This though… this gal was a real spirit. And from the looks of it, she was in a real rush to get wherever it was she was going.

  I frowned, reaching out with my hands and my power both, trying to feel out the ghostie’s energy. She wasn’t static, no. But she also wasn’t migratory. This was a ghost that should have been bound to a house, caught behind a threshold, not just out on the streets drifting towards unknown destinations. How the heck had someone called her outside like that?

  The spirit kept going, not even giving me a second glace as she floated up the boulevard.

  I needed answers. And there was one way I could get them, but it was a risk, and it wasn’t just mine to take.

  Cain? I thought at my passenger. You okay if I follow her?

  He grunted an assent. Hurry, or we’ll lose her.

  That’s what I figured he’d say. Cain wasn’t someone who let things like personal safety get in the way of solving crimes, case in point: how he’d been killed on the job by a literal demon. Still, I had to ask.

  I broke into a light jog, and I could hear the swish of Lorcan following behind me. Even as I went after the spook, I kept a bit of distance between us. I wanted to see where she was going, but at the same time, if she was being called out by whatever it was that was destroying ghosts, I didn’t want to give it a chance to go after me, too.

  I was pretty fond of being alive again. And I’d barely gotten a taste of all the things the modern world had to offer.

  Cautious, I followed the spook into the dark.

  Chapter Seven

  Embarrassingly enough, I’d forgotten Lorcan was with me until he easily caught up and grabbed my elbow.

  “What are you doing? Are you daft?” He tried to tug me back, but I dug my feet in, not that it would make a difference in the end. If Lorcan really wanted to move me, I’d be moved.

  “I don’t want to lose her. She might lead me to whatever is getting rid of all the spooks!”

  Lorcan stared at me like I was loopy. “We don’t know what’s doing this, Darla. It could be dangerous.”

  The ghostie was nearly to the end of the block. She wasn’t moving so fast that I couldn’t catch up, but she was faint, hard to see. If she took a turn, I might not be able to spot her again. “I know, that’s why I have to go after her! This is probably the only chance I’m gonna have to find out what’s going on. And if I can save her, I gotta give it a try.”

  We’re wasting time, Cain barked. We’ve got to move.

  “I don’t like it.” Lorcan shook his head, not letting go of my arm.

  “I really don’t think—”

  “So,” he continued, right over top of me like I wasn’t hanging from his grip like an irritated kitten. “If you need to go after the spirit, I’m going to simply tag along to ensure you don’t die.” He let me go then, only to snatch my arm back when I almost fell on my face.

  “Well,” I started but then Cain began barking at me again so I figured I’d best get my move on. The ghost was almost out of sight. “I appreciate the backup.”

  I was sure Cain would have an opinion, so I tried to cut him off at the pass. A vampire is a pretty decent cavalry, you gotta admit.

  Yes, maybe he’ll try to clean and floss her teeth while he’s at it.

  Very funny, Crabby.

  He grumbled, but it was a grumble of agreement. Cain’s various growls and grouches were like a language all their own. One I was slowly becoming fluent in.

  With all of us in tenuous agreement, Lorcan and I ran after our swiftly departing ghost. It wasn’t hard to catch up to her, exactly, but I did find myself a little envious of how effortless it was for Lorcan. He looked like he was barely exerting himself, and he for sure never broke a sweat.

  The spook didn’t reach her destination until we were right at the edge of Haven Hollow. Right on the edge, to the point where I wasn’t certain if we were still in the town or not. But standing in front of us, its face lit with a couple of spotlights, was a massive hotel. And one that had never stood there before, as far as I knew.

  “What the… what?” I started, shaking my head at it.

  I had to bite back the urge to whistle as I looked up and up and then kept right on looking up. There were so many floors, at least twenty and maybe even more. All the windows were huge, and sparkling with the brightness from the spotlights. The front awning looked like it was made outta a burnished nickel, and the double doors were set with a bold, geometric design in black and silver. Instead of flowers, the front gardens had metal statues of abstract curves and angles. It was, without a doubt, the ritziest place I’d seen in years.

