Clarissa tilted her head to the side and got lost in thought. “I suppose she could be in ghost form, but last time I saw her, she was more of a blob.”
“A blob?” I asked, squinting at her.
She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Are you hard of hearing?” she snapped. “A soul looks like a blob. A ghost looks like a ghost.”
“Umm… I just have ghosts, and ghosts look like ghosts,” I said, still feeling light-headed. I wanted to scream with joy, but I wasn’t sure I was correct. “No blobs. Can you tell me anything else about this blob?”
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked, raising her hand to destroy more of my house.
The Angel was deranged and unpredictable, which made her incredibly dangerous. Her behavior was batshit crazy. It was going to be hard to take her down if it couldn’t be determined what she would do next.
Shit.
“Not making fun of you at all,” I insisted, trying to keep my tone light and the hatred buried deep. “I’m actually fascinated by your knowledge. As the Death Counselor, I’ve never actually witnessed a soul blob, just ghosts.”
She nodded and bought it hook, line and sinker. “When a human perishes, the soul shoots out of the body—looks like a blob. It’s disgusting. If the soul has unfinished business, it becomes a ghost.”
“I see,” I said. “So, you saw this soul right after it died and then lost it?”
“Something like that,” she said, staying vague. “Have you seen it?”
“No. If it had unfinished business, it might have come to me as a ghost. I can ask around,” I told her. “How long ago did this human die?”
I held my breath and waited.
Her smile was positively nightmare-inducing. “Playing me is a very bad plan, Daisy the Death Counselor. You know exactly who I’m looking for, and I think you’re hiding her. It makes sense, and I’m a very logical Angel. Families tend to stick together.”
The bitch did not have my mother’s soul. I was sure of it now. Where it was, I had no clue. But if Clarissa didn’t have it, her punishment wouldn’t affect my mother.
She’d lied to Michael. She’d killed my mother and made sure my father disowned me. She’d also killed my husband to try to destroy me. She was the worst kind of abomination—and I loathed her with every fiber in my being.
How much should I tell her?
A whole bunch. It was time to mess with her and make her sloppy.
“Does the soul happen to have died thirty-five years ago?” I asked. “Is her name Alana?”
Clarissa’s face reddened and her eyes literally sparked with menace and hatred. “Give her to me,” she snarled.
“I don’t have her,” I said calmly. “However, since we’re coming clean here, I know who my father is. Michael touched me when I went into Steve’s mind and everyone saw what you did when he sent it to the other Immortals. Your ass is grass. Your guilt has been recorded and you are fucked.”
“You lie!” she shouted, diving forward.
Barely dodging the bolt of lightning she threw at me, I reared back and delivered a left hook to her face that sent her flying across the room. Her crazed grunt of fury didn’t bode well for me living into the next hour, but if I was going down, I was going down fighting.
“My nose,” she hissed as blood ran down her lips and onto her dress. “You broke it.”
“Looks better that way,” I told her with an insanely inappropriate laugh. Slashing my hand through the air, I disintegrated the bubble, pushed my dogs out of the front door and shut it behind them.
Donna howled like the world was ending, but they were not going to die tonight. Only problem with what I had done was that Gram and Jimmy Joe Johnson had shown back up, and Gram was free to make her presence known in a big way. She wasted no time.
“Son of a bitch,” Gram screeched as she whipped around Clarissa like a crazed tornado. “You will not come into my girl’s house and mess with her.”
“Watch me,” Clarissa growled.
With a flick of her hand, a vicious, gold-flecked wind picked me up and slammed me against the wall with such force, I saw stars. With a silent thank you to John Travolta for using the wind on me earlier, I broke the spell, shook it off and tackled Clarissa to the ground.
“Bust her ass,” Gram yelled. “Hit that bitch!”
I’d never heard Gram talk like that in my life. The woman was riled up, but I was a good granddaughter who obeyed my elders.
“On it,” I yelled, kneeing Clarissa in the stomach, which earned me a slap across my face that would probably leave a permanent mark.
