hand shot straight through to the other side of her head. Why she couldn’t bring her skills from Plane Drab with her here was just another fun ghost factoid. “Here’s where you’d better pony up, Kellen, and make it convincing because we both know our Tenacious D. Tell her I like being a ghost. In fact, I’m so in love with the idea of skating through walls and being invisible, my world is all sunshiny colors and kick-ass rose-tinted glasses. So it doesn’t matter who took what from me. I’m golden. Now hurry. Before she snowballs and we’re in the middle of her glacial path.”
Kellen tightened his grip on Delaney’s hand, his gaze sympathetic and warm. “Marcella said to tell you that she likes being a ghost much better than she ever liked being a demon. It has its sacrifices, but Lucifer isn’t dogging her anymore, and for the first time in a long time, she feels safe. She said she misses you, and she loves you and she wants you to stop worrying.”
Delaney rolled her hazel eyes with a grating snort before crossing her arms over her woolen sweater. “Tell her I said she’s full of so much bullshit. Wait. Never mind. I’ll tell her.” Delaney looked to Kellen. “Point me in the general direction.”
Kellen stabbed a finger in front of him, pointing toward the ceiling while fighting to keep his face emotionless but leaking a smug look of satisfaction for the shit Delaney was winding up to give her.
Delaney looked upward, unaware she’d actually captured Marcella’s green gaze. “You’re full of horse puckey, Marcella Acosta. Don’t you try to snow me. I know you. You’ve been my best friend for a long time and there’s no one who lives louder than you. To be shipped off to some plane that’s dreary and desolate, sans shopping and foot massages, is its own special hell for someone of your ilk. So knock off the brave front and let’s figure out how you can become a demon again because Pier 1’s going to have a sale that’ll blow your mind, and you’ll miss it with all this self-sacrifice bullshit. Not to mention the employees who’ll have to apply for food stamps because their commissions are in the crapper.”
Marcella fought a smile. Delaney was as loyal and as dedicated as ever. Though no way was she giving in. Delaney had better things to do than to try to find a way out of this for her. There were babies to make with her geeky/hot husband. No more mixing it up with the paranormal.
She cocked her head in Kellen’s direction. “Tell her this is one ghost who doesn’t need her to ‘fix’ anything. I don’t need help. There’s nothing she can do anyway. I already know crossing over isn’t an option, but we’ve always known that. That’s what her specialty was, and it isn’t even hers anymore. It’s yours. And you suck at it, if what I heard is right. So tell her I said to go make babies—loads of ’em, so I’ll always have an influx of fresh meat, not jaded by adulthood, to haunt.”
Kellen laughed now, too, but immediately straightened when Delaney asked, “What does she have to say for herself?”
“She said stay out of it and go make babies. Loads of them. She doesn’t want you to fix anything for her.”
Delaney’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m not going to fix it. You are, little brother. I mean, I’ll help, but ultimately you’re now the one with the connections.”
“No!” Marcella yelped in Kellen’s direction, reaching out and gripping his arm. “Kellen, you’ve got to keep her from stepping in any more shit than she’s already been in. I don’t want Lucifer chasing after her again and neither do you. Especially now that she doesn’t have the kind of help she once had from the other side. She has Clyde to consider, too. And the children they may have—I’d rather rot in the pit than let Satan touch them. Just tell her to let it be, for the love of Christ. Please. Maybe not as much for her sake as for mine now. I’m tired. I’ve been around a long,
Kellen tightened his grip on Delaney’s hand, his gaze sympathetic and warm. “Marcella said to tell you that she likes being a ghost much better than she ever liked being a demon. It has its sacrifices, but Lucifer isn’t dogging her anymore, and for the first time in a long time, she feels safe. She said she misses you, and she loves you and she wants you to stop worrying.”
Delaney rolled her hazel eyes with a grating snort before crossing her arms over her woolen sweater. “Tell her I said she’s full of so much bullshit. Wait. Never mind. I’ll tell her.” Delaney looked to Kellen. “Point me in the general direction.”
Kellen stabbed a finger in front of him, pointing toward the ceiling while fighting to keep his face emotionless but leaking a smug look of satisfaction for the shit Delaney was winding up to give her.
Delaney looked upward, unaware she’d actually captured Marcella’s green gaze. “You’re full of horse puckey, Marcella Acosta. Don’t you try to snow me. I know you. You’ve been my best friend for a long time and there’s no one who lives louder than you. To be shipped off to some plane that’s dreary and desolate, sans shopping and foot massages, is its own special hell for someone of your ilk. So knock off the brave front and let’s figure out how you can become a demon again because Pier 1’s going to have a sale that’ll blow your mind, and you’ll miss it with all this self-sacrifice bullshit. Not to mention the employees who’ll have to apply for food stamps because their commissions are in the crapper.”
Marcella fought a smile. Delaney was as loyal and as dedicated as ever. Though no way was she giving in. Delaney had better things to do than to try to find a way out of this for her. There were babies to make with her geeky/hot husband. No more mixing it up with the paranormal.
She cocked her head in Kellen’s direction. “Tell her this is one ghost who doesn’t need her to ‘fix’ anything. I don’t need help. There’s nothing she can do anyway. I already know crossing over isn’t an option, but we’ve always known that. That’s what her specialty was, and it isn’t even hers anymore. It’s yours. And you suck at it, if what I heard is right. So tell her I said to go make babies—loads of ’em, so I’ll always have an influx of fresh meat, not jaded by adulthood, to haunt.”
Kellen laughed now, too, but immediately straightened when Delaney asked, “What does she have to say for herself?”
“She said stay out of it and go make babies. Loads of them. She doesn’t want you to fix anything for her.”
Delaney’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m not going to fix it. You are, little brother. I mean, I’ll help, but ultimately you’re now the one with the connections.”
“No!” Marcella yelped in Kellen’s direction, reaching out and gripping his arm. “Kellen, you’ve got to keep her from stepping in any more shit than she’s already been in. I don’t want Lucifer chasing after her again and neither do you. Especially now that she doesn’t have the kind of help she once had from the other side. She has Clyde to consider, too. And the children they may have—I’d rather rot in the pit than let Satan touch them. Just tell her to let it be, for the love of Christ. Please. Maybe not as much for her sake as for mine now. I’m tired. I’ve been around a long,
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