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“Fresh bodies from a grave, usually,” I replied. “Not sure about this one, though. Seems to be in a stupor.” I omitted the part about not traveling solo; I didn’t want to worry them.
“Didn’t you say this is no longer an active cemetery?” Ray asked.
“Correct.” I’d made sure when I bought the house adjacent to it.
The ghoul wiped a dribble of saliva from its cheek.
“Aw. Reminds me of Steven when he was a toddler,” Nana Pratt said. “I almost feel sorry for the poor creature.”
“Me, too,” I said quietly.
The ghoul stumbled forward, closing the gap between us. I continued to grip the dagger just in case I needed it for self-defense, but I had no intention of using it. This wasn’t a fair fight.
Before the ghoul reached the porch step, it dropped to the walkway in a heap. I stared at the large lump of weirdness.
Nana Pratt peered over the edge of the porch. “Is it dead?”
“Probably sleeping it off,” Ray offered.
I wasn’t sure. I ventured forward for a closer look.
“Are you sure about that, Lorelei?” Nana Pratt’s voice rose an octave. “Why not call one of your friends?”
“She can handle this fella,” Ray said.
I crouched in front of the ghoul and listened for sounds of life. A soft grunt was all I needed.
“Alive,” I called over my shoulder.
“I can’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed,” Nana Pratt said.
“It can’t hurt you, Ingrid,” Ray reminded her.
“I know, but it can hurt Lorelei.”
I was touched by her concern.
“You don’t need to baby her. She’s a grown goddess,” Ray said.
I turned to look at them. “I appreciate the level of care I’m hearing, but can we save the chitchat for later? I’m trying to focus.”
The ghosts proceeded to spend the next sixty seconds shushing each other while I examined the ghoul.
“Now might be a good time to use that dagger you’re holding,” a voice said.
I glanced up to see Kane Sullivan gliding toward the walkway. He must’ve flown over the gate in his blackbird form. Between the dark blond hair that circled his head in soft waves like an angelic halo and whisky-colored eyes that promised endless nights of devilish passion, the demon was a walking contradiction. Notably, my arm didn’t catch on fire when the ward activated. Instead, a warm sensation flooded my body. Odd.
“There’s something wrong with it,” I told him.
“All the better to put the creature out of its misery.” Kane leaned down to inspect the heap. “It’s a ghoul, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He shot me a quizzical look. “Since when are you in the business of rescuing ghouls? They’re disgusting scavengers.”
I looked at him. “And you’re a demon prince of hell. Should I put you out of your misery, too?”
He resumed an upright position. “Point taken.”
