Shimmer (Riley Bloom #2)(2)

3


I curled into a ball, pressed my nose against my knees, and covered my face as I waited for the impact.

Waited for the push of those paws, the bite of those razor-sharp teeth, the heat of that ominous gaze to sear straight into the heart of me.

But nothing came.

And, really, why would it when there was one major thing saving me from his attack?

One major thing saving me from any attack.

One major thing that I still hadn’t grown used to—or at least not when I was in the middle of being scared witless.

The fact that I was dead.

Dead as a doornail.

Dead and buried.

Dead as … well, pretty much as dead as it gets.

The irony being that while I may have felt more alive than ever, the truth was that my physical body had died just over a year ago. Leaving me with this new, light and filmy, somewhat translucent version that looked an awful lot like the original, gravity-bound version, except for the fact that things could easily pass through me now, whereas they couldn’t before.

Things like oversize hellhounds with matted black fur and deep menacing growls, for instance.

And, as luck would have it, I’d failed to remember any of that until Bodhi had already caught up with me.

Or, rather, make that Bodhi and Buttercup, my sweet yellow Lab, who’s not only known me for almost all of my life, but who died in the car accident right alongside me, which, all things considered, you’d think would result in some serious loyalty.

But noooo.

There were no loyalties where Buttercup was concerned. He was all too eager to sniff and lick the fingers of just about anyone willing to pet him, feed him, or play fetch with him—including my ghost guide Bodhi. And as Bodhi laughed himself silly at the way I cowered on the sand, all coiled up into my own tiny, blond, ghost-girl ball of fear, Buttercup barked and drooled and tail-wagged happily beside him, carrying on in a way that seriously made me rethink my loyalty to him, and pretty much had me hating Bodhi as much as I did the first time we met.

The first time he pushed me (literally!) into that awful room, where I was forced to undergo a super-embarrassing, completely agonizing life review.

A super-embarrassing, completely agonizing life review where I discovered that my whole entire existence, my brief twelve years on the earth plane, had amounted to little more than a joke—and that the joke was on me.

The whole thing had been a wash.

A waste.

A decade-long exercise in trying to emulate my older sister, Ever, in hopes of being just like her.

Only to result in some seriously ridiculous, seriously bratty, seriously stalkinglike behavior that, in the end, was pretty much impossible to defend.

A super-embarrassing, completely agonizing life review presided over by various members of the Council, who informed me that based on the amount of time I’d lingered on the earth plane—stubbornly refusing to cross the bridge to the Here & Now in order to stay behind and spy on my sister, celebrities, former teachers, and friends (along with anyone else who might prove interesting but was otherwise unsuspecting)—I had a job to fulfill, one where I was expected to “coax and convince” lingering spirits to cross the bridge to their new home, acting as a Soul Catcher, if you will. And even worse, I’d also been assigned a guide/teacher/coach/counselor/boss (or at least that’s how Bodhi likes to describe himself), who I was expected not only to answer to, but maybe even learn from.

Despite the fact that he no longer dressed like the big dork he did then, despite the fact that he’d swapped the nerd wear for some much cooler clothes, despite the fact that he’d let his hair go all shaggy and loose to the point where it curved down into his face in that cool guy, slightly windswept, effortless way, despite the fact that every time I looked into his brilliant blue eyes I was totally reminded of the Zac Efron poster that used to hang on my old bedroom wall, it still didn’t make it okay for him to laugh at me the way he did.

I continued to lie there, every single part of me just wishing he’d stop and move on already. But when it became clear that he wouldn’t, when it became clear that he was trying to calm down just enough, to catch his breath just enough, so that he could make the switch from laughing at me to making fun of me verbally, I jumped to my feet. I straightened my white cotton dress that, in my haste, had gotten all twisted around, tugged on the straps of the pink and turquoise swimsuit I wore underneath, and glared at him as I said, “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” I shook my head and scowled, first at him, then at Buttercup who promptly lowered his head, tucked his tail between his legs, and gazed up at me with those big brown eyes that were impossible to resist. “But I’m telling you, if you’d seen what I’d seen … well…” I shook my head and made my mouth go all tight and grim, forcing the words between gritted teeth, “I know for a fact you would’ve screamed too.”

I was ready for a fight, ready for some more of that not entirely good-natured ribbing, when instead he just placed his hand on my shoulder and peered at me in this highly serious way that he had.

“I did scream.” His gaze locked on mine. “But instead of the stop, drop, and roll action that you just did, I ran like the wind.”

I narrowed my eyes and shrugged myself out from under his grip. Not quite sure what he was getting at, and still not convinced he wasn’t trying to poke a little fun at my expense.