1. CHAPTER #2
At least he would have, but it was stuck. He pulled, popped his finger in his mouth, licked all over it, and tried yanking on it with all his strength.
Nope. Absolutely stuck.
Clancy took a step back as if he was going to leave. “Take care of it. Or really, heh, I guess I should say they’re going to take care of you.”
“Oh no! No, no, no!” Indy seethed. “You don’t stick me with some cursed-ass ring, say a bunch of vague bullshit, and then—”
Clancy vanished.
“Motherfucker!” Indy roared, stomping his foot furiously. He dug his teeth into the sides of his finger, attempting to catch the ring and force it off.
Still nothing.
Great.
Wonderful.
“Yay, some stupid wizard probably put a cursed-ass fucking ring on me. Super dee fuckin’ duper.” Indy groaned. “This day absolutely sucks balls.”
He saw the empty coffee cup on the ground.
“And I have no more fucking coffee. Motherfucker!”
He kicked the empty cup and screamed.
Today was supposed to be a nice day off. He was supposed to go pick up dry cleaning, grab some groceries, maybe get a pedicure, and spend the remaining hours getting day drunk while binging television with Gammy.
But no.
Now he had to go home with no fucking coffee and try to figure out how to remove a cursed fucking ring.
He called for a ride home and spent the entire time scrolling angrily on his phone.
He couldn’t exactly make a post to bitch about his current predicament, as the whole being part of the monster world meant not saying crap about it.
No one had any idea the things that went bump in the night were very real and had formed a mafia right here in Somerstown.
La Famiglia Mostro—the Monster Family.
Four monsters who swore some brotherly bond crap and ruled over all the various critters and beasts promised to keep the peace and, most importantly, keep the existence of monsters a secret.
Indy had never met any of them personally, though he had seen Lou Morénas-Mostro at the club before, and Mr. Heiss came there every few weeks or so to talk to Mr. Kalt.
Lou was a werewolf and head of the Terrestrial side of things—monsters who descended from earth. He was also a big hottie who supposedly had taken a human for a mate. Having personally fucked many a werewolf, Indy wanted to meet that guy someday so they could trade knot stories.
Mr. Heiss was a demon in charge of the monsters who came from the Celestial.
Indy understood this world to basically be Heaven and Hell rolled into one endless universe where only angels had the light, and anything else, like demons and imps or whatever, were stuck in darkness.
It sounded boring as fuck, and Mr. Kalt never had anything pleasant to say about it.
Indy had no idea why every demon ever was addressed as mister and then had some random German word added to it.
Mr. Sturm, Mr. Regen, Mr. Wolke, and so on it went.
He’d asked once if there was a Mr. Scheisse, but Mr. Kalt hadn’t thought that was very funny.
Whatever.
Demons had no sense of humor.
That was something else he would have loved to bitch about on social media but of course could not.
He didn’t really have anyone he could chat with, and that realization dug into his gut like a stone covered in spikes.
He had no human contacts left, no friends or family to talk to, and his monster coworkers and clients always kept their distance from him outside of work.
They were no doubt fearful of Mr. Kalt’s wrath for getting too close to his property.
Well, he did have Gammy, but that was complicated.
Especially with the whole being dead thing.
Back at his apartment, Indy set to work figuring out how to get the ring off.
It was a two-bedroom unit on the top floor with a large screened-in patio, a chic modern kitchen, and a blissfully huge walk-in closet.
The decor ranged from Tom of Finland prints hung in rainbow frames to neon fringe pillows shaped like lips, and of course, a giant chair that was both a high heel and had a space for storage where he kept all his CDs.
It was loud, colorful, and just a touch risqué—just like Indy.
Gammy had been an avid collector of tea sets when she was alive, which meant Indy now had about thirty of them scattered around his home.
There were tea sets with cats, flowers, fruit, and lady bugs.
Indy had gifted her a custom set from a company called Vulgar Teacups with a black-and-white checkered pattern and detailed gold scrollwork.
Oh, and all the cups said Bitch on the inside in a curly cursive font.
They were Gammy’s favorite.
