The tip of Damon’s tongue flicked against my lower lip, just a hint of heat, and I had to lock my teeth together to trap the sound threatening to slip outta my throat. That and I didn’t want his tongue burrowing into my mouth like a ferret hiding from a hawk. Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure whether ferrets burrowed but the point was still the same.

  When Damon finally pulled back, his burning peepers were half-lidded, and he focused on my face with an intensity that almost made me whimper. His fingers slid off my chin with a gentle caress that didn’t help matters at all. Not at all.

  My lips tingled, and I had to swipe my tongue over them before I could talk. Damon’s gaze dropped to my kisser again, and he got this expression like he wanted to take my lips out for another test drive. That almost made me forget what I was about to say.

  “And… no… no more of that,” I said.

  “No more of what?”

  “Stealing kisses.”

  He threw his head back and chuckled. “My my what a stern one you are.”

  “Can—” I swallowed, and tried again. My voice came out husky, lower than usual, no doubt because my brain was still replaying that kissing scene. “I want a day to prepare for our game.”

  He was silent, still staring at my mouth like he was expecting it to do a trick for him. For a second, I thought he wasn’t gonna answer me at all. He just had this distant, funny sort of expression on his face like he wasn’t paying me no mind. Finally, he dragged his peepers back to mine. His face looked sharper than before, like the skin was pulled taut.

  “We have a bargain, Darla.” He whispered into the space between us, the air heating in response. “Take your day to prepare.”

  “Wait,” I said even though he hadn’t made no motion to depart anywhere.

  “What, my dear?”

  “Um…” And just like that, the thought rode right outta my head. One second it was there and the next second it was in Kentucky. “Um…” He just smiled at me as I did something strange with my gams that made it look like I had to pee.

  Then I remembered my question. “What are we gonna play?” I nearly yelled the words at him. “What’s the game?”

  “Ah,” he answered with a self-satisfied little sound in his pipes. “The game we’ll be playing is poker.” Then he smiled, sharp and bright and hungry. “May the best player win.”

  ***

  Are you out of your mind?

  Cain raged at me the second we stepped outta the fancy dining room and back into the lobby of the hotel. No, I’m not outta my mind!

  Did you or did you not just make a deal with Death?

  Well…

  Everyone knows you don’t make deals with Death!

  I wasn’t sure everyone knew that or maybe I’d just missed the memo. Either way, I obviously wasn’t part of that ‘everyone’.

  It’s not deals with Death you gotta worry about, I yelled back at him as soon as I remembered the point I was trying to make. It’s deals with the Devil.

  And what’s the difference? Cain demanded.

  I humphed. There’s a big difference between Damon and the devil, I answered, hoping upon hope that I was right. What if there wasn’t a difference, and I’d just made a deal with Lucifer? What if Damon, Death and the devil were all one and the same? Truth be told, I wouldn’t have been that surprised to learn Damon was Lucifer and vice-versa—he just had a devilish sorta presence about him. It was a thought I didn’t have the strength to consider so I stopped it cold.

  All the spooks that had been socializing earlier had cleared out from the hotel, leaving the massive lobby deserted. I didn’t know where in the heck they’d gone to but I did take some relief in the fact that when I’d walked in here, them spirits had seemed pretty happy being in this hotel. I mean, I hadn’t seen any fearful faces or crying. Instead, they’d all seemed like they were socializing and having them a right good time.

  As I glanced around the empty room, somehow it felt more claustrophobic and threatening empty than it had when it was full of ghosties and Death was hanging out behind the front counter.

  Regardless, he’s Death and YOU DO NOT MAKE DEALS WITH DEATH!

  Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that.

  I’d heard a lot of different flavors of angry in Cain’s voice over the weeks we’d been stuck together. Everything from frustrated to seriously cheesed off. But there was a kind of edge to his words now that was an edge I hadn’t heard before. It took me a few long moments to realize the edge wasn’t anger at all, but actually fear. Cain was afraid for me. It made something in my chest clench tight.

