How Not To Be A Goddess Read Online Marian Tee

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"Then you understand it's highly confidential?"

"Yes, sir."

I glanced at Hadrian in surprise. "Is it?"

"We don't want anyone, dead or alive, thinking it's even marginally possible to escape Tartarus."

"I understand, sir," the agent answered.

"Got that," I said at the same time and was immediately confused. "You were talking to me, weren't you?"

But Hadrian and Tristan were already striding down the paved walkway.

"Soul swaps always requires consent," Tristan was telling Hadrian, "but just as with any spell, there's a way to circumvent this. In our victim's case—-" Tristan unlocked the front door as he spoke. "It's likely she was subjected to a controlling spell first."

I closed the door behind us just as Tristan switched the lights on, and the first thing I saw was Hadrian rolling his eyes.

Huh?

I was about to ask him if I had done something wrong when I saw a visibly puzzled Tristan glancing at the door.

Oops.

I was usually more careful about hiding my presence, but Hadrian's company had obviously spoiled me, and I kinda sorta forgot I was a ghost whom no one else could see or hear.

"Must be the wind." Tristan sounded like he was trying to convince himself of this.

"Must be," Hadrian agreed without missing a beat and changed the subject right after, asking, "Who else has had access to this place since Edith was found dead?"

"It's just me and my team. We've had surveillance set up since we learned about Edith being a person of interest. So far, no one's made any attempt to enter the premises."

And true enough, the whole place looked undisturbed, which I personally found a little sad. The whole house still had a lived-in feel to it, like Edith was about to walk through the front door any moment.

Hadrian started asking about vehicles as we moved to the second floor, and at first I thought he was talking about actual cars. It was only when Tristan answered about their sweep of the house coming up with zero results that I realized they might be talking of something else. I may not have grown up reading Car and Driver, but even I knew cars weren't something you could easily hide even if you lived in a fancy mansion, which Edith obviously didn't.

We entered Edith's bedroom, and it was just as neat and girly as the rest of her home. One wall was completely covered with shelves containing an incredible collection of first-edition classics. There was also a dressing table in one corner, and I walked up to it for a closer look. There were a couple of Polaroids washi-taped to the mirror, mostly photos of Edith and her friends or Edith posing in front of a bookstore. She also had a porcelain brush lying on top of the table, and it looked beautiful, expensive, and old.

"Sir?" I heard Tristan say while I examined the painted details on the back of the brush. Could this be an heirloom or something she had bought from an antique shop?

"What is it?" Hadrian asked.

"I, ah, I just thought I should point out there's a floating hairbrush next to you."

Shit. The brush slipped out of my hold in my panic, but Hadrian caught it handily.

"Nothing to worry about," Hadrian said calmly as he placed the hairbrush back on the vanity. "We just have a newly released soul in our company."

A disbelieving expression crossed the agent's face. "You mean a ghost, sir?"

Hadrian's instant glare had me choking back a laugh while Tristan hastily stammered out an apology.

"It's sweet of you to get mad on my behalf," I told Hadrian ruefully, "but there's no need. He's just telling the truth."

"Hm."

That was probably grunt speak for 'I'm still pissed', and it was just too cute that I couldn't resist holding on to his shoulders as I tiptoed to place a quick kiss on his lips. But when I tried pulling away, he insisted on keeping an arm around my waist, which of course had the agent looking momentarily baffled.

"My girlfriend's already aware of the facts of the case—-"

Did he just call me, a ghost, his girlfriend?

"But she's also relatively new to how things work in our world. Could you explain to her what vehicles are?"

"Of course, sir." Tristan seemed to have found his bearings back, and I couldn't help grinning when he even turned my way as he told me how vehicles could be any object of any monetary value. "What makes them ideal to use for controlling spells is its perceived worth to the spell's target." I couldn't help noticing how he sounded more nervous than afraid now, like the prospect of unintentionally disrespecting Hadrian's girlfriend worried him more than the possibility of being haunted.

"We were hoping to find the vehicle here," the agent continued with a grimace, "but there's nothing in this house that has even the faintest trace of magic in them."


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