“Maybe I should swing by the new clip joint,” Darla said with a big smile. “I could use a new do.” Then she laughed, turning her head back and forth to make her dark hair swing. She’d been growing out the chin length bob she’d spent the last hundred years with.

  “You could,” Wanda said, eyeing Darla’s hair. “Imani is very skilled. But back to the coven, we definitely could use more members. Even banished, my mother still has her supporters. I want to be ready if any of them try anything.”

  My phone buzzed, distracting me from the gathering. I fished it out, worried that something might have gone wrong back at the office. Since we dealt with a lot of supernatural clients, Hallowed Homes didn’t exactly keep banker’s hours. Vampires weren’t likely to be able to swing an afternoon viewing, and some of our less able to blend in clients preferred the dark of night, too. So, we made sure our hours of operation could cater to all our clients’ needs.

  It did mean times when I got called back to the office in the middle of the night, though.

  Fortunately, or unfortunately, it wasn’t a work text. It was from Roy, wanting to know if I was free for dinner on Thursday.

  There wasn’t much to think about. I really liked Roy, and I didn’t necessarily want to break up with him, even if I wasn’t sure if this was the right relationship for me. It might have sounded silly, but if I hadn’t known about this soul-mate connection we supposedly shared, I would have been happier—happier thinking he was with me for me. Now I couldn’t help but wonder if Roy would even want to be with me if he wasn’t convinced we were fated to be together? I mean, it’s kind of hard to rebel against something as intimidating as fate.

  Still, I missed him, and I did want to see him. So, I shot him back a text that I’d be there.

  Something dark and hungry stirred in my belly as my inner Succubus woke like a cat from a nap, stretching as she uncurled. We hadn’t fed since the last time we’d seen Roy, and she was starting to get restless.

  That was another thing to consider. Most of the time, a Succubus couldn’t even consider monogamy. We fed from our romantic partners, and if we did it too often, we’d kill them—well, if they were human or a weaker sort of supernatural. That was part of why I’d tried to go cold turkey a while back. I didn’t want the party girl Succubus lifestyle, with a new guy every night. I wanted a husband, maybe a family, and a little house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and everything.

  My family thought I was crazy. I wasn’t sure they were wrong.

  But Roy was a Sasquatch. The amount of life force he carried, it hit my senses like a burning sun. I’d fed on him exclusively, and frequently, for months, and I’d never even so much as winded him. In him, I had the monogamous partner I’d always wanted.

  But was it all real? Or just another magic trick?

  The conversation had lapsed into gossip while I’d been distracted, little tidbits being batted around the table. But as I firmly pushed the problem of my relationship to the back of my head, the whole situation with the body in the graveyard kept bobbing back up again.

  Why had the man been there in the first place? Had someone followed him to the graveyard to kill him? I chewed my lip, as I tried to reason out what could or couldn’t have happened. Bailey had pretty pointedly changed the subject, and the conversation was clearly moving on, so it would have probably been better to just let the topic go. But other than the first two thefts in Haven Hollow recently, the rest of the graves that had been robbed had actually been inside the cemetery behind us. And then a random guy winds up dead there? That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? I couldn’t help but wonder if Antoine Novik’s grave had been one of those robbed.

  “Wanda,” I said quietly, while Darla and Bailey launched into a story about a haunted house they’d had to deal with as part of the Spook Society. “Do you know why anyone would want to steal from the cemetery?”

  In spite of the masquerade she and Lorcan were running, Wanda still possessed death magic. Plus, she was attached to the graveyard—something which also helped feed her magic. If anyone might know what would motivate someone, it was Wanda.

  She glanced at me before turning back to her drink. In the warm light of Poppy’s kitchen, her drink was the color of dark red blood. She swirled the glass, watching fog roll down the sides.

  “If I were pressed to give a reason, I’d assume greed,” she drawled. “Isn’t that why humans do anything?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” I started.

  She shook her head, interrupting me. “But they’d better be careful.” She smiled, and while she wasn’t a vampire, her teeth looked a little too sharp to make it a nice expression. “Some things were meant to stay buried.”

  Chapter Four

  I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life.

  Not many of them worked out for me. You’d think having the glamor and sex appeal of Succubus pheromones would have made me a natural salesperson or something, but really, they just ruined everything. Try selling a refrigerator to a couple while the male half is doing his best to proposition you. No commission for Fifi.

  But now, partially thanks to my repelling potion, I finally had, not just a job I loved, but a career I loved. Taking over Hallowed Homes was the biggest thing I’d ever done in my life. I’d gotten the company for a steal, since the last owner, Ophelia Ponsobby, had kind of, sort of tried to kill Wanda and ended up as a cement lawn ornament.

  She’d been a terrible boss, and not just because she was a Night Hag with an aura of decay. She’d been more interested in controlling just who could live in the Hollow than she was in finding people homes.

  But now, I was in charge. And the rush of satisfaction I got every time someone closed on their dream house... well, it was almost better than feeding.