The second bedroom had been converted into a boudoir where Indy stored his clothing, makeup, and shoes.
The walk-in closet in the main bedroom was nice and all, but it was only large enough to contain his casual wardrobe.
Everything else in here was for work, and it included a diverse plethora of sequins, studs, latex, and leather.
It was also the space where he kept Gammy’s altar.
Once Indy discovered that oops, all monsters and magical stuff were actually real, he took it upon himself to rescue the rest of Gammy’s witchy possessions. He’d half expected them to vanish and reappear back at the house like before, but everything he took stayed there with him.
Including Gammy herself.
“Hi, sweetie cakes!” Gammy cooed from where she was seated on the couch, watching the marathon of RuPaul’s Drag Race Indy had put on for her before going out that morning. Undead witches might be able to haunt the living, but they had trouble navigating streaming services. “You’re home early!”
The short and sweet of it was that Gammy had decided as she got older that she didn’t want to pass on to the other side.
Being the powerful witch she was, she took certain magical precautions to make sure she didn’t.
When Indy asked her why, she’d told him there was still too much television she hadn’t caught up on yet.
She appeared as she had when she was alive, a small woman with once fair skin tanned a leathery brown from years working out in her garden.
Her hair was an untamed violet mane because she had mistaken purple dye as purple shampoo for toning and never looked back.
She was perpetually in a nightgown, and today’s manifestation was hot pink flamingos with neon green tropical foliage.
“Hi, Gammy.” Indy slammed the door behind him and groaned loudly. “I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Some asshole stuck a ring on me and I can’t get it off. I’m pretty sure it’s fucking cursed. So. Yay.” Indy flopped on the couch beside her, offering out his hand for her inspection.
As it turned out, Gammy was personally responsible for her things popping back up at the house.
She’d needed something to bind her soul to the mortal plane, and instead of choosing one item, she had chosen them all.
Once she’d seen that Indy was taking them, however, she’d decided she could use a change of scenery and chosen to stay with him instead.
Waking up one morning to find her trying to cook breakfast had resulted in screaming, a small fire, some tears, and then very awkward hugs since Gammy was still getting the hang of interacting with the mortal world.
Making her hands solid to grab ingredients or open a cabinet was one thing, but hugs usually resulted in part of Indy’s body going through Gammy’s because fully materializing was difficult.
“Oh! Hmm.” Gammy took Indy’s hand, turning it this way and that as she poked at the ring. “It’s quite old. Very powerful magic here.” She squinted. “How interesting.”
“You mean how cursed it is?”
“Did you even look at it, sweetie cakes? It’s a memento mori piece, I believe.”
“A mo-what now?”
“Memento mori. Remember that you must die. Jewelry with a fun flair for the macabre, including mourning jewelry. Victorians were fun like that, you see.”
“The stuff with, like, hair and whatever in it? From some dead person?”
“Yes, that.”
Indy stared down at the ring.
It was a little picture of a path winding through a forest with some kind of lidded pot at the end of it. The path was made up of tiny white fragments, maybe bone. The forest was strands of carefully arranged reddish hair. The lidded pot was something black and dull, like an unpolished stone.
Considering the other morbid bits, Indy really didn’t think it was a stone.
“Creepy. So, extra cursed.” Indy grimaced. “Can you get it off?”
“No.” Gammy frowned deeply. “There is something inside the ring that is not letting me. It doesn’t seem to be causing you any direct harm—”
“It’s ugly. Does that count?”
“Aw, I think it’s pretty.”
“Then you take it.”
“I’ll need some time to work out a spell to separate it from you. Safely.” She patted Indy’s arm.
Her touch was always cool but soft, though it did little to comfort him right now.
“You’re sure it’s not going to, like, make my skin fall off or something?” Indy chewed at the side of the ring.
“No. The energy feels, mmm, protective.” Gammy shrugged. “After all, it didn’t set off any of your jewelry, did it?” She tapped Indy’s earring. “The protection spell on those babies is one of my own. Whatever is in that ring shouldn’t be malicious.”
“Shouldn’t be?”
“Yes!”
“Should? As in, there is still a chance?”
“Shush, sweetie cakes.”