  Which was kind of a problem. Because I was ninety-nine percent sure there was no such a place in Haven Hollow. Or if there was, I’d never heard of it or seen it and no one had ever mentioned it.

  Have you seen this place before? I asked my co-pilot.

  Can’t say that I have.

  The ghostie vanished through the front doors of the hotel, though they never opened. I lost track of her energy almost immediately as soon as she walked through them. Not because her energy vanished, but because the whole building was putting off so many spook vibes, I was surprised the place wasn’t glowing. It was like trying to pick out a single trumpet in the middle of a huge brass band.

  What the hell is that? Cain sounded as baffled as I felt and I had to figure he was talking about the feeling the place was emitting—it felt… off. It feels… He trailed off, but I knew what he meant. The whole thing gave me the jitters. And that same sort of tugging feeling I’d felt before suddenly hit me again—tugging me even harder. This time, towards the front doors of the hotel.

  I glanced at Lorcan, and he seemed at least as taken aback as I was. So, I wasn’t the only one surprised by the huge hotel popping up like a daisy at the edge of town.

  “You ever seen this place before?” I asked.

  “Most certainly not,” he answered, his peepers wide. Lorcan fiddled with the cuff of his coat sleeve, face wary. He glanced at me, but seemed unwilling to take his eyes off the building for any length of time. “Did you know it was here?”

  “No siree. I ain’t never seen it before.” I shook my head, my hair sliding around my face. “The whole place is putting off a ton of spook energy, though. I bet our perp’s inside.”

  Cain snorted. No one actually says perp, Darla. You’ve been watching too much tv.

  I didn’t respond because I was too busy watching Lorcan, who was too busy taking a deep breath he didn’t even need. He shook his head. “Going in blind would be foolhardy.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but, “Everything is so loud in there, I can’t get a read on any particular energy. Plus, the drapes are all pulled. I dunno how we’d get a look inside without actually going inside.”

  Lorcan didn’t argue my point, but his kisser twisted like he wasn’t none too happy about it. “I’ll go in and make sure it’s not a trap.”

  “Wait,” I gaped at him. “You might be a big-timer vampire, but I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.”

  “We’re hunting a ghost killer,” Lorcan said, eyeing the building and then me. “Not a vampire slayer, my dear. I doubt such a creature would have any interest in me.”

  “But—”

  “You can follow me in once I make sure nothing is lurking there, waiting to ambush you.”

  I still didn’t like it. My hands were clammy with sweat, but I took a breath and nodded.

  Let him go, for God’s sake! Cain yelled at me. Better his ass than yours!

  “Okay,” I said and swallowed hard. It wasn’t that Cain had talked me into it or that I thought it was better to put Lorcan’s shapely ass on the line instead of mine—I just figured Lorcan had a good point about him most likely being safe since he wasn’t anything close to a spook.

  I followed him up to the doors of the hotel, walking so close I coulda been his shadow. I was beyond scared that something was gonna shoot out and drag Lorcan inside, and then I’d have to tell Wanda I’d lost him, which was even scarier than a ghost-eating hotel might be.

  I knew it was silly—the chances of something coming outta the dark to take Lorcan to god only knew where were slim. It was just a building… probably. This was what happened when you watched too many hours of the Twilight Zone, and the Outer Limits, and just about any horror movie on the tele.

  Lorcan reached out and gripped the black lacquered door handle that blended into the door so well at first, I hadn’t even noticed it. He paused, and gave the handle a light tug, like he half expected it to be locked. But the door opened real easy like, spilling light and the wailing lament of a saxophone into the night.

  I gave Lorcan an almost three second head start. He barely had time to glance around before I was following him inside. He shot me a look, but I barely noticed it, staring around the hotel lobby with my kisser hanging open instead.

