Ghost Money by Stephen Blackmoore

Author:Stephen Blackmoore [Blackmoore, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2020-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Lying to Hank was easier than I expected. My gut tells me he’s still working for Darius, and this was all a performance to get me to think he’s on my side. Of course, he might just hate Darius so much he’ll jump on anything that could take him out.

The fact that I don’t actually have a plan isn’t a big deal, so long as Darius or Hank think I have one. If Hank’s on the take, Darius won’t move on me when he hears about it. If he’s not, then Hank will probably stay out of my way for a little while before he figures out he’s been played. Either way, it should give me a little breathing room. Crossing fingers.

With that seed planted, I just have to wait to see which way it grows. Until then, I have to figure out what’s going on with Billy. I didn’t exactly plan for this little excursion, so I don’t have my phone on me. Which is just as well, because I need to head back to the Ambassador, burn these clothes, take some oxy, and do something about this ragged gash in my face.

There are days I think I should just go around wearing a painter’s smock or a hazmat suit. Maybe something plastic that’s easy to hose off. Getting back to the Ambassador is easy enough with a little Sharpie magic to keep people from looking at me, but I feel disgusting.

My clothes are a lost cause, covered in so much blood that it fills my shoes. Even after it’s gotten cold and stiff, it’ll draw ghosts from all over if I’m not careful. I have to get into the Ambassador’s space before crossing over to keep from becoming ghost chow.

Hank turning out to be a demon has me a little thrown. I’ve only run into one other demon smart enough to have a conversation with who didn’t try to kill me outright, and that’s only because it’d been trapped inside a henge in Wales.

I don’t fully trust him, but I’m banking on being able to trust him long enough to see what side he’s actually on. If he’s telling me the truth, great. If not, I still have Peter out of the picture, some bad intel fed to Darius, and hopefully some time to not have to think about any of them.

I’m a little worried about how the Ambassador will react to all the blood, so I’m ready to pop back to the living side if I can move fast enough. So far it hasn’t tried anything, but then, I haven’t been here covered in gore like barbecue sauce until now.

“Good evening, sir,” the bellboy says to me when I cross over inside the Ambassador’s lobby. Chipper and proper as ever. “You’re looking a bit put out. Do you need a hand with anything, sir? Medical assistance?”

“Could you actually help me if I did?”

“I do have the memories of a surgeon who resided in me from 1962 to 1968.

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