My heart tried to do a barn swallow straight up my throat, and I swallowed carefully around the blockage.

  Easy, Cain said, gruff but not unkind. You’ve got this. Don’t let the jerk see you’re nervous.

  Who wouldn’t be nervous playing a game against Death, I thought back at him in a hiss. Idiots, that’s who!

  Okay, okay. Be nervous, then. Cain couldn’t actually hold up his hands or back away slowly while he was inside my body, but he still gave a darn good impression of it. Use it to get him to underestimate you. Weren’t you an actress?

  Yeah.

  Then play your part.

  He might be a big, grouchy bluenose, but Cain wasn’t dumb. And he wasn’t wrong, either.

  I pulled in a deep breath, and let it out slowly through my sniffer. Another role, that was one way to think about it. I could do that.

  “Hey,” Henner started as he glanced around. “Where did all these cats come from?”

  ***

  Damon was waiting for us just inside the doors, his burning golden peepers just as intense as I remembered them. He was dressed in black from head to toe, shirt, jacket and pants, and it somehow acted to frame his face, making the sharpness of his cheekbones, the strength of his jawline, look starker, even more handsome than I remembered them and him.

  He smiled as we approached, full lips twisting up lazily. “Darla, lovely to see you again.” His peepers remained on me until he realized I had a traveling circus with me. Then he looked around himself with what appeared to be surprise. “I wasn’t expecting this to be a group event.”

  His tone was mild, friendly, even as he welcomed me and all my friends into the lobby. As everyone entered, I could see them craning their necks to take in all the splendor of the place. But I kept my gaze firmly glued to Damon. And his peepers were firmly planted on me. But his gaze dropped to where Henner still held my hand, and the death glare he gave Henner scared me so bad, I squeezed hard enough that it had to hurt. Henner didn’t make a sound of complaint, though. He just tightened his fingers reassuringly, and he didn’t seem intimidated by Death at all.

  “I see you’ve brought an entourage,” Damon said.

  “Did you really think we’d let her come and face you alone?” Henner didn’t raise his voice, but it still managed to cut through the air between us.

  Damon gave him a look. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it was still considering. “No. No, I didn’t.”

  Damon then turned back to me, his expression warming by a magnitude. “But be that as it may, this is a bargain between Darla and myself. No one else.”

  Angry mutterings rose up from the people around me in protest, and Damon silenced them by just raising his hand. “I’m not unreasonable. I’ll allow you to bring three of your friends to accompany you for our game.”

  “Three?”

  “No more, no less.” He smiled at me, and I shivered. His voice was smoky gray velvet when he murmured, “Choose carefully, Darla.”

  This was it. I gave Henner’s hand a squeeze, and he nodded and released it as he stepped back. He didn’t look particularly happy about it, but he went without complaint. As much as I wanted him to stay with me, I needed to be very strategic with my choice.

  “Poppy, Finn, and Taliyah,” I said, as calmly as I could. The three of them stepped forward, Finn sticking close to his ma. Sometimes he seemed a lot older than his thirteen years, but seeing him standing there now, his eyes wide, his freckles standing out like ink on pale skin, was a swift kick to remember he was barely a teen. Way too young to ever brush shoulders with Death. I hated to put Finn in this position—I hated it that I didn’t have a better option.

  “I need your word,” I said, pulling Damon’s attention back to me.

  “My word?” he repeated.

  I nodded. “I want your word, in front of all my witnesses, that no matter what happens with our game, no matter what happens between you and me, that you will allow all these folks to leave, just the exact same as they entered.”

  He barely looked over the crowd—scanning them with his eyes before they returned to me. “You have my word—just as I gave it to you earlier.”

  “Your word that everyone I brought with me will be safe?” I repeated, just to make sure he wouldn’t turn my words around on me later.

  Damon nodded as a smile took over his lips. “Does that include the cats?”

  I glanced behind myself and noticed four of the cats had followed us inside and were now sitting on the lobby floor, licking themselves and paying Death absolutely no attention. I faced Damon again. “Including the cats.”

