Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

The door opened before she even knocked, and out stepped Ramona with a cocky grin. She looked like she was on the cusp of thirty—had looked that way for my entire life. She hadn’t a single deep line or gray hair. We all knew this was just her meat suit of choice, and of course, she’d picked one that was shaped like a Greek goddess.

Her cool silver eyes slid from Iris, to me, to Harlow, and then to Lou.

Fuck.

Could she see Lou? Of course, she could. She was a soul trader, after all. Shit. I hadn’t thought that through.

Ramona must’ve read my mind. Her silver eyes slid back to me and then to where my hand was joined with Harlow’s. I quickly pulled away, but it was too late. Ramona had seen it.

“I’m guessing you’re here about . . .” She looked at Lou with a questioning gaze.

“Lou,” Lou supplied bitterly.

Ramona had known Lou for her entire life and hadn’t deigned to remember her name.

“Lou,” Ramona echoed.

“Wow,” Harlow whispered. “She’s like a mind reader or something.”

Ramona’s grin was predatory, and I had the terrible urge to step in front of Harlow to shield her from that look in the demon’s eyes.

“I just can see more clearly than most,” Ramona purred, inspecting her fingernails. “Now, what do you want to ask me, witchlings?”

A twinge of anger brushed up my neck. Witchling. As if we were children. As if Iris and I weren’t in line to become our coven’s next generation of healers.

“Why were you talking to Agnes in the square last night?” Iris asked.

“You spying on me, Iris?” Ramona spoke in a deep, smooth baritone. Of course, she remembered only Iris’s name. “Ready to play with someone with a bit more bite?”

I swallowed the growl building in my throat. Iris was gorgeous, and she’d been turning heads all of her adult life. Pretty much every creature in Maple Hollow wanted to get in her pants. But hearing Ramona insinuate that she also wanted a piece of my friend gnawed at my nerves.

Iris folded her arms across her chest. “You are avoiding my question.”

“I’m not in the habit of answering questions for free.” Ramona’s eyes fell to Iris’s mouth.

“What do you want, then?” I spoke up, trying to hide the shake in my voice. “We haven’t come to barter in souls or time.”

“I see.” Ramona’s grin widened. “Though it would seem that you already have too many souls on your hands anyway.”

“What does that mean?” Harlow whispered to me, but I only shook my head in response. Now was definitely not the time to explain that the ex-girlfriend, whose murder we were investigating, was actually a ghost standing behind us.

“I’ll take a pound of gold dust for it,” Ramona suggested.

“A pound?” Iris balked. “Absolutely not.”

Ramona shrugged. “Then no answers.”

“What would you want with that much gold dust anyway?” Iris pushed.

“Would you like to pay for that question as well?” Ramona countered. Iris balled her hands into fists, and Ramona chuckled. “You’ve always been feisty.”

Iris looked like she was about to lunge at Ramona and show her just how feisty she could be.

“Fine. An ounce of gold dust. And you”—Ramona pointed to Iris—“have to go on a date with me.”

Iris’s mouth fell open, but neither did she protest.

“Absolutely not,” I cut in. “Nope. Not happening, Ramona. Have a good night.” I steered Harlow away, pushing her back toward the street. “Iris, come on.”