Ghoulish Whisper 4586k

Ghoulish Whisper

A Paranormal Investigations Novel

RaShelle Workman

Copyright © 2021 by RaShelle Workman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover by: Luminescence Covers

Edited by: Jen Hendricks & Debbie Davis

Questions or to the author, email her at: [email protected]

For James. Eternity isn’t long enough.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Also by RaShelle Workman

About the Author

1

Immortality has its advantages. But to be immortal without love sucks so bad, sometimes I dream of changing what I am. Surely dying can’t be all bad. Without turning on the light, I shut and lock my apartment door and throw my keys on the entry table before heading to the bathroom. It’s nearly eleven in the evening, and darkness settles over my dilapidated place like a stifling blanket. I turn on the faucet at the sink, letting it run a few seconds until the water turns from rusty brown to mostly clear. While I wait, I remove my jacket, draping it over the edge of the tub. Finally, I stick my wrist under the sink to rinse away the drying blood, paying extra attention to the puncture wound. I got the injury scaling a barbed-wire fence after hooking up with Lance, the security guard on duty at the old Buckeye Joe museum. When I think of Lance, I want to smile because he’s cute. A little too beefy for my tastes, but he has kind eyes and a nice face. Sadly, all I feel is emptiness. The bleeding pretty much stopped, and my skin works to heal—a gift of my heritage. With a hand towel, I pat the abrasion dry and head into the kitchen, where I open the freezer. Chilly fog coils around my arm as I reach in and remove the solid human hand. Vacuum sealed for freshness. It looks alright. Modern-day technology is truly amazing. Not like the early eighteen hundreds, when I was born. Still, it’s a frozen hand, and I’m disgusted despite the appendage being a necessary evil when it comes to my diet. I turn on the water and put the plastic-wrapped limb in the sink, leaving it to defrost slightly. While I wait for my snack, my phone beeps, and I remove it from my back pocket. It’s a text from Lance. Did you get home all right? Yep. Safe and sound, I respond. Lance doesn’t know I’m one-quarter ghoul, which is fine. He isn’t a relationship, just someone I spend time with once in a while. A ghoul’s got needs the same as anyone else.

Good. Want to get lunch tomorrow? I’m off. We could spend the whole day together. Maybe. I’ll get back to you. He sends a smiling face emoji. I tap back with a thumbs up and place my phone on the counter. Turn my attention back to food. Human flesh keeps me healthy. Sort of like taking my vitamins. It keeps my abilities, like healing quickly, longevity, and running fast at a ten. But I don’t like my condition and I’ve been neglecting myself lately, which is why I didn’t recover immediately after getting snagged by the barbed wire. It’s been too long since the last time I partook—my nasty secret. I poke at the flesh. It’s thawed enough, and I pick the hand up, ripping off the plastic, leaving the wrapping in the sink as I shut off the water. Forcing myself not to get grossed out, I bite off the first finger. It’s still mostly frozen and snaps between my teeth like a carrot, which is a relief. Instead of thinking about what I’m chewing, I imagine a crunchy orange vegetable. It works, mostly. People-corpses do not taste like chicken, either. A light odor of death lingers around the appendage, but I barely notice. Holding it like a drumstick, I move into the living room, where I sag onto my worn couch and flip on the TV. By the time I finish the middle finger, the gash on my arm heals. Relief washes over me a moment. And then I’m grossed out again. To take my mind off what I’m consuming, I flip through channels with the remote until I find what I’m looking for. Remington Steele. It’s a long-forgotten private investigative series from the eighties, and it’s my favorite. The show has a little of everything. Drama. Comedy. And romance. Kind of like my life. Except for the romance. I gave that up a long time ago when the god Ra left me as the goddess of love but took the powers that went with it. That was the deal, after all. Eighteen months on Earth as the goddess of love, and then I was to go back with Ra… and do what I still don’t know. I never had to find out. All Ra said was my debt to him had been fulfilled. He would let me remain on Earth, leave me with my title as the goddess of love, but without any of the powers that went with it. I don’t know whether he did that as punishment or not, but that’s my guess. Because around the same time my goddess powers vanished, so did my only true love. Dashel Rothchild. The time was 1817, and

the place was England. Dashel was an Earl and betrothed to someone else while I was a maid working for said betrothed. But after Dashel and I spent some time together, we fell hard for each other. At least that’s what I believed. “Forget him,” I hiss and bite off the pinky finger, forcing away thoughts of the man. It’s been more than two hundred years since I saw him last. He’s long dead by now. Finished with the fingers, I reseal the rest of the hand with the gadget sitting on my kitchen counter and tuck the bag and its contents back in the freezer under a bag of frozen pork chops before grabbing a popsicle. I don’t get a single bite before my phone rings. An unknown number. It could be a job. “Dashel’s PI,” I say without wincing at hearing his name. “How can I help you?” I dump the popsicle into the sink and lick my fingers. Sugary sweetness is way better than the other thing I ate. “Hi, um, this is Julia Hickrom. Is this the place that handles—?” She pauses and clears her throat. I lean against my linoleum countertop, avoiding the parts that are peeling, and run my free hand over my uncombed hair. It’s been months since I had a case, and I’m getting desperate. “You have a paranormal problem?” I ask, hopefully. The P in PI doesn’t stand for private but paranormal. “Something like that. May I speak with Dashel, please?” She sounds young. Early twenties, if I had to guess. “He isn’t available right now, but I work for him. You can talk to me.” It’s a lie. I work for myself, but having Dashel as part of the business’s name is the only way to keep his memory alive. She sighs heavily. “You know about this stuff?” I hear the doubt in her voice. Not that I’m surprised. When I first hung up my investigative shingle, I went by my actual name, Harriet Everly. For the next two years, I got all of one and a half jobs. No one believes a woman who looks like me—long fuchsia hair and a not-too-shabby body—can hunt down things that go bump in the night. It’s more than my looks, though. It’s because I’m a woman. This is the twenty-first century, but people still hold on to their biases. As soon as I changed my company name to Dashel’s, the calls came in more regularly. “Um, okay, sure.” Julia pauses again, still hesitant.

I grit my teeth. “Are you having a ghost problem? Vampires? Trust me when I say I can handle whatever it is you need and then some.” “My fiancé,” she begins, talking over me. “He’s been missing more than a week.” That seems pretty non-paranormal. “Have you talked to the police? Filled out a missing persons?” She sniffles. It’s then I realize she’s barely holding it together. “Yes. The man I just spoke to said my Garrison probably just got cold feet, but I don’t think so.” I shrug, rolling my eyes. The police in our mid-size town of Alden Pine, Colorado, tend to be more laid back than the stoners or whatever they call themselves these days. “Why is that?” “Well, for one thing, he left all his stuff,” she begins. “And what about his job? Has anyone from there heard from him?” “He’s kind of wealthy and didn’t have one.” She clears her throat again, probably because rich people usually don’t like to talk about money. I take mental notes. A trust fund kid. Nothing except the fiancé to keep him here. His name is Garrison. “What’s his last name?” “Holden,” she says. “Look, I know it’s late, but maybe, if you aren’t busy, I can show you something tonight.” “Sure. Text me the address, and I’ll be right over.” I’m inclined to believe the cops’ assessment even if I can’t stand them, but this is a possible job, and I can’t up the chance.

2

When the address comes through, another flag goes up. It’s outside of town, near the Buckeye Joe area, a compound owned by an anonymous uber-rich somebody. All said rich person has done is tear down the buildings so they can reassemble them in some other place. Their way of living the wild, wild west, just not in the wild. Poachers, if you ask me, but no one does. Rich people and their idiot ways of spending money. “This is where you live?” I ask, underlining the address. My ghoul senses spring into high alert. “Nooooo.” She sounds disgusted. “But that’s the last place Garrison’s phone pinged before it went dead.” Ah, smart girl. “Okay.” I pause. “What do you need to show me?” “I went out to where the GPS says the phone is located and didn’t find him or his phone.” She stops, and I’m about to ask her another question, but she goes on. “So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and started digging.” The girl has tenacity. I’ll give her that. “Did you find anything?” “No,” she says, her voice shaky. “Before I got very far, I was suddenly…” Her voice trails off. “You’re in a safe place now, right?” I’m suddenly worried about her. “I’m back home, but my car is still out near Buckeye Joe’s,” she says, sounding shaken. I’m confused. “How did you get to your place then?” For the first time, I wonder if she’s playing a practical joke. It wouldn’t be the first time. Most people think it’s funny that I have a paranormal investigations business. Just as soon as the thought enters my mind, I douse it. Mostly because my ghoul-senses are tingling, and the hairs on my arms are standing up straight. A sure sign something paranormal is going on. Magic? Ghosts? Something else? I’ll take her case if she can pay.