  It was early morning when I unlocked the doors to Hallowed Homes and breezed through the main room and headed for my office. I didn’t have any appointments, but I wanted to catch up on paperwork before any of the others came in for the day. Even after the one too many cocktails I’d had the night before with the cocktail club, I didn’t have even as much as a headache—thanks to my Succubus metabolism. That was pretty much the only good thing about being a Succubus—it was very difficult for me to put on weight and that was a blessing because after all Mrs. Petryka’s goodies, I should have put on at least a few pounds.

  No one was scheduled to be in the office for a couple hours yet, not even Bea who acted as something of an office assistant (alongside Libby), so the soft knock on the frame of my open door made me startle in my desk chair.

  A man stood in the doorway, dark haired, clean shaven, in a gray suit. His being here at all jolted me, since I’d expected to be alone, but then I registered his face and had to blink a few times to try and get my brain back online.

  My Succubus lifted her head, like a shark scenting blood in the water.

  He was gorgeous. No way around that. Sharp cheekbones, a square jaw, and long lashed Godiva chocolate eyes. He was also human and that was, in a word—strange. It wasn’t that Hallowed Homes only catered to supernaturals, it was just that we didn’t get all that many mundanes walking in off the street.

  At that moment, his far too handsome features were looking a bit contrite.

  “Sorry,” he said, one hand raised like he was trying to show he was harmless. “I didn’t mean to startle you. There’s no one in the front office, but the front door was unlocked.”

  I slapped down my inner Succubus, much to her grumbling displeasure. I was still a strictly one-man kind of woman. Or one Sasquatch, at least. No matter how full another guy’s bottom lip was, like it was just begging to be bitten.

  But even if I’d been single, I still didn’t date humans. It was too easy for accidents to happen.

  “No, no, please, come in. Have a seat.” I gave him my best professional smile, and folded my hands on the gleaming black surface of my desk. “What can I help you with?”

  He smiled as he sat and actually offered me a hand across the desk. “My name is Donovan Novik, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me out. I’m in town to take care of some family matters, and I’m looking for a short-term rental in the interim. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, so a long-term lease would be a bit of an issue.”

  My brain stuttered to a stop, like the printer when it gets a paper jam. Novik? Could he be any relation to Antoine Novik, the man buried in the grave with the body sprawled across it? Of course, I wasn’t going to ask him as much because it wasn’t any of my business and for all I knew, this man had no idea a body had been found on his potential relation’s grave. Of course, why else would he be in Haven Hollow? So... maybe he did know and that was the business that had brought him here? Whatever his reasons, I wasn’t about to pry.

  So, back to his question—a short-term rental. I knew Lorcan had a number of properties in town, and he’d be more than willing to rent one out on a short-term basis if he didn’t have a tenant in it already. I started flipping mentally through any of the spots that might be remotely suitable, while I pressed for more information.

  “I’m sure we can find something, Mr. Novik. There are a number of apartments in Haven Hollow that could take on a temporary tenant.”

  Donovan heaved out a sigh and raked a hand back through his hair. He seemed agitated.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not exactly. The police recently contacted me to let me know that my great-grandfather’s grave had been vandalized and robbed.” So, they were related!

  “Oh, no, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He nodded. “I’m in town for however long it takes to get everything sorted with the grave robbery, and to get repairs made to the headstone, if necessary. I have no idea how long that will be, so,” he shrugged.

  “Again, I’m sorry.”

  The next smile Donovan gave me was a little tighter, a little less genuine. “The odd thing was that I hadn’t even known that one of my relatives was buried here.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded again. “Great-grandad was something of a black sheep in the family, and he disappeared off into the sunset a long time before I came on the scene. I don’t know why he chose here of all places to settle. Not that it isn’t a nice town,” he added hastily, like he was worried I’d be offended.

  I was basically ninety-nine percent sure this guy was fully human. Most supernaturals had tells, a certain feel to them, and I wasn’t getting any of those tells from Donovan Novik. And that meant I couldn’t tell him the most likely reason that Great-grandad had decided to settle in a Hollow—because he needed the protection of one.

  Donovan’s ancestor might have been a supernatural himself, but more likely he was the mortal son of a witch or something like that. Magic tended to stick close to the female side of a line, except in rare occasions like Wanda’s cousin, Maverick, who was a warlock (well now a Blood Warlock). Someone born mortal from a witch line would know enough about the magical world to want the safety of living in a Hollow.

  I grinned at him. “Haven Hollow has its charms. Maybe you’ll get a chance to see some of them while you’re in town.”

  Donovan smiled back, a slow curl of his lips. His dark eyes moved over my face. “Maybe I will,” he said, his voice brushing like sable velvet up my spine.

  I fought back a shiver. These were dangerous waters we were suddenly treading in. I clicked a few more keys on my keyboard to buy myself time to force the blush out of my cheeks.

  “Mr. Novik, I do have a few ideas of properties that might work for you. I just need to make a few calls. Can I get back to you later in the day?”

  I needed to touch base with Lorcan, but with the sun just now appearing in the sky, he was currently dead to the world, pun fully intended.

  Donovan fished a card out of his pocket and slid it across the table to me. “My card,” he said. “It has my cell number. I’m staying at the Haven Hollow Inn for now, but I’ll probably be at the town hall for most of the day. I figured I might as well do a little family history research while I’m here. Maybe I have some relatives in town I didn’t know about.”