  Damon looked over my selected entourage once more, his eyes lingering on Taliyah for a long moment. He didn’t comment, just raised an eyebrow at me. “Interesting selection.”

  I tilted my chin up. “They’re my family. I want them here with me. Until the end.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He was Death.

  He’d seen every iteration of loss and grief, of fury and resentment that stretched beyond life and refused to let go. Damon knew spooks, knew the things that made them utterly unwilling to move on from the world they’d left behind. I knew he’d understand my point. Yes, I was still hoping to pull it all off, to win my bargain with him. But I also wasn’t lying. If I couldn’t win, if this was it, I wanted my family with me for it. Something I never got the last time around.

  I ran my thumb over Cain’s class ring. If I lost, I was hoping I’d be able to toss the ring to Taliyah, so she could at least get her brother to safety before he got himself reaped by being a stubborn, loyal, idiot.

  Damon beckoned. “Let’s get started.”

  With my head held high, I approached him. I felt the others close behind me, but I didn’t look back. I was afraid if I saw all my friends who were still lingering in the lobby, I’d cry and that would not only ruin my make-up, but it would also make me look like a dope.

  So even when I felt the doors fall closed behind us, leaving just Poppy, Finn, Taliyah and me, I didn’t turn around. Instead, my heels clicked against the black, white, and mercury tiled floor as I strode after Damon. He paused long enough for me to catch up to him and crooked his elbow at me, inviting me to take his arm like a real gent.

  With no real urge to pick a fight with capital D Death until I absolutely had to, I slid my arm into his, resting my fingers on a surprisingly toned bicep. He flashed me a crooked smile that reminded me sharply of Rudolph Valentino in his glory days, and I had to swallow carefully before I did something real embarrassing. Like squeak. Or drool.

  Really, Darla? Cain piped up from inside me.

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I felt relieved to hear the combined footsteps of Taliyah, Finn and Poppy right behind us. As to Death, he didn’t seem to notice them or if he did, he paid them no mind. He seemed to only have peepers for me.

  “I’ve been looking forward to our match, Darla,” Damon Death said in his deep, purring voice. His smile flashed strong white teeth. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.” Then he took a gander at me, like he’d forgotten to earlier. “Did you wear that dress for me?”

  “No, I did not.”

  He laughed. “You know, we don’t have to play this out.”

  “Play what out?”

  “If you agree, we can just skip to the end and start getting to know each other better.”

  “Skip to the end, as in you don’t think I’m gonna best you?”

  He had the good sense not to answer.

  As to me, I was grateful for my dress. Part of me had been worried that the second I crossed the hotel’s threshold, I’d be back in that same, pink silk drop-waisted gown I’d died in. And that would have cheesed me off for multiple reasons. Partly because, holy cats, I’d spent hours getting ready, and I hated a wasted effort. And partly because… it woulda felt like being reduced. Like, with a wave of his hand, Damon could turn me back into poor little Darla Fenton, killed at the hand of her no good, thug of a sweetheart.

  But I wasn’t that person anymore. I was now Darla Rowe. I wasn’t alone and forgotten. I had a job I loved, and I had friends who loved me, and I had me a life. I wasn’t gonna give any of it up without one heck of a fight.

  I gave Damon a look outta the corner of my eye. “Oh, we’re playing, buster. And I’m planning on winning, so you’d better watch out.”

  Dark head thrown back, Damon laughed. The sound surprised me enough that only my grip on his arm kept me from jumping. I’d expected arrogance, or even irritation, but he seemed genuinely delighted with my response. Which was odd, because I figured as Death, he got to play lots of matches and tournaments where the winning prize was someone’s life.

  Damon musta seen the look on my face, because he patted my hand. “Nothing worth having was ever won easily, Darla.”

  It was a real struggle not to roll my peepers. “Cut the small talk and let’s get down to brass tacks.”

  “Of course.”