Please be able to pay, I think. And with real money, not in pastries or chopped wood or pillow covers. All items I received as payment in the past. “That’s the thing. I don’t know. It was like magic or something.” She sniffles again and lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “One minute I’m searching for Garrison in the back yard, and the next I’m home.” She swallows so loud I can hear the spit travel down her throat. “I swear I’m not crazy.” Her voice trembles. “Can Dashel… or you help me figure this out? I can pay you, of course. Whatever the cost.” That’s all I need to hear. “It’s okay, Julia. Dashel is away on another case, but I’m available. Do you have a way to get out to the address you sent me?” Julia heaves a sigh of relief. “Yeah, I have Garrison’s car.” Another red flag. If Julia has Garrison’s car, how the hell did he get so far out of town? In my mind, I answer my own question. He could’ve abandoned it and used an Uber driver. “Great. I can be out there in fifteen minutes.” “Thank you, uh, what’s your name?” “Harriet. Harriet Everly.” I open the closet near the front door and use my thumbprint to unlock the safe. “Thank you, Harriet. I really appreciate this.” “See you in a few.” I hang up the phone and tuck it back into my jeans. From my safe, I remove my concealed-carry belly band. It’s got pockets and looks more like a waist trainer than a place to hold weapons. Black in color and slim, it’s virtually impossible to detect, especially once I add my black leather jacket over my tank in the same color. I hook the band, then grab my gun loaded with silver bullets and tuck it into the pocket at my belly button. I’ve fondly named the weapon Laura. Again a Remington Steele reference. It’s also where I got the idea to change my company name. For me, the show is a treasure trove of great ideas. Next, I grab a switchblade, another round of ammunition, and tuck those into pockets on either side of the gun. Finally, I strap on my machete. Lock the safe, grab my keys, and give myself a once over in the mirror above the table. My long hair looks raggedy, but at least the shadows under my eyes are gone, thanks

to my not-so-chicken fingers. “You can do this, Harry.” It’s the nickname Dashel gave me. I lock my front door and head along the walkway to the stairs. Since it’s nearly midnight, the only light comes from the bulbs hanging to the left of the other apartment doors. Mine is one of eight on the top floor of the seven-story building. There’s no one around, and I could use my ghoulish speed, but it’s always better not to. Besides, I need to reserve my strength. The more often I use my ghoul powers, the faster they are depleted. When I reach my old Chevy truck, I trace my fingers along the exterior. “And, action,” I say, thinking I’m so clever as I climb in. Action Line is the nickname given to this truck model when it came out in nineteen sixty-seven. I named my truck Action. Inserting the key in the ignition, I start it up. It growls to life before puttering into a nice mellow idle. As I back out, my phone rings. Worried it might be Julia changing her mind, I quickly answer. “I’m coming,” I say, shifting and heading out of the complex parking lot. “Are you now? That sounds spicy.” My heart drops into my stomach. Because if Sebastian Barrows, the once Duke of Vladimir, and the man in charge of the American branch of the KPID is calling, that means he wants something from me. And I’m not going to like it. “It’s late, vampire. What do you want?” “Ouch, Harriet. Is that any way to speak to your boss and one-time lover?” He chuckles low and sexy. An image of the man with long dark hair and captivating eyes fills my mind. I shudder and roll my shoulders back. Between his looks and his compulsion, the vampire does things to my body. That’s probably why he still leads the KPID even after all these years. The bastard compelled the bloody King of England to let him keep the job. “I quit, ? You aren’t my boss anymore.” I don’t add “or my lover”. Why remind him? Instead I push on the gas, turning on my headlights so I don’t freak out drivers on the two-lane highway. “I let you leave, but once you are inducted into the KPID, you’re in it for life. You know that.”

I want to tell him to go to hell and hang up, but that will only lead to more significant issues. So, I bite the inside of my cheek. “Did you need something?” “There’s a clan of vampires somewhere in your vicinity. They aren’t following the rules of engagement. It’s come to our attention they are taking humans, particularly females, and selling them to the highest bidder on the Paranormal Dark Web. I need you to locate their hideout. Once you find the place, call me, and I’ll send back up immediately.” “You know where I am?” Not that I’m hiding. He knows my cell number too. I just didn’t think he or the KPID cared. I sure as hell don’t care about them. “Harriet Everly dba Dashel’s PI at 1408 Breeze Dr. Alden Pine, Colorado 80—” “I get it,” I snap, cutting him off, only slightly embarrassed he knows my company name. Sebastian knew Dashel too. We were all friends at one time, long ago. “But I haven’t heard of any missing persons.” That’s not totally unexpected. I don’t watch the local news or own a police scanner. The worst I do is sometimes hang out at the local hospital and, when I’m extremely desperate, the cemetery looking for work and food. Sometimes ghosts need help too. And sometimes, they pay me by telling me where to find their body so I can swipe an appendage or two. “That’s because no one knows it’s a paranormal problem. But it is. The leader is making more vampires too. Growing his clan. I can sense them, and once in a while, I can see what they are doing.” He pauses. “They are out that way. Find them and then call me, but do nothing else.” “Is this an order from The Boss?” A furry brown rabbit jumps out in front of my truck, its eyes glowing in my headlights. I swerve to miss it, nearly dropping my phone. “The Boss has been appraised of the situation, and I have their full , Harriet,” he says. It’s obvious he’s getting tired of my insubordination. “Have you figured out who The Boss is yet?” I ask, changing the subject. In more than two hundred years, no one has discovered their identity. Some believe the King of England, the man who created the KPID, did so because he was a paranormal too and still runs the clandestine organization. I mean, KPID stands for the King’s Paranormal Inquiries Division. Others, like myself, believe The

Boss is a group of paranormals and humans looking out for the common good of all living beings. Whatever the truth, I’ll probably never know. “No, have you?” he asks. He suddenly sounds tired. I snort, a very unladylike habit, but that’s how I roll. “Not even a little bit.” Finding out isn’t even in the realm of a top priority. “It’s a mystery we may never solve,” he says, blowing out his breath. “Can I count on you to help us out?” I know if he’s asking, it’s because there aren’t any KPID agents within a hundred-mile radius. “Sure. I’ll look into it.” “Just locate the lair. Got it?” “Yes, sir,” I say and hang up.

3

The address Julia gave me is an old shack of a house. When the Buckeye Joe’s compound was a hopping tourist trap, the caretaker lived here. No more. Even in the dark, I can see that the windows are boarded up, and the front door is coming off its hinges. Five steps lead up to a small porch where a broken wooden swing dangles by one chain on the right. I climb out of the truck. Julia isn’t here yet, but Lance is beyond the double gates in the Buckeye Joe compound, keeping watch over the museum. There are no exterior lights on, and the place looks deserted. Back the way I came, I hear a car. Relieved, I take a deep breath. And that’s when I smell it. A corpse. It’s fresh and hasn’t started rotting yet. My mouth starts to water, and I curse. The scent comes from somewhere in or near the house. I debate whether to snatch a body part or two for later, but since this is my first case in a while, I resist. When Julia pulls up in a brand new Mercedes, I cross my arms, feeling nervous. She must have a trust fund too. In my experience, wealthy people tend to be even judgier than the rest of the population. A woman gets out of the car and locks the door. “Are you Harriet?” She gives me a once over. “That’s me.” I come forward and extend my hand. “You must be Julia.” She’s wearing a pink cashmere sweater with pearls along the edge of the short sleeves and the collar and tan capri pants with little shoes. “Yes.” She shakes my hand and then rubs her palm on her pants. I work not to be offended. Upon closer inspection, I see dirt smudged on her face, sweater, and pants. Not so prim and proper now, I think.

“Good to meet you,” I say aloud. “Can you show me where you were digging?” I figure that’s the best place to start. Then I can casually head in the direction of the aroma and come upon the body by accident. “What about the magic or whatever that sent me away the first time? Might that happen again? Should we do something to make sure we can stick around?” Julia doesn’t fit the trust-fund-baby mold. She isn’t ditzy or totally too cool to figure stuff out the way many of the wealthy I’ve dealt with over the years. “We should be fine,” I say, knowing by the smell of the body that Julia arrived on the scene just as the murderer was about to kill Garrison. “Okay, then it’s this way.” She turns on the flashlight on her phone and takes off toward the shack, veering to the right. “Back here,” she says, indicating I should follow. She walks the length of the house and into the backyard to where the forest meets the overgrown lawn. There’s a rusty swing set and a slide, and I can’t help thinking about the children who might have played here. Once, a long time ago, I wanted kids. “I dug here.” Julia stops beside a pile of dirt near a shovel and a good-sized hole. “Why?” I ask, thinking there are more logical places to start looking. She shows me the place on her phone with coordinates. “This is exactly where it told me Garrison's phone would be.” “You’re right,” I say and squat down, running my fingers against the soft dirt. That’s when I smell it—magic and not the benign kind. Whoever killed Garrison and hid the phone also put an enchantment around the device, so if someone tried to retrieve it, they would be sent away. “Interesting,” I say. “What?” Julia asks, picking up the shovel. “Should I keep digging?” I take it from her hands. “Definitely not. Magic surrounds this spot. Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll have a look around?” She shakes her head, her long and thick lashes batting in distress. “No, I’ll come with you.”

“Alright. Just watch your step.” Even with flashlights, it’s so dark. We could accidentally step on anything, including a snake. I shudder. Snakes aren’t my favorite creatures on the planet. They are right up there with vampires. I take my time, slowly heading in the direction of the corpse until we get to the other side of the house. Without warning, I’m confronted by twin yellow eyes, followed by a mouth full of teeth and a menacing growl. As my vision adjusts, I make out a giant black animal. On all fours, it looks like a bear. Its hair is standing on end. On all fours its head is the same height as my chest. “Don’t move,” I tell Julia, going for my gun. She lets out a noise, something between a cry and a scream. I click off the safety and aim. “Don’t worry. These are silver bullets.” She doesn’t listen and runs like a frightened baby deer confronted by its first mountain lion. “Humans,” I whisper, keeping my eyes locked on my target. It doesn’t smell like a werewolf, but magic surrounds the creature. The animal drops its head to its paws and whines. “You’re a dog,” I say with relief, recognizing the gesture, and tuck my gun away. “Easy, boy.” It’s in rough shape with matted fur and dirt clumped like a charm bracelet around its neck. “Easy,” I say again. “My name is Harriet. What’s yours?” Of course, the giant canine doesn’t answer, but whines again before letting out a soft bark. “That’s a good boy.” I don’t know if the dog is a boy, but it feels right. “What’s the matter?” I ask. “Did you kill the human or bury the body?” He lays down, his tail wagging slowly. That’s when I notice the dog is shackled to the wood siding by a massive chain. It’s also enchanted with magic, which is what's keeping the dog from escaping. Now that I know the pooch can’t come after me, I call after Julia. “Where are

you?” “My car,” she says, her declaration shaky. “Stay there. I’m going to keep looking around.” “What about the beast? D-did you kill it?” Sheesh. “No, he’s not going to harm anyone.” I move around him and head toward the bushes. Julia doesn’t respond to my comment. “Don’t you need a light to see?” Crap! I turn on my phone’s flashlight for the sake of Julia, even though I don’t need one. “It’s on,” I say. And that’s when my light catches on the motionless face of the dead body. Tucked under some overgrown shrubs and half-buried. I wonder if the killer abandoned whatever he or she was doing when Julia showed up the first time. It looks like they didn’t get to finish. Going in for a closer look, I squat down. It’s a young man. His eyes are open, as is his mouth. A glance inside reveals the tongue is missing. Definitely the work of a witch. Magic lingers with a stench worse than the corpse. The man’s shirt is also gone, a symbol half-carved into his chest—like the beginning of a star. “Julia?” Might as well get this over with. “I found a dead body. Can you it’s your fiancé?” I ask, glancing back at the dog. “You didn’t take his tongue.” It isn’t a question. “He’s dead?” Her voice catches as she makes her way back over to me. When she appears, the dog glances at her and whines but doesn’t bark. Her eyes travel to the face of the man as I hold the light. “It-it’s Garrison.” She drops to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself. “Oh, Garrison.” She’s sobbing, and tears leak onto her cheeks, leaving a trail of dirt in their wake. “I knew the police were wrong.” “We should call the police,” I say, even though I don’t want to. Because while a witch was involved, now that he’s dead, there isn’t a whole lot for me to investigate. She nods, then glances at me. “Thank you,” she says. I shrug. “I didn’t do much.”

