Divine and Dateless (32 page)

I stood at attention, quite pleased with myself. When I heard a loud creak behind me, I just about Moo Shoo-puked. I turned to see the elevator door had slid open.

Oh, shit. This isn't an exercise. This is real! I haven't even finished my training. I don't even know how to be a ghost.

I’d tried asking Sarge about my new job several times during training, and he always had the same dickhead answer. “That information is on a need-to-know basis.”

What was I supposed to do? Hover and moan? Scream and pull my eyes out of their sockets? That sounded a bit much, not to mention painful. And then there was that other fear, my biggest fear… demons. Would I really be able to get away from them? Or would I be too paralyzed with fright to move, gawking at them and pissing my pants while they burned out my eye sockets?

I composed myself long enough to stand at attention when Sarge came barreling into the room.

"Nice work, recruit," he said with a smile, and then his eyes widened when he saw the open door.

Great, now Sarge was worried. That wasn't exactly reassuring.

He picked up the receiver from the retro phone hanging on the wall by the elevator and then mumbled into it with a hand cupped around his mouth.

Boner came racing into the room, stopping cold in his tracks and mouthing, "Oh, shit!" before taking a spot by my side.

Crow and Basil were next, and both had similar looks of worry. Shouldn't they have been used to ghosting emergencies by now? Wasn't that what they had all been trained to do?

"Listen up." Sarge paced in front of us with long strides. "Just got off the phone with Shadow. We've got a situation in a section 13 I-G cemetery. Punks desecrating a grave."

"No rituals?" Boner asked through a shaky voice, as if his afterlife hung in the balance. “Or demons?” he added with a barely audible squeak.

Sarge shook his head. "No rituals and no demons. Just some kids tagging tombstones."

We all collectively sighed as Sarge pulled a map off the bookcase. He unrolled it on the pool table as we gathered around him.

"They've been spotted at the west end of the cemetery." He pointed to a small patch of square markings I assumed to be gravesites. "They've already sprayed five tombstones, and they're working their way down the row. We need to stop these shits and teach them a lesson they'll never forget."

Everyone hooted and hollered. Everyone except me. I still had no freaking clue what I was supposed to do.

Sarge opened the doors to a dusty oak armoire that could have easily fit six bodies and began tossing clothes at us. He threw me a pale, almost sheer, ankle-length nightgown with thin shoulder straps.

I looked down at the flimsy fabric and back at him. "But I haven’t had any training. I’ve just been exercising my ass off."

"That’s part of it, MacLeod. This is a low-level haunting, a code yellow. You’ll do fine. Just stay by me."

I went behind a screen with Basil and slipped into the nightgown along with a dainty pair of slippers. I wondered why she got to wear a neck high, long-sleeved robe, and I had something that was practically see-through. After I came out and caught Sarge's stealthy smile, I knew exactly why.

The guys were dressed in head-to-toe black, except for Boner, who was butt-ass naked. Though I knew modesty required I avert my gaze, I couldn't help but gawk at that schlong! It was the longest freaking dick I'd ever seen, hanging down his thigh like a limp python.

Holy shit!

Now I knew where he’d gotten his nickname. It took a lot of will power to peel my gaze away from his third leg. When we momentarily looked into each other's eyes, Boner's face flushed from his wavy reddish-blond roots all the way to his scruffy beard. I couldn't help but like the guy for his modesty. If any of the jerks I'd dated had had a hose that big, they'd be parading it around everywhere, using it to lasso horses and put out fires.

Sarge was at my side before I reached the elevator, wordlessly leading me inside with a gentle hand on my back. My nightie was so thin, I could feel the heat of his skin on mine. I tried to pretend his touch didn't set my flesh on fire. I tried really hard.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears when the elevator door shut on us.

"Hey, don't freak out when we get to level one." Boner nudged me in the ribs. "You're about to find out why they call me Boner," he said with a wink.

"Okay, but I'm pretty sure I've already figured it out." I smirked as I tried not to look down at the penis pendulum swinging between his legs. I swore I heard it swooshing as it slapped his thighs.

"Just wait," he said. "And you'll see why they call him Crow." Boner nodded toward the old man who was hunched over his cane.

"Who knows?" Sarge winked as he pressed my back with a firmer hand. "Maybe I'll find you a nickname after I discover
your
secret talents."

Somehow, I got the feeling Sarge was referring to my talents in the sack and not on a ghosting mission. I flashed him a sideways look, only to see he was looking back at me. Well, at my tits. My nipples were so taut, I thought they might tear holes through the fabric. Not my fault. It was cold in the elevator. Damn cold. No wonder Sarge had wanted me to wear that nightgown.

Sarge had sent Boner, Basil, and Crow ahead as soon as the intercom dinged level one. They’d disappeared into the inky blackness of the tomb where our elevator had landed, and I hadn’t seen them since. I was still trying to figure out what an elevator was doing inside a burial vault. I was willing to bet the residents of level one didn’t even know it existed.

We slowly made our way toward the exit where the others had disappeared. Sarge’s leg scraped across the concrete floor of the tomb, making a sound like one long nail grating across a chalkboard. Had I still been alive and seen his apparition heading my way, I would have had nightmares for the rest of my life. He’d draped himself in a black, hooded cape, shrouding his entire body in darkness, with the exception of his gleaming silver leg. He looked like a phantom pirate.

