It was Darragh’s similarity to Lorcan that helped me to see him as less of a threat than he likely was. Lorcan and I were friendly with one another—he’d served as my landlord when I’d rented the opposite side of Wanda’s duplex. After a disaster involving animate mold, I’d moved into another property of Lorcan’s—this one much closer to the realty office.

  I’d even allowed Lorcan to feed on me a few times. While that might sound scary or intimate, it really wasn’t either. Being fed on by a vampire didn’t have the same ramifications for someone like me as it did a mundane. There was no danger of Lorcan turning me into one of his own kind, and there was nothing sexual about it. Sure, the man had a reputation as an incorrigible flirt, but he was also one of the few men who didn’t objectify me. And I’d always appreciated that about him. The only other men I could put in the same category were my old boss, Roy, who had become a good friend, and Marty Zach, whom I hoped would be more.

  I was so used to men falling all over themselves around me, attracted by my succubus magic, that it was something of a relief when a man didn’t—when he treated me like I was the same as any other woman.

  I drove Lorcan from my thoughts as I tried to focus on what Darragh was saying. If I didn’t know what he was (essentially a magic dog), his accent and deep voice would have struck me as kind of sexy. I could only imagine meeting him for the first time would almost be like meeting a blind date and then finding out your expectations exceeded the real person standing in front of you. No, a grim wasn’t exactly an attractive option as a potential mate.

  Did they even mate? I wondered, further unsure how they procreated… then I realized I might not want to know.

  “This plot of land had best live up to your promises or I’ll be more than a little put out,” Darragh continued. “My time is valuable and I do not appreciate it wasted.”

  “I understand, and I’m sure the plot and the tomb will stand up to your scrutiny. This is a very special piece of Haven Hollow history. And… as I told your proxy, Cranough, this particular location has many of the features you’re looking for. The graveyard was the first founded in Haven Hollow and it’s over one hundred years old, which should provide you with numerous spirits and graves to protect. The tomb, itself, belonged to none other than the founder of Haven Hollow, Jeremy Grenton Haven.”

  “Yes, the infamous gargoyle.”

  “Right.”

  “And the size of the tomb?”

  “Is large… roughly fifteen feet by fifteen feet, and dates back to 1845. It’s in the gothic style.”

  “And it’s a freestanding tomb?”

  “It is. It also includes Jeremy Genton Haven’s sarcophagus in an arched recess that’s raised on brackets. The tomb includes classical-style arches and columns and features sculptural portraits of the Haven family and a freestanding figure of the deceased.”

  “Is there more you can tell me about the plot?”

  “Haven Cemetery also comes with a mausoleum containing several vaults, and I’ve already sold some of the vaults to our supernatural residents so you’ll have them to guard in the coming decades. Until then, you’ll be able to guard the mortal residents buried in the main portion of the graveyard and use your magic to shield them from any dark magic.”

  “Dark Magic?” Darragh repeated, sounding more interested. “And from where does this so-called ‘dark magic’ emanate?”

  “Oh, from the Blood Witch who lives nearby.” My mind shifted back to Wanda for a moment. She was actually excited about the prospect of having a grim around, because she was hopeful Darragh’s power would keep her from inadvertently raising any zombies she didn’t mean to reanimate.

  “There is a Blood Witch in Haven Hollow?”

  “Yes. I told your proxy as much.”

  “Has she claimed Sanctum?”

  “Yes, and she’s also on the council.”

  “I see,” Darragh answered and paused for a few moments. “Then she still has her wits?”

  I cleared my throat, finding this subject uncomfortable, because it was so personal to Wanda and yet… Darragh did have a right to know what was going on with Wanda if he was planning on taking residence in the cemetery. “She does.”

  “And the vampire who sired her?”

  “He’s her… friend.”

  “Then he hasn’t lost his sanity either?”

  “No, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Hmm… interesting.” He paused for another few seconds. “Is this Blood Witch friend or foe?”

  “Friend, most definitely.”

  “Until she turns.”

