstairs and out of sight. I promise not to speak when the guests arrive.”

“Where’s the food?” Candy asked, looking around.

“Jennifer’s bringing it, and June is bringing cookies,” I told her.

“I should have whipped a little something up,” Tim said, fretting.

“NO,” Heather yelled, then reined it back when she’d realized how loud she was. “Not necessary.”

The memory of Tim’s charred-beyond-recognition cocktail weenies in a blanket from the last girls’ lunch had stayed with everyone.

“Are you sure?” Tim asked, completely missing Heather’s lack of manners. “I’m sure I could find something in Daisy’s fridge to work with.”

I touched his hand. “It’s all good. Jennifer will overdo the food. She always does. Next time.”

Tim nodded. “Then perhaps I shall make a feast for all of us tomorrow.”

“Oh, hell to the no,” Heather whispered as Missy giggled.

“Sounds good,” Candy said, plopping down on the couch and putting her ratty sneaker-clad feet up on the table.

“Feet off the coffee table. Now,” I said, pointing at her. “That’s rude. And… I’m just going to point out that Gram would not be happy with your outfit.”

Donna barked at Candy to let her know she didn’t approve either. Karen just wagged her tail.

Candy looked down at her sweatpants and ripped t-shirt. “Well, shit. You and the dogs are right.”

“Upstairs,” I said. “You can borrow one of my dresses.”

Candy stood up looking like she’d been asked to pull all of her teeth out of her head. “Does it have to be a dress?”

I tried not to laugh. “What would Gram say?”

“Son of a bitch,” she grumbled as she walked to the stairs like she was walking to the guillotine. Since she’d already done the guillotine thing, she should be fine. “I’ll wear a fucking dress. You will take a picture with my phone so I can show Gram when she wakes up. If anyone else snaps a picture, they die. Violently.”

On that note, she stomped up the stairs cussing the entire way. Donna and Karen chased her.

“Umm… Candy Vargo has a looong way to go in the socialization department,” Heather commented.

“She most certainly does,” my mother agreed. “But she pulls at my heart strings. I’ll go help her choose a dress.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said.

“I can see why Gram took her under her wing,” she said, floating up the stairs. “Poor Candy needs some extra love.”

“Well, you come by it naturally,” Heather said, putting a pitcher of lemonade on the coffee table. “You, Gram and your mom all have soft spots for the socially stunted underdogs.”

I shrugged. “Could be worse,” I said with a laugh.

“I used to have a few social issues before Daisy took me under her wing,” Tim announced with pride, oblivious that he was still a social skills hot mess. “I spoke to two people at the grocery last week and made eye contact with a few more. I’m looking for a new hobby that doesn’t involve the collecting of cat hair and I threw out the glass jars filled with my toenail clippings. I haven’t steamed open anyone’s mail in a few weeks, and I’ve delivered almost all of the sex toys that came through the postal service.”

He had a lot more work to do.

“Almost all?” Missy asked with a shake of her head.

Patting Tim on the back, I sighed. “Habits are difficult to break. I’m proud of you.”

Tim preened. “Thank you, Daisy. I’m quite proud of me too.”

“We’re here!” Jennifer yelled, throwing open the door and letting an icy blast of air inside.

“I thought you were getting your hair dyed hot pink,” Heather said.

“Chickened out,” Jennifer said with a grin. “June’s got the cookies, and the food should be here shortly. You arranged the lunch on such short notice that I didn’t have time to cook.”

“You arranged it,” Heather reminded Jennifer, taking the large platter of cookies off June’s hands and giving her a hug.

June was one of my favorite people. She was fifty-seven and happily married to Charlie, who she called the love of her life. The two were besotted with each other. They had four grown adopted kids and a handful of grandkids. She was silly and sweet and the mom figure of our group—even to Jennifer, who was a few years older.

“I’m just so happy to be here and see you all,” June said, making her way around the room and hugging everyone. She even hugged Tim, who stiffened up like he’d been shot. June didn’t let go until he relaxed and hugged her back. “See? That didn’t hurt,” she told him with a chuckle.

“I actually quite enjoyed it,” Tim said, surprised.

“Good.” June winked at him. “I’m a hugger. Get used to it.”

Jennifer pulled a few bottles of wine out of her big purse. “Charlie dropped us off and is gonna pick us up, so I thought we could have a little cocktail or three.”

“Not me,” I said, handing June a glass of lemonade. “It’s noon.”

“Five o’clock somewhere,” Jennifer said, pulling a bottle opener out of her bag. “Plus, Dip’s away at a police retreat. If I tie a tiny one on, I can just go home and sleep it off.”

“Your logic is astounding,” Heather told her.

“Thank you,” Jennifer said with a thumbs up. “I’m good like that.”

“You look just lovely, Daisy,” June said, pinching my cheek. “I take it all is good with you and Gideon?”

I nodded and blushed. Visions of last night popped into my head. While the flying was amazing, what happened afterward blew my mind. The Grim Reaper was a sex machine and I was his very willing partner. I’d done things last night that I’d only ever read about. Honestly, I was surprised I could walk today. Gideon had been wildly smug when we’d woken up. I hadn’t given him any crap about it. He deserved to be smug after giving me eight orgasms. I hadn’t even known that was possible.

June giggled. “I’d say that blush is your answer. I still blush all the time about my sweet Charlie.”

Little did June know that her sweet Charlie was the badass Immortal Enforcer whose eyes turned silver and who could probably blow up my house with a snap of his fingers.

“Charlie is a very lucky man and you two are relationship goals,” I told her.

“Thank you,” June said, hugging me again. “I got myself one of the good guys. He’s been working so much lately, though. I’m a little worried.”

Tim joined the conversation with one of June’s famous peanut butter cookies in his hand. “Saw Charlie the other day when I was delivering mail to the hospital. Looked like it was real busy over there. I heard a lot of docs were out sick.”

June nodded and sighed. “Charlie said the same. I just worry about him. He doesn’t always take care of himself. I’m on his case all the time. Love can make me a little bossy.”

Tim was growing in the social cues department. His light touch and care of June’s feelings were amazing to see. I could feel him staring at me for approval. He was like a damn puppy waiting for a treat.

I patted him on the head, then stole his cookie. June’s peanut butter cookies were legendary.

“Hey,” Tim said, pointing at my stolen sugary treat. “That’s mine.”

“Oh, there’s plenty more,” June said, taking his arm and walking him to the kitchen. “I made ten dozen.”

“I’m gonna get fat,” Missy moaned, enjoying a cookie. “I could eat all of them.”

“Word,” Heather said, munching on her own cookie.

“Don’t eat dessert before lunch. You’ll ruin your dang appetites,” Jennifer said, putting an open bottle of red and an open bottle of white on the table. “I ordered a shitload of food.”

“It’s an appetizer,” Heather said with a grin.

“Fine then,” Jennifer said, pulling a cookie out of her pocket and joining us. “Already ate five on the way over. Where’s Candy Vargo?”

“Upstairs,” I said with a mouthful. “Changing into a dress.”

Jennifer slapped her thigh and laughed. “Is she pissed?”

“Completely,” I said. “She showed up in sweats and I offered to lend her a dress. I’m trying to socialize her a bit. She cussed me out like a sailor with his undies in a knot.”

“Candy Vargo is a good gal,” Jennifer said, pouring herself a big glass of wine. “A little rough around the edges, but I like her. She’s got lady balls.”

“That she does,” I said as Tim and June rejoined us.

“Jennifer,” Tim announced, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. “I would like to officially challenge you to a trivia contest.”

“I was hoping you would say that, Tim,” Jennifer crowed, pulling a thick notebook out of her purse. “I’ve been preparing to kick your ass.”

Tim’s eyes grew wide at the size of Jennifer’s preparation, but he was clearly up for the challenge as he pulled several more sheets of paper from the pocket of his uniform.

I’d tried to get Tim go for a more casual look, but he was most comfortable in his mail carrier outfit. I wasn’t sure if he owned any other clothes. I’d have to look into that.

“Thank heavens we’re not eating yet,” June said, making herself comfortable on the couch and sipping her lemonade. “My stomach has a difficult time with the trivia.”

“Understatement,” Heather said, eyeing Tim and Jennifer warily. “The last trivia contest gave me nightmares for a week.”

“You’re welcome,” Jennifer said with a curtsey and a semi-frozen grin. “Did my face move?”

“A little,” I told her, hoping that was the answer she was searching for.

“That’s good,” she said. “Dip doesn’t want me to get any more Botox. Thinks I’m beautiful like I am.”

“You are beautiful,” Missy said.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but Dip Doody makes me feel like a beauty queen,” she said. “I tell you what, the big dummy is trying to get me to marry him. I keep tellin’ him no, but he’s wearing me down.”

“Do you love him?” Tim asked.

“More than grits,” Jennifer replied with a cackle.

Tim was completely confused. “Is Grits someone you’re seeing on the side? Or an ex-husband perhaps?”

“Hell no,” Jennifer said. “The food—grits. I was making a point.”

“I see,” Tim said with a strained chuckle, still in the dark.

“She loves Dip,” I said quickly before Tim tried to dissect the phrase into something he could comprehend. That could take hours. Pop culture and Southern colloquialisms were a conundrum to my literal buddy.

“Then I see no issue with attaching yourself legally to Dip Doody,” Tim told Jennifer.

“I’ve been divorced a few times,” Jennifer reminded Tim.

“Five,” Heather volunteered.

“Exactly,” Jennifer said. “I suck at marriage.”

“And did you love any of those men like you love grits and Dip Doody?” he inquired.

Jennifer was stunned. Speechless. That was difficult to do, but Tim had major talents even if he didn’t know it.

“Well now, you’ve given me something to ponder, Tim,” she said, still sounding a little shell-shocked by the literal and very simple reasoning Tim had offered up. “But we’re moving on. Did you know that 11,000 Americans injure themselves yearly by trying out bizarre sexual positions?”

June giggled. “And are you one of the 11,000?” she asked Jennifer.

“Darn tootin’,” Jennifer hooted.

“Why am I not surprised?” Heather asked, shaking her head and grinning.

“While that was entirely too much personal information, I have something to add,” Tim said primly, although the twinkle in his eyes belied his tone. “Did you know that Dr. Kellogg introduced Kellogg’s Corn Flakes in hopes that it would reduce masturbation?”

“Shut the front door,” I said. “Seriously?”

“Indeed,” Tim confirmed. “I do not believe he was successful.”

“Nice one,” Jennifer conceded. “The average American’s butt is 14.9 inches long.”

Tim nodded his appreciation of her knowledge but wasn’t backing down. “In a lifetime, the average human produces enough spit to fill two swimming pools.”

“Really didn’t need to know that,” Missy muttered.

“Fascinating,” Jennifer said. “Three-point-nine percent of women don’t wear underwear… including me!”

“Oh my God,” I choked out. “TMI.”

Jennifer just grinned. “It’s true.”

“I’m going to need therapy,” Heather said, biting into another cookie.

“I can tell you about someone who could have used a little therapy,” Tim announced. “The 17th Earl of Oxford came into Queen Elizabeth’s court and bowed so low to her, he let out an enormous fart. The man was so utterly mortified, he went into self-imposed exile for seven years. I’d say he could have used a bit of psychiatry.”

“How did this get to be a thing?” June whispered to me as I sat down next to her.

“Actually, Jennifer has always been full of useless crap. It’s just gotten terrifying since she found a partner in Tim,” I told her.

“At least they’re having fun,” June said, smiling at how excited Jennifer was.

“At the expense of our digestive systems. But yep, they are definitely having fun,” I replied.

“No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver or purple,” Jennifer announced.

“Correct,” Tim shot back. “The dot over the lowercase letter of I and J is called a tittle.”

“What’d you just call me?” Jennifer shouted, slapping her hands on her hips.

Tim got confused and began to wring his hands in distress. “I called you no name.”

“She was playing with you,” I cut in before Tim got too flustered.

He smiled and narrowed his eyes at Jennifer. “I called you a tittle!”

“There you go,” Jennifer said, whacking him on the back. “You’re startin’ to get it.”

Tim grinned from ear to ear. He still looked a bit perplexed, but he was thrilled by Jennifer’s approval. “A blob of toothpaste is called a nurdle.”

“A human head remains conscious for twenty seconds after being decapitated,” Jennifer countered.

“Gross,” Missy said.

“Speaking of, where is Candy Vargo?” Tim asked, glancing around. “It can’t possibly take so long to change into a dress.”

“Don’t know how you got from decapitation to Candy Vargo,” Jennifer said, scratching her head. “But I’m telling you right now, she’s upstairs all pissed off that she can’t wear sweats.”

Tim looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment. At least he didn’t announce that Candy had been voluntarily decapitated to see what it felt like. That might have been an awkward moment.

Heather hopped to her feet and gave Tim a stern look. “I’ll go check on Candy.”

“But you’ll miss all the life-altering facts,” June said, grinning.

“I’ll live,” Heather replied.

“The average woman consumes six pounds of lipstick in a lifetime,” Tim said, jumping back into the game.

“Didn’t need to know that,” I said, picking up a napkin and wiping off my lipstick.

“A pregnant goldfish is called a twit,” Jennifer revealed.

Tim raised his hand.

“Umm… are you waiting to be called on?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, bouncing on his toes. “I believe I have a comeback line for Jennifer.”

“Mmkay,” I said. “Comebacks usually work best when you say them immediately.”

“Oh.” Tim’s chin dropped to his chest. “I didn’t know that part.”

“No worries,” Jennifer said. “I’ll give you a do over. Ready?”

“Yes!”

“A pregnant goldfish is called a twit,” Jennifer repeated.

Tim took a huge breath and let it rip. “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”

“Lordy help us all,” June said, laughing.

The volume of Tim’s comeback, the look of victory on his face and Jennifer’s bellow of laughter made me laugh too. Missy was hiccupping, she was laughing so hard. I freaking loved my friends.

“Must be the food,” June said, hopping to her feet as the front doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

“I already paid and tipped,” Jennifer told June, shaking Tim’s hand. “You done good, boy. Today is yours!”

Missy glanced over at me and blew me a kiss. “This was exactly what we needed.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, wishing my mom had been in the room for the silliness.

And then the nearly perfect afternoon went straight to Hell.

Chapter Fifteen

The crack of lightning and June’s scream of terror made my blood run cold. The sight of June’s body crumpling to the floor with a sickening thud lit me on fire. Diving over the coffee table and racing to June, I cradled her body in my arms. She wasn’t breathing. I felt for a pulse.

There was none.

And there was no one at the door. No food. No delivery person.

Jennifer grabbed her phone and Tim ran to me as an inhuman sound left my throat. “Help me,” I said as I gently lay June’s lifeless body on the floor and began CPR.

“I’m calling 911,” Jennifer shouted, shaking violently.

“No,” Tim said. “They can’t help her.” He pointed out the door to the yard.

I stopped compressions and looked in the direction Tim pointed. My vision blurred with rage for a moment and my breath came in short, furious spurts.

Clarissa stepped out from behind a tree, dangling June’s soul in her hand. “Want this?”

“Stay with June,” I told Tim as I jumped up and sprinted into the yard, fueled by the need to do violence. “Give that to me, you worthless piece of trash,” I growled.

A hundred feet separated us. I was terrified if I went for the batshit crazy Angel, I would harm June. But if I didn’t, there was an even better chance that Clarissa would destroy my dear friend’s soul while I watched.

“You have twenty-four hours to trade me your little friend’s soul for you mother’s,” she snarled, looking more unhinged than I’d ever seen her. “Good luck.”

In another blinding flash of lightning, she disappeared.

“No!” I shouted. My skin felt electric. I was so wired, I wasn’t sure what to do. “June. Have to get back to June.”

Turning and running so fast I was certain I’d disappeared, I dropped to my knees by June.

Jennifer was hysterical now. Tim was trying to hold her back. Missy was at the base of the stairs, shouting for Heather.

“Call Charlie,” I snapped at Tim. “Now.”

Picking up June’s limp body, I carried her to the couch. Within thirty seconds, Charlie appeared in a blast of silver mist, took in June’s state and roared with such naked agony, the house shook on its foundation. Gideon, Heather, Clarence and Candy didn’t bother with the stairs, they transported into the room. My mother floated in and gasped at the horrific scene.