We escaped through a crack in the heavy concrete door, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The night was muggy, and mildly cool, but the air was invigorating, a mixture of fresh rain and wet pine. The dreary springtime Pacific Northwest evenings had always bothered me until now. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed them.

As we made our way down an aisle of ivy-covered vaults and weeping statues, something about this cemetery was oddly familiar. Sure, they pretty much all looked alike at night, but I got this strange sense of déjà vu.

The moon was nearly full, occasionally poking through the cloudy patches dotting the sky. The place was eerily quiet, even for a graveyard. A cool wind blew through my hair. Instinctively, I scooted closer to Sarge, not even minding his gentle hand on my shoulder.

But then I'd hear the scrape of his leg grating across a marble square, reminding me we were the creepiest things in the graveyard.

The plan was to ambush the punks with ghouls on all sides. I still wasn't sure how ghoulish I could make myself. Hopefully, I didn't fail at this job like I had at all my others.

"Stop."

I gasped when Sarge pulled me to him. His hood had fallen back, revealing dark, searching eyes that threatened to draw me into a trance. I shuddered when he ran his fingers through my hair, pulling out the little clips that held my wiry strands in place.

"Don't." I tried to swat him away. "It's a frizzy mess."

"I know." He flashed a long, languid smile while letting my hair fall down around my shoulders. "It's perfect for haunting."

Tingling ripples of pleasure shot through me as his fingertips lightly grazed the side of my neck.

He stepped back and handed me a bouquet of flowers he'd grabbed off a grave. "Now you look like a jilted bride."

I brought the flowers to my nose, my eyelids fluttering shut as I inhaled their sweet scent. Everything on level one smelled so much more alive.

"Damn, you're beautiful."

My eyes shot open, my heart seizing at the molten look of desire in his eyes. This was so not good. "I bet you say that to all the ghouls," I said teasingly, hoping if I interjected a little levity into the situation, he'd back down.

"No." He shook his head, chuckling. "Just you."

I felt the color drain from my face as I gaped at him. He couldn't be serious. After all he’d put me through this week, he expected me to buy his load of horseshit?

"Remember the day you projected to your mom?" he asked.

"Yeah." My muscles tensed as I braced myself for another flirtatious assault.

"When you see the punks, try to remember that feeling, okay? The others will go in first. You can follow their lead."

I swallowed a knot of panic as my limbs iced over. My first ghosting and I had no idea what to do. "What if I'm not good at this?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder, the look in his eyes so intense, it made me shudder. "You'll be perfect, MacLeod. I know you will."

Sarge and I watched the vandals from behind a large tombstone. I had no idea why I was terrified of getting caught. Sarge assured me they couldn't see us unless I projected my aura as I'd done with my mom.

The moon's light illuminated the area, a small patch of gravesites that had an oddly familiar look. The two smaller boys were laughing as they spray-painted indiscernible words over the marble slabs in bright orange. The biggest one sat on top of a thick tombstone, a shovel draped across his lap while he crushed an empty can in his hand.

They had been easy to find, not just because they were noisy enough to wake the dead, but they’d left a trail of candy bar wrappers and beer cans. From the looks of them, they were college boys, wearing designer jeans, T-shirts, and black skull caps. I suspected the little BMW parked behind a copse of nearby trees was theirs, which meant they were probably fraternity pledges. I remembered Travis having been forced to do some weird shit for his fraternity, too. What freaking idiots.

"Hey, look! A skeleton!" The smallest punk's voice bounced around octaves faster than an opera singer with laryngitis, suggesting puberty had come a few years too late.

I peered from behind my hiding spot to see that a skeleton was indeed partially buried in the ground, as if someone had recently dumped it on a gravesite and tossed a few buckets of dirt on top. That meant this cemetery had been desecrated already. That thought made my chest tighten with anger.

"Cool!" The big one jumped down from his perch and handed him the shovel. "Dig it up," he slurred in a tone that suggested he was already a six-pack past sober.

"I'm not digging it up." Puberty Boy squealed, jerking back so fast, his skull cap fell off, revealing a baby face and cropped blond hair. "You do it!" The shovel made a loud clank as he threw it to the ground.

Big Dude slapped Puberty Boy across the side of the head. "Quiet, asshole!"

The other boy raised a shaky hand and pointed at the ground. "Hey! Look!"

Big Dude spun around, snarling. "What?"

The color drained from the boy's cheeks as he took several steps back, grunting as he stumbled over the shovel. "The fingers moved."

Big Dude punched him in the shoulder. "Shut the fuck up!"

"Do you mind?" I froze at the sound of Boner's lazy, stoner dude drawl. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

I gasped as chunks of dirt burst from the ground and the skeleton pulled himself out of its shallow grave.

Big Dude and Puberty Boy blanched and fell to their knees, their mouths hanging open while the third boy ran screaming. The skeleton's bones rattled as it walked up to Big Dude, peering down at him through empty eye sockets.

Both boys cried out and huddled together, and then Puberty Boy mumbled an apology in a frantic slur of words.

I covered my head and ducked as something swooshed over me. A huge winged creature landed on a tombstone, ruffling its black feathers before peering down at the kid through familiar wizened eyes. "Didn't your mama teach you to respect the dead?" Crow squawked.

A bright orb flashed above the kids’ heads. "I weep for the souls of the tombs you have defiled." Basil's glowing body floated down from the tree limbs, hovering just above a gravesite that had been tagged with bright orange lettering.