“I think you’re possessed.” “Old news.” “Huh. Anyone I know?” “My dad. It’s a family issue I’m working on.”

“Listen,” I said, cool as a 911 operator talking someone down from a ledge, “you’re dead. I’m sorry about that, but I am not going to let you possess me. So follow the light, or go to the other side, or hang around your own house and haunt your accounting ledgers or something. You do not get to stay in my head.”

“My voice rose up and up with each question, even though I didn’t want it to. It’s called panic. I’m good at it.”

“It’s not a damn death wish. I just know how much my pain is worth.”

“What the hell?” I muttered. Then I realized it was Jack Quinn’s car. Jack was a Hound and Bea’s boyfriend. The left blinker flashed on for just a second, and then Jack drove at speed again.“Zayvion, I’m sorry to tell you I think I have a crush on another man.”“Who is this unfortunate and soon-to-be-dead fool?” he asked.“Jack. That’s his car. He must have been waiting for us, or maybe he followed us.”“Jack Quinn has been following us?” Shame said.“And now he’s taking us to Collins, I think.”“Or a trap,” Shame said.“He’s a Hound, Shame.”“My statement stands.”“You still don’t get it, do you?” I turned left, following the car. “Hounds are loyal. Jack and Bea told me they’d help me if they could. They’re not going to turn against me while I’m in trouble.”“What happens when you’re not in trouble?” Shame asked.“Don’t know. It’s never happened.”

“We’re a lot alike that way. You know I never back down from a challenge.” He reached over, brushed my hair back, and tucked it behind my ear. “Not the safest way to go through life.” “Maybe not. But it’s my way.”

“Since I didn't have a spork handy, I leaned over the sink and scooped up a palmful of cold water and pressed it against my face. There had to be a better option than a violent sporking. There had to be a way to get rid of my dad.”