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Chapter Eight
My vision wavered as Melinda cut off my air. It was easy to think of spirits as harmless inconveniences, and they usually were.
I could ignore a spirit. The worst they could do was freak me out, threaten me, but they had no ability to affect the physical world.
Poltergeists happened when they snapped the tether to their body andremainedin this realm. They were rare, but because they were neither of this world or the next, they could interact with living things.
And byinteract,I meant strangle the ever-living shit out of me.
I kicked, but my feet went through her body. She wasn’t fully corporeal or fully ethereal, and I hadnoidea how to counter such a thing.
In the past, when I’d come across one, running away was my go-to option. She didn’t seem inclined to let me do that, though.
“Youshould have done as I said!”
Another roar echoed in the background, and her gaze shot up. She bared her teeth toward Hunter.
Which was a very strange reaction.
Neither spirits nor poltergeists tended to take notice of humans or supernaturals—other than vampires, who they avoided. They might make fun of them, but they were never afraid.
That wasfearon Melinda’s face.
I should have let Hunter in, risk to my virtue be damned.
I hit the ground hard, and it took a moment for me to realize what had happened. I’d slipped through her hand. It seemed she was still learning to control her powers, to remain corporeal.
I opened my mouth to invite Hunter in but only a painful croak escaped. My throat burned, and I knew without a doubt I’d sport some nasty bruises.
They’d be hard to explain to people without them thinking I was into some sort of kink. Worse, given my constantly single status, the coroner would assume auto-erotic asphyxiation. At least my eulogy would be entertaining.
I crawled backward, scooting away from Melinda as she waved her hand, like that would make it work again.
She narrowed her gaze. “I asked you for one thing! That’s it. You could have done that for me, and I wouldn’t behere.”
Typical self-entitled bitch. Her one thing had been murdering an innocent teen who already lived in guilt from the accident. Still, I had a moment of wondering what my life would have been like if I’d done what spirits wanted.
What if I started taking requests like some sort of concierge to the afterlife? Killing off people who had wronged them, setting shit right?
Would I have avoided being murdered by a rich lady who wore an ugly tracksuit while doing it?
She rushed forward, and I brought my arms up together to protect my face.
As soon as I did, a burning sensation ran through my arms, over the old tattoos, expanding and coursing over my skin until it lashed out. Melinda struck the wall—damaging the plaster there—her body fully corporeal. Her eyes widened, as if she understood what had just happened no better than I did.
Well, at least we were in the same boat together.
When she pulled herself from the plaster—bits of it raining down around her—a plume of smoke passed me.
When it was between her and I, it took form into…Hunter?
A butt-assed naked Hunter, who I had to admit, looked even better from behind…
He let out a growl that knocked more pieces of plaster from the wall before he lifted his hand toward Melinda.
I opened my mouth to warn him, to tell him exactly how dangerous she could be, but still nothing escaped.
It turned out I didn’t need to worry. More of that smoke drifted from him and surrounded Melinda.
