Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2) (8 page)

“Excuse me?”

I turned to see the spirit of a
middle-aged woman shouldering her way to the front of the line. “Yes?”

“Do you work here?” she asked.

A ray of light broke through the
cloud and glinted off the numerous sequins decorating her jade green running
suit, blinding me. It seemed even in death women of a certain age gravitated to
this apparel. My mom had three such warm-up suits—or cruise-wear, as I called
them. Every time she wore one, her thighs made a
shush—shush—shush
sound
that could be heard a mile away. One time I told her she needed to slow her
power walk down or she’d burst into flames from the friction. She didn’t think
it was funny.

I shielded my eyes with my hand and
glanced at Mara, silently asking her what I should say to the spirit. She
shrugged, which was no help at all, so I pasted on a smile. “Yes.”

“Finally.” The woman reached behind
her and pulled a short, round man to her side. “My husband and I have been
waiting forever. Wasn’t this cruise supposed to leave days ago?”

“Cruise?”

Her frosty pink lips puckered and
she waved a translucent brochure at me. “Yes, we bought first-class tickets for
the Eternal Sunshine cruise.”

“Me, too.” The spirit of a man, who
looked like he was straight out of Hell’s Angels, stepped forward, towering
over me. “I don’t like waiting.”

I backed up a few feet, but the
crowd flowed forward, all talking at once. “My colleague and I are here to
assess the situation.” I held up my hands, trying to quiet the spirits. “If
you’ll give me your attention for a minute, I’ll explain.”

The mob fell silent. Not a peep,
cough, or shuffle emanated from the multitude. Even the water seemed to stop
lapping at the shore.

I swallowed hard and flashed the
best cruise director smile I could muster. “I want to thank you for your
patience during this inconvenient time.” I lowered my hands. “But good news,
the ferry will start running later tonight.”

The crowd exploded with cheers.

Mara held up her hands, again
silencing the spirits. “First we need to do a routine check on the ferry to
make sure everything is operational. Once we report back to our superiors, they
should give us the green light to start transporting.”

Again, the spirits burst into
celebratory whoops. Not wanting to stay and answer a million
questions—literally—we climbed onto the wooden dock and briskly walked along
the ferry, putting distance between us and the throng of spirits. In the middle
of the boat hung a ladder. For some reason I’d expected stairs or a
gangway—something less piraty.

After scaling the narrow rungs, I
hoisted my leg over the ledge and hefted the rest of my body onto the deck.
Mara followed, clearing the side of the ferry with little effort. At its most
basic, the boat appeared to be a mystical, ancient vessel. Carved railings
depicted scenes of death, resurrection, and tormented souls. Square frosted
panes of glass created the dome over the hull. When light broke through the
clouds each piece glimmered like mother of pearl.

“It’s beautiful.” I bent and
examined a scene that looked like it was straight out of
Dante’s Inferno
.
“Kind of.”

“Yeah, I hear death-retro is back
in style. Let’s check out the captain’s box.”

“Good idea.” On our trek to the
front of the ferry, I ran my hand along the cord hanging from the hull. “The
party lights are a nice touch.”

“I wonder what other personal
touches Charon added.”

We climbed the stairs to the helm. Level
with the angel and demon curling up from the tip of the pontoon, the captain’s
box sat directly between them at the front of the ferry. The space was bigger
than I’d expected. Though the steering wheel dominated the forward section, the
rest of the helm had been decked out like a man cave. A leather couch and chair
were shoved in the corner behind a coffee table. At the end of the couch an
entertainment cabinet housed a stack of electronics, CDs, tapes, and albums.
More party lights crisscrossed overhead, creating the impression of a ceiling,
and a bar cart sat against the far side wall.

“Is that a kegorator?” I said,
pointing to a mid-size refrigerator with the tap handle embedded in the front
of the door.

“I hope so.” Mara plucked a plastic
cup from a stack on the bar cart and yanked on the handle. Golden liquid and
white foam spilled into her cup. “Sweet!” Mara said, in a high, sing-song
voice. She handed me the full glass and poured one for herself. “This will make
things so much better.”

