"No, you're going to be the patient."

"But you said—"

"I said I needed to put you in a nurse's uniform. I didn't say it was part of the plan."

I rolled my eyes and fought the urge to laugh. "Okay, tell me what you have in mind."

I was going to play patient—a more thorough disguise, since two of the haunters had already seen me.

Stained, baggy sweats, my hair snarled and oily, eyes red and sunken—the look of someone for whom personal hygiene has been a low priority for a while. After I finished the glamour, Kristof conjured a wheelchair for me, and we headed back to the haunters.

Chapter 8

"YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN BART'S FACE." THE YOUNG woman who'd been taunting Barton to violence had returned to the other haunters. "Franco couldn't write her report fast enough. She was on the phone to Peterson before Chang even came to collect ol' Bart."

Kristof wheeled me into the room, and silence fell as every eye turned our way. Outfitted in a generic orderly's uniform, he grumbled under his breath about the nurses being too busy to help settle me in. He steered carefully, making sure not to run through anything that should be solid. He left me in the middle of the room, and grabbed the folded bedding from the foot of the bed. With a quick conjure, he duplicated it into a ghost-world set, then began unfolding the top sheet. I sat motionless, chin on my chest, gaze downcast.

"Well, looky-looky," chortled Ted, my headless accountant.

I lifted my head and scanned the room. I frowned over at Kristof.

"We got audio," the teenage girl said. "But I think the video's on the fritz."

"Damn," the other woman said.

"I prefer the listeners," Ted said as he sauntered toward me. "Much more unsettling, isn't it, honey? You can hear us, but you can't see a damned thing."

"Who—who's there?" I said.

Ted leaned down to my ear. "I'm right here. Can't you see me?"

"N—no."

"Well, maybe that's because you're crazy."

The others laughed.

"Only crazy people hear voices," Ted whispered. "Are you crazy, honey? Lost your marbles? Not playing with a full deck? Loony as a… loony as a…"

"Jaybird," Kris said.

They all looked over at Kristof. He shook out another sheet, and let it drift onto the bed.

"Did he…?" Ted said.

"I don't think so," the old man said. "Maybe he was just—"

"Jaybird," Kris said, his back still to them. "The word you want to finish your insult is 'jaybird.' There are others, but that is most correct. Loony as a jaybird."

He pivoted slowly. His eyes glowed neon blue. It was a simple glamour, but the teen girl gasped and backpedaled.

Kristof lifted his hands over his head, a rain of sparks falling from his fingertips. The ghosts stared like cavemen seeing their first eclipse. As Kris's hands fell, the orderly's uniform morphed into a high-collared black shirt and black pants. A final flourish, and bolts of energy leapt from his palms, rebounding off the far wall and ping-ponging through the room.

The old man ran for the door. Kris lifted one finger in a fast circle—the gesture for a barrier spell. He let me cast the actual incantation under my breath. Barrier spells were sorcerer magic, but Kris's was less than reliable, and he knew it.

When the old man smacked into the barrier, he tottered back. The woman bolted for the nearest wall, only to hit the barrier there.

"Who are you?" Ted demanded.

"Who am I?" Kris's voice took on a tone that had cowed many an insubordinate junior exec. "You dare to ask? You need to ask?"

"See, dearest?" I said as I rose from my wheelchair. "I told you he didn't recognize me earlier."

The teen girl stared at me—the new me, cleaned up and dressed in a short black dress with a mandarin collar to match Kris's. Ted turned and blinked hard.

"You," he said. "You're that bitch from—"

I slammed a shock bolt into his gut. Didn't hurt him, but he felt the jolt, especially when he hit the floor. I strolled over, and cast a binding spell that froze him bowed over, half-standing.

"There," I said. "That is the proper position to take before me. Leave it, and I'll give you something to make that shock feel like a love tap."

I broke the spell. Still crouched, he glanced around at his fellow haunters, but they all looked away.

Ted's gaze lifted to mine. "I don't know what kind of ghosts you guys are—"

"Ghosts!" Kris thundered, striding over to him. "First you trespass on our territory, then you mistake us for ghosts?"

"Your territory?" the old man said. "Is this yours? We didn't know—"

"Then your ignorance adds insult to injury. You have trespassed, and you shall pay."

"P—pay?" the teenage girl said. "But I didn't—I've only been here a week. They told me it was okay.

They said no one would bother us—"

I caught her in a binding spell and she went silent.

"Thank you," Kris said. "Now, as for the rest of you…"

"May I have them?" I said. "Please? Something new to play with."

"Wait," the old man said. "We didn't know. It was an honest mistake. No one told us—"

"No one should need to tell you."

I glided over to Kristof. "I don't need quite so many pets. Perhaps we should show them that the gods aren't the only ones who can be merciful." I smiled. "I'm sure they would be indebted to us for our mercy."

"Yes," the old man said quickly. "Very indebted. Let us go, and you'll never have to worry about us coming here again."

Kris looked him in the eye, making his own blaze with the glamour. "We'd better not."

"Or you'll wish you'd stayed with me," I said.

I undid the barrier spell as Kris waved it away.

"Now go," he said.

They bolted for the nearest wall. I grabbed Ted as he leapt to his feet.

"I'm not giving up all my toys," I said. "You, I'll keep." I smiled, showing my teeth. "First, I'll teach you how to play hide-and-seek… with your head."