  This place was… well, ‘ritzy’ didn’t even start to describe it. I felt like I’d just walked on the set of The Great Gatsby. It had that sort of over-the-top glitz to it. The lobby had a monochrome feel, the floor a checkerboard of large black and white tiles, but every once in a while, there was a much smaller tile in mercury that overlapped the corners of four of the bigger tiles. The walls were white, with real nice silhouette paintings all done up in black and white, but each picture had an almost hidden dash of red in it. There was a sitting area with a white upholstered couch and chairs, and the front desk itself was a work of art, all made up of angled strips of silver metal.

  Jazz hung in the air, soft enough to be able to hold a conversation, but loud enough that it was easy to hear. Over on the far side of the huge lobby was a kind of recessed area with a billiard table. A man in a high-waist suit was playing a game, while off to the side two women in short, heavily fringed dresses, one in blue, the other in violet, drank martinis while playing a game of poker.

  I blinked for a second as a wave of nostalgia rushed over me. It was all so familiar, it was like I’d been transported back a century and was on my way to some Hollywood party. The music, the décor, the clothing, it all made my chest feel tight with something like longing. The modern world was pretty amazing, especially since I was alive enough to enjoy it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss the things that were familiar to me.

  “Well, I believe we’ve found all your missing spirits,” Lorcan said as he glanced around himself.

  And that was when I noticed them—so many spooks walking this way and that, all dressed in various outfits that would have been in vogue years and years ago. They were on the staircase, dancing on the dance floor, flocking to the bar, standing and talking in the lobby. I wasn’t sure how I didn’t notice them before but I sure noticed them now.

  As I stood around, gawking, I felt out of place in my yoga pants and zip-up sweatshirt. That was a first—being too modern for the dress code. Anyhoo, there was a concierge behind the front desk, and he glanced up from his newspaper as we stepped further inside the lobby.

  Now, as an aside, there are some people who are just so darn ritzy, they kinda shock you silly, and that fella behind the counter was one of them. His hair was dark and glossy, swept back from his face. The line of his jaw was sharp and square, his cheekbones high. His lips had that little hint of Cupid’s bow that I just loved on a fella—lips that were just made for kissing. I couldn’t have guessed his ethnicity if someone bet me on it: his skin was a warm brown that coulda come from the sun, or it coulda just been his natural tone.

  Cain and Lorcan were both cake-eaters, don’t get me wrong. But compared to this fella behind the counter, it was like comparing hewn granite with polished marble. He just had this extra something that took him to his own level. Just looking at him was like taking a slug of the giggle water.

  When he glanced at me, I had to take in a shaky breath. His peepers were a rich amber color, so vivid I could see them from across the lobby. They were fascinating, I’d never seen eyes like that on anyone, not in a hundred years.

  Lorcan took a step forward, and froze in his tracks, just staring at the fella at the front counter. He blinked a few times, and I thought he mighta been having a bit of the same trouble I was. Heck, even Cain was struck dumb, which was rare enough that part of me wanted to ask the gentleman if he’d teach me that trick.

  Lorcan seemed to recover first, giving himself a shake before stalking towards the front desk and the fella seated behind it.

  “Who are you?” the good vampire dentist demanded. His arm made a short, sharp motion towards the people in the lobby. “And what are you doing with this town’s ghosts?”

  The fella’s eyebrow twitched, just the barest flicker, but otherwise his expression didn’t change in the face of the vampire’s anger.

  The fella set his newspaper down and folded his hands together like uptight vamps didn’t bother him none. His voice was real calm and smooth as dark velvet when he said, “You may either apologize for your haranguing tone or you can be escorted out.”

  Lorcan took another step forward, his face tense. His lips parted just enough to show the barest hint of his fangs. His lips twitched up, the expression nowhere near kind enough to be a smile.

  “I can hear your heart beating and that can only mean one thing. You’re human, or close to it.”

  The fella’s lips twisted up into a brittle smile, like it pained him to bother himself with Lorcan. He raised one hand and made a gesture, almost a wave.

  And Lorcan just disappeared.

  As in one second he was there and the next, he wasn’t.

  What in the bloody hell? Cain started.