“It certainly can’t hurt.” I sat
down in the leather chair and propped my feet on the coffee table. The beer was
icy cold and perfect. “Oh, my God, that’s nice.”

A happy growl vibrated from Mara.
She licked her lips, giving an extra smack for good measure, and took a seat on
the couch, also putting up her feet. “Ya know, this might actually be fun.”
When I scowled at her, she continued. “I mean it. Our first trip might be a
little rough. We have to figure out the obstacles, things we shouldn’t do, but
this could be our
me
time.”

“You mean like pedicures and
journaling?”

“Okay.” She grimaced and shrugged.
“If that’s your thing. I’ll probably just read.”

“And since Nate and Cam aren’t
here, there’s nobody to boss us around.” I chugged a few gulps and wiped my
mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re a diabolical genius.”

“You have no idea,” she said,
before downing her beer.

True to his word, Hal was still
waiting for us when we returned from checking out the ferry. “Did you ladies
have a nice time?”

“We had a really good time, thank
you very much.” I marched into the elevator. “Or should I say, no thanks to
you.”

That drew a full white-toothed
smile from him.

Before entering the car, Mara
stopped next to the porter and speared him with her most intimidating demon
glare—flames included. All that gained her was a deep chuckle. Thrusting her
chin in the air and huffing with disdain, she strode into the elevator,
pivoted, and crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glower at him.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I
told you or not,” he said, stepping inside and closing the doors. “You had to
be vetted before you could enter.”

“Yes, but you got a little too much
joy out of watching us get blown off our feet.” I mirrored Mara’s stance,
leveling the stare I used on my kids when they were being difficult. “Not
cool.”

Another grunt of laughter rumbled
from him and the elevator lurched sideways, starting its trek back to the
physical world. The smile still playing across Hal’s mouth challenged my
ability to keep quiet. It had been centuries, if not millennia, since he’d been
to the river, and I was certain Hal was more than a little curious about what
we’d found. But I’d be damned if I’d give him an inkling of insight. Obviously,
Mara felt the same way, and we rode in silence the entire trip back.

The lack of conversation didn’t
seem to bother him one bit and when the door slid open, depositing us in the
bathroom on the fifth floor of the Expo Center, he simply bowed and then
disappeared.

“Say, that’s pretty handy,” Estelle
said. The ghost perched on the edge of the sink, smoking a cigarette. “Then
again, I guess grim reapers got to travel fast, like Santa Claus.”

“Something like that,” I said.
“Estelle, this is my friend Mara. She’s helping me with the overpopulation
problem.”

The ghost took a long drag on her
cigarette and then blew out, sending a cloud of spectral smoke at me. “How’s
that going?”

“Uhh, it’s going.” I inhaled,
savoring the smell, and then released my breath. “We should start seeing some
progress tonight.”

“Well, we’ll just wait here until
you give us the heave-ho.”

“Us?” I looked around but didn’t
see any other spirits.

“A couple of my high school buddies
popped in.” She took another puff. “They’re checking out the casino. Never been
to Vegas before.”

“Lucky them. Okay, I’ll keep you
posted on things.” I walked to the door and rested my hand on the handle. “You
need anything?”

“Nope.” Estelle patted the pack of
cigarettes in her pocket. “I’m good.”

“It was nice meeting you, Estelle,”
Mara said.

“A pleasure.”

We exited the bathroom onto an
empty hall. “If what Tabris said is true, it should still be around one
o’clock.” I pressed my hand to my stomach. “I’m starving.”

“Me, too.” Mara locked her arm
through mine. “Let’s grab a bite and then go shopping.”

“Shopping for what?” My reserve
savings had been eaten up fixing our old heater. “I’ve got about a hundred
dollars total.”

“Wrong.” Mara pulled me to a stop.
“You won sixteen hundred dollars about…” She held up her bare wrist, as if
looking at the time. “An hour and a half ago.”

I’d completely forgotten about the
money. Our Blazing Sevens adventure seemed like it happened days ago. Maybe it
had. Since time didn’t exist outside the physical plane, we could have been at
the river for a month.

“That’s right.” I squeezed her arm.
“Thanks to you.” A contented sigh flowed from me. “Still, I can’t spend too
much. So, what are we shopping for?”

