Page 14 of Hot Ghoul Summer (Pine Ridge Universe)

“ M olly, this is Gloria.”

Gloria is a gorgeous ghost with dark hair and a beautiful white gown that came straight out of some vintage photoshoot. I stick out my hand, and I’m shocked when something like warm gelatin briefly surrounds mine.

“And this is her husband, Wes.”

“He wouldn’t let me come without him. He’s gonna hold my spirit bottle so I can help out with this little theatrical production.” She beams, eyes glittering with excitement.

“I’m also the wheel man.” Wesley, a lean, graying man with a killer smile gestures to the minivan with black tinted windows. “I had to borrow this from Manny’s Automotive. I don’t want it filled with bullet holes, okay?”

“We’ll do our best,” Toby says tersely.

“All right. Let’s ride, then.”

“Let me drive,” Sera murmurs.

It makes sense. She’s playing me after all—at least partially.

“You guys can’t die, right?” I whisper nervously.

Sera reassures, “Not in my morrigan form.”

“Already done it, sugar.” Gloria grins.

Wesley groans and sits in the very back with me.

“You mortals stay down. I mean it,” Toby snarls, drawn up to his towering height and full flame-y hotness.

“Yes, we promise.” I blow him a kiss.

Yeah. I’m fucked up now. Part of me wonders what it would be like to ride him in full Reaper form, and I know he’d let me try.

But would I get singed?

Musketeer wiggles his stubby legs, trying to make it onto the seat until I pick him up and give him a boost. “Good boys. You stay little until you get out of the car,” I whisper.

“Okay. Here we go.” Sera puts the car in drive.

THIS IS EITHER A WONDERFUL idea or a very bad one.

Sera stops the car on the edge of the trail and steps out. She pulls the hood of her windbreaker up and adjusts it to conceal the sides of her face. When she walks, she bows her head so that her hair is hanging low, covering her face even further. She currently looks human. As soon as Garmin appears, she’d better swap forms.

As for me, I’m in my harmless little human suit. I put my arm through Sera’s and listen to the sound of Musketeer waddling in the bushes alongside the trail.

“Are we early?” Sera breathes.

“No.”

“Where are they?”

“Ambushing us,” I whisper, and I’m right.

“There she is. Hi, Molly!” Gary Garmin’s voice has a note of hysteria in it as he waves his swollen, discolored hand.

“Stop where you are,” I say, switchblade shining in my hand. My eyes move to the dark recesses of the trail. Theo Cross’ car and one of his telltale black SUVs are pulled off in the rutted ditch. He steps from the vehicle, gun trained on me.

Ha. Let him try.

But if he were pulling that on the real Molly?

It’s all I can do not to explode in a ball of flames just thinking about it.

“She’s there! Here she is.” Garmin is already edging back toward his car.

“He’s the scum that killed your brother,” I hiss, pointing at Garmin. “She’s the pawn. I was there that night. I saw the whole thing.”

“What? No, Theo, it was him! He’s the one! I tried to tell you first, remember? The guy in the sweatshirt?” Garmin pleads, scrambling into his car as fast as his injuries allow.

Gunshots fire, hitting Garmin’s car.

Sera doesn’t wait for me to nudge her. “Help!” she screams, turns, and runs.

And like any good thug, Cross chases, gun firing.

Sera slumps with a cry, falling to the ground.

“You got her! There. It’s all over. Good job,” Garmin says in a thin, high voice. His normally flushed face is the color of cream.

Cross says nothing. He looks at Garmin. Looks at me. Looks at the still body on the trail.

“Sorry, Gary. That wasn’t enough. I don’t know who killed Nicky. You say it was him. He says it was you.” The gun swings between Gary and me. “You also said it was the girl, Garmin. Were you lying then or now?”

“Then. I mean, no! I didn’t...”

“Grab him, boys. Grab them both.”

Show time!

I tug on my hood and burst into flame and scythe mode, eyes flaring with blue fire as Musketeer bounds from the woods, as big as the SUV he’s charging for.

Gloria swoops in, no longer the picture of beauty and friendliness, but a howling, translucent spirit with wild eyes and outstretched hands.

But Sera... Sera has a flair for the dramatic. She rises like a zombie, head slumped to one side, arms outstretched. “Gar-min. Gaaar-min,” she moans.

The chaos is beautiful. Gunshots fire, engines rev, and strong men start peeing their pants and praying.

Gary Garmin squeals like a castrated pig and revs his engine—driving straight toward Sera.

“Come up here, honey!” Gloria swoops in and yanks Sera aloft.

Garmin’s car smashes over Theo and one of his men before careening blindly down the trail.

“Musketeer, fetch!” I shout.

“Excuse me?”

I turn, wondering who the hell is crashing my party.

I’m face-to-face with a very confused-looking demon and a reaper in red. “Can I help you?”

“Well... We’re from Local 49. I’m Barry and this is Kevin. We’re here to pick up a Theo Cross and a Sy Russo?”

“Really?” I try not to break into a victory dance.

“Yeah, last-minute scroll adjustment. Killed in a hit-and-run?”

“Oh. Well, uh. They’re not mine, but I know who they are. There you go, mate.” I point to the smushed bodies of Theo and one of his henchmen.

“Girls?” I look up at Sera and Gloria.

“We’re going after the other two thugs, sweetie pie. I think we can turn those nasty men into darling choir boys, don’t you?” Gloria beams.

Sera rolls her eyes, but she’s smirking, her face now patterned bone and blazing eyes. “Let’s give it a try.”

“You do that, but get back to Molly, please. I don’t like leaving her alone.”

“Oh, Wesley will protect her. He’s quite a man, that man of mine,” Gloria gushes.

“Wonderful.” I have to find my dog—and the man who truly deserves to pay, the man who tried to sell my Molly out—three times and counting.

MUSKETEER LEAVES AN easy trail to follow. When I find him, he’s pawing at the roof of Garmin’s car, smashing it like a used soda can while Garmin curses and blubbers inside.

“You get out of that car right now,” I demand, marching over. “Musketeer, heel.”

Musketeer bats at the back tire one more time, and I hear a hissing snap as he severs one of Garmin’s brake lines.

“I’ll shoot you!” Garmin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a .22 pistol, practically lost in his pudgy hand.

I don’t budge. “Get. Out.” I brandish my scythe.

Bullets fill the air with short, harsh popping sounds.

And I just stand there, insubstantial, uninjured, and fucking brassed off. “You’re not very bright, Garmin. Just a talented liar. Out. Now!”

Predictably, Garmin doesn’t exit the vehicle. Less predictably—he floors it, throwing it in forward, and taking off down a side walking trail at about eighty miles per hour.

“Bloody hell. Boys, go back to Molly. Protect her!” I order and flee after Garmin. I can hear his car hitting every log and tree branch possible, but he doesn’t slow down.

Belatedly, I wonder if he can’t.

His brake lines...

What would happen if he just kept going?

He thinks he’s getting away—but he’s heading into the lake. There’s nothing beyond the edge of this trail but the dock for the water taxi—and the lake.

Rooted to the spot for a moment, I just stand and listen—until I hear the splash.

“Oh, no.”

There’s a thick, sulfuric scent behind me, and a harassed-looking demon comes barreling past. “If it isn’t a gang war in Detroit, it’s a party on the shores of Lake Erie! I’ve seen reps from three different unions here tonight!” she exclaims.

“Uh-huh. Your guy is in the water. Just went in.”

She sighs. “With cardiac issues, chronic health problems, and a bunch of fractures. What was he thinking?”

I say nothing. He was probably thinking he had to get away from the big, scary Grim Reaper or he was going to get killed.

Oops.