Ghoulies Abroad - Julie Steimle (great novels to read txt) 📗

MBA—only Michael was still training with the SRA (Supernatural Regulator’s Association). Just that very thought made Rick’s skin crawl. He liked Michael, but he hated that Michael worked alongside and with Rick’s worst enemies. The only good Rick saw in Michael working with the SRA was that Michael could at least make them fight fair. But honestly, the most difficult one to bring to China might be Andy himself. The guy needed a break. But he was now in med school, and that took all of his time and energy—literally. Jessica complained that he didn’t even have time to skype with her anymore.

Rick’s cell phone pinged.

Picking it up, he saw he got a text from Andy:

 

Howie, kinda busy right now. How urgent is this?

 

It figured, Rick moaned. One, because his best friend was never going to stop calling him Howie instead of Rick like he asked, and two because he knew he was going to get this kind of answer. He texted back:

 

The fact that he asked me to contact u is a sign that it is very urgent.

 

He sent it.

Then Rick decided to text Tom Brown:

 

Tom, are you in the mood for a China adventure?

 

As he sent it, Rick smirked to himself. It didn’t take much to egg on Tom Brown. He was half-imp half-human, which meant he loved trouble and the word adventure got him excited. His sneaky gifts were perfect for the CIA—as he could walk through walls, go semi invisible, fly, and command a horde of invisible imps to do his mischievous bidding—but his personality was anything but perfect for that organization. Tom was the living embodiment of anarchy. And though he liked being sneaky, doing whatever he wanted, and causing trouble, he was not malicious. He was also quite brilliant when he wasn’t distracted by that horde of invisible, screaming mischief-causing imps.

Tom texted back immediately:

 

Did you say China? How soon?

 

Rick snickered. And then he thought a little more deviously and texted back:

 

 I need to convince the 7 and Chen to join us. If u can do anything short of destroying their lives to urge them to come, I’d appreciate it.

 

Tom texted back:

 

The 7 scare me. But I can convince Chen at least.

 

Sighing, Rick replied:

 

Ok, do that. I’ll keep working on the 7.

 

He should have known his friends in the Seven even frightened Tom. There was something about the Seven that intimidated everyone. They emanated power in a quiet, often understated yet forceful way. Most of them felt older than time—including his best friend Andrew. Rick felt less uncomfortable with Jessica and Peter than the others. Those two at least felt their age. The other guys had older souls which when they gazed at the world, felt like they were weary of all the ‘petty things’ of the modern age. It was a good thing they were his friends. Otherwise Rick would be terrified of them as well.

Andy texted back:

 

Post it on the site and we’ll get back to you.

 

Ugh. Rick groaned. Apparently his friend was extremely busy.

Rick opened another window on his computer and put in the web address. The website came up after a few seconds. His internet was lagging a little. Rick peeked to his roommate who was studying seriously at his desk. Though Rick could have easily moved into a private apartment while going to school, he had learned he was actually safer living among his fellow students. Hunters could not walk onto campus armed—and his classmates often protected him from his famous allergies as many of them had their own.

The website popped up.

The front page was elegant and utilitarian at the same time. It gave no revealing details about who was in the Seven, but it did provide an overview of what they did. Their credentials as official UN sanctioned supernatural regulators were displayed next to a list of questions for newcomers and a log-in box for VIPs. Rick put in his password for that. He was immediately taken to a chat screen where he could ‘voice a concern and make a request for help’. Rick opened his email window again and brought up that email from the monk. In the subject box for the Seven’s website, Rick typed in:

 

I just got this email today through my blog. I think it is legit. Contact me ASAP, as I’d like to arrange a trip soon. If school is a problem, I can arrange someone to stand in for you in your classes to video record and take notes.

Rick.

 

Then he cut and pasted the email from the monk.

When he clicked on the Submit box, Rick sat back. He still didn’t feel satisfied, though. Something nagged at him, telling him that several in the Seven would debate this email before giving it urgent consideration. And he had begun to feel it needed urgent consideration. It was bothering him.

So Rick went back to his email and opened the window for a new message. He wrote:

 

Guys,

I hate to nag, but this feels critical. I would not bug you at all if this wasn’t important, but I really would like you all to come to China with me to deal with this monk’s problem. Check your website for the copy of the letter I got. I am going to China with or without you, as I do need to visit a few business contacts there anyway. And if this means I only bring Tom Brown, then so be it. He has already agreed to go. I may be bringing another friend also, as he might be a help since my Chinese is still rudimentary. The trip should take about a week at the most. I’ll handle all the flight, hotel, and visa arrangements. Don’t worry about money.

