Page 135 of Love at First Fright

The skeleton sprawled across the grass in something approximating human shape. Skull. Spine. Ribs. Arms. Legs. Wonky in places, missing bits in others, but recognisable.

By that point, even Bat looked impressed. “Huh. Actually thought you two would bollocks that up completely.”

I glared at him, mouthing, “Wanker.”

Brad lifted the PolterPulse, aiming it at the skull. The weapon hummed, charging up.

“What are you—”

Zap.

A beam of neon blue light hit the skull. Nothing happened. Brad frowned, adjusted his aim, and fired again. This time at the ribcage.

Zap.

Still nothing.

“Bloody hell,” Bat muttered. “What’s he doing, playing laser tag with a corpse?”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.

Brad moved methodically down the skeleton, zapping each major bone cluster. Pelvis. Zap. Collarbone. Zap.

“This is ridiculous,” Bat said, floating closer. “And he claims to be your company’s best ghost hunter?”

A snort escaped me before I could stop it.

“Is something funny?” Brad’s voice was sharp.

“No. Nothing.”

He holstered the PolterPulse and reached for his utility belt. Metal glinted in the fading daylight as he withdrew a wicked-looking knife I had no idea was in there. Had he seriously been marching around the very haunted manor with a knife that whole time?

Ice climbed up my spine. “What… what are you doing?”

The blade caught the light as Brad tested its edge against his thumb. Sharp enough to shave with, apparently.

“Blood offering,” he said, as casually as if he’d announced he was making tea.

“Excuse me?” Bat practically squeaked. “Oh, bloody hell no. Charlie, get away from him, now.”

I took a step back. “Listen, I didn’t sign up for this. There was nothing in Gerald’s contract about slicing myself open for the job.”

“Oh, please. It’s obviously not coming from you, mate.” Brad rolled his eyes. “Knowing my luck, you faint at the sight of blood.”

I opened my mouth to defend my honour, but Brad was already moving to the skeleton’s chest cavity, kneeling beside where a heart would have been. He held his left palm over the bones and drew the blade across his skin in one smooth motion.

The sharp hiss of his indrawn breath made me wince.

“I don’t like this,” Thomas said, his voice tight. “I don’t like this at all.”

Dark droplets fell steadily onto the yellowed ribs. Each drop seemed to soak into the bone, disappearing like water into sand. I watched, horribly transfixed. My stomach churned, but I kept my expression neutral. No way was I giving Brad the satisfaction of being right about the blood thing.

Brad straightened, pressing his bleeding palm against his jumpsuit. He cleared his throat and adopted what I could only describe as his professional ExorSquad Extraction Specialist voice.

“Margery Darke. By blood and bone, I compel you to manifest. Reveal yourself and answer our questions.”

Nothing happened.