She pulls a wad of cash from her front pocket. “Still, you found him.” She holds out the money. “Take this. I really appreciate your help. I wouldn’t have had the guts to come out here again without you.” “Alright, thanks.” I can’t decline. I have bills to pay. Electricity to keep on. “Let me know if you need anything else.” “I will.” She pulls out her phone and dials the police. “This is Julia Hikrom. Get your asses out to the old Buckeye Joe shack. My Garrison’s dead body is here.” She glances at me and smiles in grim triumph. Hangs up. Faces Garrison. I’m guessing she’s used to being right. The dog whines again. “What is it, Bear?” I've already named him, even though it isn't creative by any means. He does look like an extra furry black bear. “They’ll probably put him down,” Julia says, as though his life doesn’t mean anything. “Well, I can’t have that.” I cautiously walk over to the dog, my hands in the air. “Are you going to be a good boy and let me free you?” “Don’t,” Julia says. “It might eat my Garrison’s body.” “You won’t do that, will you, Bear?” He looks at me like he understands and whines again. Up close, I can see how underfed he is, and I unhook the thick leather collar around his neck, freeing him. All of his hair is worn off underneath. I reach out to touch him, but he takes off into the woods. “I guess that settles that,” I say. “Why would they carve into Garrison’s chest like this?” Julia doesn’t even acknowledge the dog. I swallow down irritation and move in closer to her. “From the marks, it looks like he was going to be used to complete a powerful spell. When you came looking for him, you probably startled the witch.” I don’t skirt around the truth. She called me. She might as well know it was a paranormal that killed her

fiancé. More tears fall onto her cheeks. “This isn’t how the week before our wedding was supposed to go, Garrison,” she says, weeping softly. “Sorry,” she adds. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder. Then push through the overgrown bushes and head back out to the street so I can talk to the police when they arrive. Of course, they know about me and what I claim to do, but mostly they think I’m a joke. Deputy Tom Carson arrives on the scene first. The pasty man with the horse teeth gets out of his police cruiser and adjusts his pants before putting on his hat. I have to clamp my mouth shut so I don’t say something I’ll regret. He’s one of my least favorite people in town. We hooked up once. He sucked in the sack. Plus, the dick is married. Two strikes against him. But he still wanted us to date. I refused, which means he’s permanently pissed at me. “Harriet Everly. I should’ve known.” His eyes rake down my body. “Nice to see you too,” I lie. “How’s Mrs. Carson?” He has the decency to flinch as he tucks his thumbs into the waist of his pants. “Good. Keeping busy spending all my money. Same as always.” He chuckles darkly. I don’t in. “Julia Hikrom called me and asked me to help her,” I begin, knowing he’ll want to know why I’m here. Tom has arrested me in the past for no reason at all. I don’t want to give him any ammunition. “We’ll need to confirm that with her.” He turns as another police vehicle arrives, lights flashing, followed by the medical examiner’s van. After that, it’s pandemonium. I give my statement. Thankfully, Julia corroborates what I said. Lance appears, brought out of the museum by the noise and the lights. I meet him at the gate. He looks me over and smiles. “You’re okay, then?” His voice is concerned.

There's also a hint of laughter. “Yes,” I say, smiling back. A glimmer of something other than emptiness fluttering in my belly. While Tom sucked in bed, Lance did not. Quite the opposite. “Coffee later so you can tell me all about it?” What the hell? “That sounds nice.” I wrap my fingers around the chain-link, leaning in. “Meet at Benny’s at noon?” “I’ll see you there.” He brushes my fingers with his thumb. Deputy Tom notices us talking and comes over. “Lance, you see or hear anything tonight?” Lance drops his hand and glances at me. “Nothing, Tom,” he responds. “Better get back inside, then. Wouldn’t want any of the shit you’re guarding to get stolen, now would we?” “Guess not,” Lance says, his eyes gleaming with anger. Tom and the rest of the police department look down their noses at Lance with almost as much disdain as they look down on me. Tom doesn’t seem to notice Lance’s irritation and walks away with a smirk on his awful face. “Guy’s an ass,” Lance says. “That’s putting it mildly,” I reiterate, winking. He laughs, then leans in again. “I want to kiss your pretty mouth so bad right now.” “Later,” I respond and start back toward my car. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says. I don’t turn back but raise a hand in response. Thankfully, two deputies are occupied with Julia and the medical examiner.

That’s my cue to leave. As my engine turns over, Tom walks in front of my truck. I roll down my window. “Yeah, Tom?” I ask, doing my best to sound friendly. “Screwing Lance now? How many in town is that?” His beady eyes hold mine. For the briefest moment, I think about how satisfying it would be to eat him while he’s still alive. To listen to him scream as I peel the flesh from his body. Then I throw the thoughts away. I’m not that kind of ghoul. “None of your damn business.” “Go on then. Get!” He slams on the hood of my truck before stepping out of the way. I do a quick three-point turn, and my headlights catch a flash of yellow eyes in the trees. I’m guessing they are Bear’s. From the looks of things, he's been manacled to the house for a lot of years. Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the only thing you’ve ever known. That’s how it is for me, anyway. In another instant, the eyes are gone, and I head back to my apartment.

4

I meet Lance for coffee at noon, just like I promised. After, we go back to his place. A duplex one street away from the city center. The man is talented in bed and more interesting than I first believed. He has dreams and is trying out for the FBI next week. We are lying on our sides in his double bed, the sheets tangled around us as we face each other. The smell of his cologne and sweat hang in the air. It’s one of my favorite fragrances. “You think becoming an FBI agent is a good idea?” Lance’s dirty blond hair is messy, and perspiration gleams against his forehead and upper lip. I find him quite sexy. Yep, he’s cute or even a little more than that. Good looking? Undeniably, I think, and reach out to play with his hair. “My opinion doesn’t matter. Your life, your decisions.” I meet his gaze, studying his light brown eyes a moment. “If you want to the FBI, that’s all that matters.” Worry clouds his face, and his thick brows scrunch together. “I want to know your thoughts, and I’m getting the feeling you don’t like the Federal Bureau of Investigations. How come?” He tugs on my naked hip, pulling me closer. I comply, already hungry for more. He seems ready but waits for me to respond. “It’s all government agencies, not just that one.” I tell him the truth and am surprised. “Is that why you’re a private investigator instead of a police officer?” As he speaks, his eyes get wide. “Or maybe you worked for the FBI, and you know secrets… supernatural secrets?” “Nothing so interesting,” I say, trailing my thumb along his bottom lip. He’s more clever than he looks, and I need to distract him. “But there’s something—”

I quiet him with a kiss, pressing his mouth open and tasting him. My past isn’t something I can share because the KPID is off all the books. I’m sure someone in the American government knows of its existence, but I don't know who it could be. Lance still isn’t ready to give up, so I roll on top of him and trail kisses across his chest. It works, and he moves his hands to my waist.

After we finish in the bedroom, I order takeout. Burgers and fries. The world’s best foods. When it arrives, Lance wraps himself in the sheet and goes to the door. I follow him, pulling on one of his tee shirts. The man is more than six feet tall and built like a bull. Needless to say, his shirt fits me like a baggy dress that hits just above my knees. “Thanks, man,” he says to the delivery guy, taking the bag and walking the food past the living room, setting it on the counter. His eyes take me in, and they immediately go dark. “Damn, you’re fine,” he says. “Aw, shucks, sir. In this old thing?” I smile at the compliment as I tug up the edge of the shirt, revealing my nakedness underneath. It’s obvious he’s forgotten about the food already, but I’m starved. He walks around and lifts my shirt, running his fingers along my sides. “I’ll never get enough of you,” he says, his eyes on mine. I understand what he’s saying. Lance has already fallen for me, which isn't a surprise. This kind of thing happens a lot because of my goddess of love situation. It’s a curse, really. Another reason I don’t stay long with one guy. With Lance, the thought of never hanging out with him again makes me sad. I like him, and I don’t want us to be done. But I also don’t want to hurt him either. Not only that, but my heart still belongs to a dead man. “Thank you,” I say, feeling slightly awkward as I step around him and beeline it for the food. He follows after me. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” He grabs a couple of plates from the cupboard and sets them down on the counter. “When I find someone spectacular like you, I’m not afraid to tell you what I’m feeling.” He shrugs. “Sorry.” I open the bag and place the fries on the counter before taking out our burgers. “Don’t be,” I say, placing my hand over his. “You are amazing. I’m just not…” How do I put it in a way that doesn’t sound horrible? Physically, I’m into him, and that feeling is growing. “Say no more. I get it.” Lance shoves a few fries in his mouth, smiling as he chews.

