“That question sounds vaguely philosophical,” I answered. “You should put it on a T-shirt and mass market it. You’d make a killing.”

  “Oh, the incessant twittering from the peanut gallery grows increasingly dull,” Lorcan sniffed. “Very well, I shall play your game, oh, ye of great wit: where is my body?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  He further frowned up at me in that goosely way of his. “If your theory is correct, beast, my body should be in this town… somewhere.” Then he threw his wings up as if to say he was at a loss. “It feels as though we’ve searched the entire Hollow and yet I am nowhere to be found! Blast!”

  I nodded. “Yes, it would appear the Hollow is Lorcan-less. And a few days ago, I’d have said we’d be better off for it.”

  “And now?”

  “Well, it seems you’ve got one admirer in Wanda, so I’m doing this for her sake, not yours.”

  “Balderdash!” Lorcan quaked. “I will have you know I have more than one admirer!” he said, his pink feathers puffing out around him as he attempted to stand up straight as possible. “I believe I have at least three, possibly four if you include that Henner fellow who doesn’t think I’m half-bad.”

  Lorcan appeared a bit ruffled around the edges. Tie a red bow around his neck and he’d double as a Valentine’s Day gift.

  But, still, the question remained: Where was Lorcan’s body? I’d searched his numerous properties from top to bottom, even going so far as to use one of his shirts to better track his scent. But nothing. The only discoveries I’d made at his various residences were best left forgotten. There were some things you just didn’t want to know about another person, especially someone you weren’t especially fond of to begin with.

  Lorcan’s body wasn’t in his office either, nor any of the shops in town, and as far as I could smell, he wasn’t in any of the other homes either. It was like he’d disappeared—like the heavens had finally realized what a cosmic screwup he was and came to claim him—straight out of the ether. Maybe we’d been wrong about figuring the goose was occupying Lorcan’s body since Lorcan was occupying that of the goose. Maybe the truth was more along the lines of Lorcan being in possession of his own body, but so fundamentally altered, that there was nothing to be done for him? I was actually hoping for the former. A body swap would be the easiest to reverse.

  “There’s one place we haven’t looked, you know,” Lorcan began in an offhand tone, in his Donald Duck voice, that I distrusted immediately.

  “And where is that?”

  “My magnificent body might well be in the offices of your lady love.”

  “First off, your body isn’t magnificent—not by a long shot. You’re more like an emaciated, emo kid with bad hair. Secondly, Fifi is not my lady love—we’re… we’re just friends, and thirdly, why the hell would your body be at Hallowed Homes? I’m pretty sure Fifi would have called us if you’d wandered in, acting like a complete nutcase.”

  “Why are we assuming the goose would act like a nutcase? Perhaps some of my culture and sophistication has leaked into his soul and, thus, he’s now hosting thrilling discussions regarding classic literature and rhetoric?”

  I frowned at him. “Not likely.”

  He sighed. “Returning to your comment about my emaciated body and the bit about the emu,” he started and then appeared to frown, clearly not drawing a parallel between himself and an oafish bird. “What I lack in muscle, I make up for in technique.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Quite so, you onerous mass, the vampire is a lover quite unlike any other.”

  “And that’s a thought I really don’t want in my head.”

  “Regardless, I do believe we should check for my body at the succubus’ place of work. I should warn you though that, if my body is there, you should try to keep your cool.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because who knows what level of undress I am currently in? You and I are well aware of that lovely woman’s penchant for sexual activity…”

  I felt an angry growl start up within my gut and had to remind myself I was talking to a goose who had accidentally been dyed pink.

  “Fifi has zero interest in sleeping with you, bird brain!”

  “Ha-ha, very cute,” Lorcan frowned up at me.

  “You might think you’re God’s gift to women,” I continued. “But you’re the only one. So, keep your beak shut about Fifi if you want to ever become a real boy again.”

  Lorcan just laughed, and it was then I realized he’d just been goading me—trying to get me to crack. Well, it had worked.

