Lost Souls (Cainsville 3.6)

Patrick checked his phone. Nothing. As he glanced up, he caught movement over by the mausoleum. A flash of white, like the flip of a dress as someone fled.

He jogged over to the mausoleum.

"Woooo," a voice whispered from the other side. "Woooo." Then there was a giggle. A drunken giggle.

Patrick grumbled under his breath and turned to stalk off.

"Woooo!" More giggling, followed by a snicker.

All right, if these kids wanted to play ghost, he'd show them how it was done. Give them a fright to send them fleeing so he could concentrate on finding Olivia.

"Woooo!"

Yeah, yeah. He walked to the mausoleum. Reached up. Sighed when his fingertips fell a few inches short of the edge. A quick look around before he shed his glamour. An easy scramble up the wall. Then he kept his true form as he crept to the other side, where he could hear the girl snickering. He glanced over the side and--

A girl leaped at him, her face a mask of blood, cheek torn and flapping.

Patrick let out a yelp. More like a squeal, but he was sticking with the less humiliating "yelp."

As he fell back on the roof, another figure swung up onto the roof. A familiar figure, grinning a familiar grin...until she saw him and let out a yelp of her own.

"Holy shit," Liv said, scrambling back. "Patrick?

He glowered at her. "Who else?"

That's when he remembered he wasn't wearing a glamour. He cast his as fast as he could.

"Thank you," Liv said. "That is one creepy glamour."

"It's not--" He bit off the protest and settled for a deeper scowl.

"Wait?

Is that your real look? Freaky green spider monkey?"

"Monkey? Did you see fur? No. It's not--"

"Olivia?" a girl's voice called.

"Hold on. Just helping my friend here recover from his heart attack." Liv crawled over and looked down. "Your death mask is awesome, by the way."

Patrick moved to the edge as Liv lowered herself beside...Christina Moore. Wearing a sunny dress and a sunny smile and no trace of blood or gore.

"Sorry if we spooked you," Christina said as Patrick climbed down.

"Totally my idea," Liv said. "That's Chrissy's death mask--her face at the moment of her death."

Patrick glared at Liv. "So while I've been searching in an absolute panic, you've been making friends with a murderous spirit."

"Panic?" Liv snorted. "You were enjoying a leisurely stroll among the tombstones. And none of the dead are Chrissy's fault. Seems she's been the victim of afterlife identity theft. Someone--something--stole her likeness and her backstory and trapped her here while the imposter goes all deadly phantom hitchhiker."

"Imposter?"

"Fae, I'm guessing. I hate to jump to that conclusion, but if it's a nasty-ass prank, it's gotta be fae. Do you know of any--?"

"We need to get to Gabriel. Now."

TWENTY-FOUR