He seems okay. “Good.” I sit on one of the plastic stools under his counter and remove the wrapping from the burger before taking a bite. Lance watches me eat, and I wonder if my shoveling food in my face like I’m famished is a turn-off. The sheet falls to the ground, letting me know it isn’t. “You’re the one who’s fine,” I say, unable to help running my fingers down his abs. They’re like a washboard. It’s a wonder he has them, the way he eats. Some people are genetically lucky. “Keep talking like that, and I won’t let you finish your food.” He picks up the sheet, tucking it around his hips. I smile and take another bite of my burger. It’s juicy and delicious. There’s just something about a good burger topped with lettuce, pickle, onion, tomato, and cheese, and swaddled in a soft and chewy bun. For the next several minutes, we focus on our food. Neither of us speaking. He finishes first, but I’m not far behind. “You can eat,” he says and seems pleased. “Damn right,” I say after I swallow the last bite. There are a few fries left, but I don’t want them. “So, what’s your plan for the rest of the evening? Want to stay the night?” He cleans up the counter, tossing the wrappers in the bag before throwing it all in the trash. Another unusual attribute for a single man. He keeps his place clean. It even smells good. I debate my answer. Since Julia gave me the six hundred dollars, I’m relieved. My power bill and most of my rent are covered for another month. But I promised Sebastian I’d look into the vampires. “I have work,” I say, glancing down at my hands. “I guess it isn’t strange; you always work at night.” Lance turns me on the stool, so I’m facing him. “That is when the fiends come out, isn’t it?” I study him. Of course, he knows what I do and even the name of my business. He knows I hunt paranormals. But we haven’t talked about whether he believes in them or not. His lack of questions about my line of work leads me to think he

doesn’t, but now I’m not sure. “Exactly.” I don’t give him more, waiting for him. If he handles the situation well enough, maybe I’ll tell him about me. It’s been a good hundred years since I told someone my secret. Then he died of a werewolf attack. “What’s your case?” Lance asks, pulling me into his arms. His breath smells like ketchup and a hint of onion. I don’t mind because mine is probably similar. “Vampires,” I say, watching his eyes. “You’re telling me they’re real?” He’s surprised, and I feel his pulse quicken. “What do you think?” I kiss my way across his face. He shivers, distracted a moment. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit but vampires? Bloodsuckers?” He tilts his head and leans into my neck, grazing it with his teeth. “They are real,” I say matter-a-fact, pressing my neck into his incisors as my skin prickles with desire. He looks at me. “Have you met one?” I snort. It’s sort of my thing. “I have. Many times.” “No way.” He steps back and crosses his arms, looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. We've come to crossroads, a position I rarely put myself in with my lovers. He’ll either think I’m a nut and we will never see each other again, or he’ll be curious. What do I want? As I watch the emotions across his handsome face, I decide I’m not ready to say good-bye to this sweet man. It’s been a long time since I liked someone enough to want to keep them around. And while I’m not in love with him, I do care. I do want to spend more time with him. “Want to go hunting with me?” I ask, heading into the bedroom. It’ll be dark soon, and I need to get home and change. “Hell yeah.” He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and pulls me against him, nuzzling my cheek with his scratchy one.

A gurgle of happiness bubbles up inside of me, an unusual occurrence, as the emptiness gives way to something else. Something lovely. It’s been a long time. I turn in his arms and kiss him deeply before meeting his eyes. “I’m going to go home and change. Meet me at The Salty Chicken at ten?” He winces at my abruptness. Obviously, he wants another round in bed. But if I’m going to stalk vampires, I probably better finish off that frozen hand in the freezer. “At a bar?” he asks. “We’re going to hunt vampires there?” I step out of his arms and walk over to my clothes. “Put yourself in the mindset of a bloodthirsty vampire. You are desperate for human blood. Where would you go?” I raise my eyebrows in question before pulling off his oversized shirt and putting on my bra. If he’s as smart as I think he is, then he’ll figure it out. It isn’t hard. A bar is always the place. People are eager to fill a void, find a companion, and are almost always hungry for sex. If I were a vampire, that’s where I’d go. Lance walks over to the bed and sits. “You’re serious?” “Very,” I say, buttoning my jeans, throwing on my tank, and grabbing my boots. At the bed, I sit beside him. “This is my job. It’s what I get paid for.” Not very well, but maybe Julia will tell her friends, and I can get more work. Lance falls back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. I tie the laces and stand, debating whether I’ve broken him. “You still in? If not, it’s okay. I know my job seems… weird.” That’s an understatement. Bloody nuts is more like it. He leans up, his eyes twin pools of interest. “It is weird. But I have to agree. If I were going after human blood, there or the hospital is where I would go, and a bar is easier.” He pulls me to him, his fingers in the loops of my jeans. “I’ll be there.” He blinks several times and smiles. “I can’t wait to watch you work.” “Cool.” I kiss him lightly and head for the door. He hurries after me. “Thanks for a lovely afternoon.” I wave and head to my truck. It's parked on the street behind his behind Bronco. “It’s a keeper,” I say, climbing in.

Lance tilts his head, looking at me. “A keeper?” I tap on my head. “For the memory bank.” I’ve been alive a long time, and I'm particular about what I hold on to and what I don’t. He smiles big. “Awesome. It’s definitely a keeper for me too.” I laugh as my truck roars to life. After a beat, I start down the street, heading home. Before I get too far, I turn my rearview mirror to see if Lance is still standing out there. He is. His lower half wrapped in a sheet and one arm raised in a wave. I wave back. He really is cute.

5

When I pull into the gravel parking lot for The Salty Chicken, it’s just after ten at night. Country music spills out of the building as a bleary-eyed patron stumbles over the threshold. His comb-over is standing straight up, revealing a shiny bald head and his plaid shirt is untucked. He glances around as though trying to where he parked his car. I grit my teeth because it doesn’t matter that this is a small town. Someone could get hurt if he tries to drive, possibly him, but more likely a deer, which is even worse. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. It’s Carl. He works for one of the eleven prisons in our county. “Well, if it isn’t the paranormal investigator. Out looking for ghosts, little lady?” He slurs his words as he staggers toward me. The man is the same height as me, but I don’t mention that. “No.” I smile and hold out my hands as he trips into me. “I was waiting to drive you home.” That surprises him. “Oh, really? Want to get into my pants, do ya?” I force myself not to lose my temper. “Can I have your keys, Carl?” He digs in his pocket. “You know where I live?” “Yep,” I say and don’t elaborate. His residence is on the same street as Lance’s. I find his old Corolla and unlock his door before helping him in. On the drive, he tries to get handsy. I’m not having that and knock him out with one punch so we can get to his home in one piece. Once I reach his street, I drive along slowly. Lance’s SUV isn’t parked along the road, which means he’s already left. But I didn’t see it at the bar either. “Strange.” A prickle of worry hoists itself into my throat, but I swallow it down. He probably went to get gas or nachos.

Carl mumbles something incoherent as I turn off the engine and get out, hurrying around to the enger side. I’m late, and I don’t want Lance to think I’m standing him up. “Come on, Carl.” I drag him out of his car and toss him over my shoulder, hoping no one sees me. Fumbling with the keys, I find the one that goes to his house, unlock the door, and push it open. His residence smells like spoiling food and old beer. “Gross.” I toss him onto his couch and debate where to put his keys. The coffee table is littered with take-out boxes, old beer cans, magazines, newspapers, and who knows what else. Finally, I drop the keys on the floor in front of the couch. “Night, Carl.” I lock the doorknob, shut the door, and start along the sidewalk, moving only slightly faster than is typical for humans. The Salty Chicken is on the outskirts of town. A two-lane highway cuts through the dense forest and es by the bar. The only light is a neon sign, which is still a ways off, and the light in the sky. It’s one of my favorite things about living in a small town. No pollution. On a clear night like tonight, the firmament is glorious. A waxing crescent moon hangs bright and is surrounded by billions of stars. All sorts of sounds can be heard beyond the trees, but I ignore them, moving even more quickly until I’m back in the parking lot. Before going inside the rundown establishment, I heave a deep breath. Body odor. Cigarettes. Alcohol. And vampires. At least one is nearby. An ache of excitement runs along my spine. I’m in the mood to kick some ass. Inside, I sit at the bar and order a drink—vodka and cranberry juice. Because if I can smell the vampire, then he or she will be able to smell me too. Alcohol does an excellent job of covering my ghoul scent. While I wait, I look around for Lance. His Bronco still isn’t outside, but I’m hoping maybe I missed it. The bar is crowded. It’s a Friday night, but the people of this town never need an excuse to drink. Still, tonight it seems overly full. A group of people are on the dance floor, doing some sort of dance. It’s kind of like the quadrille, one of my favorite dances from the nineteenth century. As I watch them move, laughing and hooting as they go, I can’t help ing the last night Dashel and I spent together. The night before Ra returned. “I want you to marry me, my love,” Dashel says, his fingers caressing my

cheek. I lean into his hand, closing my eyes a moment. My feelings for him are overwhelming. Extraordinary. And I know there will never be another for me. But that’s just it. As the goddess of love and a ghoul, I will live forever, while Dashel is entirely human. He’ll grow old and die. Just thinking about losing him causes my heart to break. Finally, I open my eyes. “Is that a proposal?” I take his hands in mine. “It is, my dearest. Same as it was yesterday and the day before that.” His caramel-brown eyes overflow with love. “But what will your parents think? Wedding a commoner—a servant girl, no less.” I already know what he will say, but I ask the question anyway because I want to hear again how much he doesn’t care about his title. “Damn my parents and damn my title. Without you in my bed and my life, none of it matters.” There’s no question he means every word. He will give up everything for me. “Alright, then. Yes, I will marry you, Dashel Rothchild. On one condition.” He smirks, and I fall in love with him all over again. “What’s that?” he asks, resting his hands on my waist. It still boggles my mind that the woman I work for, Lucy Channing, chose someone else—someone from the twenty-first century. Because the man before me, Dashel, is tall and lean with a strong jaw and dark hair. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. More than that, he’s kind and gloriously capable at everything, including billiards, shooting, riding, dancing, and probably lovemaking… My insides quiver. “Meet me at the justice of the peace tomorrow morning, first thing. I’ll be the girl wearing a cream dress and holding a bouquet of matching roses.” Dashel, ever a gentleman, places a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’ll be there, my love.” A shiver of anticipation dances along my belly. “And afterward?” I give him a look I hope he understands means I want him. My body craves him all the time.

