Mysteria Nights

dressed at 7:45 a.m.; the other two girls were in the shorts and T-shirt sets they used as pajamas.

“Yes, what are you?” Scornful asked. “You look like Pot . . . she’s the lady who used to—”

“She is my queen. I am her subject.”

“River nymph!” Derisive said, snapping her fingers and pointing at him.

“Just so. And I require an exorcist, please. I was told you three might help.” Jan frowned, the expression much more dour than it could be on a human face. “I was also told you are the same age.”

“Technically, we are,” Derisive said.

“But it’s a long story,” Scornful added.

“Actually, it’s not,” Derisive said, “but who cares? What’s the exorcist for?”

“A haunted house. But perhaps the three of you could handle the task. I was told your power as triplets —”

“Is no longer a resource to be tapped,” Withering said.

Scornful turned to her tall sister. “Yeah? And why is that? Did you forget the spells? Because we can get you books and stuff.”

“I did not forget. I merely submerged my share of our magic into my fighting skills, an essential component to my survival. As such, I am faster and stronger than most; I also heal from wounds very quickly.”

“So, you made yourself bionic?” Scornful snorted.

“I did what I had to,” Withering said simply, “to live.”

The two girls were, shockingly, shamed into silence. It was only temporary, though. “I think we can help you,” Derisive said. She turned to her younger sister. “The new guy? Not Thad, the other new guy.”

“The witch doctor?”

“You’re only assuming that because he’s Jamaican.”

“Yeah, but he might—”

“He might.”

“So we should—”

“We should.”

“What my sisters are saying,” Withering explained to an increasingly bewildered Jan, “is that we may be able to assist you. If you will come with us, please?”

“This has nothing to do with you, gigantic big sister.”

“This woman will see the girls safe.”

“Oh, barf,” Scornful said, stomping toward her bedroom to get dressed.

Fourteen

The witch doctor shook various homemade implements at various appliances in the kitchen. He had multiple piercings (including four gold rings in each eyebrow), but was dressed in street clothes and carried a blue backpack, from which he pulled various odd things.

He refused to tell them his name, so Scornful christened him Dr. Demento. As in, “Hey, Dr. Demento! You gonna keep shaking stuff at the toaster, or are we actually going to get to work, here?”

“Dis house, she’s evil, mahn.”

“Evil, my big butt,” the ghost said out of nowhere. The two younger girls jumped; Withering had her knife in her hand by the word my. The witch doctor shook harder. “You realize, I only let you idiots in because nobody’s home, and I’m bored out of my tits. Right?”

“Now, Rae,” Jan said in his bubbling, oddly soothing voice, “just cooperate, and soon your essence will be set free.”

“Sounds nauseating. I think I’ll stay put.”

Dr. Demento reached into his backpack and withdrew a second mysterious object (a good trick, with the backpack strapped behind him as it was), and shook both at the fridge.

“I can’t believe we’ve never been here before,” Scornful whispered to her younger sister.

“I heard that, you little brat. And you don’t have to get your perky little noses into everything in this town.”

“You do not belong here, ghost,” Withering said, the knife point never wavering. “Begone at once.”

“Look who’s talking! Don’t you have a demonic realm to be ruling? Instead, you’re nosing around in my house and poking around in my business.”

“How did you—”

“Ha! The whole damned town is talking about it, that’s how I knew.”

“Then if this woman may so inquire, what is it like to be displaced?”

“If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t be here, get it? So buzz off, and take the witch doctor with you. Better than him have tried and failed.”

Jan protested as Withering sheathed her knife. “But he will set you free, Rae!”

“Aw, that’s super. No sale.”

“Hey, Dr. Demento. Can I shake something at the television?” Scornful tried to get at his backpack, but he whirled and backed away from her, still shaking various homemade tools. “Aw, come on. How come you get to have all the fun?”

“You call this fun?” Rae grumped. “Will you people get lost before the fridge accidentally falls on one of you? Two or three times?”

“Yeesh,” Derisive said.

“You say it’s been tried before? Was that John Harding, by any chance?”

“Sure.”

“But he was alive when you were alive. The way I heard it, his heart wasn’t in it, and that’s why he couldn’t banish you. Dr. Demento here doesn’t care how you got here or where you go.”

“Jan, you got a lot of nerve, bringing the psycho triplets and a witch doctor—a witch doctor of all things!—into this house.”

“But Rae, I wish only to—”

“—be an enormous pain in my ass. At which you’re succeeding beautifully.”

“There is little we can do here,” Withering told her sisters. “I suggest we take our leave.”

“And take Dr. Demento with you!” Rae called.

“No.” Jan actually stomped his foot, which squished. “He will set you free, and you will no longer be imprisoned.”

The refrigerator slid all the way across the room, the yanked plug trailing behind it like a tail.

“We’re out of here,” the younger girls said in unison as Withering grabbed the witch doctor by the elbow and started hauling him toward the front door.

“I’d vamoose, too, if I were you, River Nymph.”

“That’s good advice from the kid,” Rae warned. “Whichever one it was.”

“Thank you,” Jan called as all four made their way to the doorway, “for your assistance.”

“Yeah, and next time, take your damned shoes off in the entryway!” Rae hollered as the front door slammed.

Fifteen

“You tried to get rid of me!”

Jan ducked as the toaster sailed over his head. “It was my dearest wish to see you free, yes.”

“Tossing me like a dead Easter chick!” The small board that normally held car keys soared toward him; he backpedaled on his long feet and handily avoided it.