Page 20 of Dead Vengeance

I’m going back to telemarketing tomorrow.

If I can just get out of here alive today.

eight

Simon

Archer

At least it wasn’t the hot one.

Okay, that may seem cold, but how many times did I have to tell him to put that fucking gun away?

Did he listen? No. No, he did not.

And now I’m going to have to throw that rug out, and it will probably take me another six months to find one that matches the wallpaper so well.

It’s a short walk before I’m in front of him again, Simon de la Grange, looking just as smug and shifty as ever. Ugh, I wish I’d never let him in this house.

“Simon, get out of that body.”

“Urrgggfffff,” he replies.

He hasn’t figured out how to use the vocal cords yet, but I know exactly what he’s trying to say, so I reply, “Okay, but he didn’t shoot you, and now it’s over. Please, can you get out of there and—”

“Blfff!”

“Simon, I know. Give me one more month, and I’ll get it done.”

“Armmmfffff!”

“A week then!” I throw a hand towards the stairs. “You know, I’m dealing with a much bigger problem up there, and I would appreciate some grace right now, because after all, I am doing you a favour.”

He takes a step towards me, raising his arm to point, blood spilling all over the floor from the broken joint.

“Jesus Christ, if you get that on the sofa…”

“Armmmmffff.”

“I’ll put you back in your grave, back to sleep, then you’ll never get what you want. Now, I’m asking you nicely, respectfully, get the fuck out of that dead man! That is not your body!”

His arm extends regardless, pointing down the hall this time, and my heart, weirdly, skips a beat.

“You leave Liam out of this. This is between you and me, and you’ve scared him half to death as it is.”

Simon smiles then, with Raul’s face, and his smirk turns from mocking to lascivious. And I know exactly what he’s thinking, because he’s not the only one who’d like to take control of a body like Liam’s, just not in the same way.

I lower my voice to sound as authoritative as I can. “Liam’s not dead, and he’s not about to be. If you touch a hair on his head, I will send you straight to hell, one-way ticket. Get the fuck out of there. I’m not messing around anymore.”

He holds eye-contact with me for a long moment, as much as he can with that one remaining watery eye. Then it rolls to the ceiling before the entire corpse falls on the floor, properly dead.

I drop to Raul’s side, pulling his legs and arms out long, arranging his head as comfortably as I can.

“Kraa!” comes the excited screech from the window, accompanied by a frenetic tapping with that long beak.

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Simon drawls, now back in fully corporeal ghost form, taking a drag on his ghost cigarette.

“Could you put that thing out? You’re making my house stink.”