“Oh, yes. Afterward, all propriety goes out the window.” His eyes darken as they take in my face. “I’m counting on it,” I respond— “Hey,” the bartender shouts, pulling me out of my memory. “Yeah,” I snap, chugging down the rest of my drink. The middle-aged man slides another drink over. “As I was saying, this is from the guy in the corner.” He indicates the direction of a man with long blond hair pulled up in a man bun. I meet his eyes. “Thanks,” I mouth and lift the drink to my lips. He nods, watching me, his eyes heavy with lust. He’s dressed differently than most people in the bar—all black like his eyes. As the liquid goes down, it burns. Partly because of the whiskey, but also because of the drug he’s added as well. It’s bitter. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I’m not most people. Gotcha, I think, and finish off the drink. I’ll feel it, but not like a regular human. When I finish and slam the glass on the counter, he smiles and comes to sit beside me. “Hello, beautiful, I’m Byron. What’s your name?” “Harriet,” I respond and lean into the alcohol effects. “You come here often?” I wait for him to laugh at his joke. It’s like the most cliché thing anyone could say, but he seems serious. “Sometimes,” I finally say, playing with my hair. I left it down, and the edges of my hair rest against the bar. “What about you?” “I’m just ing through.” He clears his throat and turns me so I can look into his eyes. “Let’s get out of here,” he says. I know he’s trying to use compulsion on me. It doesn’t work, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Okay.” I let Byron pay for my drink.

When I’m off the seat, he takes my hand. From under my lashes, I watch him make a connection with another man and two women. All of them are vampires. By the smell of it, two are new. Byron isn’t. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s a century old. I’ll need to be careful. I also search the bar for Lance. He still hasn’t arrived. Outside, I take a deep breath and pretend to stumble. I have on my gear, including the gun and blade around my waist and the machete under my jacket. When he doesn’t take me to a car but walks me across the street, I pull out of his hand. “Where are we going?” I ask, slurring my words. “Someplace where we can be alone.” He smiles, flashing his pointy fangs. I giggle. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?” Byron laughs, and it rings out, causing animals just beyond the trees to skitter into hiding. “Of course not. I’m just going to make you feel so good, Harriet. That’s a promise.” He takes hold of my hand and pulls me along until we’re off the road and almost to the tree line. “That sounds nice,” I say, allowing myself to weave. Tonight, I’m wearing a denim mini-skirt and a lacy pink tank under my jacket, as well as black socks scrunched down by my black combat boots. From behind, I hear the others and turn back. They have humans with them. This situation is becoming dangerous, and I debate whether to play it out. If I let Byron, he’ll likely take me to his lair. But what if he doesn’t? What if the vamps try to kill us all in the woods and leave our bodies for the wolves? Sebastian did tell me not to do more than observe. I would have. All I intended was to follow them home. I didn’t plan on this turn of events. Now that I’m here, I have to follow through. As soon as we are beyond the trees, Byron stops and turns, lifting my face. “Now then, I need a taste.” I lower my eyes, pretending to be out of it. “Of what?” I ask and giggle again. “You,” he says and sinks his teeth into my shoulder.

I cry out, though it doesn’t hurt. There’s burning as his fangs inject poison into my blood. It’s supposed to render me further out of it, and I tilt my head back. “That feels good,” I moan, wrapping my arms around his neck. He begins to suck. I have no idea whether he tastes the ghoul in me or not. There aren’t many of my kind left. He may not even know. So I wrap one arm around him, running my hand under his shirt, egging him on. “Hey,” one of the others shouts. “No sampling until we’re home.” It’s one of the females. I glance over and see the one with black hair is pissed. She and Byron must be an item, or at least she wants them to be. Byron growls. “Never question me,” he shouts but doesn’t drink more. “Her blood is… different.” He licks the bite mark closed, which is good because it would’ve healed on its own, and that would’ve been difficult to explain. The three vampires throw their stumbling humans over their shoulders. “Breaking your own rules. I see how it is.” It’s the other female vamp who speaks. Byron chuckles and picks me up in his arms. Before we go, I study the other vampires, looking for weaknesses, but I don’t get much information before they all start to move at super speed. I can go fast, but not as fast as vampires, and my head starts to spin. After a few moments, I close my eyes. I can’t keep up anyway. It’s maybe four or five minutes before Byron stops. I shift lightly in his arms, letting out a seductive groan. “Yours is prettier than mine,” the other female says. “Can I have her?” “We’ll take turns,” Byron coos. I barely open my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of where we are. Still in the woods, by the look of it. There’s a slow-moving stream nearby, and someone has a fire going by the smell of it.

Byron pushes open a door. It’s built of wood, as is the rest of the place, like a log cabin but on a much bigger scale. Inside, I breathe in, hoping to get my bearings. A prickle of fear dances along my skin. There are at least five more vampires. On top of that, I can smell a dead body. Damn. There’s something else too. Familiarity. Musk and cologne. Lance’s cologne. My body stiffens. “It’s okay, little flower,” Byron says, pulling closer to him. “If we can all resist, I want you in my clan.” He kisses my forehead as he moves into a bedroom and carefully lays me on the bed. My skirt is hiked up, so I’m sure he’s getting a flash of my black thong. “You are quite the sight,” he says, his voice filled with need as he puts his knee between my thighs, spreading them open. I moan and try to sit up, but his hand wraps around my neck, holding me down. “What the hell, Byron? You’ve already had some. It’s my turn.” The other male comes in. He’s got short dark hair and a grizzly beard. I can smell he’s newly changed—only a few months old. He pushes at Byron. Without a word, Byron is off me and on the other guy. He’s got an arm around the young vamps neck and rips off his head before I can process the whole thing.

6

At the scent of so much blood, suddenly the room is swarming with vampires. All of them furious over the death of one of their own but hungry too. This is not good. I can take on more than one vampire, but nearly a dozen? That’s highly unlikely. With ghoul in my blood and the goddess of love curse, I doubt I’ll die, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt me. “Get out,” Byron roars. “Unless you want to wind up like asshat.” “But why would you do that?” a female complains, eyeing the blood, her hands covering her mouth like she’s trying to keep away from the corpse. Her throat must be burning at the scent. Even I can smell it. “Because he wanted to take my food. No more questions. Get the hell out.” He’s ferocious and reminds me a little of Sebastian. Not as tall but thicker—a bodybuilder—or at least he was before he became a vampire. Now he’s all sinew and shadow. While Byron shoves the others back through the opening, I take the opportunity to study the room. There’s a window. I could bust through it, but with Byron’s speed, I wouldn’t get very far. Crap! Not only that, but I can’t leave until I know for sure it’s Lance that’s dead in their living room. At the thought, my heart twinges with pain. I’m surprised by the feeling. It has me off balance. While Byron’s back is turned, I retrieve my machete, tuck it under my leg, and then wait for an opportunity. At least now, when I cut off his head, the vamps in the other room won’t suspect anything until it's too late. That’s my unlikely hope anyway. Really, I don’t see myself getting out of this unscathed. When the last vampire is out, Byron slams the door and turns to me, unbuckling his jeans. “Where were we?” His pants drop, revealing boxer shorts with hearts on them. I want to laugh but have to play my part. “My head hurts,” I say, moving the thigh without the knife.

He kneels on the bed. “I’ll make you feel better, flower.” Why flower? That’s a weird pet name. Possibly a florist in his before vampirism life. “You will?” It’s easy to play the victim. I run one hand over his chest. He bends down and crawls forward. With my speed, I retrieve the blade and have the sharp edge on his throat, but he’s too fast and wraps a hand over mine. “What are you?” he asks, twisting the machete from my fingers and lifting me by the neck, then throwing me against the far wall. As I’m flying through the air, he does up his pants and has me by the neck again before I can fall to the ground. I scratch at his hands, trying to get him to release me, and kick his shins, aiming for his dick. Even though I connect several times, it does no good. He opens the bedroom door and carries me out to the rest of the vampires. They’re surprised and stop talking. “What’s wrong?” the jealous female asks. “She’s a paranormal of some kind.” Byron sounds like he has a bad taste in his mouth. Probably does. “Chain her up, Shawna.” He drops me in front of the whole group. “We’ll sell her as a bonus with our next shipment if she’s still alive.” There are at least a dozen vampires. Off in the corner, sitting in a recliner like he’s just napping, is Lance. I know he’s dead, though. His skin is gray, and his neck is set at an odd angle. Bite marks are all over him. Animals! I’ll bloody kill them all. “Why don’t you get rid of her?” Shawna asks, unmoving. “We nearly have enough for the next shipment. We don’t need her.” She notices I’m staring at Lance and follows my gaze. “I have a feeling she’ll be nothing but trouble.” “Fine. Never mind. I’ll do it myself. The bitch tricked me. She needs to suffer first.” He grabs me by the hair and drags me through the long living room, past the dining area where the light hanging over the oversized wood table is made of elk antlers.

I hear a screen door squeak open, and he pulls me through, not caring that the door hits me or that my skirt is down to my thighs. As long as he doesn’t find my gun and the switchblade at my waist, I’ll be fine. Shawna trails behind us, fury all over her face. Wherever Byron is taking me, if he leaves me alone, she’ll come for me and do her best to kill me. I do not doubt that. My boots dig into the dirt, leaving a trail. “Where are you taking me?” I’m strong but not as strong as this vampire. He doesn’t answer but pushes open another door. Then he turns and lifts me under my arms, holding me like a rag doll. “Let’s see how long you can survive without food or water.” He tosses me into the room and slams the door. Immediately, I go to the door as he locks it. It’s been spelled, and I can’t breakthrough. “Why don’t you let me take care of her,” Shawna says, her voice languid as ice and as cold too. There’s a crack and then a thud followed by another, more considerable thump. I jump up and grab hold of one of the beams above me and lift myself so I can peer over the top of the door. Shawna’s body is headless, and blood gushes from her neck. It’s a gruesome sight. Obviously, Byron isn’t afraid to kill, so I can only assume he does intend to torture me. Dropping down, I try the door again, turning the handle and pushing against it with all my might. It almost feels like the door is pushing back, thanks to the blasted enchantment. “Think, Harriet,” I whisper, knowing vamps have super hearing too. Take a deep breath. Amongst the vampires, I smell Lance’s corpse. Poor guy. He was so sweet. I adjust my skirt and sit on the hard ground. The cold leeches at my body heat, but I ignore it. Check my jacket pockets. My phone must’ve fallen out at some point during the night. I’m so screwed, I think, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs for warmth. New vampires can’t go out in the daytime, and even the old ones prefer not to. Sebastian rarely does, and he’s so old, it’s like he’s petrified, and nothing can hurt him. Still, their natural hatred for light means I

need to rest now, so I can figure out how to escape. Sometime during the night, I fall into a restless sleep. Dashel is there in my dreams. He’s asking me to marry him again, and it's like I'm there. The night before my wedding, I can’t sleep. My friend Lucy stays up with me, and we talk for hours. In the morning, we go out to her garden and pick cream roses and tie a ribbon around them. After I bathe, she helps me dress and does my hair, playing lady’s maid even though I am the real servant. She even brings me up a platter of chilled flesh along with some cheese, crackers, and hot chocolate to wash it down. She’s excited for me too and asks if she and Will can come. I thank her but explain it’s going to be just Dashel and me. I want it that way. She reluctantly agrees but offers me her carriage. I’m giddy and can barely hold still. When the carriage pulls up in front of the London courthouse, I peer out the window, searching for my beloved. An hour goes by. Then two. Three hours before the man driving the carriage explains that he and the horses need a break. Confused, I get out and tell him to go. I sit on the steps to the courthouse all day. Waiting and waiting. When dusk rolls around, so does Lucy’s carriage. She’s in it, a look of concern on her lovely face. “What happened?” she whispers, helping me inside. “I guess he changed his mind.”