Rick

 

He sent it as spam to every friend in the Seven, plus Tom and Chen. He then emailed Chen, forwarding the email from the monk to him also. After that, he tagged on his remarks:

 

Chen, this is a chance to reconnect with your roots. It has been ages since you have been in China, and Tom and I will be with you. I really need a translator, though, and someone to explain Chinese demons to me. I don’t know a thing about it. Also, could you help me find a copy of that book the monk mentioned? I’ve never heard of it. Seriously, I need your help with this.

Rick

 

He sat back and stared at that email then pressed Send. All he had left was to wait.

Arrangements

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Peter responded first.

 

Howie, I wish I could just drop everything and come to China. I do. It sounds cool and interesting, and yeah, important. I’ve read Journey to the West, and if you are dealing with the demons in that book, you will have your work cut out for you. Problem is, I can’t. I really can’t. I am stuck in serious research here in Rome, and I think I may have found a huge connection to the Holy Seven’s patron elf—Yes, we have one of those. Mr. Jones made it clear to me before he got sick last year that it was important that we find him or her. It is critical that I stay here and continue my research. Sorry.

Peter

 

Rick moaned. Peter was probably just completely engrossed in his soccer training. Yet, Rick’s eyes drifted to the P.S. under the email, and he snorted, reading it.

 

P.S. And I am NOT just making excuses to keep in my football training.

 

Yep. Peter knew what everyone was thinking. And football…. That’s right, Peter had adopted the British name for the sport. The soccer snob. Of course Peter was definitely going pro. And… he probably was telling the truth about his research. Peter was the Seven’s supernatural expert as such kooky things had always been an obsession of his.

So, Peter was out. That was a shame. Peter was actually one of the most even-headed and grounded members of the Seven. He was the easiest to reason with.

The next email that came was from Semour.

 

Howie—So, you’ll send someone to video my classes and take notes? Can you get them to upload and send them to you so I can study in my spare time? I’ve got a heavy load this year. It’s going to get me into a good engineering school for my Master’s, you know. I can’t go without this guarantee. Sir Cooly

 

That was a ‘Yes.’ Semour was coming. Good. Semour was terrifyingly skilled as a warrior, and incredibly smart. He was also physically the youngest of the Seven, though in spirit much much older. Rick replied to the email with the reassurance that he would do exactly what Semour needed. He just needed a copy of Semour’s course schedule and syllabus.

Two emails came at once, almost like they knew they were sending at the same time. James Peterson and Daniel Smith often replied in tandem, as if those best friends had never been apart. James’s email came in first.

 

Howie,

Here’s the thing… I’m not in class but doing in-the-field training right now. If you can just speak to my supervisor and get me a week leave, that is all it will take. You get me that, and tell me what I need to pack, and I’ll be there quicker than Swift.

Sir Strength Heart

 

Rick chuckled and replied that he would promptly contact James’s supervisor and his boss and arrange for a short leave. He even suggested paying James’s trainer to borrow him for a time. But being there quicker than his friend Swift (who was Daniel)—that was unlikely. Daniel’s email said:

 

Rick. Let me get this straight. A Buddhist monk writes in native English with texting abbreviations, somehow knows about us and you, and is talking about wolves, tigers, demons, and DRAGONS—and you don’t find that suspicious? Or is it that what makes you think this is so urgent? I’ll tell you what… I will come. I can get notes from my classmates. But I need you to help me with something for Silvia. Her mom is no longer sending her money—on orders from the coven—and they are watching Dad’s every move because they don’t want him to help her. If you can pay her rent for this month—she’s at a new place, hiding from the coven—then I’ll hop on a plane right now and drag whomever I can with me.

Swift

 

Rick stared at that one. He had heard Daniel’s half-sister Silvia Lewis was trying to leave the coven, but he had not been sure if it was true. Yet if she had taken his advice (through a friend) to contact her half-brother Daniel for help, then maybe it was possibly true. And though Rick’s instinct was to distrust a powerful witch like Silvia, something in him said helping Silvia here was a win-win situation. He also stared at that last part. Daniel must have known he would have trouble getting some people to come on this trip. The guy was so quick-minded. His nickname fit him to a T. Daniel was also one of the few who honored (or tried to honor) his request to be called Rick rather than Howie—his childhood nickname.

Emailing him back, Rick asked him to help him get Andrew and any other feet-dragger to come. He also asked for where he could send the money for Silvia’s rent.

After