ONE
“Blissful, you’ve got to get ready for the hunt of a lifetime.”
I rolled my eyes and pinned my lips shut. As much as I wanted to argue with Ruth and Alice that I had already hunted the ghost of a lifetime, I knew being contrary wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Oh?” I quirked a brow. “The hunt of a lifetime?”
“Well, yes. Ruth wouldn’t claim that if it wasn’t true.” Alice Cassidy, a plump woman who always carried a tin of cookies in her purse, pulled a pair of green pants splotched with dark olive and khaki blobs from her handbag.
The green pants had short legs and were slimmer than Alice. “Who are those camouflage pants for?”
Ruth Biggs, a thin woman with her white hair pulled into a bun and an attitude for no nonsense, pointed a finger at me. “Those are for you.”
My gaze shifted between the two women. “Why is that?”
“Because, Blissful,” Alice cooed, “you’re going to need the camouflage. We’re headed into the forest.”
“To hunt ghosts,” I said dryly. “I’ll need camouflage?”
Ruth and Alice exchanged a look. Alice replied, “Yes. What’s so confusing about that?”
I raked my fingers through my hair. I didn’t want to explain that it made no sense to wear camouflage around spirits. It wasn’t as if the spirits cared if they saw us or not.
Oh, by the way, the name’s Blissful Breneaux, and I see dead people. I talk to them, too, and send them into the light. It’s a thankless job really. For the most part, unless I’m helping out a civilian, regular people don’t care about my skills.
Perfectly fine with me. I don’t live my life trying to make others happy anyway. That’s not my goal.
“Can you explain to me again why we’re going to the forest? I don’t understand.”
“Because, Blissful”—Alice thrust the pants into my arms and shooed me into my bedroom—“this is the one night a year when the Backwoods Banshee is guaranteed to show up.”
I slipped out of my super comfy if not fit for society leggings and shimmied into the pants.
“Do these come with a shirt?”
“Oh, I’ve got that,” Ruth answered from the hall. I opened the door wide enough for my hand to slide through and felt something stiff slip into my palm.
I squeezed the door shut and stared at the hideous button-down. It was thick with buttons all the way to the collar. I rolled my eyes and thanked the heavens that my boyfriend, Roan Storm, wouldn’t be coming along for this little jaunt through the woods before I yanked off my shirt and pulled on the new one.
When I was fully dressed, I stepped into the hall. “Well? How do I look?”
Ruth and Alice stared at me before turning to each other and bursting into laughter.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “What?”
Ruth wiped tears from her eyes. “Nothing. You look perfect, Blissful.”
I shot her a hard look and stomped back to my bedroom to find a mirror.
My naturally purple hair was the only saving grace about my appearance. Seriously. The pant legs came up to my ankles, and the shirt hung down to my knees. I looked like—heck, I don’t know what I looked like, but whatever it was, I didn’t need to be seen in public this way.
“Oh no,” I said. “This isn’t going to work.”
Ruth and Alice rushed in. “You look fine.” Ruth grabbed my shirt and tucked it forcefully into my waistband. “No one will say anything.”
“Yes,” Alice agreed, “they’ll all be dressed just like you. Plus it’s dark. There’s no need to worry. It’s not a fashion show.”
I brushed Ruth’s hands away and rocked back on my heels. I folded my arms. “What do y’all mean, this isn’t a fashion show and no one will say anything? I thought we were doing this alone?”
