Page 13 of The Devil and His Ghost

“Wow! It’s so beautiful,” she gasped. “Is this New York?”

“Sure is,” I answered, leaving her by the windows to head for my kitchen. I was in serious need of a hard drink after agreeing to something as outrageous as bringing a human here after breaking her out of a mental hospital.

I poured a shot of baijiu and downed it. I glanced across the room as I poured another and watched the teenager move about my living room, looking at everything with wide, gleaming eyes. Part of me wanted to panic about having another person who wasn’t a demon in my space, but I told myself it was fine. She was just a harmless girl. If anything, having her here would be like having a pet.

She circled back to the wall of windows and stared at the city beyond. She looked like a fish peering out of its glass bowl at the world outside. I smirked. That’s what she was—my new pet fish. I was busy pondering what type of fish would best suit her—maybe a Koi fish since she was gifted—when she bumped into my potted bamboo due to her focus on the outside world. I frowned and decided she didn’t deserve the comparison to such an auspicious fish. An annoyance like her was more like a common black carp.

“Your place is so cool,” she told me after managing to save the bamboo from toppling over. She drifted over, leaning on the kitchen island across from me.

I downed another shot of baijiu. “You think so?”

Before she could answer, her stomach let out a growl. I raised my brow at her while her cheeks turned red. I guessed food was important for a pet, though I couldn’t just grab a can of fish food to give her. Even though she was reduced to a fish in my head to abate my budding regret of bringing her here, she was a human who needed real food.

Such work taking care of a person, I sighed internally.

“What do you like to eat?” I asked her.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, almost sheepishly. “The food at Mountview was tasteless, and I can’t remember what I liked before I went in.”

“How long were you there?”

She braced her forearms on the island and looked up at the ceiling while thinking about her answer. She mumbled, “Was it six?”

“Six months?” I clarified, drinking another cup of baijiu.

“Years,” she corrected. “Six years.”

I choked on the alcohol and stared at her. Six fucking years?

She nodded solemnly, like she could read my shocked thoughts. “Yeah. My … My adoptive parents admitted me when I was eleven for seeing and hearing things, plus … Yeah. Just that.”

Six years without access to the real world sounded horrible. That meant she’d spent six years with only doctors, nurses, and psych patients for company. Six years with the same boring white walls, the same tasteless food, the same draining appointments that she knew weren’t actually going to help her because there was nothing wrong with her.

I couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve felt like to spend six years without good food or the fun that came from being free. The mere thought was an outrage. Suddenly, I felt a duty to give my pet fish real food.

“Go shower and get changed out of those clothes,” I told her, eyeing the gray sweatsuit all the patients had been made to wear at the mental hospital. “I’ll order us food.”

After getting her a pair of my clothes to change into and showing her the bathroom, I returned to the kitchen, where I placed an order for one of everything at the local traditional Chinese restaurant near me. My mouth watered in anticipation, already tasting the pork soup dumplings, braised pork belly, and peking duck, not to mention all of the other delicious items that they’d be bringing.

When the food arrived, I spread out every dish on my kitchen island, and since I’d ordered the whole menu, there was barely an inch of space left. I had to move some things to the counter to provide a spot for both Kendyll and me to sit at the island to eat. With the pot of pu-erh tea between our seats, the traditional and modern Chinese food experience was ready for my starved pet.

“Holy crap,” she gasped behind me.

I turned around. Her long black hair hung around her shoulders in dark, wet strands. My long-sleeved black shirt practically swallowed her, and she had to hold my joggers in one hand to keep them from falling down.

“I know I call you Ghost, but were they trying to turn you into an actual ghost in that place?” I grumbled, noting how frail she was.

When I agreed to bring her here, I was so focused on how she could take care of my place while I was gone or how we could get into some trouble fucking with ghosts and humans. I hadn’t considered the logistics of having a human girl with real needs living here, such as clothes that fit, food to give her sustenance, and so on. It was so much work.

“I don’t get why people would want a pet.” With a sigh, I quickly darted into my room to grab a belt before offering it to her. “Here. Use this to hold those up. We’ll get you clothes tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. She wrapped the belt around the joggers and tightened it so that her pants were as secure as they could be. Her green eyes peered up through her glasses to fixate on the hot food once more. “This is a feast.”

“Of course,” I told her, taking a seat at the island. “You need to start off your new life with the knowledge of what makes good food.”

She sat beside me, and I poured us both a cup of tea. It was like she didn’t know where to start first. She grabbed the thing closest to her—a scallion pancake—and sampled it. Her eyes lit up, and she hungrily grabbed more items around her.

Smiling with pride, I dug into the food myself, starting with the pan-fried pork and chive dumplings. “Okay. So let’s get down to business while we eat.”