Ruby: A Reverse Harem Romance: Jewels Cafe Book 6 Read online

  "What?" I nearly dropped my smoothie.

  "They are face-making over there.” Muriel's tone was pure disgust as she picked at the buttons of the prim, high-collared dress she’d died in.

  I set down my smoothie on a gravestone and started to flutter my wings, letting my feet hover a few inches off the ground. I pulled my waist-length brown hair up into a ponytail as I cocked my head. "Face-making? Are you sure?” I mean, this was His favorite planet. But really? I stared at Muriel’s grey eyes. “God sometimes gives seminars on making faces and bodies from clay, but I've never gotten to go to one.”

  Her jaw dropped. That meant awe, right? I was pretty certain Harmony had covered that in the chapter on human expressions. Awe was the exact right emotion for this. Watching God create new life was supposed to be awesome. “I’ve heard it’s amazing. He takes this ball of dust—oohh, I wanna see!" I clapped, excited. Finally, something cool happening on this planet! I turned to look at the crypt, which had a giant flying horse carved on the side.

  Muriel’s cold, see-through arm latched onto mine. Her wrinkles were edged in white as she leaned her face closer to mine. "Trust me, you don't want to see. They are basket-weaving."

  Sometimes Muriel liked to overemphasize her words in weird ways. And mix her metaphors. I arched an eyebrow. "I thought you said they were making faces." Disappointment ran through me. Of course, it was too good to be true. God wasn’t down here. He wasn’t giving demonstrations. I sighed. I hadn’t heard of ghosts with memory problems before, but I supposed it was a possibility. Silver Springs was a bit different than most towns with its large supernatural population. So, maybe Muriel was a bit different than most ghosts. Or maybe the fact that she’d been a ghost since 1902 might have been part of it. Maybe that was too long of a ghost-life?

  Muriel put a hand to her forehead as though I was giving her a headache. "Don't you know any of the sayings for …” She leaned in and whispered, “Amorous congress?"

  "I thought this country had Congress in a different state." I was pretty sure I read that somewhere. But so many dimensions, so many planets, so many rules … after a while it was hard to tell. But even if I wasn’t certain where Congress was, I was certain that Muriel was losing it. She had jumped topics three sentences in a row. Maybe she needed my miracle-working, not Holly. Though Muriel swore she wouldn’t cross over until one of her descendants became President. Maybe the Congress thing was a delusion.

  Muriel let out a sound that was nearly a growl. She was such a grumpy ghost. She almost made it a bummer for me to hang out in the cemetery. Luckily, Maddie was a young ghost—and the reason I still regularly visited.

  Maddie was super helpful, telling me all about humans and life on earth and all the weird little quirks that you didn't hear about when you were just working day in and day out for the Man. Like, she taught me that men who wear plaid can’t be trusted. I had no idea that was even a thing! Wish I’d known that last year, before the miracle debacle. I’d have thunk twice before trying to help that old crankpot, George. He was a plaid-wearer.

  Maddie was wise beyond the twenty-years she’d been alive before she’d choked on a grape and become a ghost. She also happened to be Holly’s sister. She’d helped me choose her sister as this year’s miracle target. And she was the reason I was here tonight. If anyone would know how to calm down Holly and get her back on track, it would be Maddie. I summoned her. "Maddie!”

  Maddie materialized just beside Muriel. She was a ghost with a diamond in her nose, half her head shaved, the other half had shoulder-length semi-transparent hair Maddie swore was rainbow-colored when she was alive, before it turned the universal undead white. She took one look at the angry old ghost and immediately knew what was going on. "Stop ruining everybody's fun." Maddie shot a big jet of air at Muriel—blowing the other ghost halfway across the cemetery. Muriel’s howl convinced a couple walking down the street to clutch each other close and hurry past in the darkness.

  “You could be a bit nicer,” I gently scolded. If Maddie would just tone it down a bit, I was certain she could cross over to the good side. But she was constantly making choices that kept her here. Sometimes I wondered if it was on purpose, if she was sticking around for Holly. But I didn’t press. It was against Hallelujah Code 4.48-72 - Free Choice. People had to make their own decisions. Including ghosts.

  Maddie just blew a raspberry at me.

