Hemah floated in front of me for far longer than the others. The ghost circled me twice and then once more.
“The Angel of Mercy can perform the spell.”
“Yessssss,” I sang and pumped my fists in the air. “Teach me. I’m a quick learner.”
Hemah shook Its ghostly head. “There is no time to teach something that would take centuries to learn.”
I was done. So fucking done. “Then why did you even check who could perform the spell? Is this fun for you? A psychotic game? Get to the mother of the child who is dying and tell her she has the power to heal her? And then… when the joy of being able to save her daughter settles in, you, the biggest and mostrepulsive fuck in the Universe, pull the rug out from under her. Sick. Sick. Sick and evil. There is nothing redeemable about you, Hemah. You were vile in life and you’re vile in death.”
Hemah didn’t flinch from my words. It stayed floating in front of me and took it. All of it. When It was sure I was done, It spoke. “If you let me inside you, I can guide your words and hands to create the spell.”
“What?” I asked, squinting at him. I wasn’t a Soul Keeper. I could go into the minds of the dead, and alive too, but I’d never carried the dead inside me.
Shitty Ritchie’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Did you just hit on my mother fucking figure?” he demanded.
“Umm… no. No, Hemah didn’t hit on me,” I said quickly, before Shitty Ritchie lost his shit. “Hemah wants me to harbor him. Big difference.” I looked at the ghost. “I’m not a Soul Keeper. It’s not my gift.”
Hemah arched a partially transparent brow. “Are you certain about that?”
Was I? I was pretty sure I was… “Do you know something I don’t?”
Hemah nodded. Chamuel joined It and floated at Its side.
“Daisy, Angel of Mercy and Death Counselor,” Chamuel said with a warm smile. “You have already claimed two of your gifts. There are several more that await you. They will become evident when you need them… very much like right now.”
I nodded so much I felt like a bobble head. Gideon moved to my side and took my hand in his.
“Ground rules,” he said, staring at both of the ghosts. “Daisy must invite you in. And you will leave the very second she tells you to get out. There will be no negotiating or stalling. You will not try to control her thoughts or actions other than helping with the spell. If you,” he said, staring daggers at Hemah, “do anything to put my wife, daughter, or any of the rest of us inperil, I will destroy you. There are ways to turn a ghost to dust… I know the ways and I will use them if necessary. Trust me on that.”
The Grim Reaper wasn’t messing around.
And he wasn’t quite done talking. “Granted, your word may be useless, but you shall give it now, Hemah. You shall give your word in front of the people who have forgiven you your abhorrent sins. Are you willing to make that commitment?”
“I am,” Hemah said. “I give my word in support of all you requested. I shall only aid the Angel of Mercy with the spell. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Gideon nodded curtly. He wasn’t totally convinced, but in the end, it was my decision if I would let Hemah inside me or not. My answer was yes. The minute I knew I could potentially save my daughter the answer was always going to be yes.
“How do we communicate?” I asked.
“Just think and I will hear it,” Hemah explained.
“Is that the way you’ll communicate with me?” I asked.
“Yes, Angel of Mercy,” Hemah replied.
I inhaled and exhaled. We needed to get to Alana Catherine. Now. But I had a name. My name gave me power. Hemah was going to use it. “You can call me Daisy,” I told the ghost.
“Is that what you prefer?” It asked.
I nodded. “It is. Do you prefer anything other than Hemah?”
“No, Hemah is fine,” It said. “And I shall call you Daisy.”
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands. “Hemah, get inside me. Everyone else, check your weapons.”
Gideon stepped forward as Hemah flew into me and disappeared. The feeling was chilly, but not painful.
“You in there, Hemah?”I asked in my mind.
