Kiss & Hell (19 page)

“Could I have clothes before we do? This whole half-naked and exposed thing has become a lot. Not to mention, my feet are freezing,” he said on a grin, the serious, staid attitude replaced by a boyish smile.

“You wait here. I’ll go get lunch, and then we’ll get those clothes. Do. Not. Move.”

“Roger that.”

“No matter how tempting it might be to approach Miss Hawaiian Tropic,” she warned before heading back to the front of the deli.

Just as Delaney reached for the door, Tia skipped out on her heeled feet, clinging to a man’s arm.

A damned good-looking one. All sleek and wearing a designer suit she was sure was a big-name label.

Hoo boy. Poor Clyde.

As Delaney slid past the couple, she gave a quick peek over her shoulder, hoping Clyde wouldn’t see the pair when they sauntered out of O’Leary’s. The look on his face when he’d seen Tia had been a little too lovesick for Delaney. It had almost made her heart clench. She could only hope, when she had more time to examine it, that clench had everything to do with her sentimentality for love lost and nothing to do with the color green.

Twenty minutes later, lunch in hand, she breathed a sigh of relief. They’d managed to be apart for twenty whole minutes without him attaching his big self to her.

And that’s when she began to panic.

Christ, if he’d disappeared without warning, she’d kick his ass for all the trouble he’d been. Her stride was quick, her heart hammering while she threaded her way through the Sunday lunch crowd, pushing her way to the door.

Flying out the deli door, Delaney made a direct left and went straight for the corner she’d left him in.

Lo and behold.

No Clyde.

The spot she’d left him in was empty. Her heart began to pump irregularly; her legs became the equivalent of lead poles. If the motherfucker’d jacked her up, and she found his brainiac ass, she’d dump a whole case of Morton on his head.

Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it.

Shoving the bag from the deli under her arm, she stomped down the street toward her brother’s, where a crowd had begun to form in front of the 7-Eleven.

And whose head stood out in that crowd?

Delaney gritted her teeth and made a beeline for Clyde, who stood front and center, staring at something inside the store. Had Tia’d gone into the 7-Eleven with Mr. Fine, and Clyde was preparing to throw down in a fit of jealous rage?

She discarded that thought. Clyde just didn’t seem like he got het up over a whole lot—even if his girlfriend was prancing about with a good-looking guy. Delaney grabbed his upper arm and hissed, “What are you doing? Either I can’t get rid of you or you’re off attracting a crowd like you’re the new orca whale at Sea World. Did I tell you to stay put?”

“I forgot the 7-Eleven was here.”

It struck her at that moment—she had no idea where Clyde came from. She was so slacking when it came to her medium duties these days. “You’ve been here before?”

“Once or twice,” he replied, the fog he was in refusing to lift.

Delaney tweaked his arm. “Hello in there. Just a reminder. You’re a fully grown man in a pink bathrobe out in broad daylight. All you need is a shopping cart full of soda cans to complete your crazy portrait.”

He looked down at her, the glazed-over look in his eyes clearing. “They have Slurpees . . . 7-Eleven has Slurpees
.
I love Slurpees.”

“Do you think you might love the nuthouse?”

“What?”

“The nuthouse. Because if you keep wandering off in your bathrobe and bare feet, I can almost guarantee you, they’re going to drag you off to the place called crazy. Now come on. I’m late as it is.” She grabbed his hand, dragging him close to her side so he couldn’t escape while everyone they passed stared at them. “Move, people! Crazy guy in a bathrobe here,” she said to them by way of explanation. “Totally harmless unless he misses his meds. Then shit gets ugly. We only have about ten minutes before everything goes south. So excuse us, because when he realizes he has the color pink on, I make no promises he won’t react.
Violently
,” she added with a shiver of horror for the gawkers, giving them all a furtive glance.