“What the actual fuck?” Candy Vargo snarled. She was wearing my good black dress with her ratty sneakers and her sweatpants. “Clarissa did this?”

“Yes,” I said, trying not to hyperventilate. “She took June’s soul. Says I have twenty-four hours to trade it back for my mother’s.”

“Back up,” Gideon demanded. “Everyone.”

Gideon glanced at Charlie, who nodded jerkily. “Do it,” Charlie said. He sounded like a broken man.

Gideon slashed his arm through the air and spoke in a language I didn’t understand. A gust of frigid wind whipped through the room and cut straight to my bones. Streams of black shimmering magic swirled and covered June like a burial shroud.

“What’s happening?” Missy whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“He’s freezing her,” Tim whispered. “It’s the simplest way to explain it. If we can get June’s soul back within the twenty-four-hour time frame, it can be put back in.”

“And she’ll be alive?” I asked, not quite able to wrap my head around it.

“Remains to be seen,” Tim said.

Quickly looking around, I searched to see if June’s ghost was here. There wasn’t a trace. Was Gideon somehow playing with time? With fate?

“I’m up,” Candy said, joining Gideon.

Karma chanted and sang an eerie melody as June’s body elevated off the couch and floated in the air. In juxtaposition to everything I’d seen of Candy, her voice was the most stunning sound I’d ever heard. The melody touched the deepest part of my soul, even though I couldn’t understand the lyrics. The faster she sang, the colder the room grew. As the pitch of the chant grew higher, crystal tendrils of ice appeared and wrapped their arms around June. She was encased in ice.

“Will she make it?” Heather asked woodenly.

“Depends on many moving pieces,” Clarence said tightly. “There will be no trade. Alana will be no part of this. Am I clear?”

Charlie wouldn’t look at the Archangel. His body shook with fury and his hands shot silver sparks. “I wouldn’t ask for that,” he ground out. “However, I want my wife’s soul back, and I will stop at nothing to get it.”

“What in the ever-lovin’ hell just went down?” Jennifer yelled, holding a bottle of wine in each hand. “People poofin’ in? You all doing voodoo on June’s body? I mean, I know I shouldn’t drink at noon, but I didn’t have that much. This doesn’t make any damn sense. Is June dead? I just don’t understand what the hell is happening.”

She was as pale as a ghost. Tears streamed down her face. She was about to lose it. I’d completely forgotten she was here. I had been focused only on June.

“Fuck,” I muttered. It was the only word that fit. Crossing the room and leading Jennifer to a chair, I eased her into it. “You saw things that you shouldn’t have seen.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she agreed, downing most of the contents in the bottle of red.

Heather joined me and removed the bottle of white from Jennifer’s other hand. “We can make it go away,” Heather told her. “You don’t have to remember any of this.”

“It would be better that way,” Clarence said. “Safer.”

“I agree,” Gideon said. “This is not something others should have to live with. It’s too much.”

“But Jennifer can’t go home,” Tim insisted. “She’s in danger now as well. I won’t let my friend go unprotected.”

“We can protect her and erase the memory,” Heather pointed out.

“Playing God again?” Candy inquired with a disgusted snort. “Did you ever think if Jennifer saw it, she was supposed to?”

Jennifer was truly as white as snow. “Jennifer is sittin’ right here,” she said, raising the bottle of red to her lips and finishing it off. “Not liking the sound of any voodoo being done on me. Is this like Twilight? Are all of y’all vampires?”

“Umm… no,” I said, on the verge of hysterical laughter. It was freak out or laugh at this point.

“Werewolves?” Jennifer tried again. “I read lots of paranormal romance. I’m guessin’ that werewolf is a long shot since none of you sprouted fur.”

“Not werewolves,” I said, unsure what to do.

“I like mermaids,” Jennifer mused aloud, taking back the bottle of white from Heather and throwing back a big slug. “But seeing as how we’re landlocked, I’m gonna go with a no on mermaids.”

“What is happening?” my father asked, wildly confused.

“Not sure,” Candy said. “Never witnessed anything like it.”

“Okay,” Jennifer said, taking another sip. “Shapeshifters? Lions? Bears?”

“No,” Heather said, torn about how to proceed.

“Damn,” Jennifer muttered. “This is kind of hard.”

Jennifer was no longer pale. The color had come back to her semi-frozen face and she was determined to guess what we were.

“Doesn’t this freak you out?” Tim inquired.

“Sure,” Jennifer said. “But did I hear someone say that Clarissa has June’s soul, and if you can get it back from the skank within twenty-four hours, June will live?”

“Yes,” Charlie said, unclear if Jennifer was in shock or just as crazy as the rest of us.

“And that didn’t alarm you?” I asked, awed by my nutty friend.

“Nah. Gives me hope. I plan to save my best friend. June would do the same for me. I guarantee it,” she said, offering me a sip. I took it. “Alarming is waking up and realizing your nipples are pointing at the floor. Or that you missed plucking the hair under your chin that resembles a pube and you went to a Gladiolas Ladies Club meeting. Alarming is when you look for your glasses for an hour and they’re on your dang head. Or when you’re talking on your cell phone and searching for it at the same time.”

“Is she right in the head?” my father asked quietly.

“No more than any of us,” Tim said, coming to her defense. “Jennifer, do you want to remember today?”

She thought about it for a long moment. “Hell yes. If you take it away, I lose my last memories of my best friend. Not that they’re gonna be her last, since we can reanimate June or something like that. Although, I would like to know what the hell you people are. It’s kind of driving me crazy.”

“I’m—” Candy began.

Jennifer held up her hand. “Nope. I wanna guess. And if I get it right, I win.”

“This could take several years,” Gideon muttered, still not comfortable with letting Jennifer remember.

“Umm… we’re in a time crunch here,” I reminded everyone. While making sure Jennifer didn’t end up committing herself was important, it wasn’t a life-or-death situation like June’s.

“She’s quite good,” Tim insisted, needing to make sure Jennifer was truly okay. “Let her try.”

Jennifer sat back in her chair and eyed everyone in the room. “Alrightyroo, I’m a little bummed you’re not vampires, but I can live with that.”

“She’s amazing,” my mother whispered in my ear.

I simply nodded. Jennifer didn’t need more on her plate yet. Ghosts might be even harder to believe… or maybe not.

“Angels and Demons?” Jennifer asked.

My sharp intake of breath made her grin.

“Did I get it?”

“Kind of,” I told her, unable to believe she wasn’t rocking in the corner of the room and babbling. “Close enough.”

“Told ya I’d get it. I read a lot of paranormal shit,” she said, rising and walking over to where June’s body was encased in enchanted ice. She placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

Jennifer’s act of kindness was too much for Charlie. Tears flowed down his cheeks. It was gut wrenching.

“We’ll get June’s soul back,” Jennifer promised. “I know where that ho bag is staying.”

Charlie’s head jerked up and he stared at Jennifer in shock. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“I know where Clarissa is staying,” she repeated. “Saw her going in there the other day. She’s squatting two houses down from me.”

“Squatting?” Gideon asked, not bothering to hide his blood-red eyes.

“Demon?” Jennifer asked, pointing to his eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “Tell me more, please.”

“Nice manners for a Demon,” she told him. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Gideon looked a little gobsmacked by Jennifer. We all were.

“So anyhoo,” she continued. “There’s a house for sale by me. Been on the market for a year. Saw the skank coming out of it twice and figured she was squatting. She looks like Hell warmed over, by the way. Is Clarissa a Demon too?”

“She’s not,” Candy told Jennifer, then gave all of us the stink eye. “There’s a fucking reason for most things in life. If you shitbags had erased Jennifer’s memory, we wouldn’t know where the bitch was hiding. DO NOT SCREW WITH FATE. That’s my job.”

“What are you, Candy Vargo?” Jennifer asked.

“Karma,” Candy replied.

“Love it. Perfect,” Jennifer said. “So, are we ready to go get June’s soul back?”

“Umm… no. We should probably have a plan,” I said, looking over at Gideon, who was still staring at Jennifer like she was a science project that was about to detonate.

“Good thinking,” Jennifer said, kissing the ice casing around June. “Don’t you worry, Juney. You’re gonna be just fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

Charlie turned Jennifer to face him. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “You are an extraordinary human, Jennifer.”

“Aww,” she said, patting his cheek. “That’s what Dip says too. Maybe I am.”

She was. Jennifer was beyond extraordinary.

Jennifer yawned and stretched. “Tim, I’m giving you a clue.”

“You just pandiculated,” Tim told her. “Yawning and stretching at the same time is called pandiculating.”

“Bingo,” she said, giving her buddy a high five. “Daisy, do you have a bed I could borrow for a little cat nap? We have twenty-four hours to find Clarissa, kick her ass and get June’s soul back, right?”

“Right,” I said, realizing she was dead serious about joining us.

“Okay then, I need about a ten-minute nap and then I’ll be ready to save the day,” she informed everyone. “I’m not sure if all you paranormal people actually sleep or not. Seeing as how you’re not vampires—who never sleep, according to Twilight—I’m not certain what your rules are. But I’d suggest a catnap for everyone.”

Everyone was speechless.

“Come with me,” I said, taking her hand in mine and leading her up the stairs. “I love you, Jennifer.”

“Right back at you,” she said with a chuckle. “You a Demon too?”

I laughed. “Nope. Just dating one.”

“Works for me,” she replied.

“Me too.”

Chapter Sixteen

June’s body had been moved upstairs to the room next to where Jennifer was still napping. My eyes and my mind kept drifting to the spot where June had died. The anger boiling up inside me as I kept reliving the moment of Clarissa dangling June’s soul made me feel like I was losing control.

The tension in my living room was high. Charlie was like a ticking time bomb. Everyone was on edge. Everyone here except Missy and my mom had the ability to blow up my house. If we didn’t come together, this could end in an explosion, which would serve no purpose except to make me loose what little I had left of my sanity.

“We have twenty-two hours and thirty minutes,” Charlie snapped, pacing my living room like a caged tiger.

“Going after Clarissa in broad daylight is a risky plan,” Tim pointed out. “While I’m adept at mind wiping humans, that could be problematic. However, I do think a surprise attack would be wise. Waiting for her to come back to Daisy might give her an advantage.”

Candy shrugged and watched Charlie with interest. “We could put up a barrier around the house she’s squattin’ in. No human would be the wiser.”

Gideon leaned against the wall and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Clarissa having June’s soul has complicated the matter tremendously.”

“I’ll second that,” Heather added. “She’s staying in a populated area. While Clarissa doesn’t care about collateral damage, we do—or at least I do.”

“We all do,” Clarence said, eyeing Charlie warily.

Charlie was the loose cannon at this point. I didn’t blame him. If Clarissa got away again, June was a goner, along with Gram’s afterlife. That was unacceptable.

“Okay, let’s think bigger picture here,” I said in an attempt to pull everyone together. The room was filled with enormous egos and working as a team didn’t necessarily seem like their forte.

Candy Vargo shoved a toothpick in her mouth and cleared her throat. “I have a plan.”

“Shit,” Heather muttered. “This should be horrifying.”

Candy flipped Heather off. “Hear me out. Alana goes back to her soul form. We send Clarence, Daisy, Missy, and Alana in as bait. Daisy acts like she’s gonna make a trade. Gideon, Tim, Charlie, Heather and I will surround the house and put up a barrier since it’s probably gonna fucking explode at some point. As soon as you have June’s soul, Clarence will do his choke-the-shit-out-of-you magic and turn Alana and June into ghosts. Missy eats them and they’re safe. We get Missy the hell out, then Clarence kills the shit out of Clarissa. We can run interference and fuck her up good. Good time had by all.”

“Horrifying doesn’t even begin to describe that,” Heather said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“That’s not exactly a sound plan, Candy Vargo” I said, doing my best to sound reasonable. As appalling as her idea was, we needed Candy, and I didn’t want her getting butthurt and bailing on us. Although with Gram’s afterlife in peril, I was pretty sure Candy wasn’t going anywhere. “Missy is human and she doesn’t eat people. And my mom is going nowhere near Clarissa.”

“Right,” Candy conceded. “My bad.”

“That is not a strategy,” Gideon said, narrowing his eyes at Candy. “That is a suicide mission for Daisy, June, Alana and Missy. Have you lost your damn mind?”

Candy flicked her toothpick at Gideon. “Screw you. You have anything better, Reaper?”

Gideon simply stared at her and said nothing.

“Didn’t think so,” Candy said.

“Clarissa has no plans to return June’s soul,” Charlie said. “Which is why no one but me is going after her.”

“Not so fast,” Clarence warned.

“What would you do?” Charlie demanded of my father. The Enforcer’s eyes blazed silver as he held back his rage and pain with extreme effort. “What would you have done if you’d been given the chance to save Alana?”

The Archangel was silent.

“Answer me,” Charlie snarled.

“The same as you,” Clarence admitted, glancing over at my mother with a sad smile.

“That’s correct. You would have done the same,” Charlie said flatly. “Did I know there would come a time when I would have to live on without June? Yes. Yes, I did. But it was not to have ended like this. And quite honestly, I’m willing to go down for her or with her. The cost of freeing June from that abomination will be worth whatever price I have to pay.”

“Not as easy as you think, Enforcer,” Candy told him. “Might just land yourself in lockdown for eternity.”

“As long as June can live out her natural life, I will take the punishment,” he shot back.

Every head in the room swiftly whipped to the front door as footsteps were heard approaching. The sound of the doorbell made everyone tense up except Tim.

“Would she seriously try a second time? Exactly the same way?” Missy whispered.

“No,” Tim said, calmly rising and walking to the front door. “It’s lunch. I’d suggest we eat it. Jennifer already paid for it and I’m hungry. Plus, brains work better with food in the stomach.”

Gideon, Clarence, Heather and Charlie quickly flanked Tim as he looked though the peephole, then opened the door. The poor kid on the other side blanched in terror when he saw the people staring daggers at him.

“Umm… you ordered some food?” he choked out, holding four large bags.

“We did,” Tim said, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket and handing it to the terrified young man. “Thank you.”

“I was already tipped,” he said, trying to hand the money back.

Tim refused it and waved his hand over the boy’s head. “Keep it.”

Tim took the bags, closed the door and put them on the coffee table. Rummaging through the contents, he pulled out a sandwich and clasped it to his chest. “Turkey Reuben! My favorite.”

I watched as Tim carefully unwrapped his sandwich and took a huge bite. “What did you do to that boy?”

“It simply wouldn’t do to have him go back to work and tell everyone that he was stared down by men with glowing red, gold and silver eyes and a woman with living tattoos. Might cause gossip or get the poor boy fired. So, I wiped the visual,” Tim replied with a mouthful.

“Smooth,” Candy Vargo said, digging into the bag. “All you dumbasses need to watch your step. My plan might have sucked ass, but we need to remember… not only are we dealing with a deranged whack job, we’ve got four fucking uninvited Angels roaming around town. Angels are batshit crazy. Sorry, Clarence.”

“No need to be sorry. The truth is the truth,” my father replied.

“Wait. That might be it,” I said, running to the foyer closet and grabbing the book from the pocket of my coat. “We need to find those Angels. Clarissa destroyed Mike and Anna. She’s a dead Angel walking when we tell them.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Gideon said darkly. “The Angels came unbidden and haven’t officially made their presence known. It could be a setup.”

“But it might not be,” I told Gideon. “Candy said there are few mistakes in life.”

“Sure did,” Candy agreed, opening a container of spinach artichoke dip and eating it with a spoon.

“The Angels went to Missy’s shop and left a book. I found the book—a book I shouldn’t be able to read, but I can,” I said, getting excited. “I mean, I can’t actually read it, but I recognize some of the words. I think they left it there for me to discover. It feels connected—fated.”

“Interesting. It might be a code,” Tim said, making short work of the rest of his sandwich and pulling a pen and a notebook from his pocket.

“This is nuts,” Charlie said. “A ridiculous waste of time that we cannot afford.”

“Agreed,” Clarence said, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head.

“No,” I said, glaring at the two men. “What would be nuts is to ignore anything that could lead somewhere.”

