Page 73 of The Devil and His Ghost

“Are you alright?”

His gaze was trained on the floor, though it was unfocused, his mind far from here. “Mmn. Fine.”

He wasn’t fine. That much was obvious, so I tried to redirect his thoughts. “I know you’re a Mischief demon. Zagan, Perseus, and Dante are all Incubi. What kind of demon is Coldin that just the sight of him scares other demons?”

“He’s a Letum demon,” Xander answered almost robotically. “He’s Hell’s most dangerous kind of demon, one that lusts after only one thing. Death. Blood. Taking lives. He’s the Prince of Darkness’s favorite killer. Though, he’s under our supervision right now since he’s part of the band. He’s not allowed to kill unless he’s personally called in by Lucifer Himself on a job or unless it’s time for his one kill a month.”

“I see.” That description certainly sounded fitting for the stoic demon. He always had a sort of quiet yet dangerous air to him. I frowned and dropped my hands to my lap. “And that blue-haired demon … He was a Mischief demon like you, right? Why did he call you a low level demon when you’re the same kind he is?”

Xander scrubbed his clawed hand over his cheek and answered slowly, “Do you remember what I told you a long time ago about Mischief demons having the ability to gather ghosts for their own sort of collection?”

I recalled that information provided years prior and nodded. I still hated the idea, even now.

“Well, it’s like he said. He apparently has hundreds of ghosts under his command, and for a Mischief demon, the more ghosts you have, the more powerful you are. As they gather energy from hauntings and the like, that energy cycles back to the demon that owns them. So even though we’re the same type of demon, he’s far stronger than I am.”

“How does he know you don’t have any ghosts in your collection?”

“It’s something other Mischief demons can just sense about each other. Granted, I have a lot of energy stored up right now from other things. I can get power by scaring people myself, by getting a reaction out of humans with the chaos I create, and things like that. But it’s not nearly the same as that never-ending stream we can get from our ghosts. He knows that I’ll eventually run out of this type of burrowed power since Mischief demons can’t sustain it long term without constantly working to absorb more. Meanwhile, he can sit back and do nothing while still growing stronger through his spirits. I could sense his power radiating like a fucking lighthouse in the dead of night. Likewise, he could sense …”

“Sense?” I probed after his hesitation.

He shook his head, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “Sense my lack of power. My lack of ghosts.”

That troubled gaze of his made something ache within my own chest. For both of our sakes, I had no plans to rekindle things with Xander, and I didn’t want to get his hopes up for anything. But I also wanted to ease whatever monsters plagued his mind as he had always done for me, including tonight.

I nudged him gently and teased, “One. You have one ghost, remember?”

His weary eyes widened slightly while still locked on the ground, no doubt remembering the exchange we’d had that night years ago when he’d said those same words to me. He seemed to hold his breath now, and I wondered if it was because of the memories of that night or because the words suggested that I was his again.

At least for right now while he needed me.

Eventually, he turned his head slowly to meet my small, playful smile. He cracked his own grin, even though a shadow of pain remained within it. The sight made my heart constrict, because he probably took my words to mean the latter while also knowing how much of a lie they were. But for now, he seemed content to pretend, too.

“Yeah,” he croaked as he leaned in to press his forehead to mine. “I have one.”

Chapter 25

Kendyll

(Present Day)

THE LITTLE GHOST GIRL STRUGGLED to flip the page of the picture book. She must’ve run out of the energy to interact with the physical world like that, so with a small smile, I turned the page for her, which she and Catsper watched with wondrous undead eyes. The two hunched over the story book while I resumed my reading of the last patient file I’d found.

In the week since I’d stumbled upon this little ghost girl in Mountview, I’d managed to get her slightly more comfortable with me. When she saw me, she still hesitated, but when I’d wave with a smile or she’d see Catsper perched on my shoulder, she’d join me in whatever I was doing, whether it was taking photos, collecting papers to see if they contained any information about patients or the building, or just sitting on the rooftop for some fresh air. She still hadn’t revealed her name. She hadn’t said anything, yet. I wondered if she was mute in life and now silent in death, too.

While we hadn’t made much progress in communicating, we were still making baby steps in trust. She’d even brought another ghost out of hiding today, though he was skittish and unwilling to come too close to where we currently sat on the rug of the common room in the children’s ward. The new ghost was a teen boy in a patient hospital gown, and he hovered against the wall of windows. He constantly moved between standing and squatting with his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He couldn’t seem to decide on whether he wanted to brave coming closer or not.

So far, I’d gone through the random paper charts that had been left behind at the numerous nurses’ stations while Xander shadow-walked into the locked file room to sift through those charts. I didn’t want to unlock the file room since so many personal stories and histories were inside. Random trespassers loved breaking into abandoned “haunted” buildings, so I wanted to make sure those records would stay private if that happened. If Bethelma chose to open that room once she took over, I couldn’t stop her, but I’d protect the patients that did and didn’t haunt these halls.

I finished reading through the chart in my lap and closed the folder before stretching out my tired muscles. I sighed and pulled out my phone to check the time. My stomach soured slightly as I ignored the clock and instead opened a still silent text thread. Nothing from my brother, nor anything from me. The no service bar flashed, but I tried dialing his number anyway.

The piercing beep of the busy signal made my eyes close and my head hang.

Would he ever forgive me? Would he finally pick up the phone when I got done with this job and out where my call would reach him?

I shook the melancholy feeling away by distracting myself with the mysteries here at Mountview. I helped the little girl flip to the next page of her book again. Catsper purred and rubbed his head against my hand as much as he could while it hovered there. The new page depicted two fuzzy bears at a park, and one of them held the strings of numerous balloons. The phantom girl immediately brightened upon seeing them, and she tapped the image excitedly.

“Do you like balloons?” I asked her.