Harley Merlin 12

the ass, the creatures didn’t drag me down, I put out all the fires, and I trudged through that damn swimming pool to the other side!”
Melody gasped. “You did it?! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to tell you together so I could enjoy double the admiration.” I grinned at her.
“Oh… but my parents. They’re really eager to meet you. It’s not often we get a celebrity in San Jose.” Melody floundered. “You don’t want to go straight to Erebus, do you? Please, it won’t take long. They just want to have dinner with you, and then we can go.”
“Dinner sounds good to me. I’ve been in my head for at least fourteen hours today. I could use some grub.” I didn’t want to disappoint her. She was impossible to say no to, with that adorable cherub face. “Which brings me to my next point: Why didn’t someone check on me? Anyone would think you didn’t care.” I pretended to pout.
Melody frowned. “Mary kept me informed. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No, she didn’t. Then again, I didn’t ask.”
“She’s a good egg.” Melody smiled. “She would’ve told me if something bad had happened. Especially as she seems rather taken with you.”
“Wouldn’t that be a reason not to tell you if something bad had happened?” I replied.
“No! She’s not like that. She’d never wish death on someone, after what she’s been through,” Melody scolded. “Besides, she’s fond of a few of the men here, and they’re all still alive. My dad is one of them. My mom has taken Mary aside a few times, to tell her to stop flirting with him. And it’s not easy to take a ghost aside when they disappear through walls whenever they want.”
I grinned. “See, you’re perfect at landing punchlines.”
Melody beamed. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep my parents waiting—and we shouldn’t keep you from eating after what you’ve achieved today, Finch. I’d say you definitely deserve a little celebration.”
She led the way, since I was clueless about navigating this place. We headed downstairs to a country-style kitchen with a big wooden table. Two people were already sitting with half-empty glasses of wine. They looked up as we entered, before rising to greet us.
“The famous Finch Merlin!” The woman came right over and pulled me into a hug. I froze, unsure what to do with my hands. So I just let them hang limp at my sides.
“Most folks go with ‘infamous,’” I joked as she pulled away.
“Nonsense. We’ve heard all about you, and I’d say you’ve done more good than bad recently. Isn’t that right, darling?” She glanced at her husband.
He nodded. “Oh yes.”
“This is my mom, Cecily, and this is my dad, Richard.” Melody gestured to them in turn.
Cecily was a striking woman of almost six feet, with a willowy frame and silky black hair coiled in an elegant bun. Melody looked a lot like her. She had the same big eyes, though she wasn’t tall like her mother. Richard was a well-groomed man in his mid-forties, with a full head of brown hair and a stocky build that couldn’t have been more opposite to his wife’s.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. Richard had a firm handshake, which reminded me of my first meeting with Melody. She’d told me her dad always said you could tell a lot by a person’s handshake, so I made it the firmest damn handshake I’d ever given in my life.
“Let’s have a toast, shall we?” Cecily declared.
“Be rude not to, after we hauled six boxes of wine all the way back from Germany,” Richard replied, with a weary roll of his eyes. “Melody’s mother can’t resist a Riesling.”
“I really can’t.” Cecily ushered us to the table and poured wine for Luke and me, while Richard poured something fruity and fizzy for Melody.
I took a tentative sip, letting it slip down my throat to warm my empty stomach. A surefire recipe for disaster. “You’ve been in Germany?”
“Mmm, yes. We had business in Berlin,” Cecily replied. “There’s a German ghost here who wants to cross over, but he can’t until he finds out what happened to his family. Seeing as he died such a long time ago, it took some digging.”
“I had my spade out and everythin’.” Richard chuckled, sipping his wine. His Southern accent made me want to instantly warm to him, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was because of Blanche, maybe it was something else, but I felt oddly detached from the situation. Even the wine didn’t help to loosen me up.
“You’ll make Finch think we’re body-snatchers, talking like that,” Cecily chided, giving him a despairing look.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Who says we aren’t?”
“Do you do that a lot, then?” I thought of Mary, who couldn’t give up this existence just yet.
“It keeps things interestin’. Be no good just sittin’ here, twiddlin’ our thumbs,” Richard replied. “The business takes care of itself, so we do what we can to keep the specters happy. Wouldn’t do, being the only Winchester to abandon the family promise.”
I frowned. “The business?”
“This here house is the business.” Richard waved a hand around. “It was my Cecily’s idea to monetize the haunted house thing. I’d never have thought of it, and I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. It seemed like too much risk. But she convinced me—she always does. I guess that’s why she’s the brains and I’m the brawn. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Someone had to bring some life into this place, if you’ll pardon the pun.” Cecily smiled at her husband, a hint of exasperation in her voice. A thread of friction existed between them—what I’d expect from a long-married couple who weren’t the idyllic Smiths, existing in a romantic fairytale of their own creation. But they looked at each other like they loved each other, instead of wanting to wring each other’s necks. Mostly. Maybe a tiny bit of neck-wringing.
“Don’t let the specters hear ya.” Richard put his hand over Cecily’s and stroked it gently, diffusing the minor tension, before