Theo rolled her eyes, looking irritated. “So what do you want me to do with him?”
“I don’t know, can’t you keep him company?”
Theo scoffed, holding up her hand to show me her taped and slightly bloody knuckles. “Do I look like a fucking babysitter?”
I scowled, growing increasingly fed up with both her and Ms. Thompson, who was now complaining loudly that I wasn’t giving her body the attention it deserved.
“Alright, bring him to the house and get him set up with some Netflix. Tell him I’ll come see him as soon as I can. If Mom’s home, see if she can spend some time with him.”
Theo rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You and your bleeding heart. Always taking in fucking strays,” she muttered on her way out.
‘Who was that!?’Ms. Thomson asked indignantly, crossing her arms over her translucent chest.
“My sister.” I sighed as I reached for the mortuary putty. Her lips were a little sunken in and could use some fluffing up.
‘She’s kind of a dick,’Ms. Thomson observed, and the corner of my mouth quirked up.
“Well… at least that’s one thing we can agree on,” I replied, pressing the putty under her lips. “Her bark is worse than her bite, though. She has a good heart.”
The spirit scoffed, and I chuckled.
“Now, can you try to be quiet for a few minutes? This next step is a little tricky; the color of your dress will be the least of your worries if I don’t tap your carotid artery correctly…”
The kid shocked the shit out of me and strolled right into a fuckingfuneral home.
The fuck?
“Why do you think he’s going in there?” Naomi wondered out loud, and I threw the car in park. Leaning over her slightly, I slid my Ray-Bans down my nose and eyed the large building through the passenger window.
“Jesus. This place is creepy as fuck,” I muttered.
This funeral home wasn’t like the ones I was used to seeing. This was clearly privately owned and was built into a massive Victorian-style house. The exterior was painted a deep phthalo green, and the large bay windows were trimmed in black. Steepgabled roofs gave the whole building serious‘haunted mansion’vibes, and I cocked my head to the side in awe.
I fucking loved it.
What a dope fucking building. Whatever asshole found this place and thought, ‘Hey, let’s cram it full of dead bodies,’ was a fuckinggenius.
“I’m going in,” I announced, and my sister burst out laughing before she realized I was being serious.
“What do you mean you’re going in? You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb. Look at you!”
I glanced down at my Benny Benassi T-shirt and faded black hoodie before glancing back up at her.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you supposed to wear all black to funerals? I’ll fit right in.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she chided, though she was grinning.
“Whatever, it’ll be fine. It’s open to the public, right? I’ll just pretend I’m shopping for Cassandra’s urn for when she inevitably dies from that giant stick she has shoved up her-”
“Okay, GO! Jesus, Cal.” Naomi chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get out of here before I tell Cass you’re talking shit about her behind her back again.”
I grinned and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Be right back, little gnome. Lock the doors, and don’t talk to strangers.”
“You’re—”
“Ridiculous, I know,” I finished her sentence for her as I got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me.
I pulled my hood up, shoved my hands in my pockets, and strode past the wrought iron fence and up to the outrageous double doors that led into the entrance of the building.
