In the stinging rain, I squinted after the fading taillights of the Uber car and wondered if this was it. Was I losing Kittie Cad for good?

Kris had been my first boyfriend. We went to the same church. When I was fourteen years old, my parents had given grudging approval for us to start seeing each other. It wasn't that my heart kicked for the gangly kid I had known for ages, but because he had an X-Box, and his mom didn't mind us playing hours on end.

At my place, my folks enforced the "no video games, no music, no television" rule. Above all, I couldn't have boys in my room. They had no idea how different things were at Kris' apartment.

There, I was allowed to ditch my dresses and try on his jeans. Of course, his mom didn't know he tried on my clothes, too. She was the Pentecostal church choir director, homophobic enough to just be happy her son had a "friend-girl" rather than worry about what we did behind closed doors.

Now, as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk in the pouring rain, I remembered being juniors in high school. Trying on his Prom tuxedo, checking my reflection in the mirror while he posed in my bra. "Let's get married when we grow up," I had suggested.

"Nah, it's not going down like that," said Kris as he smoothed his slender hands over his low-cut fade. His lips were glossy from the Carmex my mother let me keep. "When we get out of this hellhole, you're going to Hollywood, and I'm finding Mr. Right."

Although I had never made it to Hollywood, it seemed Kittie Cad had found her Mister. Now, for the first time, our lives were diverging. Sadness blanketed me at the thought of letting her go, but I had to do it. The mayor's official contact info was online. I would call him and let him know Kittie deserved his love and trust.

After that, I would finish this business with Aurie and Zyr and get back to enjoying my solitude. It occurred to me I had never truly been alone. But with Kittie washing her hands of me, I would be, once the ghost and her detective were out of my life. That was what I wanted, right?

Dashing the rain from my face, I went back through the gate and returned to my apartment, and the mounting despondency arrested as relief washed over me. Aurie was huddled by my door watching me. Raindrops glistened in her wavy hair and beaded on her clothes and skin like jewels. She lifted and wriggled her fingers, a shaky smile flitting over her lips.

"Don't ever disappear on me like that again!" I rushed to her and pulled her into crushing hug.

Aurie laughed. "I told you I'd be back. By the way, you look like you're hugging the air to anyone who isn't Supernatural." She tiptoed to peer over my shoulder as I let her go. "There's Zyr."

I looked, too. Sure enough, the Dodge was pulling up across the street. I studied the woman in the truck with the detective and wondered why he brought along his partner. Was Tegan the reason he hadn't answered his phone all morning? Zyr hopped from the driver's seat and jogged to the passenger side to hand the redhead his keys. I overheard him tell her, "Take it back to my townhouse."

"What about the case file?" she asked.

He glanced at the sky as he shoved a thick folder under his shirt. "I'll hold onto this, but I'll meet you later to discuss things." He seemed in a hurry.

As Tegan slid from the truck, her body rubbed suggestively against his. The contact was brief. Short-lived or not, her craving was an orange-yellow flicker spreading across my Empathy. I was somewhat glad a passing car sent up a cold splash to dampen her desires, though the water barely touched her feet.

"Come on. Let's get inside," I said to Aurie.

The ghost hiked a thumb in their direction. "What's up with the chick? She's kind of familiar."

"She's just his partner."

I wasn't sure I sounded convincing, but I wasn't sure I was convinced. Zyr rounded the cathedral and slid to a halt at the sight of Aurie already back. I ignored him and opened the door to my apartment. Once inside, my roommate plopped in our favorite chair. It felt so good to see her that I didn't bother telling myself she didn't belong.

The detective slowly closed the door behind us. "Why didn't you call me and let me know she was home safe?" he asked. His black hair was plastered to his forehead by the rain. He kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his wet shirt, bare skin glistening.

I looked away with a moody shrug.

Zyr turned to Aurie, but she held up a hand and said: "Chill, bruh."

"Oh, I should chill?" His eyebrows shot skyward. "You ran off and put yourself and everyone else in danger in the middle of a tropical storm."

"I didn't put anyone in danger," she muttered. "I took a stroll, which shouldn't be a problem if I'm not a prisoner."

"No one's treating you like a prisoner, Aurie!" Zyr yelled.

"More like a pawn in your chess match!" Aurie retorted. "You know what, I don't even know why I came back. You both seem to think you can run my Afterlife without me anyway!"

She lurched from the chair and tossed the voodoo loa's crumpled business card on the coffee table. Staring at it, I slid my vape pen from my pocket and perched on the lone barstool. There was no easy way to explain it. Vapor floated in the uncomfortable silence while she glared at me, and the rain poured steadily in the background. The detective dropped to the sofa, studying me, too.

"I was gonna tell you, but you didn't give me the chance," I said finally.

Aurie paced into my line of sight and jabbed a finger at the card. "You kept that from me, knowing it was my one shot at Resurrection."

"Aurie, it's not like that." She pulled away when I reached for her. I threw up my hands. "I had to make sure it was safe, and I was right to be concerned! The priestess told me someone will have to die for you to live again. Is that what you want, Yokai?" I asked.

"No, of course, that's not what I want! I want my own flesh and blood. If I'm resurrected into someone else's body, I basically inherit their life and say goodbye to my own. No more Haley. No house in the Garden District. No Aurie Edison." She raised glistening eyes to mine. "But it was for me to find out, not you, Mys."

Clearing his throat, the detective interjected, "I understand you're upset, honey. I'd be lying if I said I disagree with what Mys did. It's not that we think we can run things without you; but it's our job to protect you, even from yourself. More than that, you're our friend, Aurie. We care too much to let anything happen to you."

"I know about caring too much...enough to make sacrifices," she whispered, and a frisson of fear shot through me. What sacrifice? "I found out Darcy wants a courtesan. In exchange, he'll take care of my friends and family, including the both of you. That's why I have to do this."

"What?" Zyr and I said in conjunction. No way she was serious.

"It's pretty much like being an escort." She crossed her arms and lifted her chin.

"No, there's a reason I did burlesque on the side," I countered. "I took care of myself. No one should get that much authority over your life, Yokai."

"I have no life, remember? It's over, like your side-gig is over. Beaucoup de Chair has been shut down for weeks. That's the real reason you've been taking a breather, right?"

"How did you—?"

"Darcy told me. He has the deed, and the club will be yours the minute I become his," Aurie said without enthusiasm. "He's gonna use his connections to expand my mother's reach in Hollywood, and he'll make sure Haley's career picks back up when she gets out."

Zyr gaped at her. "You told him about Haley?"

"Of course, not. He has no idea she's in a psych ward. He thinks she's at Bayou General, somehow injured the night I was killed...which is how I know he wasn't behind the hit-and-run." She studied the detective's confused frown. "He told me about your job, too. I know you got suspended today, and you're under investigation. Darcy can make all that go away if I agree to this Resurrection.

"Look, I know he's a bad person," she said quietly, "but these are good things. Whatever else happens, the people I love will be better off. He has a body for me, someone who no longer wanted to live and unfortunately suffered lasting brain damage. See?"

Aurie removed a photograph from the back pocket of her jeans and dropped it on the coffee table like we were talking about a potential new car or a piece of furniture, instead of an actual human being.

Detective Zyr released a strangled swear. "Since we're playing show-and-tell, let me show you how Darcy treats his women." He snatched the envelope from the floor by his wet shirt and tossed it on the coffee table next to the photograph. More pictures of the vampire's victims fell out. Dozens of them.