“It’s just my opinion,” Mara said,
“but if we’re going to ferry souls, we each need killer outfits.”

Fashion wasn’t my strong suit.
“What did you have in mind?”

“For me, I’m thinking of something
in red leather, pants, boots, maybe a corset vest.”

“If anybody could pull off that
outfit, it’s you, Mara.” I laid hand against my chest. “I, on the other hand,
have no desire to jam all this lusciousness into anything designed to make me
sweat or cut off circulation to valuable parts of my body.”

“Of course not.” She released her
hold on my arm. “Comfort first, always. We’ll find your style and you’ll love
it.”

I doubted that but thought it best
not to contradict her. We chowed a couple of burgers at the fast food place in
the food court, and then headed to the Grand Canal shops. Expensive stores were
housed in a façade reminiscent of Venice. In the center meandered a blue river,
complete with costumed gondoliers, who worked large paddles attached to black
gondolas. I’d probably never get to Italy, but it was fun and easy to imagine I
actually was there.

Surprisingly, I found the perfect
outfit in the first store we went into. I stepped out of the dressing room and
held my arms out, doing a full turn. “How do I look?”

“Fantastic.” Mara circled me,
stopping to run her hand down the black-on-black skull print skinny jeans. “I
should get a pair of these.”

I lifted the hem of my black long-sleeved
T-shirt and hooked my thumb inside the waistband. “They’ve got some stretch.” I
dropped the shirt and squatted. “I could even wear these—” Catching the eye of
the sales attendant, I changed
reaping
to, “—to work.”

“And the boots?” Mara pointed to my
feet. “Comfy?”

“So comfy.” I did a jumping jack.
“And I love the wedge heel. Sexy and sensible.”

Mara turned to the hovering
attendant. “Do you have a jacket? Something that tapers in at the waist and is
longer? Nothing boxy.”

“Let me check.” The sales clerk
bounced out of the dressing area and returned less than a minute later. “How
about this?”

“Love, love, love,” Mara said,
taking the black and gray pinstriped sweater duster from her. “It’s so classy.”

The fit was perfect and I had to
admit, I looked amazing. “This works.”

“You look hot. If I were a lesbian
I’d totally go for you,” Mara said.

“I am a lesbian,” the clerk chimed
in, “and ditto to what she said.”

“How can I not buy this outfit
after praise like that?” I fingered the price tag and choked. “Three hundred
dollars for the sweater? Holy crap.” Finding each price tag, I quickly tallied
the total. “Seven hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Don’t forget the boots,” said the
clerk. “They’re three-fifty.”

My mouth dropped open. The most I’d
ever paid for any item of clothing was two hundred dollars for snow boots.
Those, at least, had been useful. This was purely for fun.

“We’ll take it,” Mara said,
reaching over and pushing my mouth closed.

“Excellent.” The clerk held the
dressing room door open. “I’ll package everything and ring you up when you’re
ready.”

“Hold on, I need to think about
this.” I stepped away from the clerk in case she had any crazy notions of
helping me undress. “I can’t spend that kind of money on myself.” Even though
we were in a high-end store, I hadn’t realized just how high-end. “I’ve got
bills to pay and a thousand dollars goes a long way.”

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Mara
said to the clerk, dismissing her. When alone, she turned to me. “There’s more
where that came from.”

“What? Money?”

“Yes.” She grabbed me by the
shoulders and spun me toward the dressing room. “So please, do something nice
for yourself and buy this outfit.”

“I don’t feel right about cheating
the slots again, Mara.” I hooked my fingers on the door and peered over the top
at her. “Not because I’m holier than thou, but because it will catch up with
me. Somehow, karma will pay me back.”

“Fine.” She shooed me with her
fingers. “We’ll ask Tabris to cover it. After all, we’re working for GRS. The
least they can do is buy us adequate clothing for the job.”

“Do you think they will?” I kicked
off the fabulous boots and peeled the skull pants to my ankles. The outfit
really was perfect. “What if they don’t?”

“I guarantee they will.”