  I sighed. “I think Muriel’s gone crazy. She’s saying nonsense things are happening over here.”

  I started to fly off in the direction Muriel had indicated all the mystery activity was occurring, behind the crypt. Face-making, basket-weaving, Congress? Her sayings were so crazy, I just had to find out what the fuss was all about. I circled around the edge of the crypt, hovering with my wings just a few feet in the air so that my feet wouldn’t crunch through any of the crisp November leaves. It was hard work—exhausting—but those leaves could be awfully sharp and poky. And they hid evil sticks underneath them. Walking on earth was nowhere near as good as walking on heaven’s clouds. It was darn near dangerous, what with potholes and black ice and all the uneven awfulness. It was why I’d settled on a shoe store. People needed foot protection. I took a deep breath to get my mind off the ground and back into curious mode before I peeked around the corner of the crypt.

  What I saw had nothing to do with baskets. I saw a very beautiful—very naked—vampire woman straddling a nude young man. She bent over his neck, licking up blood from a bite she’d already made, as her hips shifted back and forth on top of him.

  Hmmm… my head tilted as I wondered briefly why the cloud Muriel wouldn’t just say there was a mating ritual going on behind the crypt.

  Next to me, Maddie's hand pinched her own semi-transparent nipple through her shirt while she watched. "Super-hot, huh?" she whispered.

  I wasn't sure what she meant. The weather was actually quite brisk. But then, as the dark-haired vampire woman leaned back and moaned in pleasure, I felt a tightening sensation in my abdomen and the space between my thighs heated. Was that what Maddie meant by hot? Did humans have internal heat? This corporeal body was so different from what I was used to. Aquatic bodies were usually cold-blooded, not warm-blooded like this.

  Yet another detail lacking from the manual.

  I watched the vampire’s breasts bounce up and down as she rode her mate. Maddie might be an expert on human things, but breasts were something I knew all about. I leaned over toward Maddie and whispered back, "We've done various angelic studies in different realms. Apparently, gelatinous substances are always attractive. That's why God made boobs jiggle."

  Next to me, Maddie burst into laughter. I wasn’t sure why bouncing breasts were funny to her. That was counter to all the research I’d ever read about them being erogenous. I debated telling my brother, who was on the Universal Reproductive Committee. But that would involve a trip back to heaven. And that was not gonna happen until my wings got bigger. No way I was gonna let him call me a parakeet again. That was a humiliation I’d only suffer once in eternity, thank you.

  The vampire turned to glare at us even as she swiveled her hips. "If you're going to ruin the mood, get out."

  "Sapphire—" the man started to gulp air. His face turned slightly red.

  Sapphire just shushed him and scolded us, "Look, either join us or go the fuck away. Shouldn’t you be RIP and all that?"

  Maddie clapped back. "There ain't no resting in peace here. You picked the wrong cemetery for that."

  She held her hand up for a high five. I didn’t really understand, but she’d taught me never to ‘leave her hanging’ so I smacked her smoky hand. Though I was an angel, the ability to physically interact with ghosts was supposed to be a perk. Something about exorcisms or whatnot. I hadn’t bothered to read up on that yet. That was level five stuff.

  Below us, in the dull brown grass, the man’s hand flew to his nose. He clamped down on his face and wiggled under the vampire, who set her hand on his chest to make him
grow still. But he couldn’t hold it in. The man inhaled hard. And then, he sneezed. Suddenly, he shifted into a pegasus. A pegasus on his back, wings spread on the grass, belly up and hooves awkwardly waving in the air. Because he was still connected to his mate.

  The vampire screeched.

  Maddie immediately clamped her hands over her eyes. "OMG. Ew!"

  I tilted my head and looked at my ghost friend. "What's wrong?"

  She didn’t answer. She disappeared. I wondered if, before she’d died, Maddie had never seen any interspecies mating. I sighed. Was that not a thing on Earth? Harmony’s Guide said nothing about it.

  But they “petted” cats. Clearly, humans were attracted to other species.

  My hands clenched as I flew off to find Maddie. I needed answers. And I needed to tell her about what a brat her little sister Holly was being. Because I was either gonna get this thundering miracle right or I was going to have to find a new one. I was not going through another Christmas like last year. I was not gonna get another strike. This year, I was gonna get my miracle right.

