“I don’t know. Anywhere really.”

  “Hmm, well, you know Haven Hollow… everything is closing right about now. The Half-Moon is really the only place open. We could head to Halcyon or another town nearby?”

  “Oh,” I said, but didn’t love that idea.

  “Or you can come to my house if you like, or we could go to yours? We can have a cup of coffee and talk about what’s bothering you.”

  “Won’t… won’t Poppy mind?”

  He looked at me and frowned. “Why would Poppy mind?”

  I cleared my throat and felt my cheeks burn. “Well, aren’t you guys together?”

  “Well, sure, but you and I are still friends, right?”

  I felt my heart drop at the admission that he and Poppy were an item. I wasn’t sure why I’d doubted it before—maybe just wishful thinking? “Yes, we are.”

  He gave me a big, goofy grin, and my heart dropped for the second time. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “So… your house or mine?”

  “Well, I live with Angelo,” I started. “And even though he’s supposed to be gone this weekend, sometimes he just pops in and out and he’s not exactly… easy to be around.”

  “Yeah, ‘easy’ isn’t Angelo’s strong point, is it?” Marty laughed. “My house it is then.”

  “Sure.” I replied.

  Before he put the hearse in gear, he fished out his cell phone and speed dialed someone, clicking on the speakerphone button. After the first ring, Poppy answered.

  “Hi, Pops, just wanted to let you know I’m gonna hang with Fifi for a little bit and then I was planning on coming over, if it’s not too late?”

  “Hi,” she answered. “No, it’s not too late. Finn will be in bed in about an hour so we can have some adult time,” she continued on a laugh.

  Marty echoed the laugh, and something inside me crawled back into its empty cave. I just… this was the sort of conversation I’d always wanted to have with Marty.

  Suck it up, buttercup, the succubus within me offered.

  “Oh, say hi to Fifi,” Marty said, as he turned to face me with a smile.

  “Hi, Fifi!” Poppy called out in her singsong voice. I responded in kind and we made a few pleasantries before Marty took over control of the call again, promising her he’d see her soon. Then he ended the call and all I wanted to do was go home and drink myself to sleep.

  But, such was not in the cards. Going to Marty’s house was now the plan of the hour, and I never thought I could be less excited about that prospect.

  Even though I was trying my best to suppress my feelings for Marty, since he and Poppy were now together, it wasn’t an easy feat. No matter who Marty was dating, I worried I’d always have feelings for him. The whole thing was silly, really, because I wasn’t even sure what the two of us together would even look like—how we could work. My appetite wasn’t exactly something Marty, as a human, could withstand.

  Still, I would take what I could get—as far as friendly companionship went. Since my attempt to talk to Roy had failed, it would be good to have someone else to confide in and who better than a man who spent most of his spare time investigating the paranormal? If anyone could understand what was going on with Rhea, it was Marty. At least, I hoped. If Rhea wasn’t a ghost though, and I still didn’t believe she was, then Marty wasn’t going to be much of a help.

  You don’t know what she was, Fifi, I insisted. So stay open-minded.

  I was tempted to begin telling him about my encounter with Rhea on the drive to his house, but I wasn’t certain that Lorcan wasn’t resting in the coffin behind us. Yes, it was dark and Lorcan was likely already out and about, but it wasn’t worth risking. Lorcan was a notorious gossip, and the last thing I needed was for him to overhear my conversation with Marty and start spreading rumors that Hallowed Homes was haunted. Such wouldn’t be good for our human clientele. Or, even worse, what if it got out that I was losing my mind? No, it definitely wasn’t the best of ideas for Lorcan to overhear anything, so I kept my mouth shut.

  If I was nervous at the bar or during the ride with Marty, I found my angst quadrupled as he parked the hearse and, opening my door for me, we started walking toward his house. My heart was racing as we stepped over the threshold and I found myself facing Marty’s house. The house itself was decidedly underwhelming, but that didn’t fully register as all I could think about was the fact that I was inside it... with Marty... just the two of us.

  Oh, Fifi, get a grip on yourself! Marty has a girlfriend, so it’s not like he’s going to make a move on you. This is just a meeting between friends—because he’s nice and cares about you. You’re lucky to have a friend like him… and a friend like Poppy too.

  That was true. And there was nothing I would ever do to jeopardize my friendship with Poppy. I refocused my energy on the house just to take my mind off the thoughts ramming into each other headlong.

  The pale grey A-frame was the average size of one purchased by young newlyweds without children. It wasn’t like one of those surprising houses that seemed much larger when you stepped inside, either. The interior was small, a bit claustrophobic, and decidedly bland.

  The decor screamed that it was inhabited by a middle-aged bachelor. The furniture was all mismatched but antique in appearance, as if picked up at assorted estate sales and thrift shops. Despite its age, it appeared to be in decent shape. The place seemed abnormally clean, almost unlived in. I could only assume Marty didn’t spend a great deal of time at home.

  No, he probably spends all his time at his girlfriend’s! I reminded myself, wanting to seriously beat home the fact that Marty and I were just friends and friends was all we would ever remain.

  I get it! I yelled back.