Mara’s promise lacked conviction. A
moral dilemma raged inside me. I knew I could buy the clothes and somebody
would reimburse me. The question was who—GRS or Mara? If Mara, then where would
she get the money? My guess was from a slot machine. The answer had come full
circle, back to cheating the casino. I weighed the difference between me
personally doing the gambling versus accepting money and not asking questions.
My moral compass rocked back and forth, refusing to point true.

I gathered the clothes, hugging
them for a second, and then held them out the door. “I’m going to Hell.”

“Some of us have already been
there.” She gathered the clothes. “At least you’re in good company.”

Instead of the red leather corset
Mara had wanted, she chose a more subdued ensemble, limiting the red leather to
the pants. She paired them with a flowy black tunic that would have looked like
a lampshade on me, and black-spiked-heeled-ankle boots. Tonight we would both
be sexy and sensible.

After hitting a couple of stores
for accessories, we went to our rooms to get ready for the evening. I pulled
out my keycard and froze mid-swipe. Music filtered from inside my room. Elvis?
I shoved the card in the lock and pushed open the door.

Tandy bounced up and down on the
bed, dancing in circles. Five ghostly Elvis impersonators stood around the bed,
performing iconic pelvic thrusts and hip moves, while belting out
Hound Dog
.

I dropped my purse and bags on the
floor next to the bathroom, and edged into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, Lisa.” Tandy spun, bounced,
and pivoted again. “Meet my new friends. Elvises, my roommate Lisa.”

The closest Elvis moved toward me,
shaking his hips. His white jumpsuit stretched tight across his belly, working
overtime to keep him contained. He lifted my hand and bent to kiss my knuckles.
A chill rippled up my arm. “Nice to meet you, pretty lady.”

“Hi.” I tugged my hand free.
Unfortunately, it seemed the no-chill zone was limited to the riverbank. “New
friends?” No doubt these guys were more regurgitated souls. “How long have you
men been back?”

Tandy stopped bouncing. “They
popped into Big C’s suite about three hours ago and we decided to bring the
party down here.”

“Great.” I would have protested,
but what was the point? Convincing Tandy to vacate the room had proven
fruitless so far. I doubted she’d change her mind. If the party still raged
when we got back from ferrying souls, then I’d put my foot down. I slipped
behind a young, skinny Elvis and opened the dresser drawer, pulling out fresh
undies and my black bra. “I’m going to take a shower.” Making sure not to touch
any of the spirits, I eased out and backed to the bathroom. “I don’t care if
you stay but this—” I pointed to the bathroom. “—is a no ghost zone. Got it?”

The group started singing again and
Tandy shot me two thumbs-up before breaking into hip swivels. I’d have to trust
that they’d keep their word and let me shower in peace. I grabbed my purse and
bags, hauling them into the bathroom with me, and locked the door. Not that
locks would keep them out, but it made me feel better.

After showering, I took extra time
applying my rarely used makeup. I attempted a balance between natural and whore
paint, and think I nailed it. Before doing my hair, I dressed. Thankfully, the
clothes looked just as good in the bathroom as they had in the store. Another
few minutes on my hair and I was ready. I unlocked the door and strode into the
room, hoping to get Tandy’s opinion, but the ghosts were gone. Dang, the one
time I wanted to show off a little and there was no one to model for.

“I look good.” The doors of the
closet were full-length mirrors and gave me a view of the entire scope of my
outfit. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything close to sexy. I
wondered what Nate would think about my look. Would he even notice? “Who cares?
I like it.”

I pulled my phone out of my purse
and turned it on. Text notifications pinged one after the other, all from Nate.
I scrolled through. The last message he’d sent said we were to meet in the
lobby in fifteen minutes.

The rest of the messages were
varying degrees of “Where are you?” and “Where have you been?”

“How about a ‘please’ or ‘can you
be ready?’” I mumbled.

I replied with, “On my way” and
dropped the phone back in my purse. Another message dinged but I ignored it. As
I closed the door, my phone dinged again. For crying out loud, the man needed
to learn patience. I strolled to the elevator, choosing not to reply.

At the tenth floor, my phone
erupted in my purse, the theme song from
The Addams Family
blaring. I
fumbled inside and pulled it out. It was Nate. The elevator settled and the
doors slid open. He stood with his back to me, the phone pressed to his ear.