  I shrieked, clasping my hands over my kisser as soon as I realized I was only drawing more attention to myself. But where was Lorcan? And what in the heckety heck had just happened? My knees were watery, and I could barely keep them from knocking together when the fella behind the desk turned those amber eyes on me. The only thing that kept me from collapsing like a puddle right there on the floor was that smile of his. It warmed me from my head to my toes.

  You be careful, Darla, Cain warned. I don’t trust this guy one bit.

  “Is…” My voice came out in a shaky croak. I had to clear my pipes before I could try again. “Is he dead?”

  The fella snorted. “Of course, he’s dead, my pet. He’s a vampire.” He shook his head, looking displeased. “I can’t stand the bloodsuckers,” he grumbled. “They’re all damned cheats.”

  I sucked in a steadying breath and grabbed on to my courage with both hands. “Who are you?”

  The fella tilted his head, his smile widening into the devil’s own grin. With one long finger, he tapped at the little silver name tag pinned onto his vest. “Can’t you read, sweetheart?”

  My head was screaming at me to run, to just get outta there as quickly as I could, but I found myself taking a step forward until I was close enough that I could peer at the tag.

  Black spots danced over my vision and my legs trembled as I read the name.

  Death.

  Chapter Eight

  My feet were rooted to the spot.

  It was all I could do to stay standing, and not collapse onto the floor. I had to swallow twice before I could get my voice to unstick. “Death?”

  He looked at me with a real patient expression on his face. “That’s right.”

  “Is… is this some kind of bad joke?”

  The fella shrugged, eyes half-lidded, looking lazy. “I’m an aspect of death, shall we say? In order to be everywhere at once, Death splits himself into many forms, and each incarnation is given a duty to perform. I,” he placed a hand on his chest, long fingers splayed out against the silver and black fabric of his vest. “Am the one who collects the stragglers in this corner of the world.”

  Stragglers.

  “The spooks who have been disappearing around Haven Hollow,” I started, but he nodded, interrupting me.

  “They’ve simply been heeding my call.”

  I didn’t know what to say—I was definitely behind the eight ball. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. What were you supposed to say to Death? Even if he was just an ‘incarnation’ of the whole (whatever the heck that meant), he was still Death! The Grim Reaper himself! Though he didn’t look particularly grim, with that crooked little grin on his face as he gave me a once over.

  I drew in a real shaky breath, trying to get my thoughts to stop whirling around my head like a gal who’d had one too many and was now out on the roof. Cain was still suspiciously quiet, but that was probably for the best. My head was already a big ol’ mess, I didn’t need more company to add to the party.

  It was all just too big. Too much for my pea brain to deal with at the moment. So, I focused on the smaller details—the one my gray matter seemed to follow.

  “I’m sorry, but do you have a name?”

  “A name?” Death smiled real big—like this wasn’t a question most folks asked him.

  “Well, yeah, it ain’t like I can go ‘round calling you ‘Death’ now can I?”

  “‘Death’ is technically my name.”

  “Well, I’m changing it,” I answered real quick. “How about I call you… Damon?”

  Damon. It was a nice name. A nice, human name. Regardless, I couldn’t deal with having a conversation with some fella named Death, even if that’s who he really was, but chatting with a mac named Damon? Sure, why not?

  He gave another lazy shrug, and the letters on his nametag actually started moving around until they spelled out ‘Damon’. That was a pretty neat trick, even if it made me shiver.

  Which it did.

  All of a sudden, the ground rippled under my feet, and the walls started to blur like I was moving real fast. My stomach lurched at the sensation of falling, and I found myself seated on plush upholstery—all of this happened within a blink. Breathless, I braced my hands against the red velvet of the cozy booth, trying to figure out what in tarnation had just happened.

  The hotel lobby was gone, just like that. And now I was seated in a restaurant, from the looks of it. Intimate booths lined the walls, with a few glossy black tables scattered around the floor. The lights were low, white candles on every table providing a warm glow and making each seat feel like a little oasis in the shadows, while soft violin music ghosted through the air.