  I didn’t know exactly what he meant, so I didn’t respond.

  “I am to understand this property possesses no church?”

  “As I discussed with Cranough, there are no churches at either of our cemeteries in Haven Hollow, but I believe you’ll be happy here even without a church on the grounds.” And then I remembered the abandoned and somewhat derelict shack on a parcel of land just beside this one. “If you purchased the adjacent property to the graveyard, one with a shack of sorts already on it, you could build a church there?”

  “Silly child,” Darragh responded in a thundering voice. “I cannot build a church.”

  “Oh.”

  Darragh grew completely silent for a moment and I hurried to fill the silence, afraid I might be losing his interest. I really needed to make this sale because it was a big one. “There are also some marble statuaries on the plot, lots of ivy and full-grown Ash trees. As to the tomb, I could add furnishings and other details to provide for your comfort if you decide to make this purchase.”

  “I see.”

  “Once you’ve seen it for yourself, we can discuss any other measures that would be to your liking and maybe I can accommodate those too.”

  I didn’t want to make any promises I couldn’t keep, but I did want Darragh to understand I was willing to work with him and this sale was important to me. It was necessary for me to earn a reputation as someone who went above and beyond for her clients—that was the only way I could hope to draw the attention of the more exotic supernaturals.

  At the same time, it was best not to show my hand entirely, even if I was willing to go pretty far to upgrade the property to suit Darragh, regardless of whether those upgrades meant me losing a bit of profit on the sale. If I could get someone as picky as a grim to buy one of my properties in the Hollow, that would only attract other, more specific buyers.

  “Harrumph!” He sighed, exasperated. “I’ll judge for myself upon seeing it. I’ll be arriving tonight. Don’t be late for our appointment tomorrow evening.”

  I started to say I wouldn’t be late, but realized he’d already hung up. I looked at the receiver for a moment and then placed it back onto its cradle, figuring this conversation was the best I could hope for. Yes, Darragh was infinitely contrary and more than a bit frightening, but at least he seemed like he was open-minded about the place.

  “How’d it go?” Bea asked from behind me, causing me to jump.

  It was only then that I realized she’d been hovering. She was, no doubt, prepared to give me a pep talk if I needed one. I smiled at her, but then shook my head.

  “I don’t know. Darragh was hard to read.”

  Bea nodded. “Grims are notoriously cranky and difficult to deal with.”

  “I think the conversation might have gone over well, but I can’t be sure until after the tour and well, I probably won’t know his exact intentions until he actually purchases the place.”

  Bea nodded again. “If you want to do business with exotics, you’ll have to get used to that. They aren’t the easiest lot to deal with and some of them are downright impossible.”

  “Well, hopefully we’ll start making a name for ourselves and Hallowed Homes will be the one-stop-shop for exotics.”

  “We are well on our way,” Bea answered with a big grin.

  I nodded. “This is a big positive for us—and the fact that Darragh is even coming out to see the graveyard is a pretty big deal.”

  “Just don’t be put off by his appearance… and I guess you already survived his voice.”

  I looked up at her then, nodding in quick succession. “His voice was… bizarre. Almost like there were multiple people talking at the same time.”

  “It’s the most terrifying thing about a grim—unless, of course, you cross their boundaries. Then, you’re looking at an entirely different creature altogether.”

  “Have you known many of them?”

  She cocked her head to the side as she pondered my question. “A few. I still hold tithes from a couple of them, actually.”

  “You used to act as a proxy?” I was surprised.

  She nodded. “It’s good to earn favors from powerful creatures.” Then she sighed. “Someday, I’ll call those favors in… when I need them most.”

  Then something occurred to me. “I hope Darragh doesn’t think he’s paying me in tithes.”

  Bea shook her head. “You would’ve had to sign a contract for him to think that and you kind of, sort of need to be fae in order to act as proxy. I mean… I’ve never heard of any other creatures doing it.”

  “Ah.”

