Page 57 of The Devil and His Ghost

I could just picture an overwhelmed Kendyll surrounded by a sea of apparitions that all fought to talk over each other in order to be heard. The mental image of her floundering to give everyone a chance while trying to ensure the show went smoothly had me reaching over to drag a hand lightly up and down her shoulder blade.

“I could barely get them to calm down enough to feed the information to Bethelma,” she continued with a weary rub to her face. She leaned into my touch, though she didn’t seem to notice her own response to me. “Even after the show was over, I had ghosts pleading that I pass on their message, so I talked to countless people afterwards, pretending that Bethelma told me to tell them that their loved one said …” She waved her hand to indicate whatever messages she’d been given tonight.

“Shit. That sounds like a lot in one evening,” I noted with a frown.

She nodded, offering me a bite of noodles between her chopsticks, which I leaned forward to accept. “Ever since the TV show got big and Bethelma became known as the ‘real deal’—” she air quoted with a roll of her eyes “—the people that flock to her live shows for live readings almost always have a spirit they’re hoping to talk to. Of course, not every dead person remains behind as a ghost as I’m sure you know.”

“Indeed,” I agreed.

“Still, a lot of people with a deceased loved one attached come, and there are just too many to keep up with on a live set. I told Bethelma to stop doing these shows, but she just sees dollar signs and won’t listen.”

“Should I pull a little Mountview trick and change up the date of your contract to end earlier?” I offered with a mischievous grin, half-joking but also ready to do just that if she wanted me to.

She narrowed her eyes and paused midchew like she was actually considering the offer. Eventually, she resumed eating. “Don’t tempt me. Anyway, how was your concert?”

It surprised me how natural all of this felt—eating a late dinner with her after work, cleaning up the kitchen after a meal, settling on the couch to watch TV and continue our hushed conversations. Nightly was wrapped around Kendyll so that the massive plushie’s wings cocooned her, and Catsper curled up on the couch between us, his translucent black body nearly invisible against the dark couch.

Was this what humans felt when they thought of home?

I liked it. I liked sharing a home with Kendyll.

I glanced sideways, only to find the human woman curled up, temple resting on the back of the couch. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed evenly, and her lashes fanned over her cheeks behind her glasses as she slept.

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, but I couldn’t hope to make sense of them all. Instead, I grasped at the ones I understood. I had three uninterrupted days with Kendyll. Technically, I had things to do with the band, and I’d find a way to do them. But for three days, Kendyll and I could make up for lost time. Not just lost time for the two of us but lost time for her. Already, the things I wanted to take her to do and see fired through my head. I’d make sure these three days were the best she’d ever fucking had.

Smiling, I gently plucked her glasses off her face before turning off the TV. I scooped her into my arms and carried her into my dark bedroom where I settled in the lush bed beside her.

She groaned lightly and stirred as she rolled over to face me. “What is it?”

Smirking, I draped my arm over her waist. “Nothing. Just moved you. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm,” she murmured incoherently and snuggled against my bare chest. “Good night, Mr. Monster.”

My chest warmed right where her cheek pressed. I squeezed her tighter against me and dropped a light kiss on her temple before whispering, “Good night, Ghost.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Chuckling, I nudged Kendyll with my elbow. “What does it look like?”

Her wide eyes scanned the store we currently stood in, and her mouth moved uselessly for a moment. Finally, she managed to screech, “It looks like a torture device shop.”

I placed my hand on her back and guided her through the different aisles, watching her look at everything we passed with a mixture of horror, curiosity, and even a flash of desire.

“Some of them are for pain, sure. But it’s a good kind of pain. You don’t have to worry about those things right now, though. I don’t anticipate you being interested in getting tied up and whipped anytime soon.”

“Or at all,” she practically hissed with a wild look at me. Though she couldn’t hide the fire in her eyes or the way the tips of her ears turned pink.

The adult toy and clothing shop had anything a person or couple could possibly need for their sexual endeavors. Kendyll practically stayed glued to my side like all of the devices and items around us might leap out and shock her. I grinned and held her close.

“Let’s start with this section,” I told her, stopping in front of the female toys.

An array of vibrators, dildos, and stimulators were displayed on the racks in their many colors and styles. She stared at them all with mouth slightly agape. Catsper, who basically lived attached to Kendyll now, floated up to bat a paw at a brightly colored vibrator, and his ghostly energy immediately made the device turn on in its box, vibrating and shaking the container.

Kendyll’s face went beet red, and she quickly swatted at my chest. “Turn that off!”

Laughing, I waved a hand to comply with her command. She let out a sigh of relief when the aisle we stood in went silent once more, and she gave a warning look at the one-eyed cat. He moved on to a section across the store where clothing hung, and he became distracted by a feathered boa.

“We can get whatever you want and however many you want,” I told Kendyll. “Feel free to look at everything and see what piques your interest. If you have questions, just ask me.”