“Hey, don’t get your dander up,” Harper said, her brow furrowing. “I just want to catch that bastard…and let his maggot infested corpse rot in the depths of hell – forever.”

Dorian blinked at her violent mini – speech, and sighed. His stance relaxed and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes.

“My fiance,” Harper continued, growling and putting emphasis on the specific word, “let the girl he was cheating with drop a sandbag on me. I think it’s only fair to let me torture them a bit.”

“I don’t see how you’re going to accomplish that,” Dorian told her, now tucking the bag into a belt around his waist. “You can’t touch things.”

“I made him see me,” Harper insisted; she didn’t even notice her hair floating about her like some Medusa’s mane. “I will not take no for an answer. I can’t leave mom hanging like this!”

“Calm down, or you’ll send us all flying,” Dorian warned, eying her snake like hair.

“Eh?”

The power in the room drained, and the ghost hunter sighed again.

“Must I explain everything?”