“Like a dead end?” Charlie ground out, frustrated. “Daisy, with all due respect, I know you love June as much as she loves you. I’m aware that Gram’s afterlife is in danger. But you are forty years old—a mere baby. We are thousands of years old. The disparity of knowledge in the room is vast. I can’t risk you playing amateur detective when June’s life is on the line.”

“Back off, Charlie,” Gideon snapped.

I held up my hand. “Gideon, most of Charlie’s points are legitimate. I love you, but I’ve got this. Cool?”

He raised a brow and a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “Cool,” he replied.

“So, Charlie, you believe dying for June—if dying is even a possibility for you—or getting thrown in Immortal prison is the best way?” I demanded. “You think an eye-for-an-eye bullshit is going to make her happy? Your death would destroy June as much as her death is destroying you. And how would we explain it to her? Whoops June! Sorry, but your husband—who’s a gazillion years old, has silver eyes and can blow up cities with his sparking fingers—got busted for killing Clarissa, who is a gazillion and five. But the good news is that we got your soul back, shoved it inside you while you were frozen in a block of ice that Gideon, who happens to be the Grim Reaper, and Candy, who is in charge of fate—if you can believe that shit—created while singing a really pretty song in a dead language. I’m pretty sure there are no visiting hours at the Immortal pokey, but no worries. You can hang out with me. I talk to dead people.”

“You’ve got a nice fucking way with words, girlie,” Candy said with a chuckle. “If I take off my sneakers, can I put my feet on the table?”

“No. You’re gonna learn some manners even if it kills me.” I closed my eyes and groaned. “Poor choice of words.”

“Not to worry, Daisy. You need to eat,” Tim said, finding a salad in the bag and handing it to me. “There’s no meat on this. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

Tim nodded and patted my back. “Welcome. I found your story quite graphic and well-told. Hearing it aloud was thrilling. It was outstanding proof that Charlie’s plan is as craptastic as Candy Vargo’s. I had hoped to hear my own name in the colorful tale, but maybe next time. Could that be arranged? Maybe throw in a few vampires in honor of our friend Jennifer?”

“Umm… sure,” I said, shaking my head and shoving a cucumber slice into my mouth.

Charlie was stewing, but he didn’t look as certain as he had only moments ago.

His uncertainty made me bold. I was going with my gut the same way I had when I’d transported Missy out of her shop. The same way I had created the iron prisons. The same way I’d rolled when I was helping my ghosts… by the seat of my pants. “Maybe there’s a reason I’ve become some kind of freak of nature—maybe it’s fated. Candy is right off of her damn rocker and has no manners, but she made some excellent points. If all of you, with your years of Immortal wisdom, had wiped Jennifer’s memory, we wouldn’t know where Clarissa was hiding.”

“Thank you,” Candy said. She’d moved on to mini quiches and was watching the show play out in front of her with her crappy sneakers propped on my coffee table.

“Welcome, and what did I tell you about that?” I said, walking over and knocking her feet to the floor.

“Daisy is correct,” Gideon said, watching me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. I hoped it was pride, but I didn’t have time to figure it out.

“And maybe I don’t have a footprint because my power is temporary,” I went on. “Maybe I only have it for a short period of time so we can save June—save Gram—make Clarissa pay for murdering Steve and my mother. Did you ever consider that?”

“Lady balls,” Missy said, giving me a thumbs up.

“My daughter is brilliant,” my mom added, blowing me a kiss.

“Thanks,” I said, grateful two people were on my side, even if one was a ghost and the other was human. “Look, I’m not sure how to go about this any more than you guys are. But, if the Angels are here for this tribunal thing, then it would be a pretty clean way to end it all. If they take her out, we don’t have to. They’re already aware of what she did to Steve, right?”

“Yes,” my father said. “That crime alone is punishable by loss of title, power and Immortality.”

“Be more specific about the loss of Immortality part, please,” I said, grabbing a sandwich and sitting down next to Candy so I could keep her feet off my table. The salad wasn’t doing it for me.

“Not following,” my father said.

“I am,” Gideon cut in. “Clarissa’s loss of Immortality doesn’t mean her total destruction. The punishment for the reported crime of causing Steve’s death and damning him unjustly to the darkness doesn’t include execution. The punishment wouldn’t save Gram. However, the destruction of Mike and Anna—not to mention killing June and taking her soul—would mean she could be ended by the potential jury that is already here.”

“Perfect,” I said, unwrapping the sandwich and realizing it was a BLT. I didn’t do pig. I’d fallen in love with piglets at the state fair years ago and had sworn off bacon for good. Handing the sandwich to Candy, I ate a cookie instead. “I have another question.”

“Ask,” Gideon said, sitting down next to me.

His presence gave me strength. His belief in me made me bolder. Gideon’s love made me even more powerful. He was wary of the direction I was headed, but he wasn’t dismissive like Charlie and my father. He had my back.

“How easy is it to take an Immortal’s power—to make them human?” If she was human, I could destroy her. If the Angels balked because of lack of proof, I would end her myself. I wanted to punch myself for not searching Emma or Sophia’s memories when I was with them, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. I knew I could get the proof, but that would take time I wasn’t sure we had right now. I would cross each bridge as I came to it. The main objective was to get June’s soul back, then destroy Clarissa. If we had help, it would be a hell of a lot easier.

“Very complicated to strip an Immortal of power,” Clarence answered. “It is a species- specific procedure—meaning only Angels can take the Immortality of other Angels. Demons can take from other Demons.”

“Dammit to Hell, that also goes for destruction,” Charlie shouted, punching a hole in my wall. “I couldn’t destroy her even if I wanted to… and I do want to.”

“What is he talking about?” I asked anyone who would answer.

Tim, the Immortal font of knowledge, was always there for me when I needed him, “Charlie seems to have forgotten that the total extermination of an Immortal is also species-specific. Although, he can’t be blamed. It’s so rare it’s almost unheard of. In my lifetime, I haven’t witnessed the obliteration of an Immortal of any species.”

“And only seriously badass Angels can pull that shit off on someone like Clarissa,” Candy commented, putting her feet back up.

I knocked them off again. “I’m a little lost. I get that my dad is an Angel and Gideon is a Demon, but what the heck are the rest of you guys?”

“Immortals,” Charlie said, looking like he wanted another go at my wall. “Non-specific Immortals.”

“So, no one can take your Immortality?” I questioned.

“Nope,” Candy said. “Most of the Immortal world is made up of asshole Angels and jackwad Demons. There are very few of us who are simply Immortal.”

“And those of us who are, have jobs that span the realms between the darkness and the light,” Tim added, chowing down on his second Turkey Ruben. “So, Charlie is technically safe going after Clarissa even though he can’t end her.”

“We don’t need the mysterious Angels,” my father said.

“I think we do,” I countered, sticking with my gut.

He sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose. “This is not a common occurrence among our kind. Total extermination could take time. The tribunal could take time.”

June had less than twenty-four hours. If it took longer to get the Angels together to pass judgement and dole out punishment, we were screwed. “How much time are we talking?” I asked.

My father paused, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Not the answer I wanted, but the vague answer could be in our favor. Total extermination could take a decade or a minute. I was staying positive.

Charlie glanced down at his watch. “We have twenty-two hours and three minutes.”

“Give me one hour,” I said. “Let me see if there’s a message in the text.”

My father glanced at Charlie, who reluctantly nodded his assent. The Archangel’s gaze passed over all the other Immortals in the room, who also nodded. “Fine,” he said. “One hour.”

“After the hour is up, I take matters into my own hands,” Charlie warned.

“Hey y’all,” Jennifer called out, coming down the stairs with Donna and Karen trotting happily behind her. “Me and the dogs had a nice little nap. Are we ready to kick some supernatural ass?”

Before anyone could tell Jennifer that she wasn’t coming with us, I chimed in. Jennifer was here for a reason. She’d told us where Clarissa was hiding. Maybe she was here for more than one reason.

“Come sit by me,” I told her, patting the couch. “Eat something. The food is great.”

Jennifer looked around the living room. Not one person had food in front of them except Candy, Tim and me.

“Everybody, dig in,” she instructed, slapping her hands on her hips. “I paid an arm and an asshole for the dang spread. Troops can’t go into battle on empty stomachs. EAT!”

Without argument, we did. Jennifer might be tiny, but she was mighty… and bossy.

I was still in shock at how easily she’d accepted the insanity.

Maybe the insanity wasn’t insane at all.

Although with everything that had happened, it more than likely was.

Chapter Seventeen

“That’s not Sumerian,” Gideon said, squinting at the text in confusion.

“That’s my bad,” Missy said, sitting at the kitchen table with us and staring at the pages in the small leatherbound book. “I compared it to another book in the shop and thought it was the same.”

“I did too,” I told her. “Dude, all of the dead languages look the same to me.”

We’d moved from the living room to the kitchen. The light was better. Charlie’s mood was going south with each minute he felt was being wasted, but everyone else was calm and focused.

Gideon carefully flipped the pages and continued to try to ascertain what he was seeing. “It’s like a bastardized form of Sumerian or an entirely different language. Clarence, thoughts?”

My father stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. It was a wonderful feeling. My mother floated next to him. “I’m in agreement with Gideon. I can’t read it. I don’t recognize the language.”

“Is that odd?” I asked. “There must be languages you don’t know, right?”

“Wrong,” Heather said, sounding stressed. “Even if Clarence hadn’t seen it before, he should be able to read at least some of it. Gideon too.”

I twisted my hair in my fingers and took in the surprising news. “Then what does it mean that words popped out to me?”

Candy sat on the kitchen counter. At least her feet were dangling off of it. I would have knocked her off if she’d been sitting cross-legged. “Means it’s meant for you—fated so to speak.”

My stomach tightened. Everything was indeed happening for a reason. I just hoped that the Angels hadn’t come to off my ass instead of Clarissa’s.

“I don’t like this at all,” Gideon said. “Feels more and more like a trap or a sick game.”

My father nodded his agreement as he continued to study the unfamiliar text.

“We’re wasting precious time,” Tim said, passing around a plate of June’s cookies. “It’s neither here nor there that Clarence and Gideon can’t interpret what is written. Swallow your egos for a moment.”

“This has nothing to do with egos,” Gideon snapped at Tim.

“I beg to differ,” Tim replied, unruffled by Gideon’s tone. “Daisy can read some of it. Why don’t we listen to what she has to say?”

My father gently squeezed my shoulders. “Tim is correct.”

“As usual,” Tim chimed in smugly.

Ignoring the side chatter, my father continued. “Tell us what you can make out, Daisy.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Glancing down at the text, my stomach dropped. It was all scribbles—no words. “What the heck?” I muttered in alarm as I quickly began to turn the pages.

“What?” Jennifer asked. She’d been quietly watching everything since she’d come down. It was a rare event for Jennifer to be silent, but stranger things were happening.

“I can’t read it now,” I whispered, turning the book upside down and wondering if that would make a difference.

It didn’t.

“Gimme that,” Jennifer said, holding out her hand.

With all of the crazy, I half-expected her to be able to read it. I handed it over and she skimmed through it. Holding my breath, I waited.

“Just a bunch of doodles,” Jennifer said. “I bet Edward could read it.”

“Who is Edward?” Charlie asked, confused.

“From Twilight,” Jennifer said. “Sparkly vampire. Made a career out of going to high school. He’s very smart.”

I hoped she was joking, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t.

“Edward is a fictional character,” I pointed out.

“Maybe,” Jennifer conceded. “But until this afternoon, I would have thought all of you were fictional characters. So, I say we don’t rule out vampires. You feel me?”

“Umm… sure,” I said.

“So, anyhoo,” Jennifer went on, unaware of Charlie’s growing tension or the glances exchanged between the Immortals. “I say we need to backtrack.”

“Backtrack?” my mother asked. She was one of the few who wasn’t going to count Jennifer out yet. Only problem was, Jennifer couldn’t hear her.

“Backtrack?” I repeated.

“Yep, Jessica Fletcher wouldn’t give up. She’d go back to the scene of the crime and look for clues.”

“Who is Jessica Fletcher?” Charlie demanded, very close to losing it. “Another vampire?”

“Nope. A detective, and a very good one,” Jennifer explained.

“She’s fictional,” Heather pointed out, wanting to indulge Jennifer on the off chance she actually had something insightful to add, but aware that the clock was ticking.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jennifer said. “I’m pretty sure she was based on a real person.”

“Did you read that somewhere?” Tim asked. “I loved that show.”

“Access Hollywood,” Jennifer confirmed.

Heather groaned and Missy laughed. I was with Missy. It was either laugh or add another hole to the wall next to the one Charlie had made.

“Jennifer,” I said, keeping my voice light and positive. “If this actually has a point, it would be terrific if you could get to it. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Where were you when you could read the book?” she asked.

I was floored. She might have nailed it. “The bookstore.” I jumped to my feet. “I was in Missy’s shop.”

“Get your ass back to the shop and see if you can read it there,” Jennifer suggested. “Stitch all the clues together like Miss Marple.”

“Another fictional character?” Charlie asked, a tiny bit calmer.

“Possibly,” Jennifer said. “I think Agatha Christie actually knew the real Miss Marple and changed her name to protect her from the paparazzi in England. Those Brit rags are vicious. I love those trashy magazines.”

I was beginning to wonder if all of the Botox and filler Jennifer had gotten shot into her head had damaged her brain. However, her point was solid and we had very little to lose by trying it out. Actually, we had a tremendous amount to lose if it amounted to something and we didn’t try it.

“I’m going to the bookstore,” I said. “Maybe the Angels will pay a visit.”

“I’m coming with you,” Gideon announced.

“Nope,” Candy said, pointing a toothpick at him. “Angels aren’t gonna show up if a Demon is there.”

“Fine point. Well made,” Tim agreed. “Send Heather with Daisy. She was with her on the original trip and she has Angel in her DNA. I’d suggest Clarence stay here and protect Missy, Jennifer and Alana. If the Angels haven’t let their arrival be known to the Archangel, there’s a reason.”

“Quick question,” Jennifer said.

We all waited.

“Who in tarnation is Alana?”

I laughed. So did my mom. “You ready for more fiction that’s not fiction?” I asked her.

“Hit me,” Jennifer said with a grin. “I’m hopin’ Alana is a vampire.”

I shook my head and laughed. “No, Alana is my mother. She’s a ghost. I’m a Death Counselor. I help the dead move on.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jennifer said, slapping the table. “Much better job than being a paralegal! Hi Alana.” Jennifer waved in the opposite direction of my mom.

It didn’t matter. Jennifer was a wonder.

“Tell her I say hello and it’s lovely to meet her,” my mom said, delighted.

“My mom say’s hi and it’s lovely to meet you,” I relayed.

“Back at her,” Jennifer said. “I’m not even sad that she’s not a vampire.”

Tim laughed, then got the discussion back on track. “Is the plan working for everyone thus far?”

“Candy Vargo is correct about no Demons. And Tim is wise in advising Clarence to stay back,” Charlie said. His ire was gone, replaced with an expression of a man who saw a glimmer of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. The sparking of his hands was a little scary, but the tone of his voice was promising. “I’ll stay back as well, ready to move at any time. I’ll be backup—not my norm, but I’m beginning to see the bigger picture,” he finished off, repeating what I had said earlier and lightly touching the top of my head in gratitude.

“I’m going into town,” Gideon said in a manner that dared anyone to contradict him. “I’ll cloak myself and stay out of the shop, but Daisy needs more protection than just Heather.”

Gideon’s attack was pointed and precise. It clearly cut Heather like a knife. His words were a direct warning to her, and she didn’t challenge him. She inhaled deeply and nodded curtly.

“I agree,” Heather acknowledged.

“Dang,” Candy said, hopping off the counter. “I was hoping you would have punched him.”

“Zip it, Vargo,” I said. “We’re on the same team.”

“Speaking of teams,” Tim continued. “I shall do my part. I’m going to hack into real estate records and get the layout of the house that Clarissa is hiding in. It could come in handy.”

“I’ll stay back,” Candy said. “Angels hate my ass.”

“And with good reason,” Tim said with a shudder.

“Do I want to know why?” I asked.

“Absolutely not,” Gideon warned, clearly on a mission to save me from my curiosity.