  I can’t believe you just did that, he continued on.

  What exactly did you want me to do? I kept our conversation quiet, focusing my thoughts at Cain. I wasn’t sure if Death could read minds or not (he probably could), but considering Damon had made an entire hotel appear from thin air like a Vegas magic act, I was betting he could overhear any out-loud conversation I had, and I wasn’t gonna make it easy for him—especially since he hadn’t made that whole game bit easy for me. I mean—Poker? Who in the heck knew how to play that?

  Cain made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Did you think that maybe, I dunno, it would be good to try not making a bargain with the literal embodiment of Death?

  So, I was supposed to just, sit back, kick up my gams and let him keep ripping spooks outta Haven Hollow?

  Better them than you, Cain continued and I could tell by his voice that his kisser was locked up real tight.

  And you too… right? Or had he forgotten that he was a ghostie too.

  Death didn’t say that.

  Not in so many words, but you are a ghost. And I wish you’d call him ‘Damon’—at least he sounds more human then.

  That’s just the point, Dar-la, he retorted, saying my name like it was two separate words. He’s not human!

  Right well… while I’m apparently a bit of a supernatural gray area, it’s pretty clear that some people still consider me a ghost.

  No one considers you a ghost.

  I sighed. My heels sounded unnaturally loud against the black and white tile as I marched my way towards the lobby doors. I tried not to look at the front desk as I passed it, but I couldn’t help taking a glance. Part of me was afraid Damon would be there, watching me with those scorching amber peepers of his. But the area was as deserted as the rest of the lobby. Even the music had faded away. The place now felt abandoned.

  There was a little silver bell on the desk, and all I could think about was someone putting out a little hand written card beside it, ‘Ring for Reaping’. It was a struggle to swallow back the entirely inappropriate urge to giggle.

  That wasn’t funny, Cain continued to rain on my parade. Actually, it was more like he was raining on my grave.

  Look, here’s the thing. If I hadn’t made a deal, how would I have kept Damon from going after the people I—we—care about? People like Poppy and Finn? Henner? Taliyah and the boys?

  You don’t know that he would have gone after them.

  I cocked my head to the side and frowned. Did you miss that little part of the convo or what?

  Keep going, Cain grumbled.

  For that matter, what would have prevented Damon—

  Death, his name is Death.

  Death—from just keeping us both here?

  What do you mean—here?

  I looked around myself to make sure Cain was taking in every inch of this strange hotel. It sure seems like a ghostly ant-trap to me. As in—spirits check in, but they don’t check out.

  Your point?

  My point is you’re a ghost, I’m as good as, and he’s Death. I didn’t see a lot of options.

  Cain was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued, almost somber. Just remember, Darla. For all he complains about people cheating, Death is always a cheat himself. The house always wins, eventually.

  In spite of everything, a little smile curled the corner of my kisser. Anticipation fluttered in my guts and I wasn’t sure why because there was no way I shoulda been excited about playing a game with Death. Well, then. I guess I’ll just have to out cheat a cheater.

  Cain snorted. I got the impression he was shaking his head. Says the woman who doesn’t know what Poker is.

  My fingers closed around the elaborate black iron door handle. Do you know how to play?

  Of course.

  Hmm, then guess we’re gonna have us some card playin’ nights, Cain Morgan.

  Uneasiness prickled the back of my neck, trailing up onto my scalp as I almost defiantly yanked open the door. In spite of all my bravado, there was a part of me that was scared out of its wits that the door wouldn’t open, that I’d be stuck haunting yet another building, and while the hotel was certainly a ritzy upgrade to the house in Silverlake, I’d gotten used to going outside and talking to people again. I didn’t think I’d be able to bear it, having it all torn away again.

  Chapter Ten

  It seemed, at least on this topic, that Damon was on the up and up.