  “You’re smitten, Osbourne, just admit it.”

  “I’m not smitten. I already told you: Fifi and I are just friends.”

  “Just friends my white, er pink, feathered arse!” He laughed again. “You weren’t even half this territorial when you were with Poppy, and she was ostensibly more vulnerable as a human. Fifi can take care of herself. Need I remind you?”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “Right—which leads me to my next point: if you’re this keyed up about another man talking about your succubus, it’s because you have feelings for her. Deep ones.”

  Hmm, it seemed the smarmy bastard could actually tear his eyes away from Wanda’s ‘heaving bosoms’ for more than a minute to actually pay attention to what was going on around him. And, much though I didn’t want to admit it, he was actually pretty insightful—at least on this topic. But that didn’t change the fact that he still aggravated me like no one else could. It was just his way.

  “Go to Hallowed Homes,” Lorcan continued. “Even if Fifi doesn’t know where my body is, she might be able to shed some light on what’s become of me because she was there—when all of this happened.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled.

  “And no sexy stuff between you,” Lorcan added.

  “What do you think I’m going to do? Bend her over her desk?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you,” he answered.

  And, of course, now that the image was in my head, it was hard not to want to drop Lorcan off at the nearest animal shelter so I could call Fifi over and have my wicked way with her. And… for a few seconds, I seriously considered it. But then I remembered to let the head that lived farthest North do the thinking for me. The one in the south usually got me into trouble, but such was the case with all men, I assumed.

  I muttered a curse.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, maybe Lorcan was right. Maybe I needed to have a talk with Fifi. This constant agonizing over our relationship was going to kill me.

  Goddamn, you sound like a school girl with a crush, I berated myself.

  Well, I don’t like not knowing where I stand with her! I railed back.

  “I’m getting hungry,” Lorcan said, interrupting my interior argument. “Do you recall how you offered to pick up a loaf of bread?”

  Even if Fifi didn’t want more, even if she wanted to remain friends or still had a crush on stupid Marty, at least I’d know where I stood. And that was a much better place to be than here—where I was constantly thinking about her and wondering what we were while a pink goose did his best to drive me to complete and utter insanity.

  “I prefer white bread,” Lorcan continued, and I suddenly felt like punting him with my right foot.

  “Ugh, are you still here?”

  He glared up at me. “I’m your responsibility, in case you’ve forgotten?”

  “My responsibility?” I demanded, shaking my head.

  “You’re the only one who can understand me.”

  “So, the fuck what?”

  “So, you need to provide for me until we can locate my body and as my personal guardian, I’d like it to be known that I’m hungry and fairly soon, I shall need to use the premises.”

  “You’re not making duck shit in my house.”

  “Goose shit is the preferred term.”

  “Whatever shit.”

  “Have I mentioned I hate you?”

  I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he looked like a goose with a good case of ennui. “It might have come up.”

  “Fine, we’ll do this your way, Lorcan.”

  “We will?” He seemed surprised.

  I nodded. “We’ll head to Hallowed Homes and ask Fifi if she knows anything about what happened.”

  “And if she has my stunningly virile body in her office?”

  “If your emaciated corpse is in her office, we’ll just… set it on fire.”

  “Ha ha, Smokey Bear, we both know that’s not your style.”

  “God, you’re an asshole,” I muttered even as I changed direction and started for Hallowed Homes.

  “Regardless, I have a question for you.”

  “What?”

  He paused for a moment or two. “What in the world do I have to do with an emu?”

  ***

  I’d only visited the realty office a handful of times.

  When Fifi’s former boss, Ophelia Ponsobby, had been running the place, it was the place not to be.

  Ophelia was a night hag who enjoyed making her employees and the people of Haven Hollow, in general, miserable. Part of the reason for her sour nature had been a ploy to siphon off the energy of the people surrounding her. Hags were designed to absorb life force, particularly fear and despair.