“I’ll kill everyone who means anything to you,” she threatened, trying to throw me off of her. Her failure to toss my ass across the room shocked me almost as much as it shocked her.
Laying into her already broken nose, I nailed her again. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You have enough problems without more death on your hands.”
“You should have never been born,” she screeched, raking her nails down my cheek. The Angel was insane and talking bullshit. “He was mine. Michael loved me until that whore came along. Funny thing, it was a whore who helped the whore get away. Ahh, the irony.”
All of her words made me sick and I wanted her to stop talking. Using my elbow, I paid her back for disrespecting my mother. The sound it made connecting to her crushed nose sickened me, but no one calls my mother a whore.
“No, actually he didn’t. Ever. Michael never loved you. He told me.” My torn cheek felt like it was on fire and blood seeped into my mouth.
Gram and Jimmy Joe hovered around me and tried to create a distracting wind. It was working. Clarissa’s hair was in her eyes. Only problem was, mine was too.
“You will pay,” she choked out through the blood spurting from her nose.
“I already have,” I told her. “It’s your turn now.”
“Hog-tie her,” Gram shouted. “Tie her up like a stuck pig!”
I had no clue if tying her up would work. It was a long shot, but it was something. Rolling off of Clarissa and running to the far side of the room, I tore the floor-to-ceiling curtains from their rods.
The crack of lightning was horrible. Gram’s scream was even worse.
The plan failed. Not because the curtains wouldn’t hold her. I never got that far.
The plan failed because Clarissa disappeared.
However, she’d left me a parting gift.
Jimmy Joe Johnson was in pieces amidst the shattered glass on the floor. He was almost invisible and fading fast.
“No,” I cried out, desperately trying to gather up his parts. “No, no, no. Gram what happened?”
Gram’s sobs racked her body and she held the head of her beau in her shaking hands. “Jimmy Joe Johnson saved me,” she choked out through her tears.
“I don’t understand,” I said, trying to find his midsection and having no luck.
“She went for me and my man jumped in front and took the hit. Jimmy Joe Johnson sacrificed himself for me—was willin’ to die for me.”
I didn’t have the heart to remind her that both of them were dead already. What Jimmy Joe had done was truly beautiful and may have cost him dearly. I wasn’t sure if I could glue him back together since I couldn’t find all of his parts.
“Daisy girl,” Gram whispered.
“Yes?” I answered, glancing over at her from my spot on the glass-covered floor.
“I need you to help my Jimmy Joe,” she said, gently kissing the forehead of his detached head. “We owe that to him.”
“I will, Gram,” I promised, closing my eyes for a quick second. “I will.”
I hoped to Hell and back I wasn’t lying.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Goddammit,” Gideon roared as he materialized in the middle of the living room and took in the carnage with wild eyes and a vicious expression. “Where is she?”
“Gone,” I said, holding back tears with effort.
My adrenaline had spiked and now
I was coming down hard. However, I still had work to do. Most of Jimmy Joe was unrecognizable. The promise I’d just made to Gram was looking impossible.
Nothing is impossible. You just have to believe.
Gideon’s eyes blazed red and his dark side took over. Shimmering ebony wings erupted from his back and a golden glow surrounded him. The span of his wings had to be six feet and the glowing light made them sparkle. He was beyond furious. As his ire mounted, he began to growl and speak in the language I’d heard him speak in Hell.
“She harmed you,” he hissed, carefully picking me up off the floor and examining me.
“She didn’t look so good when she left, either,” I said, trying to make light of one of the scariest episodes in my life thus far.
“I will destroy her,” he snarled, gently touching my torn cheek.
The Grim Reaper was a sight to behold. Gideon was still Gideon, but he was also a beautiful, deadly winged beast. His gentleness with me was in direct juxtaposition to the fury simmering below the surface.
“Kind of hurts,” I said, trying to remove his hand from my bloody face.
“Stay still,” he whispered, and continued to cup my cheek.
