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"I don't even think they tried to stop!" The bystander sounded horrified.

A crowd of ten to fifteen people began gathering, streaming out of the hotel doors and from the surrounding parking lot. No Supernaturals in the mix. Just humans and the dead girl. As I watched, she transitioned from translucent to opaque. Within moments, she appeared as real as anyone else.

I tightened my lips around a vape pen and studied the Light behind her. It was fading fast, but Dead Girl wouldn't go near it. She was too hung up on the vision of her own crumpled body. Smallish, curvy. Bishojo. Very beautiful. She would be perfection in a coffin. Poor thing.

At any rate, the hit-and-run wasn't my problem, other than leaving me without a John for the night. Bummer since I had taken off from the burlesque club to go out. I glanced at the canceled date on my phone and blew a cloud of vapor in the direction of the hotel. Time to bounce. As I turned to go, Dead Girl locked eyes with me. Shit, shit.

"Is this real?" she asked.

Ignore her. Act natural. Blend in. I tried, but she trailed me. Away from the goddamn Light.

"You can see me, right?"

"Go back, Dead Girl," I mumbled.

"I just walked through a car."

"You've gotta go before the Light fades completely."

She followed me another block through the French Quarter. At one corner, a garishly dressed man in a top hat directed vacationers lining up for ghost tours. I plugged in ear pods and ignored literally being haunted. She walked beside me, feet touching the ground but not making a hint of noise.

I could stroll aimlessly all night, rather than lead the Dead Girl to my place. I had rules about strays of any sort: No feeding them, no bringing them home. My need to fix things tended to remind me no good deed could go unpunished. Anyway, humanity was beyond redemption. I couldn't help her.

"I... I'm dead?" She was on the verge of hysteria. "I don't believe this. I always, ALWAYS played it safe. There's no way I should be dead at nineteen."

"Oof. That's tragic. My condolences."

"You honestly think I care for sarcasm right now?!"

Grimacing, I half-turned. "I'm sorry to sound callous, but—Yes, you're dead. Crying about it won't change it. Just catch that Light before it disappears, or you're stuck here in Overlay City. Trust me, you'd rather try Heaven."

I spread my arms to encompass our surroundings for emphasis. We had gone off the beaten path, where it wouldn't be unusual to find monsters or magic in this city. A shimmer of paranormal glinted wherever the light touched, and she didn't even want to know what was in the shadows.

A nearby drunk hooted, "I want to try heaven, girlfriend. I want whatever you're on."

I sucked my teeth. This conversation had to resemble me talking to thin air.

"What's Overlay City?" Dead Girl asked, sniffling up her overflow of emotions.

"Ley lines over New Orleans where Supernaturals like you can interact with the Real World, assuming you haven't missed your ticket out." I squinted at the scene a block back. Ambulance and cop cars, vampires drawn by the scent of blood. Naturally, the Light was gone. "Welp, you're stuck here, Dead Girl. Sorry," I muttered.

Drunk Guy tugged my dress. "Hey, what are you?" he asked. I recoiled. I was used to the question—being the Asian Mystery I am—but his breath smelled like the ass end of Bourbon Street. He leered at my face and body. I lowered my head, letting medium-length kurokami black hair hide my expression.

Dead Girl pieced together, "You're a medium, aren't you? And, I...I must have unfinished business! That's why you're helping me."

"Whoa! Let's dispel that myth. I never said I was helping you, and not all ghosts have unfinished business. Some just don't know when to let go."

"Girl or boy?" Drunk Guy persisted until his woozy attention was stolen by a commotion in the street.

Two biker gangs were squaring off to fight. A bruiser with a faint sheen of scales like a trick-of-the-light on his massive biceps shoved a leather-clad menace. That was my cue to leave. Before I dashed, one glance at the ghost told me she would freak when she saw the brawlers were bona fide fire and brimstone Demons and Dragons.

Panic was already radiating off her in waves. Emotions blossomed in my consciousness like watercolor inkblots spreading on a page—hers, the drunk guy's, the bikers'. I squeezed the bridge of my nose, wondering if I could abandon this girl without feeling colossal guilt later.

I was a loner. It kept my Empathy from getting the best of me. On the other hand, I knew what it was like to be lost, hopeless, and afraid in Overlay City. With the shoe on the other foot, I had been "rescued" by a pimp. This was no place for a naïve teenager.

I could take her with me. At least for tonight. Tomorrow, when she came to terms with her untimely demise, she would find her way home. But that was it. The extent of my generosity.

"Come with me, Dead Girl. It's not alright for us out here. F-Y-I, I can't talk to you in front of other people, especially sober people. Only Supers can see you now."

"Supers, as in Supernaturals?" she guessed.

"Exacto. Supernaturals aren't human."

"What about people like you? Mediums, psychics, people who see things others can't?"

I ignored her questions and jogged ahead, not in the mood for an interview. She fell in step beside me. She knew back alleys and side streets. She had to be a local, which made me like her a bit more, curse my bleeding heart.

A labyrinthine series of dark turns later, we strode through a wrought iron gate to a square dominated by a cathedral. The architectural monstrosity pierced the night sky with three spires like a holy trinity of ugly.

We followed a paved courtyard that curved around the grey brick building. Behind evergreen shrubs drenched in shadows was a hidden door. I said over my shoulder, "You can stay with me tonight, but be ready to find your unfinished business without me tomorrow, alright, Dead—?"

"Please don't call me that."

The catch in her voice made me stop and turn. Passing headlights from a car illuminated my face, and she got her first good look at me. I could tell by the way her eyes widened. Dropping my gaze, I bit my bottom lip and waited an eternity for her to stop staring.

"It's Aurie," she said softly. "My name is Aurie. What about you?"

"People call me Mys." I reached out to shake her hand but realized hers would go through mine. Her attention lingered on the butterfly tattoos on my wrists. Blue monarchs with bodies of scars. I hid my arms again.

"Nice to meet you, Mys," she said.

Color suffused my cheeks. I knew what usually came after people saw me in the light. "You can ask," I allowed.

She shifted her weight nervously. "Genderqueer, right?"

Something like that. I nodded. We were silent a beat until she flashed a smile. Then I breathed easier. No judgment. Good. I waved at the door to my basement apartment.

"You live in the church?" she asked in surprise.

Tapping the red brick paving stone with the heel of my stiletto, I said: "Hallowed Ground. For protection."

"Why do I sense you're not talking protection from urban crime?"

"I need to explain some things about Overlay City," I replied, thinking of what lurked in the night. "Let's get inside first."

"I don't know. I should try to find my way home." Aurie got sudden jitters.

I huffed in annoyance. "Wander the city if you want, but the thing is...being dead won't protect you here."