7

I wake to the sound of a tree branch snapping. At least, I think that’s what I hear. It’s light outside, which means the vampires are at their weakest. “Now’s the time.” I stand and stretch, working out the kinks. Then I jump up and grab hold of the beam over my head, pulling myself up to peer outside, hoping for a clue as to where I am. Trees, trees, and more trees are in every direction. Besides the log cabin and this little box of a prison, there isn’t anything else. Someone even cleaned up the dead vampire while I slept. The evergreens are so tall, and it’s hard to tell which way the sun is coming from. I pull out my switchblade and try to dig at the lock. Next, I work at the door hinges. Finally, I try to squeeze through the little opening between the door and the roof. Nothing works. My determination turns to fear. “Bloody hell.” It grates against my nerves that Sebastian might have been right. I shouldn’t have put myself in this situation because no one will come for me. The only person from this little town who might worry about me is dead. Maybe in a week or two, Sebastian will call to find out what I learned about the vampires. When I don’t answer, he might make inquiries. But I don’t want to remain locked up that long. My jail is no more than three feet by three feet square. Fully stretching out isn’t possible, so I remain standing. To the time, I train with my switchblade, try to the line dance those in the bar were doing last night, and even do some stretching—anything to take my mind off where I am and that I’m probably to blame for the vampires killing Lance. My guess is he went to the bar, and because I was late, they had the opportunity and took him. Damn my willingness to do a good deed. The consequences of my actions are unalterable. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t love Lance. It doesn’t even matter that our time together was new. He was a good guy. One of the best I met in a long while. Everything in me stings with guilt. Beyond my prison, I'm hyper-aware of every snap of a branch or any kind of noise. Sure, I’m immortal, but that’s only until someone severs my head from my body. Then all bets are off. Goddess of love or ghoul—neither will matter if that happens. And it’s probably what I deserve for

getting an innocent killed. By the time it’s dark again, I’m frustrated and thirsty. Sure, I’m a paranormal being, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have needs. Liquid refreshment is essential to ghouls like me. It’s late, probably close to midnight when I hear someone outside my cell. I take my blade and hold it, prepared to fight. When the door opens, I rush the vamp. It’s Byron. He grabs my hand, squeezing it until I drop the knife. Then he pulls me toward him like he intends to drink my blood. Instead, he flings me back inside. My body crashes into the back wall, and I tumble to the dirty ground. Before I can recover, another vampire, a female whose name I don’t know, chucks Lance’s dead body into my cell with me. “No,” I shout, my eyes on Lance’s frozen face. “Enjoy your companion. Before he died, he uttered your name. The human knew you. Let’s see how much that matters.” It’s like Byron now knows what I am. Or maybe he’s guessing. “Don’t leave him in here with me.” My voice is shaky. I feel like I might go insane. Byron slams the door and locks it. “He’s my gift to you. The only way you’re getting out of here is if I die, and that isn’t going to happen.” As I listen to Byron and the female vamp walk away, I fall to my knees. For the first time in a hundred and fifty years, I cry. Not that it’ll do me a damn bit of good. The next three days are the worst of my life. Trapped in the tiny box with Lance’s decomposing body. For three nights, I listen to the vampires partying while humans scream. I find myself pulling at my hair. Other times I cover my ears. More than once, I wish I was dead. On the fourth night, I hear the vampires exit their cabin, same as they have every other night since I’ve been here. They’re going hunting again. Byron should be smarter than he is, especially for his age. I’m not sure whether it’s because he’s blood drunk or what. My ear to the door, I listen as two different vehicles fill up

with vampires and drive away. It’s so quiet. I think I hear them reach the road. Tears leak onto my filthy cheeks as hopelessness settles over my skin. I glance back at Lance. The same night Byron put him in here, I propped Lance’s body, so it looks like he’s sitting. It doesn’t even cross my mind to eat him, and that’s saying something. My nature is that of a ghoul. But my feelings for him, while still new, are real. I glance at Lance’s swollen corpse. He no longer looks like the man who wanted to the FBI. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and wait for him to talk back. He doesn’t, and I blow out an embarrassed breath. “You were a good guy. I hope wherever your soul has gone, you’re happy.” As I’m speaking, I hear a noise. An animal is padding cautiously toward my cell, probably drawn by the scent of death leaking off Lance’s corpse. “Go away,” I holler as I use the beam to see what kind of animal has come. I’m betting a bear or a mountain lion. Ten feet away, a wolf is sitting on his hind legs, his twin yellow eyes staring at me curiously. “What are you looking at?” The wolf rises and comes closer. When he’s only five feet away, I can see he’s enormous like a wolf but much too fluffy. “Bear?” It’s the dog I released from the enchanted manacles. Too bad breaking me out of this enchantment isn’t as easy. He whines and wags his tail—not happily but more nervously. “It is you. I don’t believe it.” My arms are getting tired, but I don’t want to let go. “Think you can get me out of here?” I pause, then say the next thing that comes to mind. “Kill the vampire. Byron. By-Ron. Kill him, boy.” Bear trots over to the door and stands up on his hind legs, so we are almost eyeto-eye. Something about the way he looks at me sparks a memory. I shake it away. “Get the vampire Byron, Bear. If he dies, I’ll be free. Go on.” He barks and then whines once more before dropping back to all fours and padding away. When he reaches the log cabin, he turns around. Barks again and then takes off at a run.

“Somehow, I think he understands me.” I let go of the beam. My arms shake violently from the exertion, and I clutch them to myself. One hour es. Then two. I rest my head against one of the walls, too tired to move. Too tired to try to sit. Close my eyes and find myself drifting into a half-sleep. Thoughts of my time with Lance and Sebastian tumble through my mind. Mostly though, I think of Dashel. He never showed up on our wedding day. Lucy thought we should look for him, but I knew the truth. Dashel didn’t want to marry a freaky ghoul/goddess of love hybrid. Who would? I was too peculiar for someone as amazing as Dashel. Over the years, I thought about searching him out, but I couldn’t bear to see him with his imagined beautiful wife and their four fictional children. Then Ra returned and took away my goddess powers, and I emotionally shut down. It wasn’t long after that I took Sebastian up on his offer to work with the KPID in America. I just wanted to be as far as possible from the life I had in London and my greatest love. Lucy and Will had each other. They traveled back and forth from our time to the future and back again. Living their greatest adventure together. They didn’t need me, and we lost touch. I probably made them angry. Or maybe they found Dashel, and he asked them not to tell me what became of him. If I were them, I would’ve chosen Dashel too. While I’m wallowing, there’s a strange pop. I open my eyes to see the walls shimmer blue for the briefest moment before they return to normal. “What the hell?” I go to the door and crank the handle as hard as I can. It breaks off in my hands, and the door swings out on its hinges. “Holy shit.” My first instinct is to run away. Get as far from this place as possible. But I have to make sure I know how to get back. Lance is here, but I have a feeling there are a bunch more bodies inside the log cabin. The vamps intended to sell them on the Paranormal Dark Web, but their lust for blood was too strong.

I head in the direction I think the vehicles drove earlier. Even with my failing ghoul speed, it takes me more than forty minutes to get out to the main road. I can see the halo of lights in the distance, probably The Salty Chicken's neon sign. Part of me wants to go back there and kill all the vampires, but I’ve learned my lesson. I need backup.

8

Before going home, I stop at the twenty-four-hour Kwik-Mart and pick up a disposable phone, promising the store owner I’ll pay him tomorrow. It’s one of the positives of living in a small town. Along with my phone, my wallet is missing. The vamps are probably charging all of their drinks to my credit card. Outside, I dial Sebastian’s number. It’s been ingrained in my brain since telephones were first invented. He answers on the third ring. “Who the hell is this?” ‘ “Hey, Sebastian,” I say. My throat feels like sandpaper. My tongue is swollen. “Harriet? You didn’t follow orders, did you?” There’s bite in his voice. He isn’t happy. “I tried,” I say, crossing the parking lot and heading down the street. “I went to the bar just to scope things out, but the leader hit on me. One thing led to another…” I pause. “There are a lot of dead bodies, and the vampires don’t seem ready to stop anytime soon.” “You can tell me all about it when you get home,” he says. “Are you sending out some help?” I ask, surprised. But when I round the corner, that feeling increases. Sebastian didn’t send backup but came in person. The vampire leans on the railing on my floor. “Super.” I hang up and walk a little slower than before, frantic to collect myself. He’s good looking, no doubt. That’s not what has me frazzled. It’s his intensity. Where Byron was old, Sebastian is ancient. Even in eighteen hundred and fifteen, he was able to walk in the light like it was no big deal. I reach my floor and break the lock, grateful it isn’t cursed with a spell like the door to my prison had been. Shoving my door open, I wave him inside. “Welcome to my humble abode,” I say to Sebastian.