The sensation of tiny, searing-hot needles piercing my skin in quick succession made me want to scream. However, the look of concern and love in Gideon’s blazing red eyes made me grit my teeth and bear it.
“Stay with me, Daisy,” he said. “I’m trying to do this quickly.”
“Tattoo my face?” I asked with a grimace, trying to make a joke.
It fell a little flat. It was difficult to be funny when my face was on fire.
“No,” he said, with a tight smile. “I’m healing you. The pain will be gone soon.”
“How soon?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Done,” he said, removing his hand and pulling me against him with care.
“Thank you,” I said into his chest.
My face still throbbed, but the burning sensation was gone. I had no clue if I’d be scarred for life physically, but I was pretty sure there would be some mental baggage left over.
“Where is Heather?” Gideon asked in a terse voice, holding his anger in check with effort.
“She wasn’t here,” I admitted. “Her rental car wouldn’t start so she transported home. She left a note.”
Gideon expelled a frustrated sigh and I felt his body tighten. “And you didn’t call me,” he stated flatly.
“I didn’t call you,” I confirmed. “That fact is at the top of the list of the stupidest things I’ve done in my life.”
“Correct,” Gideon said, holding me tighter. “You will never do anything like that again. Am I clear?”
Although, I was tempted to fire back that I was the boss of me, I didn’t. He was correct—a little alpha dude with the delivery, but correct. The man loved me and I loved him. If the tables were turned, I’d want to kick his ass.
“I will never do that again,” I promised.
“Ever?” he pushed.
“Never ever,” I assured him.
Gideon’s body relaxed somewhat, but his hold did not. “You could have died.”
I simply nodded.
“That’s unacceptable,” he said, sounding pained.
“I didn’t,” I pointed out. “I’m here. Where’s Steve?”
“I sent him to get the other Immortals in case Clarissa was still on the premises,” Gideon replied.
Gram floated over with Jimmy Joe’s head cradled in her arms. “My Daisy girl kicked that nasty bitch’s ass. The nose on that heifer won’t ever be the same.”
“You broke the Angel of Mercy’s nose?” Gideon asked with a tiny trace of amusement in his voice.
“Busted it good,” Gram confirmed. “Nice wings, Gideon—real shiny. Can you fly with those suckers?”
Gideon chuckled. His wings retracted and rested on his back. “Thank you, Gram. And yes, I can fly with these suckers.”
“Love to go on a ride sometime,” she said, and then looked down at her beau’s head in her hands. “Jimmy Joe would have loved it too. Might’ve cried a little cause he’s afraid of heights and all, but I just know he would have loved it.”
“I have to fix him,” I said, moving away from Gideon’s warm embrace and getting back down on my hands and knees.
The Grim Reaper joined me. “What are we searching for?”
“Jimmy Joe Johnson,” I said, glancing around in despair. “He’s all over the place. I have to find all of him and put him back together. He saved Gram’s life.”
“But she’s dead,” Gideon whispered so Gram wouldn’t overhear.
“I know that,” I whispered back. “But Clarissa tried to destroy her and Jimmy Joe dove in front of her and took the hit. Blew him to smithereens. So, while my statement isn’t technically correct, it’s literally correct in a broad sense of the definition.”
Gideon stopped searching and stared at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Clarissa did this to Jimmy Joe?” he asked, his brow wrinkled in thought.
I nodded and went back to work. Help would have been nice, but I was fine without it. The ghosts were my responsibility. Jimmy Joe was my hero because of what he did and I wasn’t about to leave any of him on the floor.
“Why was Jimmy Joe still here?” Gideon asked. “Do you know what his unfinished business was?”
I shook my head. If I spoke, I would cry. I had no clue why Jimmy Joe Johnson was still here. My norm was to let the dead come to me when they were ready to move on. Pushing hadn’t felt right, and I didn’t want anyone to feel unwelcome or like I wanted them to leave.
God, had my manners left my squatters in a limbo of sorts? Should I have a freaking schedule? Honestly, I didn’t care how long they stayed. My life was fuller with all my dead friends.