  Damon led us through an arched doorway I hadn’t seen on my previous visit. Poppy, Taliyah and Finn were still behind us, though not one of them said a thing. No doubt, they probably still couldn’t believe they were here—in the Hotel de Death.

  The room we entered into was enormous, at least two stories with a wraparound second floor that was supported by thick marble columns and looked down into the main room. The carpet was the scarlet of fresh blood, the furniture all gleaming black lacquer or upholstered in monochrome chevrons. Huge, multi-tiered chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals sending bits of fractured light dancing around the room. And in the center of it, there was a black table with a red felted surface, all laid out with gleaming silver and gold chips and a deck of cards. It was like something you woulda seen back when I was alive the first time—something right outta 1920s Hollywood.

  As to the deck of cards, there was no makers mark on them. The backs were just solid black, like they’d been chiseled outta obsidian, like they were Death’s own deck.

  I swallowed, hard enough that it hurt.

  Ghosties crowded the upper level of the room, pressed against the railings to look down on everything. There were so many of them, all pressed together, that it was actually hard to pick out individual faces. They all blended together into a kind of amorphous fog, with details only briefly coming to the surface. A torn poodle skirt here, a bloody monocle there. Long tangled hair, frightened dark eyes, a silver pocket watch with a rusty looking spring bulging out of it. Top hats, bonnets, no hats, a mop of previously owned hair on some old man’s head.

  Spooks didn’t bother me, as a whole. I mean, it woulda been pretty hypocritical of me if they did. But the crowd silently watching from above kinda drove home exactly what I was fighting for. This wasn’t just about me. This was about giving people’s spirits time to heal enough that they could move to the beyond at their own pace. It was about saving the ghosties of Haven Hollow as much as it was about saving myself.

  Damon handed me into my seat, and then slid me closer to the table with effortless ease. He took his own place across from me, smiling. Poppy, Finn and Taliyah stood to one side, with Finn standing closest to Damon. It was clear Poppy wasn’t comfortable with his proximity to the Gentleman of Forever, what with the way her hand clutched at Finn’s shoulder, but where he’d chosen to stand would allow me to see him clearly, while he’d be in Damon’s peripheral.

  Which reminded me.

  I fixed Damon with my most serious look. “Remember your word.”

  Damon arched a single brow at me, his lips quirking up at the corner. “I recall.”

  “Just so we’re on the same page.”

  That grin broadened. “I would like us to be even closer on the page.”

  “Now, you see here, Damon Death Dealer,” I started.

  One tan, long-fingered hand came up in what was meant to be a calming gesture, but failed. “Easy, easy.” He smiled, golden eyes twinkling. “Damon Death Dealer,” he then said, nodding. “It’s got a certain ring to it.”

  It was then I noticed that his nametag read ‘Damon’ just as it had the last time I was here. I let out the breath I’d been holding long enough that it hurt.

  “Now.” Damon tilted his chin down and gave me a challenging look. “Are you ready to play?”

  My heart seemed to have shot up my throat, and I couldn’t squeeze my voice out around its beating weight, so I just nodded.

  A spirit appeared at the head of the table, and I twitched in surprise. He was dressed something like a waiter or an old timey saloon keeper, with dark slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. A crimson vest covered his chest and there were black bands holding his sleeves tight to his biceps. Only the flat gray of his peepers, and the bloodless bullet hole in his forehead marked him as one of the restless dead.

  The ghostly dealer lifted the deck and began shuffling with quick, neat movements. Five cards went to each of us, and when I rested my fingertips on them, they were as cold as chips of ice.

  “Let the game begin, Darla.” Damon flashed me a grin. The look in his eyes was a little too hungry to be human. “Winner takes all.”

  ***

  “Three kings,” Damon purred as he laid his hand down onto the scarlet felt of the table.

  Unfortunately, glaring at my measly pair of twos didn’t magically transform them into a better hand. I tried not to let the pounding of my heart intimidate me and I tried not to cry as I laid those cards down, and watched the dealer sweep the little pile of chips over to Damon’s side of the table.