  And while another energy-sucking demon was now in charge of the newly minted Hallowed Homes, Fifi was night and day different to Ophelia. Kind, caring and sensitive, Fifi wasn’t like most succubae or most demons, in general. And when it came to the aura she projected around her in comparison to Ophelia’s—well, most people could handle lust better than they could handle fear and despair.

  After only a few feedings with me, Fifi was no longer projecting her need unconsciously, and that was a win-win for all involved.

  As I started to think about Fifi again, I decided it was probably better to leave things as they were—we were good as friends. And, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered how we could be anything more than that. I’d seen almost every relationship Fifi had ever had and each one had folded like a weak hand of cards. The truth was, Fifi was terrible at dating and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Yet, I did know she was a great friend. And, so far, she was also a great friend with benefits. So maybe that’s all there needed to be to it? Yeah, it was better to play things cool, take things slowly and not worry about what we were or weren’t.

  Or maybe this was me taking the coward’s way out? Maybe this was a case of me playing the part of the fox who couldn’t reach the grapes, so he decided they would have been sour, anyway?

  Maybe it was Fifi who was waiting for me to bring up the conversation because she didn’t want to? Maybe she thought it was the man’s responsibility? Was it? Damn it, I didn’t know. Prior to Poppy, I hadn’t dated in a while and I’d never been the type of man to play the field. I enjoyed being a one-woman-guy, and I enjoyed being in a relationship and having someone who had my back just as I had hers.

  “This place has certainly changed,” Lorcan remarked as we stepped inside the new and improved Hallowed Homes.

  Cool air washed over my face and even ruffled my hair. The interior was freshly painted cream and there were plants all over the place. It was a nice change. When Ophelia was in charge of the place, it was stuffy and had a faint but definite scent of spoiled fruit underlying everything. It was the scent of rot—the smell Ophelia gave off.

  Now the office smelled fresh—something slightly floral but also open and wild, like the forest itself.

  “Of course it has,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Fifi gave the entire place a makeover and I don’t blame her—I’d want to get every last bit of Ophelia out too.”

  “Much improved,” Lorcan said as he glanced around. “This is my first time here since Fifi took the place over.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I answered. “You bought out most of the available homes in Haven Hollow when Ophelia was still in business.”

  Lorcan smiled up at me and seeing a goose smile was just… creepy. “Now why would I have done that?”

  “Because you’re a stalking bastard, that’s why,” I managed with a shrug. “Wanda could do much better than you.”

  Lorcan didn’t respond, so I took his quiet as a sign of agreeance. At the end of the day, we both knew one thing for sure: neither of us deserved the women we’d found ourselves with, no matter the nature of our relationships.

  As we stood in the waiting room, I noticed the receptionist’s desk was empty. I wasn’t sure how we should announce ourselves or if we should at all. Just then, I heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Libby as she approached us. She smiled when her attention fell on me and then frowned as it dropped down to the pink goose beside me.

  “Roy, have you come to buy or sell a house?” she asked. “With your duck?”

  “I’M A GOOSE!” Lorcan yelled but his voice just sounded like irate honking.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hi, Libby,” I greeted her, doing my best to smile. It was difficult when faced with her penetrating stare. There was something a little creepy about Wanda’s zombie. “Actually, I’m not here to do either.”

  “Please inform the undead imbecile that I am a goose and not a duck,” Lorcan said, but I ignored him.

  “Oh, well, then what are you here for?” Libby asked.

  I cleared my throat and hesitated for a moment or two and in that time, Libby’s jaw tightened.

  “Need I remind you that I’m a married woman,” she said primly, nose in the air. “Thus, if you’ve come to ask me to the drive-in or for a sodapop, I’ll have to refuse.”

  “Oh, um, no, that wasn’t why I came,” I said quickly, feeling heat in my cheeks as my smile slipped another few centimeters. I’d seen this woman shortly after Wanda raised her from the dead, when she was teeming with maggots, dirt and worms. The last thing I’d ever think of doing was asking her out.