  The door opened smoothly under my hand. I staggered back a step at the lack of resistance. I guess I’d expected it to stick a little, or not open at all, but it opened just like any other normal, well-maintained door. Damon didn’t need any reason to flex his muscles. He knew I was coming back.

  The thought gave me the heebie-jeebies, the little hairs on my arms standing on end.

  After the dim light of the ivory and onyx hotel, stepping out into the bright sunlight was dazzling, and for more than one reason.

  I’d been totally unprepared for the bright light, so getting a face full of it had me blinking dark spots outta my peepers. But also, it had been just about three in the morning when I’d stepped into the hotel. Even if I was generous, and assumed I’d been inside for about an hour, the sun still shouldn’t have been up, let alone tilted down into the west like it was going to set again soon.

  Had time passed differently while I was inside the hotel? If I went by the angle of the sun, it looked like about twelve hours had passed. There hadn’t been any clocks inside the lobby, or the dining room for that matter. And it was true that ghosties didn’t really sweat stuff like time. After all, they were dead so what was time to them?

  I could only hope Lorcan had headed home, so he wasn’t now reduced to a charcoal briquette.

  I’d barely taken a step outside, when I realized two things. First, I was back in my yoga pants and sweatshirt. Second, there was a huge crowd of people milling around the front of the hotel.

  Poppy was there, with her son, Finn. Standing just beside them was Marty. And beside him was Wanda, with her arms crossed over her chest and the toe of one black leather boot tapping against the ground like she was late for a very important date. She was busy staring at the hotel like it had personally offended her and she was deciding exactly how she was going to dismantle it. Standing next to Wanda was Olga, Maverick, Astrid and Betanya—essentially Wanda’s entire coven. The only person missing was Wanda’s mannequin-turned-daughter whose name I’d purposely forgotten. No, I wasn’t jealous that Wanda had another daughter—as far as daughters went, I believed I was more Wanda’s daughter than that twit ever could be, namely because I was real. She was just plastic.

  Anyhoo, there was also Bailey, her white-blonde hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. She stood beside her new beaux, a fella named Syd who’d just moved to town and opened a mattress store. Roy, the owner of the Half-Moon, and our friendly sasquatch had his arm around Fifi, our succubus turned realtor. Even my old roommate, Libby, was there in her baby blue dress and pearls, wringing her hands like she had all the worries in the world on top of her narrow shoulders.

  In fact, most of the monsters of Haven Hollow were crowded around the hotel. Lorcan was the only notable absence, and that was only because he and sunlight didn’t exactly get along.

  I stood there, feeling like I’d just gotten my bell rung. Was this some kinda threat? Had Damon done something to the hotel, so it lured in all the supernaturals in town? Was this his way of showing me that all my friends were nothing but pawns to him?

  Before I could decide, Poppy cried out, “Darla!” and came running at me like she was playing offense and I was the ball. Finn was right on her heels.

  Their combined tackle might have knocked me on my behind if Cain hadn’t braced me for it. Poppy wound her arms around me, clutching like she was afraid I’d disappear if she didn’t hang on. Finn wrapped himself around my waist, his face pressed against my shoulder and that was really saying something because when I was a spook, Finn wanted nothing to do with me. Since becoming flesh and blood again, me and the kid had come a long way.

  “What’s the matter?” I patted their backs gently, alarmed. “What happened? I—are you crying?”

  I was aghast. Poppy was not weepy. I’d seen her face down a poltergeist in defense of her son. She’d stood up to wicked faeries, and helped banish a demon, and I’d never once seen her cry. So what in the blue blazes could have happened that was bad enough to bring her to tears?

  Almost a head shorter than I was, Poppy tucked her face against my collarbone and said something I couldn’t make out. It was a second later that Marty showed up behind her and pulled her off me and she turned her leaking nose to his shoulder.

  “She’s okay, Pops,” he kept whispering into her mess of blonde hair.