He sits on my couch before I get the door closed. “Give me details. Don’t leave anything out.” I beeline it to the kitchen sink and fill a cup with water, chugging it down. Then another. All while Sebastian watches me keenly. With the glass filled for the third time, I sit beside him, wishing he would let me take a shower. A miasma of death and sweat lingers around me like a fog. “Well,” I begin, but he holds up a hand. Plugs his nose. “Get cleaned up first.” His lips curl in a snarl. “You might want to burn those clothes while you’re at it.” I head over to my bedroom. “Still as charming as ever, I see.” He glares, but there’s a hint of friendliness in his eyes. “I’ll be quick.” I strip, putting my belt, which still holds my gun, extra clip, and switchblade on the bed. Sure, I could’ve shot the vampires, but it wouldn’t have done a bit of good. No sense wasting good werewolf bullets. In the bathroom, I turn on the shower. Climb in and wash everywhere in record time. After drying myself off, I rub the towel through my hair. Toss the wet curls in a bun without even combing through it first. Back in my bedroom, I slide on jeans and a tank top. It takes a few minutes to decide whether to put back on my combat boots or something else. I go for what I know and put on my boots. When I return to the living room, Sebastian is lying on the couch, his eyes closed. I envy him. It’s been days since I had a good night's sleep. Without preamble, I sit in my recliner, flip up the bottom, even though it’s broken, and tell him everything. Once or twice, while I’m speaking, I glance over to see if his eyes are open. For all I know, he could be asleep. When I get to the part where I see Bear, Sebastian sits up and opens his eyes simultaneously. “Take me to this bar.” “What are you going to do?” I ask. “There are twelve…” I begin and then stop, ing my orders to the giant dog. “I think the leader is dead.” Sebastian’s eyes flash in surprise. “You killed him?”

“That’s what I was about to tell you. Byron—the vampire leader, said the enchantment around my cage couldn’t be removed until he died. And well.” I shrug. “Since I’m out, I’m guessing he’s dead.” “But you didn’t do it?” He seems unsure, and I’m distracted. Sebastian always knows everything, or he acts like he does. “I think this dog I freed the other day did it.” I flick the recliner footrest down and stand. “But you don’t know?” “Nope.” “Perhaps you should take me back to the log cabin so I can assess the situation there first.” Sebastian doesn’t wait for me to answer but pulls out his phone and dials. “Yeah, boss,” a male on the other end says. “Put together a team and get out to Alden Pine, Colorado. I’ll text the coordinates as soon as I get them.” “We can be there in four hours.” “Excellent. Plan on at least a dozen for cleanup.” Sebastian hangs up. Checks the time. “Take me out to the vampire lair.” I suck on the inside of my cheek so I won’t say something I regret. “Let me get my jacket.” He is outside and down in the parking lot before I get the door closed. When I reach him, he wraps an arm around my waist. He’s much faster than a car. “Which way?” I direct him, and he’s moving us at speeds faster than I like. When we reach the highway, I step from his grasp to get my bearings. “Through here.” I take off, not wanting him to pick me up again, but my powers aren’t up to par and Sebastian sweeps me up in his arms.

“I smell them now,” he says. I hang on for dear life, keeping my eyes closed until he stops. When he releases me, he waves a hand in front of his nose. “I can smell the dead and you all over this place.” “Damn, Sebastian, tell me how you really feel. Don’t hold back.” I laugh harshly and move toward the three by three hut. “Here’s one—Lance,” I say as guilt claws into my heart. “He was a friend.” “More than a friend, I think.” “Yeah, so?” I bite the inside of my cheek, this time fighting back guilt. He shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I know how hard it is for you.” Pity flits across his face. That irks me, but I shove down my feelings. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I stomp off in the direction of the log cabin. I’m so mad, I forget to be careful. As soon as I open the door, I see my mistake. The other female I saw when I was brought in is on top of a half-naked man, drinking from his neck. She lifts her head, dazed, her eyes out of focus. Blood haze. Red liquid covers her mouth and on one cheek. Sloppy. Sebastian would never make such a mess. Her eyes flash into focus, and she comes at me. I pull Laura from under my shirt, but I’m not fast enough. Sebastian has her in a headlock before I can think. Her head is detached from her body in the next millisecond. “Harriet, what’s gotten into you?” He kicks the vamp’s body out of the way and tosses the head, then looks around the room. Blood is everywhere. Like they used it to decorate. “Dude, I haven’t eaten in four days and my powers aren’t what they should be.” I slump into the nearest chair. “But it’s more than that. I—it’s Lance,” I it. No sense denying it.

“Get out. Hide in the woods. I’ll call for you when it’s finished.” Sebastian looks around, and I follow his gaze. There are six dead that I can see. “I can help,” I say mournfully. His eyes flash, and for the briefest moment, I the first time I met him. It was at a party at his house. Back when he was the Duke of Vladimir. He was frightening then, but he’s scarier now. “The other vampires are coming, and you will only slow me down.” “Fine.” Beyond Sebastian, on the other side of the room, there’s a flash of metal. “My machete.” I rush over and pick it up off the floor. It’s covered in blood. “I can help now.” He rolls his eyes. “Please, get into the woods, Harriet.” I clench my hands into fists and stalk out and into the trees. About the time I stop, I hear the vampires. Or, more specifically, the whimpering of another victim. “Please,” she sobs. “Don’t hurt me.” The vampires laugh. They are distracted by the human’s blood and their blood lust. Arrogance is a paranormal’s biggest weakness. These vamps don’t even take the time to smell for danger. Idiots. Sebastian glides noiselessly out the front door. For a moment, I think of the wild west. A standoff is about to go down.

9

A female cuts in front of the rest and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and she starts to shake. Finally. I can tell the moment she understands who she's dealing with. All of her arrogance is replaced with fear. “Welcome,” she says, holding out her hands. “Thes—” Her head is torn from her body before she can finish. The others—there are ten—can’t do more than try to run. But it’s no use. They are all dead within sixty seconds. My head is spinning, watching Sebastian tear a path of destruction. When he’s finished, he doesn’t look any different than the moment before. He’s calm, steely, and without remorse, and without a speck of blood on him. There have only been a few times in my life I’ve seen him like this. The last was August 14, 1969, the day before the historic festival known as Woodstock was to take place. Reports claim only three young men died during the festivities even though more than four hundred thousand people turned up for the rock and roll event. Technically, that’s true. But in the two weeks leading up to the event, ninety-seven bodies were discovered in the small town of Bethel, New York. When the KPID caught wind the town was a hot spot for vampires, Sebastian ordered a team of twelve to handle the situation. All who work for the KPID are supernatural, the same as those we pursue. So when the team hadn’t reported in after six days, Sebastian took me, and together we went to find our colleagues. Rather quickly, we discovered them all dead. After that, Sebastian and I hunted down the vampire clan with single-minded fury. They were staying at a farmhouse about a mile from where Woodstock would take place. That night, Sebastian killed no less than thirty vampires while I handled three. No one else survived.

“Harriet,” Sebastian barks, bringing me back to the present. The human is crying harder now. And why wouldn’t she? Grisly murders just occurred all around her. Blood covers her like Carrie in that one movie with the pig’s blood. I step out from behind the tree as Sebastian takes the woman’s face in his hands. “Stop crying and be quiet,” he orders harshly, then pushes her away. Compulsion. My least favorite thing about vampires. The woman spins around and falls to the ground. Silent. Her features are frozen in terror. Sebastian sighs and helps her stand, holding her gaze. “You are going to focus on me. Nothing else.” She nods. “Don’t be afraid.” He wraps an arm around her waist. Glances back at me. “I need you to get her cleaned up.” I follow him inside the log cabin. He walks her into the bathroom, closes the shower curtain to hide the dead body in the bathtub, and turns on the water in the sink. Then he steps back. “Harriet is going to clean you up and help you change.” She swallows and nods as I come in. “Hi,” I say softly. “Let me help you out of your clothes.” When the young woman is undressed down to her underwear, I use a towel and some warm water to clean her up. Her short hair, which is supposed to be blond, is covered in blood. I stick her head in the sink and rinse it until the water runs clear. Wrap it in a towel. Then head into the bedroom in search of something that might fit. She’s a curvy girl, and I decide on men’s jeans, socks, and a sweatshirt. Mascara smudges under her eyes, but at least there isn’t any more blood. By the time I’m finished helping her dress, the agents Sebastian called arrive by helicopter. An hour later, the place is sparkling and smells of bleach and fabric softener. One of the agents, another vampire, takes the girl, and I don’t see her again. My guess is he took her home.

I watch as two men retrieve Lance’s body. A witch casts a spell to hide the bite marks. That way, when his body is discovered, there won’t be questions. My heart still aches over his death. I finally let myself have feelings. He was worth it, but it’s hard to be heartbroken. No one will miss me when I’m gone. But Lance’s family? They will be devastated. He will be missed and mourned over. “Hey.” Sebastian hands me my wallet. I peek inside to my license, cash, and single credit card with a thousand dollar limit are still there. “It was in the weeds near the road.” He rests a hand on my back. I take it and step from his grasp, angry. Not at him, but he’s just lucky enough to get it directed his way. “Don’t touch me.” I take a deep breath, trying to settle. “Thank you,” I eke out. Sebastian nods, scrutinizing the group as they put the finishing touches on their cleanup. “It isn’t your fault,” he says. The words come out like he’s an authority of where and when to lay blame. “Actually, it is.” I study my hands, rubbing them together. They’re clean, but they feel dirty, like Lance’s blood is permanently embedded under my nails and in my skin. “Your phone was found too, but it was crushed and useless.” “Super,” I snap, rubbing my palms on my shirt. “I have another job for you,” Sebastian says, ignoring my attitude. “Thanks, but I’ll .” I want to go home and sleep for a week. “That isn’t an option, I’m afraid.” Sebastian is watching me, a hint of amusement on his face. “Why not?” I’m not interested in whatever is going on in his head. “Because this comes from the very top.” Sebastian faces me, looking every bit the Duke he was raised to be.