  “Great, I will give you a call as soon as I have more information.”

  He gave me a wink. “Please, call me... for any reason.”

  It was a strange thing to say and I managed to keep the blood from rushing into my face by thinking about property tax forms. Meanwhile, Donovan stood and resettled his long coat onto his broad shoulders.

  “I’ll do that, Mr. Novik,” I said, suddenly desperately looking forward to the moment he left my office. I just—didn’t like the way I felt—like I’d done something I shouldn’t have done. “Enjoy your time in town and be sure to check out Main Street while you’re here.”

  He nodded and left my office. I didn’t relax until I heard the front door close. Then I sat forward, rested my elbows on my desk, and put my head into my hands.

  My inner Succubus gave a sulky little mumble. She’d been easier to deal with since I’d started feeding from Roy on the regular. I must have been pushing her off too much lately, since I’d been sort of avoiding Roy. Well, not so much avoiding him as just finding other things to do with my time. The truth was that this whole soulmate thing had sent me into a sort of tailspin.

  But tailspin or not, it didn’t change the fact that it felt wrong, to be in so much confusion about our relationship, yet to still show up to feed on Roy. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t just a meal. He was a good man, kind, protective of his friends, hard working, and handsome.

  He also happened to be been bound to me by Fate, instead of actually liking me for the woman I was. And even though he might have wanted to bow down to Fate, I had other ideas. And those ideas revolved around the notion of free will.

  ***

  Trying to call Lorcan before the sun set would be useless, so I busied myself with paperwork and other clients. Luckily enough, though the depths of winter had passed, the sun still set pretty early this time of year, so before the normal end of my day, I managed to get Haven Hollow’s resident vampire on the line.

  He seemed happy enough to have a short-term tenant, and rattled off a couple of his properties that might work as they were already furnished. Once we’d worked all that out, I thanked him, hung up, and gave Donovan Novik a call back.

  Just under an hour later, I met Donovan on Holliman Street, not too far from downtown, on the corner in front of a butcher’s shop.

  Donovan arrived only a minute or two after I did, so I saw him hesitate as he approached. It was just the smallest hitch in his step, but I could see the way his eyes were glued to the shop’s front window.

  It wasn’t anything macabre that had arrested his attention; there were no whole animals hanging in the window or anything like that. That would have given even me pause. But the display window made it pretty clear exactly what kind of store it was. Hmm, maybe he was vegan. I hadn’t even thought about the apartment location being a deal breaker. I’d been thinking more along the lines of ease in getting around, and how close it was to town hall and the library and archives, not so much about the store front.

  I plastered a warm smile on my face, while mentally I was tearing through the other available listings. Lorcan had a few other places to rent, but this was the most local one, plus it was above a mundane business and didn’t have close supernatural neighbors.

  Not that mingling wasn’t allowed or anything. I just thought it would minimize any particularly awkward situations, especially for a newcomer who wasn’t planning to stay permanently, one who could vanish into the night and leave one-star reviews of the town as they fled. Haven Hollow got a lot of tourists, so getting panned on Yelp because a human had seen someone living their supernatural life and gotten spooked could cause trouble in a lot of different ways.

  “Mr. Novik.” I held out my hand, swapping my briefcase to the other arm. “Thank you for meeting me. I wanted to show you this apartment. I think it would be perfect for your needs.”

  He was still eyeing the rib roast in the front window, his mouth tight, nostrils flaring like he was about to be sick.

  “And,” Donovan had to clear his throat and try again. “The apartment. It’s above this… store?”

  I barely managed to stifle a wince. Poor guy—he must have been a vegan or vegetarian. “It is,” I said, slowly. “Is that a problem? I have a couple other places in mind, but neither of them are as close to downtown or the places you said you were most interested in.”

  Donovan eyed the window a bit longer, and then shook himself all over, like a dog settling its fur. “No. No, this is fine. I’d like to see the apartment, please.”

  He really looked put off, but maybe it would be okay for the short term. “If you’re sure...”

  “I am.”

  So, I took him around to the rear entrance and let us in the back door. I ignored the door that would lead to the backrooms of the butcher’s shop, and brought Donovan up the narrow flight of stairs instead.

  It only took a couple seconds to get into the apartment on the top floor, and I stepped out of the way so Donovan could get through the door and have a look.

  It was a surprisingly nice place, a bit of a hidden gem, I’d say. Two bedrooms, one bath, full kitchen and living room, and while all the furnishings were on the bland side, giving it a bit of a hotel feel, it was still clean and pretty spacious, especially this close to Main Street.

  Donovan poked around, flipping on light switches, and checking out a few of the cupboards. He seemed to like what he was seeing, so I figured that was a good sign. His shoulders had started to relax out of the tight, bunched line they’d been in. Maybe he was relieved that coming in through the rear of the building meant he wouldn’t have to see the butcher’s quarters at all.

  Once he was done looking around, Donovan joined me in the living room. He was smiling, so I took that as another good sign.

  “I have to say, this is pretty perfect.” He ran a hand along the back of the chocolate brown couch. “I think this would work out really well for my needs.”