Free Shadows of New York by Heather Fraser Brainerd

them Team Aiden and Team Larry.” At Josh’s puzzled expression, she explained, “They’re werewolf and vampire fans, respectively.”
    It made sense. He had heard about things like that, where two groups hated on each other over pretend characters. He wondered if the rivalry was even more intense with real people. It had to be like his father, a Yankees fan, and his uncle, who loved the Red Sox. As brothers, they got along fine as long as baseball wasn’t mentioned.
    “So what are you?” Josh asked.
    “Pardon?” Cleo raised an eyebrow.
    “You’re not a regular person, are you?”
    There was a pause while Cleo drummed her fingernails on the desk. She said, “No, Josh. I am, in fact, Cleopatra VII Philopator, the last pharaoh of Ancient Egypt. The Cleopatra.At least, that’s who I originally was. Now I’m Cleo Chickaboom, half owner of Staffing Solutions.”
    Josh studied the smiling woman across the desk. “You don’t look like a mummy. Are you some kind of ghost?”
    With a smile, she answered, “No, Josh, I’m what you’d call a reanimation. In current terminology, a zombie.”
    Josh looked closely at her, checking for what his video games taught him were the normal signs for detecting a zombie. There were no large patches of skin missing. There were no arms detaching themselves. And, most importantly, there was no moaning for brains.
    “Why aren’t you moaning for brains?” Josh asked.
    This caused a high, twittering laugh from Cleo. “Oh, Josh, we aren’t like that at all. Well, not anymore. That came from the old mummy days when, as part of the mummification process, the brain was removed. When we came back to life, we sought the bits and pieces that were taken out. The second-hand brain I ended up with, unfortunately, wasn’t a perfect match. I forget stuff all the time.”
    The phone rang. Lindsay picked it up before Cleo had a chance. A moment later, Lindsay called, “Cleo, Mr. Pitt’s on line one.”
    While muttering something about “another one” under her breath, Cleo reached for her phone, but stopped halfway there. “Could you hang on a second, Josh?”
    “Sure.” It occurred to him that everyone up front would be busy and this would be a good chance to sneak a peek at the back rooms. “Do you have a bathroom I could use?”
    She pointed toward the back as she spoke into the phone. “Darling, how are the wife and kids?”
    Josh set off, snooping. He poked his head into the room Cleo pointed to and saw what looked like a break room. A round table sat in the middle, and cabinets and a refrigerator lined the back wall. An open door near the fridge led to the bathroom.
    Instead of heading for the bathroom, Josh went through the door he had seen Aiden use.
    He found himself in a long hallway. The wall on his right only went up to his chest. From the other side of the half-wall, he heard Siegfried. “Mr. Midnight's been having some kind of ripple effect on the Real World. That day when you stopped a robbery and had a run-in with those punks later on? That was just the beginning. Events like that are becoming more common. You have to be more careful with those kids.”
    Crouching down and creeping forward, Josh peeked over the top of the wall, looking down into what appeared to be a gymnasium. Standing in the middle, on a blue-matted area, was a large, hairy beast. Only the fact that it was wearing Aiden’s clothes made Josh recognize his nanny. Siegfried strode toward Aiden, carrying what looked like a pair of shiny gold gloves.
    “Sunguard gauntlets,” Siegfried said as he came to a stop in front of Aiden and held them up. “The only thing that can touch a wraith. You try your teeth or claws and you’ll go right though like he’s not even there.”
    Aiden took the gloves and tried putting them on. With his werewolf paws, he wasn’t able to do it.
    “Yeah, I thought you’d have trouble like that,” growled Siegfried. “You’ll have to put them on before changing. Or I can