“Let me put it this way,” Tim said. “Have you ever had a nightmare that stayed with you?”

“I have,” I replied warily, thinking Gideon might be right.

“Compound it by infinity and relive it every waking second,” Tim said cryptically. “Shall I get more specific?”

“Nope,” I said, holding up my hands. “I’m good.”

“And smart,” Gideon added.

“Getting there,” I shot back. “Does anyone think the Angels will actually show up?”

“Not sure,” Clarence said. “We don’t know if they’re still here. However, if a message was left in the book, we need to know.”

“If they do show up, let them know Karma’s in town,” Candy said with a wink. “Might put the fear of God into those assholes.”

“Pun intended?” Tim inquired with a raised brow.

Candy gave Tim a thumbs up. “Absofuckinglutely.”

* * *

“Should we turn the Closed sign to Open?” Heather asked, flicking on the lights in the bookstore.

“I’m going with no,” I told her. “The last thing we need are innocent people in the shop if the Angels show up.”

“Right,” she said, staying close to me while her eyes roamed the store.

“Heather?”

“Yep?”

I glanced around to make sure no one had poofed in. The fact that the action felt normal almost made me laugh. Almost. “Are Angels really as awful as everyone says?”

I could tell Heather was considering her answer. I didn’t have time for that.

“Truth,” I insisted.

“In my experience, they haven’t been my favorites,” she admitted. “Clarence is an anomaly. Although, I think it was falling in love with your mother that changed him for the better.”

“So, they’re all batshit crazy like Clarissa?” I asked.

Heather shook her head. “No. Imagine someone landing halfway between Clarence and Clarissa, but lean more toward Clarissa.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.

“It is what it is. Facts are hard to dispute or change,” Heather said with a shrug. “Let’s see if you can read the book here. I say we stick to our plan and amend it if we have to. What ifs are a waste of time we don’t have.”

She pulled out a pen and notebook that looked suspiciously like Tim’s. I detected a mist of shimmering glitter rising from it when she put it on the counter.

“Is that alive?” I asked, squinting at it.

Heather grinned. “You are blowing my mind on a regular basis, little sister,” she said, shaking her head. “Your skills are mad. It’s not alive, but Candy dropped a spell on it. Whatever I write on the pad will be telegraphed back to Tim and Candy.”

“That’s kind of badass cool,” I said.

“As repulsive as Candy Vargo can be, she does have her moments,” Heather admitted, clicking the pen. “Give it a shot.”

Opening the book, I scanned the pages.

Nothing.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Relax,” Heather said in a hypnotic whisper. “Open your mind, Daisy. See what’s between the lines.”

I shivered as I glanced over at her. Her skin danced with the most beautiful tattoos. It was eerie and breathtaking.

Leaning over the book, I tried again. I could do this. I had to do this.

Again, nothing.

“Can you hear me?” Gideon asked.

I jumped. He’d spoken in my mind earlier, but he was touching me at the time.

“I can,” I replied.

“Can what?” Heather asked, confused.

“Gideon’s talking to me.”

Heather looked around the store.

I pointed to my head. “In my mind.”

Her mouth dropped open then she wrote down what was happening on the pad. “Listen to him,” she urged. “Wait. Can he hear you?”

I nodded. “I think so. Gideon, I hear you. Do you hear me?”

“I do.” I detected the smile and the surprise in his voice. “I was unsure if this would work from a distance.”

“It’s working,” I told him. “But I can’t read the text. I don’t know why.”

“What did I tell you in the field?”

I remembered it word for word. “You said, sometimes what we see is not the truth. Deprivation of senses can strip away the obvious and lead you to the objective.”

“Bingo, Daisy. You have gifts that are unheard of. Use them,” he said as his voice faded away.

“Gideon?” I whispered. “Gideon?” There was no answer. “He’s gone.”

“No, he’s across the street,” Heather reminded me. “The connection just got cut. PS, that was insane by the way. I’ve never seen that happen.”

“Gideon’s powerful,” I said.

Heather stared at me for a long moment. “And so are you. Take his advice, Daisy. Time is going to run out faster than we want it to.”

She was right. Gideon’s advice wasn’t exactly black and white. I repeated it in my head. Sometimes what we see is not the truth. Deprivation of senses can strip away the obvious and lead you to the objective.

It was like a riddle. Riddles weren’t really my thing, but today they would have to be. I had no choice.

Placing my hand on the open page, I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see it with my eyes open, I could see it with my eyes closed.

The book hissed and tried to close on my hand. I slapped my other hand on top of it and held it in place. An intense tingling shot straight up my arms. It felt like an electrical fire under my skin. With a sharp intake of breath, I kept my hands placed firmly on the pages. No pain. No gain. I just hoped that my blood wasn’t actually on fire.

I could literally feel Heather’s concern even with my eyes closed, but she stayed silent. I figured if I went up in flames, she would put out the fire. She was my sister. That’s what sisters with farked-up powers did for each other. I hoped.

The words came fast and spilled out of me. I felt queasy and light-headed, but I refused to pull my hands away. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears. The words I spoke even more so. “Out with the old. In with the new. Strange happenings are on the horizon. Paths will converge and truths shall be revealed. The future lies in the deadly hands of one. Choices will be made. Who makes the choices and what choices are made remain to be seen.”

The burning sensation under my skin disappeared as quickly as it began. My hands were still on the book and my eyes were still closed.

“Is there more?” I asked out loud.

“Are you talking to me or are you reading?” Heather whispered.

“I’m talking to the book,” I told her.

“Got it.”

I laughed. Our conversation was absurd. Slowly opening my eyes, I peeked over at her. Her skin still danced with goddess-like images and her grin was wide.

“Did you write all that down?” I asked, carefully removing my hands from the book just in case the heat had melted my skin to the pages.

“I did,” she said. “Do you know what it means?”

“Umm… I was kind of hoping you would,” I told her.

“Not a clue,” she admitted, looking down at what she’d written. “Hopefully, Clarence or Gideon might have some insight.”

“Or Jennifer,” I said with a giggle. “Her batting average has been outstanding lately.”

“Maybe vampires are going to take over the world,” Heather said with a grin.

“I just hope they’re sparkly,” I said, tucking the book back into my pocket. “You ready to go back to my house?”

“Very ready,” she replied, walking over to the wall to turn out the lights.

The change was so subtle, I didn’t notice that anything had happened. The lights never went out. No wind blasted through the room. No lightning. No breaking glass. No shimmering magic. Barely a sound.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life.

But they knew that. And I was pretty damn sure they enjoyed it immensely.

Chapter Eighteen

Four Angels stood six feet away from me—two men and two women. They were stunning to behold, but I was very aware that looks were wildly deceiving. They were dressed normally—like humans. The men wore jeans, Henley shirts and work boots. The women also wore jeans, fitted turtleneck sweaters and Doc Martens. They might be trying to fit in with the human world, but they stood out like sore thumbs. Their beauty was ridiculous. All were blond with golden eyes so bright, it was difficult to look straight at them. It was like staring into the sun.

Strangely, I didn’t feel like I was in mortal danger, but I certainly didn’t feel safe.

They observed me in silence. I observed them right back.

There was no barrier that I could detect—no haze of any color around the room. I took the risk of looking away from them and glanced quickly at Heather. She was frozen mid-step. Her hand was extended toward the light switch, but not a muscle moved. While her body seemed to be in stasis, the expression on her face was a mix of horrified shock and fury.

“Is she in pain?” I demanded of the Angels. “Are you hurting her?”

No one answered.

That wasn’t going to work for me. “I asked you a question,” I snapped.

The woman in the front tilted her head and smiled. “Bold.”

“Caring,” the other woman said with a sniff of distain.

“Sign of weakness,” one of the men commented.

“Don’t be so sure,” the other man warned. “One man’s weakness is another man’s strength.”

They still hadn’t answered me. If they were somehow harming Heather, that had to stop. “Sexist much?” I asked, wondering briefly if the size of my lady balls was going to get me incinerated to ash. It didn’t matter. If their plan was to end me, I had nothing to lose. “I’m a woman, not a man. And just so you know, I consider caring to be a strength. But we seem to be missing the point here. Are you hurting my friend?”

Surprised glances were exchanged. One of the females approached Heather. Cupping Heather’s cheek in her hand, she used her other hand to gently close Heather’s eyes.

“She is not being harmed,” the woman said, examining Heather with curiosity. “We would not do that to her.”

I had no clue as to why, but I wasn’t going to push it. It felt like they were telling the truth.

“What did you do?” I asked. “Why is she frozen?”

I expected Gideon to burst through the door at any second. I wasn’t sure that would be a good thing, though. They had come to talk to me. That much was clear.

The woman with disdain for my concern of Heather smiled. If she was trying to be friendly, she failed. Her smile was terrifying. “We stopped time. Didn’t want any interruptions.”

Well, so much for Gideon saving the day. I was on my own.

“Nifty trick,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. Showing weakness or fear wasn’t going to work. I felt it in my gut. If they could stop time, there was no telling what else they could do. I really didn’t want to find out.

I needed them. I had no idea why they wanted to talk to me, but maybe I could leverage it and get what I wanted. Or maybe I was going to die.

Only one way to find out.

“If you’ve come for Clarissa, I know where she is,” I said.

“We know where she is, Daisy,” one of the men said.

“Seems like you have me at a disadvantage here,” I said flatly. “You know my name but I don’t know yours.”

“That’s not the only disadvantage you face, Daisy,” the woman standing near Heather said with a laugh that made my skin crawl.

“Correct,” I said, hoping to appeal to their logical nature if they had one… or their violent nature, which was very obvious. “I am assuming you’re here for the tribunal of Clarissa. The situation has changed.”

“Has it?” the other woman purred condescendingly. “How so?”

I wanted to slap her, but that would end badly and I wasn’t a violent gal. However, the woman’s manners were appalling.

Sucking up my desire to smack the smirk off of her face, I stayed focused on my end goal. What would feel satisfying in the moment could put me six feet under in the long-range plan. Winning was the only option. The lives of people I loved were on the line.

“The Angel of Mercy destroyed two ghosts—punishable by execution, I’ve been told,” I said, watching closely for reactions. “She also murdered my friend and took her soul. She’s trying to exchange it for the soul of my mother, who she murdered thirty-five years ago in a fit of jealous rage.”

“You don’t say,” one of the men said.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. If I was going to die, it was already set. I was going down as me. My last moments weren’t going to be spent cowering.

“I do say,” I shot back, glaring at him. My anger rose. Games were wasting time that I didn’t have. They might have frozen time, but it could be marching on right outside the door. If messing with me was their goal, I wasn’t playing. “Cryptic bullshit isn’t going to fly. Clearly, you want something from me. I want something from you. We can make a deal or you can leave. I’m on a tight schedule. You feel me?”

The outraged and astonished looks exchanged between the Angels didn’t bode well for living to see tomorrow, but I was riding on my instincts. I expected to be blown to bits.

What I didn’t expect was laughter. Apparently, I was hilarious. Who knew? Their laughing made me grind my teeth, but I kept a pleasant expression on my face. I needed to get comfortable with expecting the unexpected. It would be less jarring.

“My name is Pravuil,” the nicer—nice being a relative word—of the two women said. “I go by Prue.”

“I am Abathar,” the other woman said. “I go by Abby.”

“Raphael,” one of the males announced. “I answer to Rafe.”

“And I am Gabriel,” the last one said. “I go by Gabe.”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but we all know it’s not. And while manners are important, the truth is far more crucial right now,” I said. “Why do you want to talk to me. What do you want?”

Prue shrugged. “No reason. Just curious.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Not buying it.”

“Don’t care,” she replied coldly. “Did you get the message from the book?”

I nodded.

“Told you she would,” Rafe said, eyeing the others in annoyance. “You underestimated her.”

Abby growled at him. “Your faith in her is inspiring,” she hissed.

“And what did it say?” Prue inquired casually.

There was nothing casual about her question. It took effort to keep my jaw from dropping. They didn’t know what was in the book. It seemed that they couldn’t read the language any better than my father or Gideon could. What the hell language was the book written in? And who wrote it?

And why did it speak to me?

Sizing them up, I realized I only had one ally here—Rafe. And he didn’t seem particularly reliable. Prue and Abby looked like they ate people for breakfast, and I wasn’t sure about Gabe. He was a dark horse.

Putting my hand in my pocket, I pressed my fingers firmly against the book. It had spoken to me before, maybe it would speak to me again. While I wasn’t into the blood-burning sensations, I could use a little help.

Closing my eyes was risky, so I didn’t. I was still depriving my senses, so it might just work. I hoped if the book did speak, I wouldn’t blab it out like earlier.

No such luck. The book was on a roll, and I was just here for the roller coaster ride.

“Those who come in ill will shall pay the price. Information is given to those who deserve it. For those who beg or steal, the end shall come in ways most unexpected and quite swiftly,” I said. The prickling sensation under my skin had progressed to millions of tiny searing-hot daggers. It sucked. However, I refused to show any pain or discomfort. I wasn’t sure if they were aware that the book was in my pocket. My guess was no.

The expressions on their faces ranged from fury to disbelief to fear. Shit. What the heck was the little book in my pocket?

“Where did this information come from?” Prue hissed as her eyes grew even brighter. “Who told you this?”

I shrugged and smiled. Gideon’s words again rang in my head… There is more power in stillness than in movement. Aggression should be used only when a result can be produced. Words can bite far worse than a fist in certain situations. Use them and use them wisely.

The book might be the death of me or it would save my life. Right now, the odds were fifty-fifty.

“Answer Prue,” Abby snarled at me, looking unsure of herself.

Instead of following orders, I decided to drop another bomb. “I’m friends with Candy Vargo. She’s in town.”

All four Angels looked confused and unalarmed. Shit. Had Candy underestimated herself?

“I know of no Candy Vargo,” Gabe said, narrowing his gaze. “Is she the one who put the words into your mouth?”

“No one puts words in my mouth,” I snapped, then paused and smiled. Candy Vargo was my ill-mannered buddy’s human name. Or at least I hoped it was. “Whoops, my bad. I meant Karma. I’m friends with Karma. She said to send her regards if I ran into you.”

They went positively ashen. I thought Abby might pass out. Gabe jackknifed forward and gasped. Rafe grabbed the magazine rack beside him for purchase and Prue’s expression was one of true terror.

It was exquisitely beautiful.

Candy freakin’ Vargo for the win. While I was still curious about what she had done to the Angels, I was never going to ask. Some things were better left unknown. Forever.

“So, on that note, if you want to cut a deal, say so. If not, I’m done,” I informed the foursome.

“Can she do that?” Abby asked, perplexed, still shaken by the mention of Karma.

“She just did,” Rafe said with a tight smile. “What are your terms?”

“Tell me yours first,” I countered.

“Vicious,” Prue said with a curt nod of approval.

I didn’t want her approval. I wanted her help. However, of all the bizarre things, her validation felt nice. I was losing it.

“We want to know what the book told you,” Gabe said.

“Why?” I asked.

Not one would answer. Fine. It didn’t matter.

“Your terms?” Prue inquired.

“Question first,” I said.

They nodded.

“Are you here for the tribunal of Clarissa?”

Abby sighed dramatically. I really didn’t like her at all. “The least complicated answer is yes.”

I wanted to jump for joy. I didn’t. It was hard, but doable. I was pretending to be a badass. Badasses didn’t squeal like a girl. “And with the new information of the Angel of Mercy destroying ghosts, will you exact the punishment for that crime as well?”

“You’re quite a bloodthirsty thing, aren’t you?” Rafe commented.

“First off, I’m not a thing,” I said coolly. “I’m a person. I care about justice. Laws have been broken by an abomination. I didn’t create the punishments. You people did.”

“Touché,” Prue said. “And you have proof? Your word means nothing.”

Again, I wanted to kick my own ass for not diving further into Emma and Sophia’s memories. “I can get proof,” I said evenly. “And when you have it, you will act on it?”

“With pleasure,” Abby said with a cackle.

She was as batshit crazy as Clarissa, but she was on my side… at least for the moment.

“There’s a caveat and it’s nonnegotiable,” I told them. “Clarissa stole the soul of someone I love. It’s mine and I want it back unharmed. If you can make all of that happen, I will tell you word for word what the book said to me.”