“I can hear you,” Gideon said, smiling.
Why was he smiling at me? “I’m getting ready to cry,” I told him, pushing some of the glass away and sitting down. “I really don’t think my thoughts are funny right now.”
“They’re loving and sweet,” he said.
“Loving and sweet certainly didn’t help Jimmy Joe.”
“Do you know that as fact?” he questioned, waving Gram over.
“The more I know, the less I know,” I muttered, closing my eyes and trying to make everything disappear.
“Daisy girl,” Gram said. “You’ve got nothin’ to feel bad about. You’ve been busier than a moth in a wool mitten. You’re handlin’ the dead much better than your mama or I ever did. Jimmy Joe, bless his heart, has had a wonderful stay.”
I opened one eye and looked at her. “I’m doing a good job?”
“Yep. I’m right proud of you. I want you to quit goin’ round your ass to get to your elbow.”
Squinting at her, I let out a pained laugh. “Is that even possible?”
“No! And that’s my point, child,” she said, hugging Jimmy Joe’s head to her. “We’re all just doing the best we can. That’s all we can do.”
“Gram,” Gideon cut in. “Do you know what Jimmy Joe’s unfinished business was?”
“Yep.”
We waited.
And waited.
“Are we supposed to guess?” I asked with the beginnings of a real smile.
If Gram knew, I could hopefully solve it and he could rest in peace and move into the light.
“My poor Jimmy Joe Johnson just felt awful that he died with credit card debt,” she said, shaking her head sadly.
I was kind of shocked that someone had stayed due to credit card debt, but Jimmy Joe was an odd one. However, this was an easy solve unless he owed hundreds of thousands. I had Steve’s life insurance money in the bank. Which meant I could easily give Jimmy Joe peace.
“How much?” I asked Gram.
“I’ll pay it,” Gideon offered.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll pay it.”
“I’d really like to pay it,” Gideon insisted.
&nbs
p; “Umm… nope. Jimmy Joe was my guest. I can pay it,” I said, giving Gideon a look.
Gideon sighed and, if I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—he rolled his eyes.
“Daisy, I have a lot of money,” he informed me.
“Irrelevant,” I told him, so tempted to ask how much, but I didn’t want to know.
“Y’all need to hush,” Gram hissed. “If anyone is gonna pay it, it’s me.”
“You’re dead,” I pointed out.
Gram looked surprised for a second, and then laughed. “Yep, but I had a life insurance policy that’s comin’ your way, Daisy girl,” she said. “So technically I could pay off my man’s debt. But I’m not gonna do that.”
“Mmkay,” I said. “Not following that logic, Gram.”
“Jimmy Joe told me the check was in his briefcase at his house, in the crawlspace—addressed, stamped and ready to go,” she explained. “He didn’t want to tell you yet because we were havin’ so much fun courtin’.”
I shook my head and grinned. “So, this will consist of a breaking and entering into a crawlspace?”
I’d done it before for my dear dead buddy Sam. I could do it again. I just hoped the house was empty this time.
“Kind of,” Gram said with a wink. “You won’t have to break at all, just enter.”
Gram was getting as cryptic as the Immortals.
“There’s kind of a lot going on right now,” I reminded her. “A few details might be helpful.”
Gram laughed, floated down to the floor and sat herself next to me. She held Jimmy Joe’s head in her lap and patted it lovingly. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Do I have a choice?” I shot back.
“Nope.”
“Ask away,” I replied as Gideon chuckled, grabbed a ripped-up pillow and got more comfortable.
“Who’d you and Steve buy this house from?” she asked.
I looked down at my hands for a moment and sighed. Was Gram losing it? “The bank,” I said, humoring her. If she got too off track, I’d pull her back. “The owner had passed away and the bank sold the house for the out-of-state relatives.”
“Correct! And do you recall who actually owned the house?”
A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis : A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel : Good To The Last Death Book Three Page 19
