Page 14 of The Devil and His Ghost

She made a sound of acknowledgement, her cheeks puffed out as she chewed on the lamb skewer and rice. Now she really looked like a carp with her lips puckered out and cheeks full.

I waved my chopstick pointedly before using it to grab a bite of the salt and pepper tofu. “You’re here until you find somewhere else to go. I won’t be here often since I’m a busy guy, so you’ll basically have the place to yourself. You can use my laptop to search for jobs or whatever.”

“I’m super glad to be out of that place,” she started melancholily, which was in stark contrast to her words. “But … this is all kinda scary. How am I supposed to make it out here when I don’t know anything about the world? I’m a mental patient with no formal education past sixth grade.”

I shrugged and finished off my first cup of tea. I topped mine off before doing the same for her. “That’s the beauty of New York City. There are so many unconventional ways to make money here. You just have to find your niche. What are you good at?”

She mimicked me, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“Well, start there. Find what you’re good at and then figure out what you can do with that.”

She pushed her glasses up her nose as she turned to look at me. “What are you good at?”

“Scaring people. Causing mayhem. Adult activities,” I merrily listed, grabbing food to put on my plate with each one. “And playing instruments.”

“You play instruments?” she asked excitedly.

I nodded and finished off my braised pork belly. “My go-to instrument is the guzheng or guqin.” I gestured to the two instruments upon their displays in my living room. “But I can play more than those. Some of my demon friends have even been tossing around the idea of starting a band together, though I’d obviously play something like guitar in that case.”

Her red bean bun became forgotten as she asked, “Can you play something for me?”

“Find what you’re doing first. Your reward can be the honor of hearing me play.”

She glared at me and grumbled, “Jerk.” She took her annoyance out on the poor bun with small, angry chomps.

We ate in silence for a bit before she perked up beside me and turned to face me fully. “I just realized, I don’t know your actual name. You have a name, don’t you, Mr. Monster?”

“Real name is Ruan Yitang, but you can call me Xander. Everyone does,” I told her.

She smiled softly. “Xander.”

We went back to our food, and I explained what she was eating as we did. She wanted to know the name of every dish, and I let her know what it was in both Mandarin and English. There wasn’t a single thing she turned her nose up at. So I guessed eating was something she was good at. Despite being a tiny twig, she had the appetite of a pro athlete.

All the dishes were gone, completely devoured by the two of us. We settled in our chairs, nursing the last of our tea.

“Thank you for the food,” she said. “I can clean up.”

I wasn’t going to argue with that. She had agreed to work around the apartment in exchange for being here. While she cleaned, I went to my linen closet where I stored extra bedding. I grabbed it all and went to my room where I made a pallet on the floor, and out of the kindness of my heart, I relinquished one of my four pillows to the make-shift bed.

“Are we not sharing the bed?”

I turned around to find Kendyll standing in the doorway of the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and her gaze bounced between me, the bed, and the blankets on the floor.

“Absolutely not,” I told her firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because the only person who gets to share my bed is the person I’m fucking, which obviously isn’t you, kid.”

She scowled and crossed her arms defiantly. “I’m not a kid. I’m almost eighteen.”

I laughed incredulously. “I wouldn’t care, even if you were eighteen. That’s still too young for me.”

Her lips parted slightly as she stared at me. I could practically see the mental cogs working overtime in her brain. What was she thinking so hard about? I had not a fucking clue. All I did know was that she was sorely mistaken if she thought our agreement came with physical perks.

Finally, she announced flatly, “You’re weird.”

I snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you.” I stepped around the bed and gestured at the pallet on the floor. “You can sleep there.”