  Chapter 2

  Barrister

  “Blasphemy! That’s such bullshit! You know DC characters are one dimensional!” Miguel slammed his hand down on the table. One of his Infinity Gems popped off his costume and rolled away.

  “Dude, calm down, Migs,” I told Miguel, scratching at my stomach where my stuffed Pikachu kept rubbing against my abs. I’d left my shirt unbuttoned on my Ash Ketchum costume—my last minute, embarrassing-as-hell, piece of crap cosplay costume because my ex had “picked up” my custom Rocket Racoon costume from the tailor and stolen it. The stupid Pika I’d bought online was made of sandpaper, apparently. I pulled him off the velcro strip I’d attached to my jeans and moved him to my shoulder, trading out Bulbasaur. Then I adjusted my red and white ball cap and smiled apologetically at a woman dressed as Storm from X-Men nearby.

  People in fantastic costumes roamed around the room, coming and going through the open door to the big hall that was lined with booths and vendors. The smell of churros drifted through the door and my stomach grumbled. For one day, City Hall’s Convention Center had been transformed from a dull place for business meetings into a grown-up play place. The local Silver Springs Cosplay Celebration was an annual event. Normally, it was the annual event for my friends and I to nerd out and hook up with hot, geeky girls who drove up from nearby towns and celebrate our awesome like-minded addictions. I’d camped overnight last night and gotten fourteen signatures today, from Aquaman to the actor that played my favorite Soul Reaper in the anime Bleach. It had been a good day. But our friend Brad had bought a table at the convention and apparently was using it just to piss off Migs. I rolled my eyes. Brad was such a dick—always harassing Migs about something.

  Miguel shook his head and pulled off his blue-grey Thanos mask as he crouched down to search for his missing gem. He swiped some sweat off his brow since he’d picked a costume that was basically the equivalent of a space heater. Then he scratched at the scruff he never grew into a full beard. His Spanish accent came out as he growled, “No, I’m not gonna calm down. He knows Marvel is better than DC. Boludo Brad frickin’ knows it. He’s saying this shit to get under my skin.” His blue eyes rolled in their sockets as Brad—up at a podium—said some other stupid shit, and then Migs full-on crawled under the table. He was seriously the weirdest, whitest looking Argentinian dude I’d ever met. His temper flared white-hot over the dumbest shit sometimes though.

  Brad kept talking over Miguel’s search, going on about how Wonder Woman was created to inspire women during World War II. I disagreed, but the dude had paid to have a table and present, so whatever. We could just walk away from his nonsense.

  Migs kept searching for his stone as I glanced around the room, doing one of those awkward apologetic shrugs. If Miguel kept on like this, there was zero chance in hell that the Harley Quinn cougar who’d been eyeing him all night would bite. Right now, she was shaking her head and tugging her friend in the opposite direction.

  Miguel might have looked like a model with his stupid square jaw and shit. But his mouth. Dammit all. He was so stubbornly logical and so utterly determined he was right. About everything. So, if his Thanos costume—one of the most hated super villains ever—didn’t cock block him, his yelling was about to do the job.

  Brad said, “Batman is a better vigilante than any of Avengers.”

  “That’s a lie!” Miguel bumped his head on the table as he argued. “Daredevil is as much a vigilante as Batman.”

  Shit. I took off my ballcap and swiped at the sweat beading on my own brow. But mine wasn’t from a hot costume, it was from nerves. I didn’t have a silver tongue like our friend Parker, or crazy good looks like Migs. I worked out like crazy to move myself up from guy-next-door to hot. But that meant I didn’t get easy outs like my two best friends. People didn’t just excuse me for being a dick. And right now, I was getting all the stink eye that people would never direct at Migs.

  I leaned under the table and whisper-growled, “Leave the gem and let’s just go somewhere else. It looks like the line for DJ Qualls is pretty short.” That last bit was a complete lie, but I was desperate to get him out of here. I saw someone talking to security in the distance and even though it was a bit paranoid of me, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were complaining about us.

  Crap.

  “Come on, man.” I urged him.