The ten or twelve people who’d gathered around Clyde parted, allowing her to drag a reluctant, heavy-footed Clyde behind her. “Do you think on the way back to your place we could get a Slurpee? I haven’t had one in a while. They used to be my mainstay. I hope they have banana. I love banana Slurpees. Helped me get through many a long night while I studied. But I’d settle for a Full Throttle Frozen Blue Demon.”

“Throttle and demon. How ironic those words being in the same phrase,” she commented.

“So would you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“If we stopped on the way back so I can get a banana Slurpee
.
”

The mention of banana Slurpees made her stop almost cold. The memory of why something as ridiculous as a banana Slurpee was relevant slipped away like a cube of melting ice in her grasp. She shook off the faint recollection and plodded ahead. “I can’t think of anything worse for your innards than a Slurpee. The sugar alone is enough to leave you snockered.”

“I think I’m beyond worrying about my cholesterol levels and blood pressure and pretty much anything that has to do with my health. Again, I remind you, I’m dead. If I drank a hundred Slurpees consecutively, I wouldn’t stop ticking because I no longer tick. And don’t you ever live a little? Like have a cheeseburger or some greasy fries? Or do you always eat food fit only for gerbils and goats?”

“I try to maintain a nontoxic existence. I’ve gone green, I avoid preservatives, additives, dairy, and most bread, and I believe for every bottle of aspirin out there, there’s a form of meditation or a root extract that’d be just as helpful.”

His chuckle was deep. “Are you one of those people who hums while you’re in downward dog position in search of your happy place?”

She made a face at him, giving him a jab in his ribs. “It’s downward facing dog. Don’t make it sound so crazy. I’m not the fruitcake in this deal, bathrobe man. Yoga’s good for you. It not only increases your flexibility, but releases energy blocks, and with the lot of you bunch running around, always jumping into the middle of my life, I could use less in the way of energy blocks. Christ knows I need more energy to keep up with all these ghosts. You’d be surprised how calming yoga can be.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’d like a banana Slurpee on the way home.”

“We’ll see. Right now, I’m almost forty-five minutes late with lunch. Now step on the gas.” She let go of his arm and hurried up the steps of her brother’s apartment building, punching the buzzer for his apartment.

“Christ, D. Where you been?” Kellen barked out of the intercom. “I only called you five times. That’s what the cell phone is for—so I can call you. Then you answer. It’s called keeping in touch.”

She cast a gaze of admonishment in Clyde’s direction when Kellen hit the buzzer, opening the door. They climbed the stairs together in silence. It was just now occurring to her that she was going to have to explain Clyde to her brother. As they stood at Kellen’s door, she looked up at him. “Just let me do the talking. Don’t say a single word or I’ll superglue your lips together.”

Clyde leaned his bulk against the black enamel door frame, tightening the robe around his waist until it almost met. “So this is the Kellen whose name I heard in Hell. Your brother, right?”

“The one and only, and though he knows about the dead people thing, and he knows about you, too—he’s not much of a demon lover.”

“Really, Delaney, who is?”

“It’s not something you’d understand. Believe me when I tell you, if you thought I was a hard sell, with Kellen it’ll be like trying to sell rhythm to J-Lo. Now seeing as you’re in the habit of jamming feet in your mouth on a regular basis, and you have all the sensitivity of an earthworm—just be quiet. Okay?”

The lone bulb hanging above his head highlighted the sharp planes of his face while the wheels of his fact-loving mind visibly turned. “Interesting fact, earthworms are hermaphrodites. They can have relations with either male or female worms and still reproduce. I’m unsure whether they have emotions, though.”

Again with the intercourse. Delaney narrowed her eyes at him. “If only to be an earthworm. Just lay low and can the Discovery Channel regurgitations from out of nowhere.” She rapped on the door, slapping a smile on her face for Kellen, remembering to step in front of Clyde to prevent her overprotective brother from right-hooking her demon’s jaw.

Kellen threw open the door wide, stopping short when he saw Clyde standing behind her. Both men sized each other up. Kellen’s narrowed gaze honed in on Clyde.

In a pink bathrobe.