Again, glances were exchanged. They were not happy, but I’d backed them into a corner. I was about to see how badly they wanted to know what I’d learned from the book.

“I don’t like this,” Abby snapped, eyeing me with distaste.

“You don’t have to,” I replied. “You simply have to agree.”

Rafe walked forward. If I reached out, I could touch him. Hopefully, I was correct about him being an ally.

“Your craftiness was unexpected—a surprise,” he said, studying my face. “You win round one, Daisy. You will not always be so lucky.”

“So, you’ll go after Clarissa?” I asked.

“Oh no,” Prue said with a laugh. “That’s on you. We will arrive and exact justice when the time is right. Good luck, Daisy. You will need it.”

They disappeared with as little fanfare as when they’d arrived. Heather fell to the ground with a thud and a furious scream. Gideon came crashing through the door looking like he was going to commit a murder.

I sank to the floor and let my head fall forward into my hands. I had gotten what I wanted. Kind of. The problem was that a million things could go horribly wrong before the Angels showed up to save the day.

“Are you alright?” Gideon demanded, squatting down and checking me from head to toe.

“I am,” I promised him.

“How did they do that,” Heather asked, joining me on the floor.

“They stopped time,” I said.

“Impossible,” Gideon insisted.

“Nothing is impossible,” I reminded him with a humorless chuckle. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Gideon said, checking his watch.

“It only felt like a few minutes,” I muttered, getting to my feet and realizing the stoppage of time hadn’t applied to the human world. “How did they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Gideon ground out, furious. “Until now, I wasn’t aware that eight hours has passed.” He cased the shop, swearing the entire time. “They’re gone.”

I nodded. “Heather, could you hear what happened?”

“Not after the woman closed my eyes,” she said, running her hand though her hair and making it stand up on end. “They were familiar to me. I don’t know why, but they were.”

“You’ve seen them before?” Gideon asked.

Heather pressed her temples. Her lips compressed into a thin line and she shook her head. “I don’t know. This might sound crazy, but I think it might have been in a dream.”

“Nothing sounds crazy to me anymore,” I said, checking to make sure the book was still safe in my pocket. It was. “However, whatever Candy Vargo did to the Angels must be freaking bad. When I mentioned I was friends with Karma, I thought they were all going to faint.”

“I don’t ever want to know,” Heather said, warily walking over to turn out the lights. It hadn’t gone well the first time she’d tried it.

“I do know,” Gideon said with a shudder of repulsion. “And trust me, you don’t want to.”

“Let’s go home. I want to share what happened only once,” I said, extending my hands to Gideon and Heather.

“Are you going to transport us?” Gideon asked with a smile, taking my hand in his.

“Should I?” I asked, worried. While it had worked with Missy, she was one person.

“You should,” Heather insisted. “Practice makes perfect.”

“You trust me?” I asked, still not quite on board.

“With my life,” she said. “I just wish I was better at taking care of yours.”

Gideon sighed. I looked at him and raised my brow. He sighed louder. I raised the other brow.

“It was not your fault, Heather,” he said in a tone that conveyed it was killing him to have to say it. “I was worthless as well. The Angels have tricks up their sleeves I was unaware of. You are not to be blamed.”

I smiled at the man I loved. He was good even when he didn’t want to be. I’d take a Demon over an Angel any day of the week. “You guys ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” Gideon said, returning my smile.

“Always,” Heather added.

“Hang on,” I said with a little giggle. “It might be a bumpy ride.”

Chapter Nineteen

No one had lost an appendage on the transport home. I considered it a win. Candy had been delighted to hear about the Angels’ reaction to her. She’d laughed uncontrollably for a good ten minutes. It was kind of scary and twice I was tempted to ask her what she’d done to them. A pointed look and a grimace from Gideon saved me from myself yet again.

“I don’t know what it means.” Clarence stared at the notebook Heather had used to record my translations from the book.

Missy sat next to Jennifer and had played interpreter between my mom and my Botoxicated buddy while we’d been gone. In that time, my mom and Jennifer had become fast friends. Charlie was still a ball of tension at how much time had passed and Tim had hacked and downloaded the blueprints of the house Clarissa was illegally staying in.

“Read it aloud, Daisy,” Charlie suggested as he went back to pacing. “Maybe the clues are in the sound of the spoken word.”

I nodded and picked up the notebook. “Out with the old. In with the new. Strange happenings are on the horizon. Paths will converge and truths shall be revealed. The future lies in the deadly hands of one. Choices will be made. Who makes the choices and what choices are made remain to be seen.”

“I’ve still got nothing,” my father said, frustrated. “Most often, cryptic messages have to play out. It’s a foreshadowing of what’s to come.”

“Can I take a few guesses?” Jennifer asked. “I know I’m a youngin’ here, being in my sixties and all. GOD DANG IT, I love saying that. But maybe I can figure it out.”

I grinned and pushed the notebook across the table to her. Having Jennifer here was a blessing I was grateful for. I just hoped she didn’t fall apart when she finally digested all she’d learned.

“Go for it, youngin’,” I said.

“Alrighty.” Jennifer pulled out her readers and settled in. “Well, the first part is kinda obvious to me.”

“It is?” my father asked, shocked.

“Yep. Doesn’t Clarissa have some big Angel job?” Jennifer questioned.

“She’s the Angel of Mercy,” Heather said.

Jennifer smacked herself in the forehead. “I don’t know who’s in charge, but that is the stupidest dang thing I’ve ever heard. Clarissa is a heartless skank. I’m just gonna say y’all should think about hiring a new employment agency. Even I could do a better job than whoever you have running it now.”

“We’ll take that under consideration,” Clarence said, slightly taken aback. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Jennifer said. “Since we’re planning on offing Clarissa, I’m gonna take a stab and say the first line is about hiring a new Angel of Mercy.”

“Sheeee-ott,” Candy said with a cackle. “The youngin’ is smarter than all of us.”

“Possibly,” Gideon agreed, mulling over what Jennifer had just said. “What about the rest?”

Jennifer read it over again. “The rest sounds like a weird, darkish historical paranormal romance mystery science fiction fantasy novel—which isn’t actually a genre, but it should be. I’d read the livin’ crap out of it, especially if the hero was a vampire.”

“Mmkay,” I said, biting down on my lower lip so I didn’t laugh. Pulling the notebook back in front of me, I studied it. “Strange things are already happening. The paths converging and truth being revealed could mean that when we go up against Clarissa, all her crimes will finally come to light.”

Tim looked over my shoulder at the notebook. “The future lying in the deadly hands of one doesn’t bode well,” he said. “I don’t like the idea that Clarissa is in charge of anything that has to do with the future.”

“I don’t get the feeling it’s her deadly hands we’re talking about,” Candy chimed in, picking her teeth. “Doesn’t hit me right.”

“Then whose deadly hands?” Missy asked.

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Candy said with a shrug, tucking the toothpick behind her ear. “Got no clue on that one.”

“Plan,” Charlie insisted. “We need one, and we need one now. Time is running out.”

“He’s right,” Clarence confirmed, then looked at me. “Tell us about your conversation with the Angels, please.”

“They’re here for Clarissa’s tribunal. I made them aware of the destruction of Mike and Anna. They know that Clarissa has June’s soul and wants to trade it for my mom’s.” I held up my hand before Charlie went off on another rant. “I made it nonnegotiable that June’s soul cannot be harmed under any circumstances.”

“And they’re going to take care of all of that in exchange for the cryptic message in the book?” Missy asked, a little perplexed.

“Yep. That’s what they said,” I confirmed.

“That message must mean a heck of a lot more than we realize,” my mother pointed out.

“And then some,” Heather agreed.

“Well shit, this is fantastic! All we gotta do is sit back and wait,” Candy Vargo announced with satisfaction. “Those Angels are fucking insane. Clarissa is a goner.”

I was pretty sure the Angels would describe Karma as insane. “Nope,” I said. “We have to draw Clarissa in. They said they would show up and exact justice when the time was right.”

“Repeat that,” my father said as his eyes blazed with displeasure.

“They said they would show up and exact justice when the time was right,” I repeated. What did he know that I didn’t? Were Angels habitual liars? Had I been duped?

“Excuse me for a moment,” my father said, going outside into the cold.

“Is he okay?” Jennifer asked.

I peeked out of the window and watched the Archangel blow a hole in my yard that shook the entire house. “I don’t know.” I thanked my lucky stars that I lived out in the middle of nowhere. My family’s habits would be hard to explain to neighbors. “Give him a minute.”

“I’ll be back,” my mother said, floating right through the wall and going to my dad.

Watching them try to hold each other broke my heart. My mother’s ghostly frame slipped through my father’s strong hands several times before they gave up.

There was nothing I wanted more in this moment than to lend the gift of being able to touch the ghosts to my dad, but that wasn’t in the cards. I was the Death Counselor. He was the Archangel. My mother hovered next to the man she loved as his body shook with pent-up rage.

Tim watched the exchange between my parents and shook his head sadly. He stared at them for long moment. With one last sigh, he turned to face everyone and took over the planning. “Clarence will come back when he is ready. Until then, we continue,” he advised. “There are multiple things that could go very wrong. However, waiting the full twenty-four hours for Clarissa to come back to us could be the gravest of our mistakes.”

“Crap,” I shouted. “I need proof for the Angels.”

“Of what?” Heather asked.

“That Clarissa destroyed Mike and Anna. I have to mind dive into either Emma or Sophia.”

“Do we have time for that?” Charlie asked, throwing his hands up in frustration and blowing a hole in the ceiling.

The chandelier came crashing down and crystals scattered across the hardwood floor. I barely batted an eye. My new normal was as abnormal as it could get. Tim grabbed a broom and Gideon grabbed a dustpan. No one commented.

“Holy shit,” Jennifer muttered. “That didn’t happen in Twilight.”

Missy jumped to her feet and started making a plan without a breath between thoughts. “I think it should be Sophia’s mind that you dive into. She’s an older soul for such a little one. We need your dad to help turn her soul back into a ghost. Then vice versa when you’re done.”

“Right,” I said, talking as fast as Missy while pacing and avoiding the cleanup. “I’ll dive. Dad will transmit it so everyone can see it. That will be indisputable proof. Then he can send Sophia back to her soul state and you can take her back in.”

“Perfect,” Missy said, then began wringing her hands. “Umm… I have a lot of guests inside me. What if the wrong soul comes out?”

It was a smart question and one that I didn’t know how to answer. “Umm… I guess my dad can send it back.”

“Hold on,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “That will make Clarence useless. He is the only one who can truly hold Clarissa back until the other Angels arrive.”

“Wait. What?” My stomach sank. I’d completely forgotten that my dad was more than likely still depleted from sending all the souls into Missy yesterday. “What about Gideon and you and Tim and Heather and Candy? Can’t Candy hold Clarissa off? I mean, Candy is right out of her mind and as violent as all get out.”

“Thank you,” Candy said.

“Welcome,” I replied.

I wanted to scream. Gideon halted my erratic pacing by pulling me close.

“We can slow Clarissa down,” he explained. “However, if the Angels lied to you, Clarence is the only one who can end her.”

I looked up at him. “What about me?”

“No,” Tim said. “As much as I would love to get behind that theory, I don’t see it as a possibility.”

“You mean it’s impossible?” I demanded.

Tim nodded.

“Nothing. Is. Impossible,” I ground out. “How many times have I heard that phrase? None of this should be possible. Not one bit of it.”

“I’ll second that,” Jennifer chimed in.

“I need to think,” I said, feeling deflated and uneasy. “Clarissa can’t win. She’s taken too much. Maybe I can turn Sophia’s soul back into a ghost. I’m the Death Counselor. I deal with ghosts.”

“Or maybe I can as the Soul Keeper,” Missy said.

“Are you willing to take the chance of destroying Sophia’s soul like Clarissa destroyed her parents’ souls?” Charlie asked in a cool tone.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. I kept hitting metaphorical brick walls with my head. At this rate, I was going to have a freaking concussion before the battle started.

“No,” I said flatly. “I am not willing to take that chance.”

“I have an idea,” Candy Vargo volunteered.

Gideon leaned against the wall and eyed Candy. “If it includes a potential suicide mission, I do not want to hear it. And you will be very sorry if you share it.”

“You’re a dick,” Candy said, flipping Gideon off.

“Your point?” he inquired, returning the middle finger salute.

She rolled her eyes and put another toothpick in her mouth. “What if I knew another way to get the proof for the Angels? Without Clarence being involved.”

Gideon’s eye narrowed to slits. Candy glanced over at him and grinned. He did not grin back. I had a feeling that Candy’s plan was all kinds of awful, but I still wanted to hear it. If it kept my dad from losing power it might be viable.

“Tell me,” I said.

“What I’m going to offer will take me out of the battle—possibly the Reaper as well. But it would be better to have us down for the count instead of Clarence.”

Gideon didn’t move a single muscle, but his eyes blazed and a hazy red glow filled the room. Charlie went as still as a statue and a growling noise came from deep in his chest. It was scarier than the darkness. Not one thing happening in the room led me to believe that what Candy was about to say would be a solid option.

“It’s considered illegal in certain circles,” Candy went on, weighing her words carefully. She might have a piece of wood hanging out of her mouth, but her tone was that of someone very powerful, very serious and certifiably crazy. “I’m gonna need promises in blood that it goes nowhere.”

Candy Vargo snapped her fingers and a wicked-looking dagger encrusted in emeralds and stained with blood appeared in her hand. Charlie swore and punched another hole in the wall. He then walked into the living room and detonated my couch. Donna and Karen, who had been sound asleep by the fire, came tearing into the kitchen. I didn’t blame them. Being around a furious Charlie was a dangerous proposition.

“Why is he so angry?” I whispered.

Tim peeked into the living room, then turned to me. He had paled and looked very uncomfortable. “You must remember that Charlie is the Immortal Enforcer. He is the one who upholds the rule of law. What Candy is suggesting is in direct violation of his oath—very, very, very serious business.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” I asked Candy, feeling a bit queasy.

“Gettin’ to it,” she replied.

“Alrightyroo,” Jennifer said, standing up. “How about this? While I’m dang excited to be part of the club—and I am, even though you’re not vampires—I’m not gonna stab myself. I’ve paid too much for perfection to have some random scar on my ass.”

“You don’t have to stab yourself in the ass,” Candy told her.

“Good to know, Candy Vargo,” Jennifer said, patting her on the back. “But I still ain’t up for it. A knife wound would be kind of hard to explain to Dip since I’m cutting back on the plastic surgery. I’m just gonna hang out with Charlie and make sure he doesn’t blow up the house while you people gore each other. We’ll go sit with June. Sound good?”

“Actually, it does,” Gideon said, still in a very dark place. “Get Charlie away from this.”

“Told you there was a reason for Jennifer to be here,” Candy huffed, waving the knife. “Don’t fuck with fate.”

“And on that note, I’m out,” Jennifer said, hightailing it out of the kitchen with the dogs on her heels.

Heather took the dagger from Candy. “Before I agree to skewer myself, I want to know why I’m doing it. And I don’t want Missy in on this. She doesn’t heal like the rest of us.”

“Do I?” I asked, a little concerned.

Gideon nodded curtly, his gaze still on Candy. “If you don’t, I can heal you. I can heal Missy too.”

“I’m in,” Missy said, much to Heather’s dismay. “And thank you, Gideon.”

“My pleasure.”

“Your turn, Candy,” I said.

She leaned in and motioned for us to come close. “Do you still have Mike and Anna’s ashes?”

“I do,” I said.

“Get them,” she said. “We’re taking them to the yard. If we bury them, I can pull their last moments.”

Heather gasped. “That’s Demon black magic.”

“Yep,” Candy said. “And that’s why I need a Demon.”

“This is fucked,” Gideon ground out. “I’ll be down for the count if we do this.”

“How long?” Candy asked him.

He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “Two hours. Maybe three tops.”

Heather didn’t look any happier than Gideon did. She checked her watch. “We still have time before the window closes on putting June’s soul back into her. Is three hours to heal a wild guess or an educated guess?” she asked Gideon.

“Educated,” he replied.

“Is this going to harm either one of you?” I asked, my gaze bouncing between Gideon and Candy.