  I knew I was getting a little low on chips myself, but I forced myself not to look at the dwindling pile. It wouldn’t do me any good. Panic rarely leads to good decisions, after all.

  At least Damon didn’t gloat. He had that going for him.

  Without a word, the spook dealer shuffled the deck and laid out our new hands. I tossed in a silver chip as my initial bet, and Damon matched it. My two chances to discard helped a little, but not as much as I was hoping for. All the while, my heart continued to pound and the small of my back continued to sweat.

  Calm down, Cain breathed from within me. It’s not over yet.

  I stared down at my hand of cards and fought the urge to fidget. I hadn’t done as terribly as I’d thought I would, considering I’d only been playing for a little more than a day. Either lady luck was on my side, for once, or Damon was just stringing me along. Maybe he was trying to lull me, or get my hopes up, just so he’d pull off the big win at the end.

  Remember what we talked about, Cain continued.

  He was right, and I gave myself a little mental shake to get my head back in the literal game. This was the role of a lifetime, and possibly the end of one if I didn’t keep it together. If I’d never given a real solid performance before, I had to now. My life depended on it.

  A pair of tens and a pair of queens stared back at me, and I wanted to chew my lip so bad, I had to grind my molars together so hard, they squeaked. But doing so kept me from giving off a tell. Biting my lip meant I was unsure, something that Damon’s blazing golden eyes would notice with obvious satisfaction.

  It wasn’t a bad hand. But it wasn’t a great hand, either, and we were too closely tied for me to want to go throwing precious chips away on something that was so wishy washy, especially with Damon looking so relaxed across the table from me.

  He lazily tossed a gold chip into the growing pile in the middle of the table. “Raise.”

  He was so darn confident, almost lazy, like he didn’t have a doubt of his win.

  Off to the side, Finn scratched his nose.

  I went still, my heart thumping double time in my chest. That was it, that was the signal we’d agreed on during our training sessions. A natural, easy gesture that was totally in place for a bored teen.

  Damon was bluffing.

  He was also watching me intently, his eyes narrowed. A paranoid part of me wondered if he knew, if he could hear my heart doing its best maraca impression. I lowered my eyelids, peering up through my lashes to try and hide the excited gleam, and very deliberately bit my lower lip.

  Damon’s eyes gleamed.

  I hesitated another few seconds, but before Damon could open his mouth to prompt me, I tossed one of my own gold chips out into the pile.

  “Call,” I said as reluctantly as I could manage.

  We laid down our hands. He had a pair of jacks.

  “Two pair,” I said, trying to hide my elation. “Queens high.”

  Damon frowned, his brow wrinkling as the dealer pushed the pot to my half of the table. The little gold and silver chips immediately arranged themselves into stacks.

  Don’t lose yourself, Cain warned. Stay in the game. Stay focused.

  I couldn’t hide my smile. With that win, I’d pulled just a little bit out ahead of Damon. And that meant one thing: I could do it. I could beat Death. It was all I could do not to bounce out of my seat.

  A soft huff of laughter drew my attention across the table.

  “Has anyone told you you’re beautiful when you’re winning?” Damon gave me a full smolder, stroking his long fingers over the soft fabric of the table’s surface.

  I shot him a fierce little grin “Well, buckle up, buster. Because I’m about to be gorgeous.” No way was I letting some dime store cowboy sweet talk me into losing, even if he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in any lifetime. Shame he was also Death.

  I heard Taliyah snort before Damon threw back his dark head and laughed from his belly.

  “You really never cease to delight me, Darla. Are you sure you don’t want to just forfeit the game? Just come to my side willingly. I promise to cherish you for eternity.”

  What a line. I’d heard a dozen just like it in my first life. So what if this one made me shiver and look away from those scorching amber eyes? I glanced at Finn, partly to give myself some breathing room, and partly for confirmation about just how full of baloney Damon was.

  No nose scratch.