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“Now, what could she possibly do to make this night unpleasant?” Killian asked.
I sat up and took a flask out of my drawer. It was 9AM somewhere and I was feeling like I was ready to be a morning drinker. I poured a healthy slug into my coffee cup. “She runs a haunted house,” I said.
“Oh,” said Killian confused. “That seems... I thought...”
See, my mom, in addition to being a psychic, runs a psychic-eye tea shop. She also has the gift of the gab when it comes to conversing with the dearly departed. She specializes in crossing people over who’ve gotten stuck. And she gets cranky when the dead are used for entertainment purposes.
“Yeah. On this particular night, it’s an open house for all the spirits on this side of the border... any border... to come hang out at the MacKay house.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“And you hate ghosts.”
“I FUCKING HATE GHOSTS!”
I fucking hate ghosts. I’m not an unreasonable person. I'm a tracker. I deal with the living and the undead. Mom deals with the dead-dead. But the dead-dead didn't get the memo that I can't hear them, so as a kid, they would show up unannounced any moment of the day or night, just itchin' for a chat. I had a hell of a time explaining to my first boyfriend it wasn't his kissin' that was making me cold, it was the ghost who decided to slip into his skin and replace his face. Made my heart go from pitter-pat straight into cardiac arrest.
So, Mom throws these shindigs each year for all the ghosts to pop on by and pass along any messages they feel are important to get through. It's a great big family affair. Whoopdittydoo. The highlight of the evening is a mass-crossing when the veil is the thinnest for anyone feeling like they're finally ready for that eternal nap. I was feeling like I could use that nap.
"Such an interesting holiday," said Killian, sticking a cherry lollipop in one cheek. "The humans and their gifts of candy for everyone! What a celebration!"
I looked at him with disbelief. "Have you ever actually experienced Earth Halloween, Killian?" I asked.
"No," he replied. "My people celebrate the passing of the autumn season and the beginning of winter days. We look on our bountiful harvest—"
"—your people shop at grocery stores. They don't harvest, Killian."
"Ahem," he said, glaring at me. "We look at all the goods we have purchased from the Other Side grocery stores and count our blessings for the ease of our bounty when once hunger plagued us."
"Go on."
"Then we leave out treats for our fellow faerie friends who do not have the opportunity to shop at Other Side grocery stores."
"Oh! Is that why they're SO less pissy come November?"
"Someone has to remember the old ways..."
I tipped my hat to him. There is nothing as miserable as waking up because some doxy has spent the night knotting your hair to the bedpost.
"So never dealt with the human version of the holiday have you?" I asked.
Killian shook his head and shifted his lollipop to the other side of his mouth. "No."
I smiled. "Oh Killian, you are most assuredly in for a real treat tonight."