“Permanently, no,” Candy said.

“Temporarily, yes,” Tim said. “The price is high for black magic.”

“Are you in, Reaper?” Candy asked.

“I am,” he replied.

“No,” I said, going with my gut. “This is a very bad plan. We can figure something else out. Maybe I can mind dive after they strip Clarissa of her immortality. That way she’d be human. She couldn’t hurt anyone. It’s solid.”

“It has holes,” Heather admitted, even though it was clear she was loath to do so. “Angels wait for no one. We might be able to save June, but there is very little chance of saving Gram if total destruction is the requirement.”

“And we must factor in the unreliability of the Angels,” Tim pointed out. “There’s a chance they won’t come at all.”

“Agreed,” Gideon said, placing his hand under my chin and raising it so our eyes met. “It’s the only way to do it that leaves Clarence time to regain strength. I would die for you, Daisy. Bleeding for you is a no-brainer.”

“I don’t want you to bleed for me,” I said, grabbing his hands and feeling the tears well up.

“We can’t always have what we want,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me.

“But in the words of Mick Jagger,” Tim said with a small, sad smile, “if you try sometimes… you get what you need.”

“Let’s do this,” Gideon said. “The faster we get it over with, the faster I heal.”

Chapter Twenty

Slicing my palm and exchanging blood with Candy Vargo to swear I’d never tell a soul what I was about to witness was painful and gross. It was also the least alarming and easiest part of what happened next.

My backyard was eerily quiet. The moon was bright and the breeze was biting. We stood in a small circle. I held the kitten-covered bookbag containing the ashes tightly in my hand. I should have let Tim bury his arm in my yard. It was turning out to be a cemetery after all.

“You okay?” Heather asked Missy, looking at her wound.

“Little woozy,” Missy admitted. She leaned on Heather for support.

Gideon immediately took Missy’s hand and clasped it between both of his. “This will only take a moment. Grit your teeth and swallow any screams. We don’t need Clarence coming back here. This is not an activity he would approve of.”

Missy nodded and hid her face in Heather’s arms as Gideon healed her. To everyone’s surprise—including mine, I didn’t need to be healed. That was good. It meant if I had to fight, I might come out alive.

“Mind diving into the children changed something significant in you, Daisy,” Tim said, examining my completely healed hand. “You still don’t have a footprint, but you’re as close to being Immortal without actually being Immortal that I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not sure I want to be Immortal. However,” I said, catching Gideon’s eye. “I’m good with adding on a few decades to spend them with you.”

His smile undid me. “I’m down with that, too, Counselor,” he said with a wink.

“Good to hear, Reaper.”

“Cut the mushy shit,” Candy grunted. “Give me the ashes. Once this starts, do not try to stop it.”

“Karma is correct,” Gideon said, shrugging out of his coat and taking off his shirt. “If it’s too much, go inside. As long as there are at least three of us to vouch for the truth, that should be sufficient.”

“Not that I’m going to,” Missy said. “But what happens if you’re interrupted?”

The pause was too long for my liking. “What happens?”

“I’ll be cast into the darkness,” Gideon replied emotionlessly.

“For a thousand years,” Candy finished the explanation. “And I’ll join him.”

“What in the ever-loving hell are you people thinking?” I hissed, picking up Gideon’s shirt and coat and shoving them into his hands. “This is a terrible idea. No, you’re not doing this. I’m not going to have you guys risk getting sent into the darkness for a thousand years. We’ll find another way. We have to.”

“But maybe not in time to save June or Gram,” Gideon said quietly.

My gaze flickered back and forth between him and Candy. “Why are you doing this? Why would you risk the punishment?”

“Love,” Candy said.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, sure I’d misunderstood her.

Candy rolled her eyes and kicked the dirt. “I love Gram. I love all of you fucking assholes. I haven’t had any friends except for Tim for five thousand years. It sucks ass that I can’t kill Clarissa. I love killing shit. I’m seriously good at it. So short of getting to off the bitch, I have the power to do something to make sure she gets what she deserves. It would give me insane pleasure to watch her die like a stuck pig for what she did to Gram, June and Alana. That’s why.”

“Wow,” Missy said, her eyes wide. “That was profanely beautiful.”

“Yeah, I know,” Candy said. “But I’ll deny all the love shit except for Gram. You got that?”

“Umm… yes,” I said. “You have my word.”

Gideon wrapped his arms around me from behind and buried his face in my hair. “Karma is correct. The answer is love. I love you, Daisy. My life held no meaning until you. I’m a very bad man. The pain will be a penance for my past sins and at the same time a gift for you.”

I tuned and faced him. “You are not a bad man,” I snapped.

“What’s your definition of bad?” he inquired with a lopsided smile.

“Not you. That’s my definition,” I told him, touching his face. Searching his eyes for any hesitation, I saw none—just love and desire. I realized that if I had the opportunity, I would do the same for him. No questions asked. “Thank you for your gift and your love. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Oh Daisy,” Gideon said, letting his coat and shirt fall back to the ground. “You already have. A million times over.”

“Tim, hold on to Daisy,” Candy directed, digging a hole with a shovel and emptying the contents of the bag into it. “Heather, you do the same with Missy.”

Tim took my hand and I held his tight. “They will be okay, Daisy,” he promised.

“Will we?” I whispered as Candy picked up the dagger and stabbed Gideon in the chest. Swallowing back my scream was one of the hardest things I’d done to date. Gideon’s swift intake of breath made my stomach roil. He made no other sound as Candy carved an intricate pattern into his skin.

“Yes,” Tim said softly. “We will.”

“While I want to believe you, I’m having a really hard time,” I choked out under my breath, squeezing his hand so hard I was sure it would break.

“Watch, Daisy. That is why we’re here,” Tim urged. “Do not miss what we need to see. Do not let this gift be in vain.”

The ashes began to smolder as the Grim Reaper’s blood flowed out of his chest and splashed onto the ground. My ears rung. Candy’s lilting chant sounded far away. The warmth of Tim’s hand in mine was the only thing that anchored me to reality.

After what felt like an eternity, the smoldering ash became flame and a soundless burst of light set both Candy and Gideon on fire. Neither cried out as they dropped to their knees and placed their hands on the coals. It was incredibly upsetting yet strangely glorious. As the chanting grew more foreign to my ears, the ashes rose from the ground and swirled like a small tornado. A filmy picture began to form. The images were fuzzy at first, but the harder I concentrated, the clearer they became.

Mike and Anna appeared. Their eyes were wild with terror as they hovered over Emma and Sophia, trying to protect them from an unhinged Clarissa. The sounds were muted. I couldn’t make out much, yet.

Clarissa darted around and tried to grab the children. Mike and Anna beat her at every turn. Her expression was horrid—filled with so much rage, it was the foulest thing I’d ever seen. The thought that these were Mike and Anna’s last moments made me ill. Killing Clarissa wasn’t even good enough.

She narrowed her gaze on the spirits. Her lips spread in a menacing smile. Mike and Anna froze. The Angel of Mercy wrapped the two ghosts in an embrace and kissed the top of each of their heads.

Then she squeezed. Her embrace was destroying them and her endearment was the kiss of death. Her mouth moved while Mike and Anna begged for their lives.

Her words would be branded in my mind for as long as I lived and my hatred of her would live on forever.

“Into nothingness,” she hissed. “Nevermore to be seen. Neither here nor there nor in between. Be gone.”

With two loud pops I would never forget, Mike and Anna literally turned to ash.

The Angel of Mercy laughed at her handiwork. She waved at the little girls and disappeared.

Gideon groaned and fell over. Candy did the same. I tried to jerk my hand from Tim’s but he held me back.

“We must leave them to heal,” he said.

“Outside? In the cold?” I asked, using my free hand to swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks. They had been on fire and Gideon had lost a lot of blood. “What if they die?”

Tim shook his head and smiled. “Immortals don’t die. So, unless you want to banish the one who gives you joy into the darkness, we must go. The process cannot be interrupted.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded to Tim. It was against everything in me to walk away. I was a caretaker. I was a fixer. I didn’t let people suffer.

But I walked away. I walked away from the woman I called a friend and the man I loved… because I loved them.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Where is everyone?” I asked, walking back into the house and feeling like I’d just been through combat.

Missy looked as shell-shocked as I felt. “Your mom and dad are still out front.”

Heather’s arms were around Missy. “My guess is that Jennifer and Charlie are still upstairs with June.”

“And we know where Candy and Gideon are,” Tim added, offering everyone a cookie.

“Umm… no thanks,” I said. After what I’d just watched, I wasn’t sure I wanted to eat ever again.

“I’ll check on Jennifer and Charlie. We need to figure out if we’re heading to Clarissa or waiting for her to come to us,” Heather said, helping Missy to the couch. “You guys chill for a few. That was overwhelming.”

“Understatement,” I said, sitting down next to Missy and laying my head on her shoulder. “We’re having a hell of a midlife.”

Missy gave me a weak smile. “What just went down had to have qualified as the crisis.”

Her play on words made the corner of my lips curve up just a little bit. Honestly, I was shocked I could smile at all, even as pathetic as it was. There didn’t seem to be much to be happy about right now.

“Candy and Gideon will really be okay?” Missy whispered.

“Yes,” I said firmly. I believed it. Gideon would never leave me unless he was given no choice. I felt the same. “I know they will.”

“How about us?” she asked, playing with my hair like she did when we were little.

“Remains to be seen,” I told her, kissing her cheek. “But we have the proof for the Angels.”

“That was so sad,” she said. “Made no sense.”

I said nothing. There wasn’t anything to add. I agreed. Closing my eyes, I tried to push the images away, but I couldn’t. Clarissa had squeezed the ghosts into nothingness. The one thing that made me feel semi okay was that I hadn’t made Emma or Sophia relive it.

“I think we should go to Clarissa,” Tim said, joining us on the couch. “She won’t be expecting you to come to her. She has no clue that we know her location. Charlie and Heather can put up a barrier and supply backup. I can stay here and protect Jennifer, Missy, June and Alana. The chance of her not clutching June’s soul in her hands is better if we take her by surprise.”

“What time is it?” Missy asked.

“A little after ten,” Tim told her.

“Tim, you’re right,” I said, sitting up ramrod straight. “My dad can hold her off and I can keep June’s soul safe until the Angels arrive.”

“If they arrive,” Tim said, worried.

“When they arrive,” I insisted. “They want to know what was in the text of the book. For some reason they seemed obsessed.”

“I hope you’re correct,” Tim said, standing up. “I shall alert Heather and Charlie of our impending departure.”

Before I could even take a breath, a crash of lightning cracked open the sky. I felt it straight to my toes. My father’s roar of fury and my mother’s screams pierced my soul. Our plans had suddenly been shot straight to hell.

We didn’t need to go to Clarissa. She had come to us.

Pulling Missy off the couch, I pushed her into Tim’s arms. “Protect Missy, Jennifer, June and my dogs. Make sure Candy and Gideon are not in harm’s way,” I ordered. “Send Heather and Charlie down. I’m going out.”

“Is that wise?” Tim yelled over his shoulder as he and Missy rushed up the stairs.

“Wise isn’t part of the equation,” I shouted as more lightning ripped through the sky. “People I love are out there.”

Running out of the front door with speed I knew would render me invisible, I grabbed my mother and threw her as far as I could. Is she had been alive, she would have been broken in half. She was not. She was a ghost. If something fell off, I could glue it back on. If she was turned to ash and destroyed, there would be no way of fixing her. I’d just gotten my mother back. Clarissa wasn’t taking her away from me again.

“Daisy, GO,” my father shouted above the wind. “This is my fight.”

Clarissa’s hands rose above her head. She slashed them in a downward motion and shrieked like a banshee. I was about twenty feet away and the barrier was forming fast.

“Dad, you’re wrong,” I whispered as I sprinted toward the barrier and prayed I would make it inside before it closed. “This is our fight.”

The magical wall enclosed the front yard only—the house and the surrounding woods were on the outside. In her deranged fury, Clarissa had been sloppy. Hopefully, the mistake would cost her. I couldn’t afford for it to cost me and I ran as if my life depended on it. If her goal was my mother, she’d failed. Her behavior was so erratic, I wasn’t sure she was aware of much.

Tripping over a large branch, the barrier slammed down on my toes as it hit the ground, but I’d made it in. I grunted in agony as I grabbed my leg and yanked my foot through. I was pretty sure I’d lost a toe if the blood seeping through my tennis shoe was any indication, but that was the least of my concerns. I’d give up a toe for my life any day of the week.

“Ohhh,” Clarissa purred, eyeing my father with naked lust. “What a lovely surprise. It’s been a while, Michael.”

She called my father by his celestial name. His hiss of disgust didn’t seem to bother her. I wasn’t sure if she realized I was inside the barrier. Rolling behind a downed tree, I hid and waited for an opening. June’s soul wasn’t in her hands, but I spotted a faint glow coming from her pocket.

Where in the hell were the Angels?

Movement in my periphery pulled my eyes from the prize for the briefest of moments. Heather and Charlie prowled the edges of the barrier like crazed animals, looking for a way in. Charlie’s badassery was on full display. His entire body sparked with silver flame and his eyes were blinding beams of shimmering light. Heather’s tattoos raced and danced along her skin at a dizzying speed. My friends looked like otherworldly predators, and I was very happy they were on my side.

I couldn’t spare an ounce of power to take the barrier down. I wasn’t sure I could if I tried. I’d save that effort for when I had June’s soul in my hands.

Donna and Karen raced around the perimeter, growling and barking. My Hell Hound’s eyes were as red as a Demon’s. Her canines had extended and she gnashed them menacingly. Karen picked up on her sister’s distress and snarled as she followed suit. My stomach tightened in fear for my dogs. The Angel of Mercy wouldn’t think twice about destroying anything I loved.

“The game is over, Clarissa,” my father said evenly. “You are done. Your crimes are reprehensible—unforgivable.”

Clarissa adjusted the neckline of her torn and filthy dress to show more cleavage. Her eyes were a dull gold and dilated. The physical beauty that she’d once possessed was gone, replaced by a hardened shell of a woman who had lost her sanity. Her play for my father’s affections was pathetic and sickening. “Michael, what say you we let bygones be bygones and move ahead… together? Let’s be us again.”

“There was never an us,” he informed her coldly.

Clarissa shook her head in a staccato rhythm of confusion or denial at his words. Her hands clenched at her sides and she tried to giggle seductively. It sounded tinny and deranged. My father’s eyes met mine for a brief moment as he gauged the size of the barrier. They widened ever so slightly when he saw me. The raw fear in them when he realized I was trapped inside with him made my breath catch painfully in my chest.

“There was an us,” Clarissa insisted shrilly. “There is an us. If it hadn’t been for the whore, you would be mine. I did all of this for me… and you, of course.”

My father eyed Clarissa with barely concealed hatred. His body language relaxed when he spotted my mother on the outside of the barrier. He tilted his head slightly to the left, signaling for my mother to hide. She nodded sadly, extended her arms to him and faded back into the trees.

“You see, it could be so simple,” Clarissa continued, oblivious to everything going on around her. She ran her hands up and down her body in a repulsive attempt at seduction. “All we have to do is get rid of the evil ones. It hurts my feelings to be reminded of your silly indiscretion.”

“Do you have June’s soul?” he asked, tamping back his ire and keeping his tone conversational.

Clarissa took his lack of hostility as a sign of success. Her smile was lewd and she patted her pocket. “I do. I can give it back to you for a small price. Destroy Alana’s soul for me. Show me your devotion, Michael.”

“Alana has moved on,” Clarence lied smoothly.

Clarissa glanced around wildly. “She was here. I saw her,” she said, growing more agitated by the second.

“You must have seen another ghost. There are many in residence. Alana has left this realm.”

Clarissa howled like a dying animal and shot a bolt of lightning at my father. He dodged it with ease. My breath came out in a whoosh of relief. The need to stand beside him made my heart race erratically and my muscles tighten to the point of pain. My body told me to move. My head insisted I wait. I tried to figure out what my gut was telling me to do, but it was silent.

“I would have known if she’d moved on,” Clarissa snarled, punching at the air around her. With each jarring movement she made, fires ignited and bolts of lightning struck the ground inside the barrier.