  “Poppy, everything’s jake,” I said, giving her a big smile even though the back of her head was the only thing facing me. Finn had released me and was now comforting his mama by patting her back. The kid wasn’t really a kid no more—at thirteen, he was almost as tall as me and easily had four inches on his ma.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” he said in a real soft voice.

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Tell me what happened?” I continued, feeling like I was gonna start sympathy crying if she didn’t stop, and Cain would never let me live that down.

  You’re right, he muttered from inside me. So don’t start any of that weeping business.

  “I thought you were dead,” Poppy choked out, more or less coherently as she pushed away from Marty’s shoulder and faced me. “I mean—for good this time. I thought you were gone.”

  I stared. “Why would you think that?”

  She finally let go and took a half step back to wipe her face with her sleeve. Finn stayed tucked against her side.

  In a more collected voice, Poppy said, “Lorcan came to get us last night. All of us.” She waved a hand at the crowd. “He said this… hotel was the place where ghosts were disappearing?” I nodded, and she looked flabbergasted. “I didn’t even know ghosts were disappearing. Anyway, Lorcan told us you’d gone in, and he couldn’t get you back out. He kept trying, until he realized the sun was going to come up, then he sent out the alarm. We tried everything, Darla—magic, potions, throwing things through the windows. Roy even tried ripping the front doors off the hinges, but nothing worked. We couldn’t get inside.”

  I looked out at the crowd. They were all here for me? They’d all noticed I was gone, and they’d come here to try and help me? A warm feeling bloomed to life inside my chest, spreading through my limbs like a flower unfurling its petals towards the sun. I hated that I’d worried them. I didn’t like being the cause of anyone’s tears. But it had been a long time since I’d had people to miss me, people who’d notice when I wasn’t around.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Wanda’s voice stomped down on my good feelings like her stiletto heel was puncturing my ticker. “Idiot!”

  “Wanda,” Poppy said in a soft tone.

  Wanda threw her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You went inside an unknown supernatural building, chasing missing ghosts, and you only took a useless vampire along with you as backup? Did your brain not resurrect with you?”

  The words were harsh, maybe even mean, but I smiled anyway. Wanda wasn’t good at showing concern for other people without considerable plausible deniability. I knew she was just worried and Wanda didn’t do good with worry.

  “It wasn’t Lorcan’s fault,” I protested. “He kinda got kicked right outta the hotel as soon as he walked in and then he couldn’t get back in again. Death doesn’t like vampires apparently.”

  “So we heard,” Wanda said and rolled her eyes as she tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder with a sharp gesture. “You might as well have taken a sack of leeches in with you, for all the good he did.”

  Part of me felt like I should have defended Lorcan. I mean, he had faced down literal Death on my behalf. But then another person pushed their way through the crowd.

  “Darla,” Henner said, his face creased with worry. “I’ve been worried sick.”

  I let him fold me into his arms and tucked my smile against the side of his throat. “Everything’s just daisies,” I said in a soft voice, even though everything wasn’t just daisies—not by a long shot. Everything was more like weeds.

  Cain made a disgruntled sound at the back of my head, no doubt annoyed at the romantic display between Henner and me, but I ignored him. I was too busy enjoying the feeling of Henner’s warm arms wrapped around me. The heat of his body made me realize just how chilly the inside of the hotel had been. But that cold that had seeped into my bones was now banished by sunlight and the concern of my friends, who had really become my family.

  “I’m okay,” I said a little louder so that the rest of the people assembled could hear me.

  Roy stepped forward then, big and tall, his shoulders almost three times as broad as my own. “What happened in there?” There was an undercurrent to his voice, almost a growl. The sasquatch was a little closer to the surface than normal. Fifi was right behind him.

  “That is a question and a half.” With a whole lot of reluctance, I released Henner and stepped back. Poppy and Finn stuck close by my side. Even Wanda was within arm’s reach, though she was pretending to be busy examining her flawless mauve nails and not paying attention to any of us.