  Bea nodded and continued with her explanation. “Cash is king and all that, but when you’re in a real pickle, tithes aren’t the worst thing to have on your books. Cash won’t do you any good in a serious crunch with the wrong sorts. And tithes can be a far better bargaining tool than paper money sometimes.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever offered any tithes.”

  “Chances are, you won’t. Tithes are pretty much reserved for the fae.” Then her expression dropped as she turned around and faced the front of the office. “Crap!” She said, disappearing from my doorway and hurrying down the hallway to employ her glamour in order to look ‘presentable’, as she called it.

  I poked my head into the hallway in time to see a mundane walking through the door. I watched as Bea, having tucked her wings under her baby-blue cardigan, walked calmly back to her desk and sat down as Libby stood up to greet him.

  I glanced back at the phone. A shiver ran through me just thinking about that echoing voice on the other end. I couldn’t help but wonder if inviting in creatures like grims was a smart move, after all. Ophelia was a horrible boss, but she’d had a keen eye for business. And she hadn’t gone after the business of the exotics. I had to wonder if there was a reason why.

  The thought of Ophelia made my skin crawl, and I wondered at Bea’s warning about seeing a grim in person. Would Darragh be more hideous than Ophelia had been? A night hag was a sight you didn’t soon forget. I wasn’t sure if I was up to having to face something potentially more hideous, much less do business with it.

  Crap. I thought as I realized what I’d set myself up for... Meeting a grim in an almost pitch-black cemetery, by myself…

  Don’t forget you’re a demon, Fifi, I reminded myself. And a demon shouldn’t be afraid of a dog…

  Chapter Five

  Eager for a distraction after my conversation with Darragh, I hummed around the office, rearranging things I wasn’t quite happy with. I moved some brochures to the front entrance and then paused as I turned around and tried to figure out what else I could busy myself with so I wouldn’t have to focus on my nerves, which were getting the better of me.

  “You need to get going,” Libby called out to me. “You have a Council meeting in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks,” I replied in my most positive sounding voice, but I really didn’t feel like going. In fact, I was feeling bad altogether. I took a deep breath. “Is it hot in here, Libby?”

  “Nope. Feels fine to me,” she chirped, quickly returning to her desk to answer a ringing line.

  I adjusted my collar, which suddenly felt way too constricting. The office was not only hot, but it was humid too—like a Louisiana swamp. I could feel sweat breaking out along my forehead and the small of my back, and I suddenly needed some fresh air.

  Figuring I could kill two birds with one stone, I planned to stop by the cemetery and clean up the tomb (again) before Darragh arrived to look at it. Even though I’d already tidied the place a few days ago, before Darragh’s proxy had visited, I figured I could tidy it up again. After all, I needed it to be in premium order. Selling this graveyard to the grim would really get Hallowed Homes off on the right foot.

  Plus, I didn’t want to go to the council meeting, even if I had to be there. I’d just recently been voted onto the panel—as soon as I’d opened Hallowed Homes. In order to have a council seat, one had to own a business in Haven Hollow. Now that I did, Roy had nominated me for panel membership and the others on board had immediately agreed. So, I’d sort of been declared a member without having ever necessarily wanted to be one. But, I figured it would be good for business if I had a say in the way of things in Haven Hollow.

  The council held bi-monthly meetings in order to keep a check on supernatural residents and the mundanes in Haven Hollow. The whole point of the council was to make sure we were doing our best to minimize supernatural exposure. If I didn’t go to the meeting, no doubt, my brother Angelo, would try to step in for me and nothing good would come of that. Angelo had been more than irritated when I’d been given a place on the council and had already provided me with a list of issues he had with the way the council was running things. Not that I brought up any of those concerns because they were ridiculous in my estimation (the first item on his list was a complete segregation of mundanes and supernaturals).