  So why did my stupid heart flutter every time he smiled at me?

  Just pay attention to the house, I responded as I did just that.

  The only exception to the perfect order of Marty’s home seemed to be a behemoth desk that took up almost an entire corner of the living room. Three large computer screens fanned out from the center. In front of them sat a keyboard, a mouse, and some sort of flat pad—maybe meant for drawing since I knew Marty was a graphic designer. Sticky notes clung to things all over the place, including the computer screen edges. The floor on one side of the L-shaped desk was stacked with books and papers.

  On the other side, the desk was flanked by a long wooden table. Situated on top was an assortment of electronics in the process of charging, no doubt for Marty’s next ghost hunting expedition. The trash can sitting beneath the table was almost full of takeout boxes. Marty might be a bachelor, but he led a busy life from all appearances—at least in this one corner of his den.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “I haven’t had time to go to the store, so all I can offer you is tap water, coffee or scotch.”

  “Coffee would be great.”

  “Black okay? I have sugar if you want, but not sure if I have any creamer. I might have some of the powdered stuff.”

  “Black is fine,” I replied.

  “Coming right up. Feel free to have a seat while I get the coffee going,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

  It occurred to me that maybe Marty did have intentions beyond just being a friend in asking me over, but then I immediately dashed those thoughts. Marty was the last person to cheat—he just didn’t have it in him. And, besides, there was no way I would ever do anything with him anyway, because I’d never condone that sort of behavior. Not to mention I’d also never do anything that might hurt my friendship with Poppy.

  What if she never found out?

  I felt my mouth drop open at the mere suggestion. It was my succubus side, of course—that side of me that was less concerned with moral obligations and more concerned with getting what she wanted 24/7.

  I will never do anything to upset Poppy! I thought back to myself. So stop even thinking such horrible, wrong and awful thoughts! Oh, I can’t stand you!

  Can’t stand me or not, this is your chance, Seraphina, that awful voice inside my head continued. Oh, how I hated it and her! You’re alone here in his house at his invitation. Would he invite you over if he didn’t have some interest in getting to know you on a more personal level? The question is: just how personal do you think he wants to get?

  Shut up! I yelled at myself.

  Really, it was my own fault for not feeding recently. If not for Roy, I’d likely not be feeding at all. I had no desire to drain unsuspecting men of their life force, especially not someone as sweet and kind as Marty.

  Not that it matters anyway because HE’S WITH POPPY!!!!!

  Yes, that was the end of it.

  Besides, I had a great thing going with Roy. Granted, he was only my friend, but still, I could always turn to him for feedings. He could withstand the draining of energy a lot more than most men. And it wasn’t like the feedings were… unpleasant. Roy was handsome and funny and kind, and I always enjoyed myself with him. And with Roy, I didn’t have to worry about hurting him physically. It was just always so damn awkward for me because there wasn’t supposed to be anything sexual between us and yet, feeding was a very sexual situation.

  “Here you go,” Marty said, offering me a mug of coffee before sitting down beside me on the sofa.

  Thank God he was oblivious to my awful thoughts as he plopped down on the opposite end of the sofa and turned slightly to face me. I took a sip of my coffee and sat the cup on a piece of broken slate from the quarry that appeared to be masquerading as a coaster on his coffee table.

  “So, what’s going on with you?”

  “I think I’m going crazy,” I blurted out, feeling relieved at just saying the words.

  “Oh, I knew that already,” he teased and then chuckled. But, I couldn’t say I was in a laughing mood, though I did try—just for his sake.

  “Very funny,” I said, giving him a little sad smile.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to belittle whatever is bothering you,” he offered. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  I took a deep breath. “Something very strange happened in my office today, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Okay?”

  I told him about my visit from Rhea and Bea’s reaction to her presence, or lack thereof. I paused as I finished to see how he was going to react, but he seemed lost in thought, more than judgmental or in disbelief.

  “Do you think I’m seeing things? I mean… no one else saw her and if she were a ghost or a spirit or something, as supernaturals, they should have been able to see her.”

  “Well, not all supernaturals can see spirits,” he pointed out.

  “True, but… Bea can and she couldn’t see this woman. That makes me wonder if maybe I’m just… going crazy.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe I’ve just been working too much and Rhea’s a figment of my overtired brain?”

  “Have you been feeding?”

  I swallowed hard. Why did everyone think anything and everything had to do with my… condition? It was frustrating, to say the least. “Well, I’ve fed here and there,” I started, unable to meet his eyes because I was suddenly uncomfortable. I didn’t like talking about my succubus needs. “Regardless, this isn’t… something that’s like a side effect of not feeding.” I took a breath and shook my head. “I’ve never hallucinated before.”

  “Okay.”

  And then something occurred to me. “Or maybe this is the first sign of what’s to come in my not accepting my succubus side fully? Maybe this is like the first step into a final descent into madness?”

  “Or maybe you’re jumping to conclusions?”

  I laughed but didn’t feel happy. “Maybe.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, appearing to be thinking about everything I’d said before he shook his head. Finally, he glanced toward his ghost hunting equipment and then back at me. “So you think it could have been a ghost?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I just keep getting caught on the fact that no one else could see her.”

