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“No,” she said, folding her own arms over her chest. “No,Ishouldn’thaveto apologize.Thecoffee spill was an accident but everythingIsaid was true—he was touching me and harassing me andIshouldn’thave to put up with that.”
“Thisis bullshit!”Thecustomer raged, beforeMr.Harveycould say anything. “Shepoured boiling hot coffee on my dick and then she has the nerve to insult me?”Hestabbed a finger atHanna. “Iwant her firednoworI’mgoing to sue this fucking restaurant for everything its worth!”
Mr.Harveywent pale—he didn’t like lawsuits.
“I’msosorry,Sir,” he said to the customer. “Youare absolutely right.”Andthat was when he turned toHannaand said the fateful words. “That’sit—you’re fired!Getout!”Andhe had pointed to the door of theDenny’s, indicating that she should leave at once.
Hannahad tried arguing, but it was a lost cause.Mr.Harveyhad been looking for an excuse to get rid of her from day one and now he had one.Evennow, no one spoke up for her, though it felt like every eye in the place was on her as she marched to the swinging double glass doors at the front of theDenny’s.
Butwhen she got to the doors, she hesitated.Thenight outside was dark and impenetrable.Thefew streetlights in the parking lot were the oldArcsodium kind that barely put out a dim, flickering orange glow.Anythingmight be waiting out there for her—anything at all.
Hemight be waiting.
Butas she hesitated,Mr.Harveycame stomping up and swung one of the doors wide, letting in a blast of hot, muggy air.Tampanever really cooled down, except for a few months in the early part of the year, and it was only just pastHalloween.
“Get…out,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now!”
Andthen, of course,Hannahad no choice but to leave—stepping out into the night and hoping that the thing that had been glaring at her through the windowwasn’twaiting in the shadows to devour her.
2
HANNA
Thankfullynothing jumped out at her as she made her way quickly to her beat upHondaCivic, parked in the corner of the cracked parking lot.
Thecar was over ten years old and it broke down with alarming frequency, but it was allHannacould afford.Itwas either theCivicor the bus—and a surprising number of people died on busses each year.
Hannadidn’t like riding with the shades of the dead—it was especially creepy when the bus was full and she could see living customers sitting in the same seats already occupied by ghosts.Theyalways looked uncomfortable and often shivered and rubbed their arms as though they were cold.Eventhose without aGiftcould often sense the presence of the dead, though they usually just thought it was getting chilly or the sun had gone behind a cloud.
Tonightthe oldCivicstarted right up, much to her relief.Butonce she had it started, she was at a loss for where to go.Shedidn’t want to go back to her empty apartment, not when she knew theDarkEntitywas stalking her.Hemight come find her again, and she couldn’t face him right now—not on top of losing yetanotherjob.
Hannahad never been able to hold down employment for long.Thesupernatural world interfered with her too much and other people sensed there was something different about her—something other, somethingwrong.Itmade them want to avoid or get rid of her.Soshe moved from one menial occupation to another, never holding any one job for longer than six months.
Itwas an exhausting way to live and that wasbeforetheDarkEntityhad started stalking her.Nowshe felt close to the edge of some kind of mental and emotional breakdown.Notthat she couldaffordto have a breakdown,Hannathought dryly.Whowould pay her rent if she did?She’dwind up homeless, on the street.No—shehadto keep going, she told herself.ScrewDenny’s—she’d find somewhere else to work.Rightnow she just needed to kill some time until daylight.
Shedrove to an all-nightWal-Martand went inside to browse.Shecouldn’t really afford to buy much—all she had was the less than ten dollars she’d earned in tips that night and her bank account was nearly dry.Butroaming the brightly lit aisles was better than going home to her dark, lonely apartment.
Atlast, however,Hannawas nearly dead on her feet.She’dbeen up almost twenty-four hours by that point and dawn was only an hour or two away.Shedecided to go home and risk getting some rest.Shebought a large box ofKoshersalt to renew her wards and finally left the store.
Drivinghome in the night, she kept thinking she saw the burning red eyes staring at her from the back seat.Butevery time she turned her head to look, it was only her imagination.Shebegan to hope that maybe theDarkEntityhad decided he’d done enough for tonight—maybe he would leave her alone for awhile.
God, if only he would!Shewassotired and so alone.Ifonly she had someone to go home to—someone to protect her and care for her.ButHannaknew that was never going to happen for her.Mensensed that she was strange and shied away from her because of it.
Ofcourse, it didn’t help that she was extra curvy as well.Shehad a pretty face and long, golden brown hair and hazel eyes, but apparently none of that counted when your dress size was in the double digits.
Hannakept a wary eye on the streets as she drove through her neighborhood—unofficially named “SuitcaseCity” because so many people moved in and out of the area so quickly.TheCivic’swheels rumbled over cracked pavement as she drove past abandoned cars up on blocks, littered yards filled with trash, and the occasional sex worker, strolling through the shadows cast by the streetlamps.
Atlast she got toTheCarltonArms—her apartment complex.Despiteits grand name, it was little more than slum housing.Thebuilding whereHannalived was grimy and dark, filled with cramped apartments that had bad plumbing and walls so thin the neighbors’ fights could be heard at all hours of the day and night.
Itwasn’t a safe area for a woman alone to live andHannaknew it, but it was all she could afford now that rents had gone sky-high.Shewas lucky to find anything she could get on her limited budget without trying to find a roommate, which never worked out for her.
Keepinga sharp eye on the dingy surroundings, she hurried from her car to the front door.Onceinside, she took the elevator up to the third floor, trying not to notice the dead man in the corner with his brains blown out and sliding in slimy gray and red chunks down the rear wall.Ithad been a drug deal gone wrong,Hannathought.Onceor twice the ghost had tried to talk to her, but she didn’t have her sisterSam’sgift of leading lost spirits into the afterlife, so she did her best to ignore him.
Thankfully, this time he didn’t speak andHannawas able to get from the elevator to the door of her apartment with minimal difficulty.
Therewas another dead man in the hallway that she carefully avoided.Thisone had been an abusive husband, killed by his wife after she’d taken so much abuse she finally had to fight back.She’dslit his throat while he was sleeping.
Thelong wound bisecting his neck gaped like a lipless smile when he looked atHanna, who was carefulnotto look back.Thisspirit was still filled with rage and he hated women—it was better not to antagonize him.Mostlyhe left her alone as long as she didn’t get too close.