“Would you?” my father asked, staying calm. “You haven’t exactly been in touch, so to speak, lately.”

His words made the crazed Angel pause. Her face pinched in confusion as she debated the truth of what she’d just been told.

“Are you lying to me?” she demanded, rocking back and forth on her bare feet.

“Come now, Clarissa,” my father said consolingly. “Would I lie to you?”

The answer was brilliant—a question to cancel out a question.

Clarissa walked in a tight circle, flapping her arms. With each step she took, she seemed to lose more of her tenuous grip on reality. “No, of course not, Michael,” she said with a laugh of joy. “Everything I did, I did for us. You know that. You must know that.” The pitch of her voice changed. It grew high and thin. “That woman was a human. You are an Archangel. It was blasphemy. I couldn’t let that happen. She had to die.”

“So, you chose to make decisions that were not yours to make?” he asked.

“Exactly,” she shouted. “No one is real. We’re all simply pieces of a machine. It’s all a test. God is testing us.” She glanced down at her hands and shook them like they were covered in spiders. “They think I’m crazy, but if they don’t catch me, they can’t prove it. And they will never catch me.”

“Of course not,” my father said, slowly moving closer to Clarissa.

“Did I tell you about the time I was chased by Demons in the woods?”

“No,” my father said, glancing over at me, then pointedly at Clarissa’s pocket where June’s soul was hidden. “Tell me.”

I nodded and shimmied on my stomach down the length of the tree to position myself closer.

“Demons,” Clarissa hissed. “They began their attack in my dreams, then chased me through the woods. They steal your hair and peel your skin. They rape and leave their seed in the powerful ones like me. Did you know that?”

“I did not,” Clarence answered, humoring her. “Must have been terrible. How did you escape?”

She paused as if she had forgotten what she was talking about. Pulling June’s soul from her pocket, she rolled it like a ball in her hands. “I’m not sure I did escape,” she said, then shrugged. “Will you kill my Demons? I killed for you. I think it’s only fair you return my gift.”

“Give me June’s soul and then we can talk about killing Demons,” he suggested, moving even closer.

“How about this,” Clarissa countered with an excited squeal, skipping away from my father. She tossed June’s soul into the air and caught it right before it hit the ground. “Since the whore you impregnated is gone, I want you to end the bastard who was produced to prove your love to me.”

“I don’t know where she is,” my father lied again, making an attempt to stay in the vicinity of Clarissa’s manic movement.

“I do,” she screamed, aiming her free hand at the downed tree I was hidden behind, blowing it to bits. “Kill her or I will.”

The debris from the explosion made seeing what was even inches in front of me difficult. However, I’d learned from Gideon that I didn’t need my eyes to see. Closing them tightly, I dove through the dust and splintered wood in the direction of Clarissa’s voice.

“Where are the Angels?” I shouted at my father as he tried to attack and restrain Clarissa. “They said they’d be here when the time was right. I think the time is right.”

She moved like the wind and cackled with madness as she evaded my father.

“That is code for they’ll be here when the battle is over,” he yelled as he took a hit of magic from Clarissa that sent him hurtling into the side of the barrier.

I now knew why my father had blown a crater in my yard earlier. If I wasn’t busy, I would have blown another one to join his. The Angels were traitors. Other than my father, I despised them all. They lost. I would never reveal what I’d read in the book. Not to mention, I was probably about to die, which would definitely pose a problem for sharing information.

My father’s power wasn’t fully back. He was in as much danger as June’s soul. However, my power was with me. I didn’t know exactly what I could or couldn’t do. Ignorance could be bliss or lead to my final moment.

I was about to find out.

“Look at me,” I shouted at Clarissa as she was poised to send another burst of magic my father’s way. “You want me? Then come after me.”

Her head whipped in my direction and the corners of her lips curled into a sneer.

“You will die like your mother—like a coward.”

The first shot grazed my arm like a white-hot knife as I used my speed to avoid the brunt of it. Clarissa’s eyes widened in surprise, and she followed up with another, more vicious streak of deadly enchantment.

Picturing a shield surrounding me, I sliced my arm through the air and prayed to every deity I could think of that it would work.

The blast hit the invisible shield and bounced back, ripping through Clarissa with a furious hiss. She doubled over and roared with so much outrage, I slapped my hands over my ears. Time seemed to slow as I watched her shoot a bolt of blood-red lightning at my father. He took it head on. Staggering back to an upright position, he aimed his glowing hands at her feet.

“Grab the soul, Daisy,” he bellowed as he threw a ball of fire at the bottom half of Clarissa.

Barreling through the heat of my father’s magic was almost debilitating, but the object of my desire was so close. Picturing June’s smiling face and hearing her sweet giggle in my head, I pushed through the golden blaze that had engulfed the lower half of the abomination who had destroyed so much that I loved.

“Mine,” I snarled as I went to grab June’s soul.

I was fast.

Clarissa was faster.

With a psychotic laugh, she threw June’s soul. It slammed against the side of the barrier and began to roll around the perimeter. “Good luck,” she growled, shooting death blows at both me and my father.

Running at a speed that made me forget where I was for a second, I tried to catch June’s soul. The faster it rolled, the faster I ran. Charlie’s tortured bellow of anguish could be heard through the barrier.

“Come to me, please,” I begged as I chased the orb that seemed to be spinning into oblivion.

Right as I was within reach, a disembodied hand shot up from the earth and disappeared with June’s soul.

“What the hell?” What had just happened?

Crawling on the ground I began to dig. Was it a ghost? Had my mother somehow broken the barrier and saved June’s soul? Was I seeing things?

“If I can’t have you, no one can!” Clarissa screamed in a fit of rage. “I’m just so terribly hurt you won’t see your daughter die, Michael. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s far more painful than your demise.”

My body felt broken. My spirit was crushed. It couldn’t end like this. It would not end like this. If I was going to die—which was looking like a distinct possibility—I was going to do everything in my power to take her down with me. I had nothing left to lose.

Turning my head, I gasped. My father was on the ground in a pool of his own blood as Clarissa continued to blast him with bolts of fire.

“Would you like a hug, Michael?” she inquired coldly as she moved in to wrap my father in a deadly embrace. “This will only hurt a bit, my love.”

The picture was sickeningly familiar. She was going to squeeze the life from my father just as she had done to Anna and Mike.

“Nothing is impossible,” I said. “Nothing is impossible. Nothing is impossible as long as I believe.”

I believed.

Raising my hands to the Heavens, I kept my eyes on Clarissa. “I believe,” I whispered. “I believe that good outweighs evil. I believe that love can conquer hate. I believe nothing is impossible.”

I covered the distance between us in less time than a blink of an eye. Faces raced through my mind as I wrapped my arms around Clarissa and pulled her away from my father. Gideon’s face. My mother’s face. Gram’s face. Steve’s face.

The images came faster—June, Missy, Heather, Jennifer, Tim, Candy, Sam, Emma, Sophia, Birdie. The faces were beautiful. The faces were love.

“Love trumps hate,” I said as the feeling of fire lit with gasoline raced under my skin.

Clarissa’s struggles didn’t stop me. Her vitriolic words didn’t reach my ears. I heard Gideon’s voice. My father’s voice. My mother’s voice. If these were my last moments, I was blessed to have the people I loved with me.

Smiling at the murderous Angel in my arms, I kissed the top of her head. Her struggles grew frenzied and desperate when she realized I was about to play her at her own game.

I squeezed. I squeezed as hard as I could. My embrace was destroying her and my kiss was that of death.

“What goes around comes around,” I whispered in her ear. “Into nothingness. Nevermore to be seen. Neither here nor there nor in between. Be gone, Clarissa. Your time is over.”

She popped—then turned to ash in my arms. Her remains scattered as the barrier cracked and fell. My limbs felt like lead. The loud ringing in my ears made me dizzy. Dropping to the ground, I let my head fall between my knees and I gasped for air.

The touch of my father’s bloody hand on my cheek was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

“Is it over?” I asked as the sun rose higher in the sky.

“It is, Daisy,” he replied. “Clarissa has been destroyed.”

Holding back the sob of relief was impossible. My body shook and my father held me tight. “June?” I whispered.

“Gone,” Tim said, squatting down beside me and wrapping a blanket around me. “Charlie is searching the grounds for her soul. Jennifer is with him. He is unsure it was destroyed. Says the soul disappeared.”

I nodded and glanced around for my mom. Was it her hand I saw?

She floated over, pressed her ghostly body against mine and beamed at my father. “You two are my heroes,” she whispered. “The loves of my life… and death.”

“Was it you who saved June’s soul?” I asked her, wiping my tears with the sleeve of my shirt.

She shook her head. “I only wish it had been.”

“So do I,” I told her.

Missy approached with huge eyes. “Dude,” she choked out. “That was… amazing.”

“One way to describe it,” I said, grabbing her outstretched hand and standing up. “Where is Heather?”

“Gideon and Candy are awake now,” Tim said, laying his hands on Clarence and healing him. “Heather is assisting them and bringing them up to speed. They will be here shortly.”

Missy swayed as she pulled me up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Umm… I should be asking you that question.” Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground with a giggle. “Back up,” she warned, grinning.

I didn’t find anything funny about her almost passing out. Right now, I needed everyone I loved to be okay. We would need to be strong for Charlie. And ourselves, in our heartbreak over June—if it came to that. I still struggled with what I’d seen. Was June truly gone?

“Missy,” I said, bending down to help her, only to be belted in the head by an excited ghost.

One by one, the ghosts left Missy. She laughed as they jettisoned out of her, bowing to her in thanks. The Tasmanian Devil spotted Tim and seated herself on the top of his head as he healed my father.

“You have a new friend,” I said as a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

“I can see that,” Tim said with an exasperated sigh as he tried to swat the Tasmanian Devil away.

“Alana?” a very familiar voice asked. “Is that you, Alana?”

“Oh my God,” I gasped as I quickly moved and shoved my mother behind me. “Gram?”

“Daisy?” she asked, confused. “Did you just shove your mama?”

“Umm…” I wasn’t sure how to answer the question.

“That is rude, and I didn’t raise you like that, little missy,” she said, slapping her hands on her hips and clucking her tongue. “If you weren’t taller than me, I’d take you over my lap and whoop your hiney.”

“Seriously?” I asked, trying not to laugh as my heart filled with unimaginable joy.

“I’m as serious as a cat trying to cover his crap on a marble floor,” she informed me. “Now move on out of the way. I haven’t seen my baby girl since that sad day thirty-five dang years ago.”

“And umm… what happened on that day?” I asked with a wince, knowing it was a question that was going to cause Gram to crawl up my butt.

“Daisy,” Gram griped. “I’m about to get my knickers in a knot.”

“Don’t you go doing that, Gram,” Candy said, jogging around the house with a grin on her face. “Daisy is doing what has to be done. Answer the question and we’ll explain later.”

Gram’s eye narrowed at Candy. “What’s in your mouth?”

Candy paled and looked mortified. She’d just performed a black magic ritual and she was scared of a tiny ghost. “A toothpick,” she mumbled.

“Yep,” Gram said, waving her finger at a sheepishly grinning Candy. “It’s lookin’ mighty clear to me that you don’t know whether to scratch your watch or check your ass. We’re gonna start some etiquette lessons. Tomorrow.”

“I’m in, Gram,” Candy said with a thumbs up. “I’m gonna fail, though.”

“We’ll see about that,” Gram said with a twinkle in her eye. “Now back to Daisy’s crazy question. Your mama died in an accident thirty-five years ago. Broke my heart. I know I just saw her. You need to move on out of the way so I can hug my girl.”

I was terrified and thrilled. She hadn’t repeated the line about my mom committing suicide and following her lover into the darkness that Clarissa had planted all those years ago. The lie had ended with the end of Clarissa. I hoped.

I was still scared.

“It’s fine, Daisy,” Gideon said, approaching me with a mixture of awe and love on his face. “The spell has been broken. And from what I understand, you broke it.”

I let out a little yelp of joy. Gideon was my other half. I felt my most whole when he was near.

“I am so proud of you and angry at you,” he told me in our secret form of communication.

“Yep, well you could have warned me that Candy was going to carve you like a turkey,” I shot back. “That was a seriously bad moment for me.”

“Wasn’t all that fun for me either,” he admitted. “And it wasn’t even necessary in the end.”

“Nope. The asshole Angels—as Candy Vargo would say—never showed.”

“Not surprising.”

“My daughter saved the day,” Clarence announced with pride, getting to his feet with help from Tim. “She was splendid—a true thing of beauty.”

I rolled my eyes a little. “I wouldn’t describe it that way, but thank you.”

My father’s smile lit me up. “No, my dear, thank you.”

I smiled back at him. I didn’t regret a single thing I’d done. I would defend him again in a heartbeat.

“Mama?” Alana said, peeking out from behind me.

“Ohhhhhh!” Gram squealed and zipped over. “Baby! I have missed you so much. Been a hole in my heart for a long dang time.”

They hugged each other and danced on the cold breeze. I stood between my father and Gideon—two of the three most important men in my life—and smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Life is getting back to normal,” my father said with a satisfied sigh.

His definition of normal was warped, but I agreed completely. This was as normal as we got.

“Daisy,” Steve said, floating out of Missy with Emma and Sophia in his arms.

Steve rounded out the trio of the most important men in my life. His love and friendship had made me who I was right now, and I’d like to think I’d done the same for him. While our life together hadn’t exactly worked out in the traditional fashion, it had worked out perfectly for us.

“Hi, hot stuff,” I said, smiling at the way the girls looked so happy in Steve’s embrace. “Was the Missy field trip fun?”

“Yausssss,” Emma squealed, bouncing in Steve’s arms.

“Yes,” Sophia said, as clear as day.

My heart began to ache and a piece of it tore away, but I held my sadness inside. The beauty that was happening before my eyes was so special. Steve’s smile was heartbroken, yet filled with joy.

Emma, Sophia and my beloved Steve were no longer decaying corpses. An ethereal and somewhat blinding golden glow surrounded them. They were restored to who they’d been before they’d passed. Steve’s eyes twinkled mischievously and his smile would stay etched in my heart until the end of time.

“I’ve found my purpose, Daisy,” he said softly.

“I know,” I said, barely above a whisper. Sucking my lips into my mouth, I tried to memorize every inch of his beautiful face. I knew it was the last time I would ever see it.

His smile widened. “Don’t be sad, my Daisy. You have been my purpose and my blessing,” he said. “To see you happy was my mission.” His gaze rested warmly on Gideon. “I wanted Daisy to find someone who would love her as much as I do… and in ways I never could. Will you promise me you will love her always?”

“Until the end of time,” Gideon said, bowing his head to Steve. “You have my word, my friend.”

I stepped forward and reached out to touch the golden glow surrounding Steve, Emma and Sophia. It was warm and inviting—felt like silky liquid. Trying one last time to commit Steve’s face to memory, I pushed away the frantic need to beg him to stay. It was selfish and wrong. If you loved someone, you let them go.

It was time to let go.

“Princess Emma and Princess Sophia, please take good care of each other and of Steve,” I said, curtseying to my little friends.

“We love you, Princess Daisy,” Sophia said. “And we love Mr. Steve.”

“We are very lovable,” Emma reminded me.

“Yes, you are,” I told her as they began to fade away.

I felt Gideon’s hand on my shoulder. He was my strength. My rock. My love.

But a section of my heart traveled into the light. It would forever belong to the sweet man with the dark curly hair and the bright blue eyes.

“Goodbye,” I whispered, waving back at the happy princesses.

They were indeed going to get their happies. And they deserved them.

“You okay?” Gideon whispered in my ear.

“I’m happy sad,” I told him. “A very wise little girl told me that you can’t be happy if you don’t feel sad sometimes. It’s okay to be sad and cry. You need to have your feelings, or they will have you.”

“A very wise little girl indeed, Princess Daisy,” Gideon said, taking me into his arms. He held me close and let me cry.

He was my Prince Charming and the love of my life all rolled into one beautiful, deadly package.

“What the actual fuck?” Candy shouted. “Charlie, get your ass back here. NOW.”

The disembodied hand had returned.

And June’s soul was in it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Holy shit,” Jennifer shouted, skidding to a stop with Charlie right behind her. “Is that a floating arm?”