  Even though I was allowing Angelo to stay with me while his floors were installed, he was still annoyed with me because I’d refused to allow him to feed on his clients. His argument was that since Ophelia allowed him to do that and more, so should I. Honestly, he was just exhausting to deal with, but from where I stood, I didn’t believe I had another choice. Angelo was my brother and if demons were anything, they were close-knit… or they were supposed to be. If I’d had my way, I would have sent Angelo back home to annoy our parents instead of me, but I guess you don’t always get what you want. Besides, there was a tiny part of me that hoped maybe things between Angelo and me were improving slightly. There had been a few times when we’d gotten along decently well and my hope was that it would continue.

  But, back to the council meeting—I had to go because I didn’t want to chance Angelo trying to go in my absence. And even though I really wanted to double-check the tomb, there just wasn’t time for it.

  I grabbed my jacket and climbing into the 4Runner, headed over to the Half-Moon Bar and Grill, where the meeting would be held. Upon arriving, I noticed there were still some mundanes in the bar, but they wouldn’t pose a problem, as we always reserved one of the back rooms intended for parties so we could have the privacy we required to conduct our meetings.

  There was a time when I could hardly step into the Half-Moon comfortably. Men were wildly attracted to me for reasons they couldn’t understand. Sure, I wasn’t hard on the eyes. Great beauty was a part of my existence—it was part and parcel of being a succubus. My kind were meant to be beautiful in order to attract our prey, but that alone didn’t explain the longing men felt in my presence. That longing wasn’t owing to my beauty, it was owing to my pheromones. That’s why I’d never felt comfortable taking advantage of mundane men, even though such was exactly what I was supposed to do in order to survive. I just hated the idea of robbing someone of his own free will.

  Honestly, I hated having the kind of effect on men that I did. Luckily, thanks to Poppy and Wanda’s powers, I could now walk into this place and others with relative ease.

  As to the Half-Moon, I had to wonder if the air conditioning was out as I crossed the main dining room toward our meeting room. It was usually much cooler in here, but now it was very warm—unpleasantly warm even. Hmm, why was it so hot everywhere today?

  I felt like I was in a sauna and very discreetly checked to make sure my armpits weren’t visibly wet through my clothes. Gross. As far as I could tell, my anti-perspirant was doing its job. Sighing, I continued walking toward the room in the back, taking my seat on one side of the long table and greeting everyone as we all settled in.

  As I sat there, waiting for the meeting to begin, my anxiety was at peak levels and the nauseous feeling I’d had earlier returned with gusto. In fact, I felt faint.

  Why is it so hot and why do I feel so bad?

  And then it dawned on me. I was low on energy, because I hadn’t fed in far too long—the kiss I’d stolen from the man at the Black Bat hadn’t been enough to soothe my starving body.

  Maybe Bea is right and I should just have sex with a supernatural man and break this five year stint of abstinence, I thought to myself. Then, at least, I wouldn’t feel so crappy all the time.

  But, no, I couldn’t wrap my brain around having a one-night stand. It just… it wasn’t me. And it offended every romantic bone in my body. No, I’d just continue avoiding sex, like I had been, and I’d continue to rely on shallow feedings, taking a bit of energy from kisses here and there. Yet, I’d have to make sure those shallow feedings weren’t so few and far between.

  Yes, Roy had offered to appease me when I needed it and I’d shared a kiss with him, but somehow, the kiss just hadn’t felt right—we were friends and until recently, he’d been my boss. Regardless, I hadn’t taken him up on his offer and now I was suffering for that decision.

  Soon, I was going to be forced to seek out a true mate—there was only so long my body could deal with this constant state of hunger. As to finding a mate, I wasn’t sure how I was going to do so without using my supernatural powers of attraction, since I was hopeless at dating. And, I’m not exaggerating. Actually, ‘hopeless’ was probably too nice a word for my string of miserable relationships.

  The more I thought about it, the more my thoughts returned to what Bea had said about just taking a lover for a night and never seeing him again. It would be the easy way out of this—the path of least resistance. As much as I hated that idea, I couldn’t afford to get sick. I had a business to run, and I couldn’t do that from a sick bed—and a sick bed was exactly where I was headed. If my body didn’t get the life energy it so desperately needed, pretty soon I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed at all.