Owen grasped the first box. “Where do you want them?”
I didn’t want a stranger in my house, so I directed him to set them by the door while I scanned the rest of the paper.
Harry floated out of the house and stopped next to me.
Owen blinked. “Is that a ghost?”
“Yup.” No point in lying when the country was experiencing a supernatural uprising.
“I’ve seen them around, but not had the guts to get close.”
Owen stepped toward Harry and swept his hand through his stomach.
“Rude,” Harry snapped.
Owen’s mouth fell open, and his eyes went wide. Harry disappeared, his startled yelp left floating on the breeze. Mike froze with two boxes in his arms.
I glanced at where Harry should be and back at Owen, folding my arms. “What did you do with my ghost?”
“Right here, Miss Roberts,” Owen grumbled with a shiver. “I feel discombobulated.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Harry.”
Owen blinked and shook his head, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “I think your… thing… possessed me.”
Harry yanked himself out with the sound of a wet balloon peeling from vinyl. “Pineapples,” he told the unfortunate human. “Pineapples every which way. Upside down pineapples.” He hovered for a heartbeat, his expression one of mortification before he disappeared again, making Mike snort. I scratched my temple.
Owen’s expression cycled between fight, flight, and something resembling the need to call a therapist. He settled on the fourth—getting the hell off the creepy doctor’s property. He stumbled toward the van, muttering something about TripAdvisor being right.
I narrowed my eyes. “What did you say?” Instead of answering, he dove into the van, slamming the door behind him.
Mike shrugged and dropped the final box at my feet. “I told them not to put him on my rounds today.”
“Not sure a brush with a ghost was on the risk assessment or job description.”
Mike smirked as he backed up and spread his hands. “Until next week.”
“Lose the idiot,” I instructed before he climbed into the van and took off.
I strode into my office and grabbed my laptop, pulling up the popular review site. My mouth fell open, and I growled low. “I’m going to murder a vampire princess.”
Pete let out a long, vibrating croak that sounded absurdly like agreement.
CHAPTER SIX
It’s all in the small print.
Hudson was still absent. Great. Glad to see we were being adults about this.
My texts to him sat in the message thread like an unruly lineup.
Are you alive?
We need to talk.
Your underwear drawer doesn’t close because you fold socks like they’re origami cranes, and I hate you.
All unsent. I am nothing if not a model of restraint.