  “You know spirits can choose who they appear to?” he asked, his eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

  “I actually didn’t know that.”

  He nodded. “Spirits have a lot more power and ability than you might think.” He nodded again and then continued. “You said the spirit, and let’s just call her that since I don’t know what else to call her—”

  “You could call her ‘Rhea’ since she said that was her name.”

  “Right… so Rhea was there in your office until Bea came in and then Rhea just vanished?”

  “Right.”

  He shrugged. “Sounds like a spook to me.”

  But, I wasn’t convinced. “I just… for some reason, I don’t think Rhea was a ghost. I couldn’t see through her—she looked as fleshly as you are.”

  “Ghosts don’t have to be see-through, Fifi.”

  I nodded and sighed. “I just… if she’d been a ghost, someone would have seen her—Bea would have seen her. Which leads me back to the fact that I must be going crazy. I can’t find any other explanation for it.”

  “Well, I think it’s better if we just go with the explanation that, for whatever reason, Rhea only revealed herself to you,” Marty insisted. “It’s definitely better than thinking you’ve lost the plot.”

  “That’s true, but how do I find out if that’s the case?”

  “My ghost hunting crew and I can come in and do some investigating into the Hallowed Homes offices,” he shrugged. “Maybe we can turn up something with our equipment.”

  I nodded. I was hoping he’d suggest as much. I wasn’t sure what it would accomplish, but at least it was a start. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t I swing by the office tomorrow?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  We stopped talking, and I took another sip of my coffee as Marty started talking about ghosts and I listened, finding his conversation somehow comforting. We talked for another twenty minutes or so about what his team could do to detect spirits in my office, if one even existed.

  Afterwards, Marty took me back to my Toyota 4Runner and dropped me off, waiting until I was safely inside and pulling out of my parking space before leaving himself.

  He was such a gentleman, and I found myself getting depressed all over again.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, I noticed the hearse as I was pulling in to the Hallowed Homes parking lot.

  My heart started to flutter, before I reminded myself Marty was here on business—to try to get any reading he could on Rhea. Even so, I wasn’t expecting to find him leaning against the side of the hearse with two takeout cups from The Broomstick in his hands.

  He was dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, with a large backpack sitting on the ground by his side. I was barely out of my car when he greeted me.

  “Good morning, Fifi.”

  “Good morning,” I answered as I exited my car, tossing my phone in the soft leather briefcase that doubled as my purse.

  As soon as I stood in front of him, I realized my nerves were also present and accounted for. Yes, I was always a bit skittish around Marty anyway, but seeing him first thing in the morning, with my succubus rousing from her nightly slumber, only made me more anxious.

  I bet he’s delicious.

  Probably, but we aren’t going to find out.

  Ugh, you’re such a bore.

  “You ready to find some ghosts?” he asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answered on a laugh.

  Marty looked particularly handsome this morning, and I had to inwardly chastise myself for noticing, not to mention I had to remind myself for the umpteenth time that he and Poppy were a thing now. No matter what I told myself, though, I couldn’t seem to keep the butterflies in my stomach at bay. It was like I somehow had managed to get even more into him than I already had been. Had I really grown this much more smitten with him overnight?

  God, I’m hopeless.

  I was doing my best not to make a fool out of myself—or a bigger fool, as the case might be, but Marty wasn’t making it easy. He smiled and shot me a playful wink that melted me on the spot.

  I felt like some junior-high girl who’d just found herself in an unexpected conversation with the senior quarterback. I didn’t know what to say or do. I was just frozen to the spot. I could feel my succubus continuing to stir, trying to push me out of my momentary paralysis, trying to push for things that could and would never be between Marty and me.

  And, as usual, I hated her for it.

  Marty stretched out his arm, offering me one of the cups of coffee, and I managed to finally break free of his spell. If I wasn’t sure he was human, I’d wonder what sort of magic he was using on me.

  “You brought coffee?” I asked stupidly.

  Obviously he brought coffee!

  “Yes. Black. I did grab some cream and sugar if you want it. I’ve got it in a bag in my backpack,” he told me, sitting his own coffee on the hood of the hearse and slinging the backpack up beside it.

  The windows on the hearse were tinted and the curtains in the back were drawn, but I assumed Lorcan was asleep inside. If so, Marty wouldn’t stay long. His job was to move Lorcan around as much as possible from sunrise to sundown. I’d even heard stories that Lorcan had insisted Marty not stay in one place longer than five minutes. While that might have sounded like an exaggeration, when it came to Lorcan, one could never be sure.

  “Thank you,” I said, finally remembering my manners. Then I swallowed hard when I felt my cheeks heating, even though I wasn’t sure why they were heating. This was just what Marty did to me. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you quite this early,” I chirped.

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get here before your employees arrived and set up some equipment in case your visitor comes back today.”

  “Equipment?”

  “Yes. I have an EMF meter, a couple voice recorders, and specialized, highly sensitive cameras. Oh, and a FLIR.”

  “A what?”

  “Forward Looking Infra-Red,” he answered on a laugh. “It’s basically a camera that can record drops in ambient room or air temperature.”