Page 40 of Squad Ghouls

“I promise not to shoot her.” Probably a lie, but necessary. “I have other equipment that can help get through to her, or even contain her so she can’t chop us up into bite-sized chunks.”

Owain pursed his lips as he thought, and I nervously counted down the seconds in my head, knowing the ghost could come back at any moment.

“There’s a safe behind the reception desk.”

He’d barely finished before I was yanking us towards the back stairs, already plotting a path around the ghost in my mind. There were more ways to lose it upstairs, and I didn’t want to get stuck in her line of sight by gunning straight for the front door on this level.

“Do you know what that ghost is?” I asked quietly as we ran, the light bouncing in Owain’s hand as he tried to keep it pointed in front of us.

“Not sure… I mean, she looks like a Scorpio, but it’s hard to tell,” Owain whispered back.

I had to FORCE myself not to stop. “Owain. You have to be fucking with me on purpose. Please tell me you’re fucking with me.”

“You think she’s something else? A Libra?”

“I’M NOT ASKING THE GHOST’S STAR SIGN!”

“Oh.” He paused as we hit the top of the stairs. “Well, you could have been clearer. Are you asking if they’re an introvert or—”

I backed him into the wall and braced one arm next to his head, the light hitting my chest.

“Ghost, Owain. I don’t want their Instagram profile bio or their MBTI! Spirit. Wraith. Banshee. Poltergeist. You live with a bunch of ghosts; you must know what type of ghost they are?”

“That’s their personal information. It would be rude to just…ask. You wouldn’t like it if a stranger on the street came up to you and started prodding into the state of your corporeal existence, would you? I only know the ones who choose to share. Like Bronwyn.”

We didn’t have time for me to argue with him. Or kiss him stupid. Fuck, but I wanted to kiss him so much.

“Great idea, Ryan,” I muttered under my breath as I got us moving. “Yet again. Fail at life. Take the first job that comes to you. Go exorcise ghosts. Lie to your mum. Land yourself in the middle of nowhere with a lunatic who only wears shorts to test you. Get chased by a knife-wielding ghost! Brilliant decision-making skills.”

“That does sound questionable,” Owain said helpfully. “But I’m sure it’ll work out. You seem pretty smart.”

The earnestness with which he said it was completely incongruous with the situation we were currently in. I slowed and stared at him over my shoulder, looking for any hint that he was truly fucking with me after all. Owain just stared back with those big brown doe eyes, radiating sincerity and optimism magnified by the lenses of his glasses.

“Are we not running anymore?” Owain asked me, breaking me out of my stupor.

I snapped back around and took the lead again, swallowing whatever that was. Feelings tasted awful. Not that I was having any. It was just…acid reflux or something.

“Can you get your ghost gang to help us out with Miss Murder?” I asked as we crept around a corner, Owain’s fingers curled into the fabric at the small of my back.

It was spooky around here with no lights. There was an actual haunted house vibe that had my skin crawling and my nerves expecting something to jump out at me any moment.

“They’re not a gang.”

“Owain—”

“They’re a squad.”

“Can we not argue semantics right now,” I whisper-hissed. “Is the microwave ghost ready to throw down or not? Reheat the Pain. Micro-Wave Goodbye, Sucker. Pop Goes the Arse-kicking. Radioactive Ghost’s Revenge.”

Owain stared at me in confusion and I shifted on my feet.

“C’mon. They’re fake action film titles, you alliterate every fucking thing—look, never mind. Are you going to call the ominous entity to help or not?”

“Popty’s a pacifist.”

I closed my eyes and nodded. “Of course he is. The ship of pirates are cowards. The scary spirit entity is a pacifist. The two idiots are chained together for eternity and spend all their time fighting each other, and the last one won’t leave his room. All we have left is an old lady!”

“Bronwyn can fight.”