While I was used to random arms and legs lying around, Jennifer was not. “It is,” I said, pulling her back and shooting Tim a look.

I didn’t know what was happening. But I did know that Jennifer was one hundred percent human. There was no way I wanted her near a floating arm. I had no idea if anything else was attached to it.

“On it,” Tim said, leading Jennifer a safer distance away.

“June’s soul,” Charlie cried out. “We still have fifteen minutes to get it back in her.”

His hope was contagious, and a collective sigh of relief was exchanged amongst everyone. As Charlie slowly walked toward the hand, it twinkled briefly and disappeared.

His knees buckled and he went down like a broken man.

“No,” I hissed. “Unacceptable.” I had a sick feeling I knew who the hand belonged to. I’d immediately narrowed it down to four people—for lack of a better word. “Show yourselves, you lying cowards.”

Again, without fanfare.

Again, without wind or lightning.

The Angels arrived.

The four stood in a row in my decimated front yard where a celestial war had just taken place—a war they were supposed to have refereed. Rafe, Gabe, Abby and Prue might look angelic, but to me they were trash. Weak, lying, horrible people. The blood on their hands from today could have been massive. From the bored expressions on their faces, it was clear they didn’t care. Their pretty exteriors belied putrid insides.

June’s soul was perched in Prue’s hand.

“You’re late,” I snapped.

“You’re rude,” Prue countered.

“Well, no thanks to you, I’m still here,” I said. “You have something that belongs to me.” I held my hand out for the soul.

“And you have information that belongs to us,” Abby reminded me with a sour expression on her otherwise beautiful face.

“Terms were broken,” I said in an icy tone. “You didn’t hold up your end. You snooze, you lose. Give me the soul. I’m the Death Counselor. It belongs to me.”

“Interesting you should mention that,” Rafe commented, staring at Clarence while speaking to me. He nudged Gabe and nodded in my father’s direction.

Gabe stared with rapt fascination.

Was the Archangel Michael a rock star in Heaven? From their reactions, I’d have to go with a yes. Otherwise, it was just weird.

“Stop staring at him,” Abby hissed. “He is nothing.”

Abby was a bitch. I was kind of done with bitches for the foreseeable future. However, they had something I wanted.

“The Archangel Michael is not nothing,” Heather said, stepping up to my side. “He is a more honorable Angel than any of you could ever dream of becoming.”

Rafe raised a brow and Gabe chuckled. “Not surprising,” Gabe said, referring to Heather’s words. “However, I wonder if she would jump to his defense if she knew.”

“Knew what?” my father inquired, eyeing the quartet warily.

Abby expression grew uglier. “That she’s your daughter,” she hissed.

“She already knows,” my father said in a frigid tone that gave the four Angels pause. “That is none of your business. I’d suggest we move on.”

The four were silent as they exchanged glances. Rafe shrugged and turned his attention back to me. “As I was saying, it’s interesting that someone who killed an Angel would think she still had the job of Death Counselor.”

“Enough,” Gideon growled. “Just because you were too fucking fragile to do your damned duty when you knew the crimes committed and the punishments that were to be doled out, you will not pass judgement on the one who did your foresworn work. Am I clear?”

Prue laughed and eyed Gideon with female appreciation. I wanted to slap her.

“You have no jurisdiction in our community,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Fallen Angels are beneath us.”

“Far beneath,” Gabe added with a condescending smile at Gideon.

“It would give me great pleasure to behead all of them,” Gideon said.

“That might be a little much,” I told him. “We still have to get June’s soul back.”

“Fine,” Gideon agreed begrudgingly. “However, I’m leaving the option open.”

“You dicks are correct for once. The Grim reaper does not have jurisdiction,” Candy Vargo announced, coming out from behind my father. I almost laughed. She had waited to make an entrance. It was fabulous. “But I have jurisfuckingdiction everywhere, assholes. Nice to see you losers again. Did ya miss me?”

The Angels backed away quickly. While it was every kind of awesome to see the Angels’ fear, it might not be helpful.

“Thank you, Candy Vargo,” I said. “I’d say the Angels are appallingly thrilled to see you. If I need your assistance, I will definitely ask for it. You feel me?”

“Okay-dokey,” Candy said, blowing a kiss to the Angels and stepping back.

“You know what?” I glared at all four. “I’m really tired. Today has sucked so far. Get to your bottom line. I need to eat and then sleep. But right now, I have about fourteen minutes to get that soul back to its rightful owner. It might be a serious blemish on your records if you kill an innocent.”

“Not to mention, she’s the human wife of the Immortal Enforcer,” my father added in a tone that made them think twice.

Charlie was literally shooting silver flames from his eyes. I could tell he was gauging what would happen if he simply went for June’s soul.

I didn’t want to find out.

“If I tell you what’s in the book, will you give me the soul?” I asked quickly before Charlie took the matter into his own dangerously sparking hands.

Prue smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. Part of me thought I was insane to trust them again, since they’d lied already. But the clock was ticking. If there was a chance to get June’s soul without anyone else being incinerated today, that was the way to go.

“Yes,” she said.

“Immediately?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Unharmed. In one piece?” I pressed. I wasn’t leaving anything to chance this time.

“Yessssss,” she hissed.

Heather pointed at her watch, then tossed me the notebook. There was no time to waste. I knew it might backfire, but we were at the point of no return for June. My gut told me to take the risk.

Clearing my throat, I read, “Out with the old. In with the new. Strange happenings are on the horizon. Paths will converge and truths shall be revealed. The future lies in the deadly hands of one. Choices will be made. Who makes the choices and what choices are made remain to be seen.”

All four of the Angels laughed.

“As I predicted,” Rafe said. “But before we return the soul, I’d just like to point out that none of you here have the ability to put it back in without killing your friend.”

That was not what I wanted to hear.

“Can you?” I demanded, wondering what price I would have to pay to make that happen. Whatever it was, I would gladly pay it.

“Interestingly, no,” Rafe said. “It was removed by the Angel of Mercy. It must be replaced by the Angel of Mercy.”

“That might present a little problem,” I snapped. “Did you know this all along? You got what you wanted, knowing I wouldn’t get what I wanted.”

“All you asked for was the soul,” Abby remined me with a brittle smile. “You didn’t say anything about the safe return to the owner.”

“Are all of you flying freaks so damn literal?” Candy demanded.

“We are,” Gabe said, backing away a little.

“Disgusting,” my father said, staring daggers at the group. “A deplorable representation of our kind.”

“Be that as it may,” Rafe said, uninterested in rising to the bait. “As the text said, there are choices to be made. Who makes the choices and what choices are made remain to be seen.”

I blew out an exasperated breath and willed myself not to imprison them in an iron cage. “Riddles won’t work. I have ten minutes.”

“The Angel of Mercy job is open, Daisy,” Prue said. “You might want to think about taking it.”

“Are you out of your freaking mind?” I shouted. “I’m the Death Counselor. There are no others. I’m the last one. The balance would be thrown off and that would cause a shitshow. And that’s only one of the problems. I’m not Immortal—which I would think is a huge issue. Plus, there is no way in hell I would be able to send souls to the darkness. That’s not how I roll. But hey, here’s an idea to chew on. Why don’t one of you take over the job to make up for fucking up today?”

“Daisy,” Gram snapped. “While shit and damn are just fine in a pinch, we do not drop the f-bomb.”

I closed my eyes and nodded contritely. “Sorry, Gram.”

“I say fuck all the time,” Candy pointed out.

“Yep, I know,” Gram said. “We’re gonna tackle that after we get you to shave your legs regularly.”

“Fuck,” Candy muttered.

My father seemed as confused as I was. As was Gideon, Heather and Tim. Charlie was still plotting how to get June’s soul back while causing as much harm to the Angels as possible.

And we had less than ten minutes.

“I can’t be the Angel of Mercy,” I said, trying to make them understand. “For all the reasons I told you. I’m the Death Counselor. I am good at it and I love it.”

“You are not the only Death Counselor,” Gabe said. “Your arrogance is astonishing.”

“Actually, yours is,” I muttered. “Where is this other Death Counselor?”

“She will arrive soon,” Rafe said.

“Okay,” I said, ready to headbutt him. “I’ll bite. Define soon.”

The Angel’s eyes traveled down my body. It didn’t feel sexual to me, more curious. However, Gideon growled and put his arm around me possessively.

“Answer me,” I insisted. The Angel was cruising for a deadly bruising from the Grim Reaper.

“Nine months,” he replied, staring at my stomach.

I grabbed Gideon so I didn’t hit the dirt. My knees felt shaky and I was positive I’d misinterpreted.

Candy cackled. “We’re gonna have a baby to spoil,” she shouted.

Maybe I hadn’t.

My gaze jerked to her. “We use condoms,” I shouted.

“Don’t matter,” she said, still grinning like a fool. “What’s fated is fated. I just didn’t think Gideon’s little swimmers would work anymore. He’s old.”

Gideon’s arms tightened around me.

“I don’t…” he began.

“Know what to say?” I finished for him.

“I’m shocked,” he said.

I was thrilled. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to scream and dance with joy. But there were two issues standing in my way. The Angels didn’t deserve to see my happiness. Most importantly, I had no clue how Gideon felt.

“Happy shocked. Or horrified shocked?” I asked, then held my breath.

“Overcome with joy shock. Over the moon shocked. Humbled shocked, but…”

“But?” I asked.

“But it’s your decision,” he said, tempering his elation.

There was no time to play games. I wasn’t a game player anyway. “I love you. I want the baby we made together. You have made me the happiest woman in the world. We good?”

“More than good,” Gideon replied. “We’re also running out of time.”

He was right. Charlie was ready to explode.

My earlier thoughts raced through my mind and consumed me with guilt. Why was there even a doubt in my mind? I had the chance to save one of my dearest friends. Only minutes ago, I wondered the price I would have to pay to make June whole again. I was certain whatever it was I would gladly pay it… yet, now I wasn’t as sure.

My mind was a chaotic hot mess. I went back to my old standby… a list.

Was this going to make me Immortal? Probably a good question to ask.

Could I stand living forever? I couldn’t answer that. I was forty.

Would it be an issue if I wasn’t sure I believed in God? Most likely.

Could I make the decision to send ghosts to the darkness? Probably not.

I would be in direct opposition of the man I loved and the soon-to-be father of our child. Would that cause a wall between us? Again, no clue.

Could I live with myself, if I didn’t save June’s life?

No. I could not.

I had the muddiest clear answer in the world. And I was going with it.

“Five minutes,” Charlie said tersely.

“Yes,” I said, taking June’s soul from Prue’s hands. “The answer is yes. I will be the Angel of Mercy.”

“Excellent,” Prue said. “And so, it shall be recorded,” She waved her hand and shimmering yellow crystals fell from the sky and covered the lawn. “Daisy Leigh Amara-Jones shall hence forth be graced with the title the Angel of Mercy.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it,” Prue confirmed. “Job is yours now whether you change your mind or not. You’re stuck.”

I nodded. “I have to go,” I said, turning and moving toward the house.

“Wait,” Abby snarled. “Is that a human?” She pointed at Jennifer in shocked surprise.

“I am,” Jennifer said.

“And you were witness to all of this?” Abby demanded.

“Damn straight,” Jennifer confirmed with a thumbs up. “Much better than Twilight.”

“Unacceptable,” Abby hissed, waving her hand in a circular motion at Jennifer.

Jennifer cried out and fell to the ground.

“What did you do to her?” Tim roared, sounding scarier than I’d ever heard him. “ANSWER ME.”

“She’ll be fine, Courier,” the bitchy Angel growled. “I wiped her memory of all of this. She has not been harmed.”

“Says you,” Tim snapped, picking up Jennifer carefully and shielding her from further abuse.

“Oh,” Rafe yelled as I took the porch steps two at a time. “A couple more things.”

I paused with my back to him. I seriously didn’t have time for this. “What?” I turned and faced the arrogant ass.

“Be prepared to fail. Reintroducing a soul into a human body is rarely successful.”

“Fuck you,” Candy snarled at him. “Might have wanted to start with that up front.”

He shrugged and laughed. “Daisy will still be brought up on charges for killing her predecessor. A tribunal shall be announced shortly.”

“Is that all?” my father demanded, walking menacingly toward the Angels.

“Almost… Dad,” Rafe said. “I’d say it was nice to finally meet you, but it’s not.”

The Archangel stopped dead in his tracks. My father stared at the Angels. There was little to no emotion coming from either side.

“Wait. What?” Heather shouted. “We’re related to those lying shitbags?”

And the world kept spinning off its axis. I’d have to absorb the stomach-churning news of my extended family later. There were far more important matters at hand than being distantly related to assholes.

“Go, go, go!” Charlie shouted. “Three minutes.”

Using my freakish speed, I raced up the stairs. My friends were right behind me.

This had to work.

Screw the Angels. They lied about other things. They could have lied about this.

“Stay with me, June,” I whispered as I touched her icy coffin. “I need you back. Charlie needs you to come back. We all need you.”

Winning was the only option.

I was the new Angel of Mercy.

I was making new rules—and losing was out of the question.

The End… for now

More In The Good To The Last Death Series

ORDER BOOK FIVE NOW!

Midlife is definitely a journey. The road has massive potholes.

And the crisis… it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

Being forty is supposed to be freaking fabulous not fatal.

Taking on a daunting new job minus the description isn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made, even if it was to save a friend. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn out to be the stupidest… or deadliest.

Why can’t things stay the way they were? I love my old job. Supergluing ghosts back together and solving their issues is its own reward. Not to mention, I’m seriously good at it. Although, I must say, I’m ridiculously excited for the new Death Counselor’s arrival in nine months...

Adding to my problems, there are four new angels in town who are riding my butt and judging every move I make. Literally. Who knew destroying one Immortal could cause me so much trouble? If I’m found guilty, I’ll be pushing up daisies.

Luckily, my nutty friends have my back and the Grim Reaper has my heart. What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing is impossible. I am living proof. Let’s just hope I live to prove it.

Robyn’s Book List

(in correct reading order)

HOT DAMNED SERIES

Fashionably Dead

Fashionably Dead Down Under

Hell on Heels

Fashionably Dead in Diapers

A Fashionably Dead Christmas

Fashionably Hotter Than Hell

Fashionably Dead and Wed

Fashionably Fanged

Fashionably Flawed

A Fashionably Dead Diary

Fashionably Forever After

Fashionably Fabulous

A Fashionable Fiasco

Fashionably Fooled

Fashionably Dead and Loving It

GOOD TO THE LAST DEATH SERIES

It’s a Wonderful Midlife Crisis

Whose Midlife Crisis Is It Anyway?

A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis

My Midlife Crisis, My Rules

You Light Up My Midlife Crisis

SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES

Ready to Were

Some Were in Time

No Were To Run

Were Me Out

Were We Belong

MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES

Switching Hour

Witch Glitch

A Witch in Time

Magically Delicious

A Tale of Two Witches

Three’s A Charm

Switching Witches

You’re Broom or Mine?

The Bad Boys of Assjacket

SEA SHENANIGANS SERIES

Tallulah’s Temptation

Ariel’s Antics

Misty’s Mayhem

Petunia’s Pandemonium

Jingle Me Balls

A WYLDE PARANORMAL SERIES

Beauty Loves the Beast

HANDCUFFS AND HAPPILY EVER AFTERS SERIES

How Hard Can it Be?

Size Matters

Cop a Feel

If after reading all the above you are still wanting more adventure and zany fun, read Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures, the romance novel budding novelist Rena helped wicked Evangeline write in How Hard Can It Be?

Warning: Pirate Dave Contains Romance Satire, Spoofing, and Pirates with Two Pork Swords.

Note From The Author

If you enjoyed reading My Midlife Crisis, My Rules, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them.

You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!

Many thanks for your support,

~ Robyn Peterman

Want to hear about my new releases?

Visit robynpeterman.com and join my mailing list!

About Robyn Peterman

Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper. Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke (the drink not the drug LOL) with extra ice in a Yeti cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her super-hot hubby and collecting stray animals.

A former professional actress with Broadway, film and T.V. credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count.

Writing gives her peace and makes her whole, plus having a job where she can work in sweatpants works really well for her.

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