Guild Boss (Ghost Hunters #14)
Jayne Castle
For Otis: A star is born!
(Okay, so stardom is fleeting.
Don’t worry, there will always be pizza.)
And for my wonderful editor, Cindy Hwang, a true star.
It is a joy and an honor to work with you.
A NOTE FROM JAYNE
Welcome back to my Jayne Castle world—Harmony. You’re invited to join me on another adventure in Illusion Town. This is Las Vegas on Harmony but way more weird. The local slogan says it all: The thrills are real.
Turns out the glitzy town sits right on top of the latest Underworld discovery: the mysterious, legendary ruins known as the Ghost City. The eerie, long-dead metropolis is awash in violent paranormal energy, making exploration and mining extremely hazardous. Oh, and the long-lost museum of the Arcane Society known as the Midnight Carnival has recently been found in the tunnels below the Shadow Zone.
Illusion Town is filled with mysteries and dangers, but, as usual, the real trouble is caused by humans.
CHAPTER ONE
The Lord of the Underworld showed up with the dust bunny and a pizza.
Lucy Bell decided she was probably hallucinating again. She ignored the figure looming in the arched doorway and focused on the dust bunny.
“Right on time, Otis,” she said. “I’m hungry.”
The dust bunny chortled a greeting and bounced across the glowing green quartz floor. He stopped in front of the massive quartz throne where she lounged, the black skirts of her bridesmaid dress draped over one arm of the grand chair.
She leaned down and scooped him up. Clutching his warm, fluffy body steadied her nerves and her senses. Otis, at least, was real. She risked another glance at the doorway. The Lord of the Underworld was still there. He was the one with the pizza box. Usually Otis carried it in two of his six paws.
“Hades, I presume?” she said, going for cool and polite. She had discovered the hard way that strong emotions tended to exaggerate the visions, making them more intense.
Hades held out the pizza box and smiled a slow, satisfied smile. “I’ve been looking for you, Persephone.”
“Why?” she asked, deeply suspicious. “I’m already in hell.”
“I’m here to take you back to the surface.”
“Is that right?” You had to be skeptical when it came to hallucinations. The brain was easily deceived by the heavy paranormal atmosphere in the Underworld. Best to run a test. “Let me have a slice of pizza first.”
Hades raised the lid of the pizza box. “Looks like cheese and olive.”
“My favorite. Mostly because that’s the only kind Otis delivers.”
“The small size, I’m afraid.”
“That’s probably because Otis can’t carry the large size. He’s small, too.”
She sat up, plopped Otis on her shoulder, and rose from the quartz throne. The skirts of the long black gown fell to her bare feet.
Hades walked toward her and stopped a short distance away. She sensed he was wary of alarming her. He was treating her like a wild creature that he did not want to scare off.
He held out the pizza box. She glanced at the label. OLLIE’S HOUSE OF PIZZA. ALL FOUR FOOD GROUPS IN EACH DELICIOUS BITE. That was reassuring. Everyone in the Dark Zone agreed that Ollie’s was the finest pizzeria in the neighborhood.
“Help yourself, Ms. Bell,” Hades said.
Cautiously, half expecting the Lord of the Underworld and the pizza to vanish at any second, she reached into the box and picked up a slice. She took a bite. The tang of cheese and olives and Ollie’s unique tomato sauce hit her senses.
She took another slice of pizza out of the box and gave it to Otis, who accepted it with his usual enthusiasm. He gripped it in one paw and went to work, devouring it in quick, efficient bites.
“Okay, the pizza is real,” Lucy said.
“You’re lucky the whole pizza made it all the way to this chamber,” Hades said. “There were several times along the way that I thought seriously of helping myself to a slice. By the way, I’m real, too. Gabriel Jones. Guild security.”
His voice was rich and resonant, not at all like the ghostly howls of the apparitions that blocked the entrance of the quartz chamber every time she tried to leave.
Close up, Jones certainly looked like a Guild man. He wore boots and a lot of khaki and leather. He carried a flamer on his gear belt and an impressive knife, the only weapons that worked in a reliable manner in the heavy paranormal atmosphere of the Underworld. And then there was the amber. It was embedded in the buckle of his belt, in his Guild signet ring, and in the knot of the leather cord he wore around his neck. She knew there was probably more hidden in the heels of his boots.
If he was the real thing, the amber would be tuned. You couldn’t navigate the Dead City and the maze of underground tunnels the long-vanished Aliens had left behind without tuned navigation amber. The members of the Ghost Hunters Guilds, the monopolistic organizations that handled security in the Underworld, were obsessive when it came to nav amber.
She was obsessive about it, too, because most of her work was done belowground. She never went anywhere without at least a few pieces on her person. She had worn a tuned amber bracelet, tuned amber earrings, and a dainty ankle chain of tuned amber with her black gown. She would have worn an amber necklace as well, but the bride had insisted that all the bridesmaids wear the black crystal necklaces she had given them.