Gossip Ghost: Undertown Paranormal Mysteries Book 1 by Tabatha Gray

Author:Tabatha Gray [Gray, Tabatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clue Press
Published: 2022-12-29T16:00:00+00:00

She caught the first one off guard by the stairs. She swung the candlestick. Too slow. The man ducked. She stumbled forward.

“Emma!” Riley said from the other side of the room.

Riley was surrounded by three intruders. A woman and two men. Emma charged, swinging her club in a broad arc, and the intruders scattered.

She grabbed Riley’s wrist. “Come on!”

“What are you doing?” Riley said.

“Leave now. Talk later.”

The four intruders were huddling in the far corner.

“What are you talking about? Emma. Emma!” Riley slapped her hard on the face.

“What was that for?”

“Answer me! Are you possessing Emma, or do you only look like her?” Riley whistled and motioned to intruders. “Astrid! Get my sachet. The rest of you, ID protocol!”

Riley pushed away from Emma, and they swarmed her.

They took her candlestick, lowered her to the floor, and held her there. Riley was above her, pulling something from a burgundy velvet sack.

“Tell me your name!” Riley said, pressing something hard and twiggy into Emma’s forehead.

“Emma?”

Riley shook her head and threw away the twig. Astrid handed them a small shiny object.

“Riley, what the hell—” Emma couldn’t finish her thought because Riley had deftly inserted a small coin in her mouth.

“By the concordant of our peoples, I pay your debt. Reveal yourself, fae!”

Emma spit out the coin. “Riley, what the hell are you doing?”

Astrid handed a cup to Riley, which she immediately dumped onto Emma’s face.

“Apple juice? Why are you pouring apple juice on my face?”

Riley stared at Emma, a hard look in her eye. “Why did you try to kill one of my undergraduates in the library with a candlestick?”

“Tom Beyer was just murdered. I thought they were up here doing the same to you!”

“Oh.” Riley tapped their chin with a forefinger. “You sure this isn’t a trick? I’m warning you. Any tricks, and we’re finishing the ID protocol. There’re twenty-eight more tests, and they become increasingly unpleasant.”

“Tricks?”

“Lost time. Protoplasm. The old switcheroo.” Riley scrutinized Emma for what seemed like an eternity. “Let her up.”

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