  Lorcan, meanwhile, started to laugh, which came out sounding like he was having a sneezing attack.

  “And why have you brought a duck?” Libby continued, frowning down at Lorcan. “And why is the duck pink?”

  “I’m a GOOSE!” the pink duck proclaimed.

  “What’s your name, little duck?” Libby cooed at him and I had to hold my laughter in.

  “Donald,” I said. “His name is Donald.”

  “Ah, hello Donald Duck, aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”

  “Hear me now, Yeti, you will suffer for this,” Lorcan said as I chuckled.

  “Libby, is Fifi around?”

  Libby stood up again and turned to face me, her eyebrows arching into the question: why?

  “Something went wrong at the site of her new mausoleum,” I lied, figuring it would be easier to reach Fifi if I made it sound like I was here on business. Libby was very old-fashioned in her thinking and she could be a pain to deal with sometimes. “I can wait if she’s out of the office, but if you could get the message to her that I’m here, I’d be very grateful.”

  Libby nodded as she smoothed the skirts of her 1950’s poodle-esque dress. Every time I saw her, she was wearing something similar—bright colors with an enormous petticoat adding about fifty layers of skirts. Sometimes she had a cardigan sweater, but she always had on a pair of Mary Janes. She must have felt festive this morning, because this dress had polka dots.

  “Fifi just arrived, back from a recent tour,” she answered in what I assumed was her best business voice. “I will inquire about her availability. Please sit in the waiting area while I’m gone.”

  She pointed to the chairs that lined the walls in the foyer and I did as she asked, sitting in one of the scoop chairs near the door. Lorcan waddled up beside me and then plopped down on the tile floor. We settled in to wait, Lorcan squirming impatiently as Libby made a big show of calling Fifi from the front desk phone.

  Eventually Libby motioned me back to the desk and said, “Fifi has cleared her schedule for the afternoon. She’s waiting for you in her office.”

  “Thanks, Libby,” I said.

  After a moment of thought, I motioned to Lorcan, whose eyes were closed, and it appeared like he was taking a little nap. “Could you, uh, look after the little guy for a moment?”

  Libby stared at the goose, completely nonplussed. “Of course!” Then she looked up at me. “You never did say if you’d acquired the duck as a pet?”

  “Not exactly,” I answered.

  “Oh?”

  “Do you remember Wanda and the other witches discussing how Betanya was going to need a familiar?” I couldn’t help my chuckle but Libby didn’t seem to notice it.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, this is one of the contenders,” I said as I glanced back down at Lorcan, who appeared to be out like a light. He was now making a snoring sound and if I’d had the time, I would have recorded it to taunt him later. “Could you look after him for me? I know Wanda would really appreciate it.”

  Libby’s eyes brightened, and she looked down at Lorcan again with a wide smile. She actually cooed at him this time, something she’d never have done if she’d known the truth. While she didn’t hate Lorcan, she didn’t exactly like him either. Wanda occupied most of Libby’s thoughts, so any perceived threat to her mistress’ safety was met with about as much enthusiasm as black mold. Libby put up with Lorcan because Wanda did.

  “Thanks, Libby,” I called over my shoulder, striding past her desk.

  It was a straight shot to Fifi’s office. She’d done away with the cubicles Ophelia had favored, opting for an open floor plan which made the room seem larger. The new office was bright, inviting, and beautiful, just like its owner.

  Fifi was waiting in the doorway, wearing a black, slim pencil skirt with a red, satin blouse tucked in that did nothing to detract from her prominent breasts. Her blond hair was pulled back into a bun at her neck and she was strikingly beautiful, just as she always was.

  As I walked down that hall, I watched her tracking my progress with an almost feline anticipation. It was a stark reminder that she’d been born a sleek and deadly predator. And that predator was inside her still, whether she liked it or not. I actually considered it a compliment to me that she felt safe enough to let her inner ravenous demon show through, even if it was subtle. No matter what this was, she trusted me. It appealed to the beast’s nature to protect her.