  Migs shook his head. “No. I sold a bit of my soul for this—” he swiped his fingers underneath a cardboard display and all I could do was cross my fingers and hope he didn’t dick it up.

  He came up clutching a red-orange soul stone that glowed a tiny bit purple around the edges.

  “Ha-ha,” I fake laughed at him. “I get it. Soul stone. Sold your soul. Good one. Okay, let’s go.” I sat back in my chair and gathered my stuff as he crawled out from under the table.

  Miguel grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as I led him out of the room. He turned and flipped Brad off one last time before the door closed behind us. Then he said, “Oh no, man. It gets better. I’m not even joking. All these stones? I traded them to this hippie chick, Wiccan or something; she works at that Hex You shop.” He threw his head back and laughed as he replaced the stone in the gauntlet on his left hand. “That woman literally gave me the stones for free. All I had to do was sign a little piece of paper telling her I granted her a bit of my soul.” He threw his head back and laughed. “Crazy right?”

  Cold fear slid down my spine. “What?” I tried not to sound panicked. But I was fucking panicked. “What was her name?”

  “Amy? No. Amethyst? I dunno man.”

  I tried not to hyperventilate. Migs traded part of his soul? And he didn’t even know who had it?

  This was bad. I should know. I’d traded away a bit of my soul once. And while I’d do it again … I’d known who I was selling it to and what I was getting for it.

  Migs … damn. He didn’t believe. But shit. Souls were real. This shit was real. And it could get real bad real fast.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it. I needed to text Parker ASAP.

  Miguel waved a hand casually. “Yeah, I looked at stones like these online, dude. Crazy. There’s a set on eBay for like $180.00. I offered to trade the woman some unicorn farts if she had any diamonds, but she didn’t take me up on it.” He guffawed, completely amused by himself. Completely unaware that all the blood had fled from my face.

  Shit.

  My best friend had just sold part of his soul to a witch and then mocked her?

  I texted Parker, our business partner and a local tech demon. A demon that Migs thought was just human. Because he didn’t know about the things that went bump in the night. Didn’t believe in them.

  SOS

  Really? I’m screwing up a server down in NYC right now.

  Yes. Soul-binding issues.

  BRT

  I breathed a sigh of relief as we moved into the larger part of City Hall tha
t was set up with displays for different handmade arts and crafts. Some woman with knitted toilet cozies that looked like shields tried to wave us over, but I steered Miguel toward the food.

  Maybe if I shoved a hot dog in his face, he’d calm down and we could wait it out until Parker came and helped me track down the bitch who’d taken Mig’s soul. I made him sit and grabbed him food as a few of our friends wandered over to join us.

  “Dude, you get less action than my grandma’s backdoor!” Brad snorted at our friend Dez as they both took seats next to Migs. Dammit, we hadn’t escaped him. He must have wrapped up his presentation as soon as Migs stopped arguing with him.

  “I know your grandma,” Dez said. “Almost asked her to be my Yzma.” Dez did finger guns in his Disney Kuzco costume. It was the lamest thing I’d ever seen—who even remembered The Emperor’s New Groove? But somehow, he pulled it off, even though he wore a woman’s wig and a damn skirt.

  I nudged Miguel with my elbow since I had two hotdogs in hand. “Mustard and onions?”

  Migs gave me a nod and I started fixing his dog.

  Brad gestured at me as I handed over the hotdog “Dude, you’re whipped. If you two start making out, I’m leaving.”

  I flipped Brad off.

  Miguel simply corrected him. “We’re hetero life mates. Look it up.”

  Brad curled his lip.

  But Dez held up a hand. “Do not be bagging on the wisdom of Jay and Silent Bob. Hetero life mates are a thing, dude. You know it.”

  Brad rolled his eyes and left the table to grab a drink and start putting the moves on a curvy version of Poison Ivy.

  I sat down next to Miguel, and dug in. Cheap, fatty hot dog grease ran down my lip.

  And that was the moment my ex walked up. Darlene.

  And fuck me if she wasn’t dressed like a goddamned sexy Pikachu. How the fuck had she known I was dressing up as Ash from Pokemon? I wondered as I smeared the grease around on my chin with a cheap paper napkin. Probably that idiot, Brad. He’d have thought it was funny.