And that had to be anything but a testosterone boost for Clyde.

Yet Clyde never left her back, though she sensed his nostrils were probably flaring much the way Kellen’s were.

“So this is the demon, huh? Nice robe, man,” Kellen drawled, jamming his hands under his armpits.

“Kellen,” she warned, “just listen before you drag your knuckles on the floor. C’mon, Clyde,” she prompted, placing his hand in hers and taking him to the kitchen. Delaney threw the bag on Kellen’s small dinette table, handing Clyde his requested sandwich. “Here. Clog those arteries. You”—she pointed at Kellen—“sit down. We have some really serious stuff to discuss.”

But her intentions were all but forgotten when the cabinets above Kellen’s stove began to open and shut with crackling thwacks to the wood.

“Visitor?” Kellen asked—used to the interruptions Delaney’s mad, mad world presented.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the entity. Goose bumps came and went, skittering along her arms and down her spine on spiderlike feet.

Clyde rose to his full height. “Where?”

The instant he did was the moment the cabinets stopped clattering and the chill disappeared. “Sit down. Don’t move.”

As though the man himself had arrived and given him an order, Clyde actually listened to her, his ass hitting the padded chair hard in obedience.

She placed a finger over her lips, glancing at both men. “Hellll loooo?” she called to the room. “Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy. It’s really okay. Come out and talk to me,” she coaxed, hoping her light tone would extend her willingness to talk and inspire trust.

When the slither of a black shadow took form, Delaney cocked her head, gazing at the spot just above Clyde’s head.

Weee doggie, that had to have been major suckage.

“Delaney?” Kellen’s concerned voice broke her fixated stare at the image in front of her. “Who is it?”

“Well, could be a doctor—definitely someone in the medical profession because he has scrubs on.”

“And that’s unusual why?” Clyde questioned.

Delaney grimaced at Clyde. “First,
do not move
. He’s coming in loud and clear, and every time you so much as blink an eye, he fades. Second, don’t freak on me, okay?”

Clyde’s face darkened. “Why would I freak?”

“Because he’s resting his head on your shoulder.”

“That’s not so freaky.”

“Well, here’s the thing.”

Now his gaze grew wary. “What’s the thing?”

“It could be interpreted as such if it’s in his hands.”

ten

Clyde bolted upright, shoving away from the table and brushing at his shoulders, knocking over the soup she’d bought for Kellen with a wet splat of chicken and dumplings.

She flicked his arm with an angry finger. “I told you not to move! Jesus, Clyde—now he’s gone again.” Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the spirit.

Clyde whipped around, eyeing Delaney with a visible shudder. “Call me all kinds of sorry I scared the guy with the head in his
hands
away. Jesus.” He gave a vigorous rub to his broad shoulder again for obvious good measure.

“I told you not to freak. It’s not like it’s
real
real. He was just a ghost. Transparent, ya know? No substance—honest. Don’t be such a candy-ass.”

“Says you. It wasn’t
your
shoulder his head—not attached to his body, I might add—was resting on.”

“Don’t be such a total girl. You’re a demon, for crap’s sake. Some people would call
that
creepy.”

“But I’m a demon with my head. Not as creepy.”

“I hate to defend the demon, Delaney, but I have to side with the lackey here,” Kellen offered in a dry response, pulling napkins from a holder on the table and wiping his pants.

Clyde’s tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek, his fists balled by his sides. “I’d refrain from using words like
lackey
when referring to me. I’m no one’s lackey. That’s a polite request, but I’ll back it up if I have to. You’re Delaney’s brother and for the most part, Delaney’s been pretty decent to me if I don’t grudge and hold the salt and the prism thing against her. I’m trying very hard to respect her relationship to you,” Clyde said, directing his pointed gaze at Kellen. A tic in his jaw pumped furiously as the air between the two men filled with the pungent scent of a point being made.

Kellen scowled at Clyde, his shoulders slinging back when he rose from the table. “And you’ll do
what
if I don’t? Set me on fire?”