Doc shot the ghost a look. ‘We call him Mal. That’s what he likes.’
Fi shot the look back but stayed silent. Something wasn’t right.
‘Regardless,’ Chrysabelle continued. ‘I … we don’t need to suffer too. If money is a concern, I’m willing to help out.’
Fi laughed. ‘With what?’
‘Where’s the bag I brought with me?’ Chrysabelle asked Doc.
‘Should still be in Mal’s office,’ Doc answered.
‘All right, I’ll just be a moment.’ She pushed her chair back.
‘Where do you think you’re going? We’re supposed to watch you.’ Fi’s indignant look made Chrysabelle stifle a laugh. She had to give Fi points for trying.
‘What are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?’ She slanted her eyes at Doc. ‘You’re not much older, are you? I don’t need children minding me.’ She strolled toward the door, hiding her slight limp as much as possible. Her broken foot already felt better than it had when she’d woken up.
‘Children?’ Fi scoffed. ‘Pot meet kettle.’
Chrysabelle paused. ‘I am one hundred fifteen years old.’ She flicked a glanced at Doc and tried not to smile. ‘That’s in human years.’
Doc jumped up and grabbed her arm. ‘I’ll get your bag. Wouldn’t want you wearing out those old bones.’
She tugged her arm out of his grasp and forced down the surge of fighting instinct that had arisen at his touch. She had to stop reacting like that. Humans touched each other. She had to get used to it. ‘That would be nice of you.’
Thankfully, Fi kept quiet. Maybe she sensed Chrysabelle’s struggle.
Chrysabelle went back to her place and sat down. The food barely registered on the scale of what she was used to. Comarré ate well. The best foods made for the best-tasting blood. But that was her old life, this was her new.
She spun the noodles around her fork and took a bite. Jarred sauce. No meat except what had been used to flavor it. Fi wolfed hers down like it was foie gras. ‘You really like spaghetti, huh?’
Fi swallowed her current mouthful. ‘I like everything. Ghosts don’t really get to eat, you know? Since I became alive again, I just want to eat everything. We had the best tuna melts yesterday. Doc loves tuna. Guess it’s a cat thing.’ She stuffed another forkful in.
‘What do you mean, alive again?’
‘Since I got your blood. I don’t even have to think about staying corporeal, I just am. Used to be I had to work at it, think about it, you know?’ She shrugged. ‘I haven’t been in my spirit form since.’
Warning bells clanged in Chrysabelle’s brain. ‘Have you tried?’
Fi didn’t bother swallowing this time. ‘Nope.’
‘Could you try now?’
‘You’re a fat pain in the ectoplasm, you know that?’ Fi smirked, took a long drink of water, then closed her eyes. A moment later, she opened them. ‘Did I go fuzzy?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’ Fi’s eyes sparkled. ‘Wait, let me try again.’ Another interlude of eyes opening and closing. ‘Well?’
‘Not even a flicker.’
‘Wow! This is awesome. I really am alive again. I can’t wait to tell my parents!’ Her fingers strayed to the back of her right ear. ‘I wonder if my com cell still works.’
Chrysabelle leaned back slightly. ‘I don’t think telling your parents is such a hot idea and I wouldn’t let Mal know if your com cell does work. He might make you take it out.’
‘Why shouldn’t I tell them?’ Fi’s nose wrinkled. ‘And why would Mal make me—’
‘Tell who what? What about Mal?’ Doc walked in carrying Chrysabelle’s bag. He set it beside her chair, then retook his. ‘What did I miss?’
Chrysabelle pulled her bag onto her lap. ‘I was saying Fi shouldn’t tell her parents she’s alive again because it might not be permanent, and if her com cell works, she probably shouldn’t mention it. You know how othernaturals are about that stuff.’ None of them, vampire, fae, or varcolai, used the devices. The tracking potential was too great.
Fi’s hand came away from her ear. ‘Doesn’t work anyway.’ She turned to Doc. ‘I’m not a ghost anymore.’
‘I know. I hung with your unghosty self all day yesterday.’ He gave her a wink and picked up his fork.
Chrysabelle pressed her thumb to the bag’s scanlock. It recognized her and clicked open. She checked through it. Everything was there.
Fi kept talking. ‘No, I mean like not at all. I’m completely alive again. I can’t become a ghost even if I try. Which I just did. Twice.’
Chrysabelle pulled out a fat velvet pouch and removed one of the jewels.
Doc put his fork down. ‘How? You sure?’
‘Totally sure.’ Fi tipped her head at Chrysabelle. ‘Her blood.’
His brows rose. ‘Wow. Cool.’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Here you are.’ Chrysabelle slid the gem across the table to Doc. ‘Sell that for whatever you can get and then fill the larders. I’d love steak for dinner tomorrow. Get everything you like. Lots of produce, fresh vegetables, and meat. Lots of meat. Organic when you can. Game hens, steaks, lots of steaks – Kobe if you can get it, wild salmon – none of that cloned stuff either.’