Page 31 of The Devil and His Ghost

At the mention of her work, I recalled how she and I had ended up at this table. She worked for Bethelma.

“Ha,” I feigned a laugh. “It makes sense now. Are you the reason Haunted Days and Nightmares does so well?”

She nodded. “Yup. I’m Bethelma’s special secret to success.”

“I knew she didn’t seem all that gifted.”

She scoffed. “Gifted? Please. The only thing that old bat is gifted in is deception and acting. I go to the haunted locations before and during shooting her show. I build a rapport with and gather information on the ghosts there. If there even are any. She uses what I tell her to create her show and tricks people into thinking she’s a medium.”

“How did she manage to snag you, a real Ghost Speaker?”

Kendyll smiled at me, but this time, the expression was coated in ice. “I found what I was good at.”

The response reminded me of those many years ago. I’d taken her in with the stipulation that she find what she was good at and leave. Something angry dwelled within her tone, but she smothered it by looking away before I could truly dissect what I saw and heard.

“You are good at it,” I confirmed with a nod. “So why aren’t you the host of the show? Why let Bethelma take the credit?”

“I don’t want my name and face out there for people to see.” Her gaze seemed to go right through me as she spoke, her voice growing small. In the next beat, she blinked and refocused on me with a flippant, “Not to mention, that wasn’t the contract I signed.”

“You have a knack for getting stuck in places you don’t belong. Asylums—”

“They aren’t called asylums anymore,” she corrected me.

“Legal contracts,” I continued, ignoring her. “What’s next? A demonic contract?”

She blew out an annoyed breath and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling. “It was an accident. I was eighteen. I thought she was being nice and offering me a normal job, not claiming the next ten years of my life where I’d have to do what she says and keep quiet about it.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that’s what she got for leaving without saying anything, but I bit back the knee-jerk response. We’d just met again after all these years. I didn’t think this sassy, grown-up version of Kendyll would appreciate the asshole remark.

“I can practically see some sort of retort pouring out of you,” she noted with a smirk.

I scratched my jaw and laughed softly. “I did good keeping it to myself, though.” Wiping away the guilty expression, I redirected the conversation back to how she wound up here. “How’d Bethelma even find you?”

“I saw an advertisement for a live show she was doing at a theatre, communicating with spirits and getting people in touch with their dead loved ones. I snuck in, because I thought she was someone like me. I wanted her guidance on what I should do with my ability. When I saw her and realized she was a huge fake, I confronted her privately after the show. I proved she was a fraud by actually talking to her dead mother who happened to be lingering there. She saw me as a cash cow, and her tune changed to overly friendly and supportive, which was how I ended up signing for a ‘job.’”

“Yikes.”

Alex, Bethelma’s other assistant, appeared beside us then. “Sorry to interrupt.” He placed a hand on Kendyll’s upper arm, “Kendyll, I—”

Her brows slammed down while she bared her teeth in a furious glare. She jerked away from him, and he quickly recoiled before holding up both hands in surrender.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a remorseful frown and wide eyes. “I forgot.”

“Forget again, and I’ll forget to use the brakes the next time you step in front of my car.”

His face paled, and he nodded hard. “O-Okay. S-Sorry. Um, I was just coming to say Bethelma is drunk. I’m taking her up to her room and turning in for the night myself.”

“Fine,” Kendyll snarled, turning her back on him. “Night.”

His shoulders slumped, and his hands fell to his sides. He offered me an embarrassed yet polite smile. “Good night to you both.”

I whistled with a wicked smile as he left, loving how fiery Kendyll was. All the poor guy did was barely touch her arm, yet she’d been ready to commit murder. I knew she had some bite to her back in the day, but it seemed she was all venom and fangs now. That fact made me want to save a front row seat to her show.

Her attention scanned the room once more, and it cooled as it did a slow sweep. Only then did I realize what she kept looking at.

This event was being held at an older hotel in LA, and among the live and well occupants were a dozen or so ghosts. Some floated around aimlessly like they didn’t even see the people here, lost in whatever world they’d made up in their dead head. Others chatted to fellow spirits as though just as much a part of the party as their human counterparts.

One ghost, the one Kendyll watched, seemed a bit more frantic. She wore an outdated yet elaborate ballgown with feathers and pearls adorning her updo. She flitted about the room, trying to ask different men to dance with her. They obviously couldn’t hear or see her, but for her, it came across as being ignored.