Page 38 of Squad Ghouls

The soft light in his room cut off, and in the corner, in the shadows, a figure stood, mouth gaping like a black hole, hair stringy and skin sallow.

“Go right ahead,” I hissed sarcastically, grabbing that soft waist and pulling Owain away from the ghost staring at him. “Ask her about her day. See what she likes to do in her spare time. Offer her some of your lotion; she’s looking dry under all that…slime.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m all out of lotion and you told me not to buy any more.” He turned to the ghost with his most genial smile. “Hello. Welcome to the Last Resort B&B. Are you looking to check in?”

“I’m the ridiculous one!?” I exclaimed in disbelief and got myself shushed for good measure, fingers squeezing my lips and nose.

“Hungry,” the ghost growled.

“I’m sorry, the kitchen is closed right now, but if you’d like to wait until morning we’re scheduled to have pancakes—”

“HUNGRY!” The scream ripped through the house and had both of us covering our ears.

Owain slowly uncurled his hands from his head. “Would you prefer waffles?”

“Fuck me sideways,” I growled in exasperation before yanking Owain out of the room just as the thing lunged.

We hit the hallway wall in a tangle, goo covering my shoulder and dripping down my arm.

“Hey!” Owain said, looking up at me from over his shoulder, glasses adorably askew. “I wasn’t done speaking to her. She might be a savoury breakfast girly.”

“The ghost doesn’t want pancakes or waffles or a full fucking English breakfast, Owain. She wants to take a bite out of that peachy arse of yours and gnaw on your bones for good measure.” I yanked him down the hallway by his arm at full pace.

Owain tried to keep up. “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe she’s looking for something specific and we just need to find out what it is.”

“Where’s my stuff?” I asked him, skimming over the crazy.

“What stuff?” Owain asked, playing dumb.

I started to argue just as the ghost appeared directly in front of us, mouth open wide and teeth sharp.

I stopped abruptly, skidding on my heels, and Owain crashed into my shoulder as he shot past me with a yelp. I tried to yank him back, the ghost comically trying to grab him as well but missing as he went in a wide arc like a spaceship slingshotting around a planet, only to crash back into my chest and send us sprawling into a heap on the floor.

I wished I had time to enjoy the vanilla scent in my nose or the warm, firm weight of his body on top of me, but the ghost in the background was a pretty pressing concern.

“Is this part of the plan?” Owain asked, eyes wide behind his glasses, which were already halfway down his nose.

“Totally,” I grunted. “It’s all under control. But maybe I could get a kiss for good luck?”

Hey, I had to shoot my shot before we potentially died, right? And Owain seemed to be considering it.

My eyes flicked over his shoulder and my heart skipped a beat. I rolled us just in time, a bloody knife lodging into the floor next to where our heads just were.

“Where the fuck did she get that?” I demanded. And how?

I tried to run through the ghost designations I knew in my head, but I was still fucking new at this and studying wasn’t a strong suit of mine. What ghost wanted to eat people, had an excessive goo problem, and liked knives? I didn’t know how I was supposed to identify them without equipment.

“You shouldn’t be running with sharp objects,” Owain told the ghost, getting off me and putting his hands on his hips as my mind raced to try and come up with some sort of solution. “It’s dangerous. We have to use gentle hands when dealing with humans now that you’re a ghost, okay? You might have hit us.”

“I think that was the idea,” I grunted as I found my feet again and looked around us for anything I could use as a weapon, but Owain was already deep into his gentle parenting lecture.

“I think you need to take a deep breath.” He pantomimed it for her. “And when you’re calmer, we can discuss all these big emotions and why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling.”

“Hun-gry,” the ghost growled.

“A lot of people feel angry when they’re peckish. I can get you a snack. A sweet treat?”

“Great idea. Let’s go to the kitchen,” I said, dragging Owain by hooking my fingers through the holes in his top.