“The Boss?” I , my interest piqued as I shove my wallet in my back pocket. It’s too big and pokes out. Sebastian shakes his head. “His boss,” he says quietly. I blink several times. I didn’t know that was a thing. There’s no point asking who this Boss’s Boss is since neither of us knows The Boss's name. “What’s the job?” Maybe it’s precisely what I need. To lose myself in another case. He doesn’t respond right away. I don’t have the energy to ask him again. For several minutes we stand in silence, observing the team as they finish their jobs and climb into the helicopter one at a time. With all the trees around it’s a wonder the enormous piece of machinery was able to land, let alone take off. My guess is magic is at play. Finally, the pilot salutes Sebastian as the helicopter lifts off the ground and hovers without moving like it's waiting for something. Dirt and leaves swirl in the air. A strand of my hair escapes my bun and whips across my face. Frustrated, I push it behind my ear. Sebastian steps forward, and I realize he’s going to leave with the rest of them. I’m not sure whether to be offended or relieved. He looks over his shoulder. “You are to find your true love, Harriet.” I laugh harshly, waiting for him to crack a smile and tell me he’s kidding. “You’re joking, right?” “Not even a little bit, I’m afraid.” He rolls his eyes. I’m back to irritated. “What concern is it of theirs? Vampires just murdered the only guy I had any feelings for in the last fifty years.” Sebastian faces me. Shoves his hands in his front pockets. “Look, I don’t like this either. Part of me wishes you and me…” He doesn’t finish but shakes his head. “Dashel Rothchild. Find him.” “What the hell, Sebastian?” Why would he bring that man up? He broke my heart.

“He is your true love,” Sebastian says but doesn’t seem happy about it. “It’s about time you figured out what happened to him.” “So, this Boss’s Boss doesn’t expect me to get together with Dashel? Because the man was human. He’s been dead over a hundred years.” I want to pull my hair out with frustration, but I stay perfectly still, afraid that if I move, I might shatter. “He wants me to find his bones? Where he’s buried? How he died? What?” “Yes to all of it,” he says, a look of wonder filling his face. “You never tried to find him?” His question exposes his surprise. “I would’ve thought—” “No,” I snap, cutting him off. “Well, I can tell you this. Dashel made his way across the ocean. He arrived in New York in 1822 and headed west a few years later. The last intel we have on him is that he settled out here.” “In Colorado?” My pulse is racing. Confusion and hurt fill every inch of my skin. What the hell? “It wasn’t called Colorado at the time, but this town was here long before that. He helped establish it in 1860.” I’m beyond stunned. Out of all the places in the United States I could’ve gone, I wound up in the same town as Dashel. “Okay,” I say, too overwhelmed to fight anymore. “I’ll look into it.” I pause. “Am I to report my findings to you?” “If you want, but it isn’t required.” Sebastian turns. “Goodbye, Harriet. And good luck.” In the blink of an eye, he jumps into the helicopter. As it starts to rise I watch him go, my mind whirling like the blades on the helicopter.

10

When I get back to my apartment, I’m exhausted. It doesn’t matter that I have work to do, like get a new lock for my entrance. “I just need a few hours of sleep,” I say to no one as I push the couch in front of my front door to hold it closed. I remove my boots, clothes, and my non-waist trainer in the bedroom before falling onto the bed. I lie there for a while. Thoughts of Lance, Sebastian, and Dashel, especially Dashel, fill my mind. And I try to make a plan. The library should have pictures and articles about the town’s founders. I’ll start there just to Sebastian is telling the truth. A wisp of excitement fills my belly, and I don’t know why. Fatigue overtakes me, and I know the sensation stems from my need for closure. I’ve held on to my grudge against Dashel for too long. It’s time to find out what happened to him, and let him go. My phone, the one I bought at the Kwik Mart, the one no one except Sebastian has the number for, wakes me. It’s still dark outside. From the clock on my nightstand, it says it’s a little after nine o’clock in the evening. I slept for eight hours. “What?” I growl, answering the phone, thinking it's Sebastian. “Harriet?” It’s a familiar female voice, but I can’t place it. “Speaking.” I sit up, pushing my mop of fuchsia hair out of my eyes. “It’s Julia. Julia Hikrom,” she says and lets out a sob. “Hi.” I’m confused by her call. We found her fiancé’s dead body. Case closed. What more could she need? “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” First, I need to know that. “Oh, my friend Sebastian gave it to me. He called out of the blue earlier today and said you would be happy to help me further with my… ghost problem.” I’m stunned. “You know Sebastian Barrows?” I clarify, just to be sure.

“Sure, he’s a family friend.” She sounds sincere. “I think someone is haunting me,” she continues, her voice unsteady. Then she whispers, “It might be Garrison’s ghost.” I blink several times and take a glass filled with old soda from my nightstand, chugging the flat brown liquid. It tastes worse than human flesh, and I spit it back out. “Why?” I ask, climbing out of bed. It’s rare for ghosts to stick around for long after their body dies. Usually, if there is a ghost, it’s because it has unfinished business. I walk into the kitchen and fill up a glass I think is clean with water from the tap. “There’s some stuff I didn’t tell you. Can we meet?” I’m seething inside, but not at Julia. I’m not okay with Sebastian meddling in my life. “I can meet you. Where?” “My house. Then I’ll show you what I mean.” She pauses. “Unless… is Dashel available?” At his name, I scowl. Take another drink and almost gag. “Text me the address, and I’ll be there shortly. “There is no Dashel, is there?” Julia asks, but she doesn’t expect an answer. I hear the certainty in her voice. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hang up and lean against the counter. If Julia is being haunted, it’ll be tricky to get her deceased fiancé to leave. A silver bullet, switchblade, or machete won’t do the trick. Burning sage is helpful, but before doing that, it’s best to have a conversation with the ghost and find out what’s wrong. I take a quick shower. Dress in my usual jeans, tank, gun belt. Also my black jacket and boots. At the mirror, I wipe away the steam and study my reflection. My eyes are bloodshot, drowning out the medium blue color of my irises. I’m starving, but not for food. I need more flesh, which makes sense after the last few days I’ve had. But I’m out. The hand in my freezer was the last of my stash. Brushing out my hair, I leave it to dry naturally. Put on a little gloss and mascara. Then head to the front door. It’s then I I don’t have my truck. Hopefully, it’s still at The Salty Chicken and hasn’t been towed.

I clip on my concealed carry belt, thankful it is still loaded with my weapons. Retrieve the spare key from the safe. Shove the couch out of the way and open the door. It’s a beautiful night. The moon a waxing gibbous while millions of stars twinkle like the sky has no awareness of the atrocities that occurred in the woods. I take the steps down to the parking lot slowly. Walk across the asphalt and turn left. Then speed up, keeping out of the streetlights until I reach The Salty Chicken. It’s already busy. Country music leaks from the building. The woman’s voice is filled with twang and angst and heartache with a little sensuality thrown in. My truck is still there and I head for it. “Hey, Action,” I say softly, unlocking the driver’s side and climbing in. He’s been sitting five days, and it takes a minute to turn over before roaring to life. “Way to go.” I back out and make my way across town. There isn’t much to see, especially at night. All the lights are off inside the buildings, but I the grocery store, followed by a medical clinic that doubles as a veterinary office. There’s also a bakery. Two coffee shops, a diner, and a halfway nice restaurant. If anyone in town is inclined to get fancy, they have to drive forty minutes to get to Denver. When I reach the address Julia gave me, there’s a double gate made of metal and a box to the left with a button. I roll down my window and stretch out to press it. “Who is this?” a grumpy male voice barks. “Harriet Everly. I’m here to speak with Julia Hikrom. Is she available?” The person on the other end doesn’t respond, but there’s a buzzing sound, and the gate clicks open. While I wait for it to swing wide enough that I can get through, something lands in my truck bed with a thud. I glance in my rearview mirror. An enormous shadow blocks the entirety of my back window, and yellow eyes lock in on mine. For the briefest moment, I think it’s a wraith. I ran into one of those once. They are ghosts who’ve gone insane. Their insanity comes with powers so strong, it’s almost like they are corporeal again. Definitely not a paranormal entity to mess with.

But before I can freak too much, the shadow opens its mouth and barks. “Bear.” Relief washes through me, followed by confusion. “How the hell?” I don’t finish because the gate starts to close in front of me. Instead, I floor it and make it through just in time. Bear stumbles backward, and I momentarily fear he’ll fall out. But he’s likely been taking care of himself for a long time. I have no doubt he’ll continue to do so. Still, I have questions. Like, how did he know this truck was mine? How long has he been waiting? If only Bear could talk. The drive is about two hundred yards and paved with embedded stones interspersed with moss. My headlights flash into the night, revealing the enormous house. It reminds me of the Duke of Vladimir’s place in Italy. Lights hang under the mansion's eaves illuminating the white front face. Swirling bushes line either side and stand in giant pots like sentries at the entrance. I pull just past the massive double doors and park parallel to the house. As soon as I’m out and shut the door, Bear whines. “It’s okay, Bear. Stay here. I’ll be back.” I debate whether to pat his head. He’s leaned it over the side, so we are face to face. He’s a handsome fella. “Good boy,” I say. He barks in response and follows me as I walk the length of the truck bed. “Stay,” I tell him again, though I’m unsure why it’s so important. He isn’t my dog, but I feel responsible for him. And I owe him for killing Byron. I shrug, running my fingers through my mostly dry hair, then I climb the steps and knock. Before I can drop my hand, the door flings open. Julia wears silk pajamas and a matching robe. No makeup on her face and her hair is hanging in a ponytail. Standing in the entryway like that, she looks even younger than I originally thought. “Hi,” she says, pulling me inside. “Thanks for coming.” “It’s what I do if I want to get paid.” I hope that’s hint enough. “Right.” She goes to a room left of the front entry, a coatroom. She grabs her

purse, opens her wallet, and takes out all the cash. “Another six hundred should be enough?” She watches me with interest. I’m catching a theme. She always has six hundred in cash in her purse. Curiosity makes me want to ask why, but I don’t. “This is fine,” I say, stuffing the bills into my coat pocket. “Now, tell me what’s going on.” Often, when someone thinks their house is haunted, there’s a perfectly logical explanation that has nothing to do with the paranormal. Once, a couple kept hearing the upstairs shower in use every night around the same time. Turned out, a vagabond shimmied up the tree in the back of their house and used the facilities when he believed the owners were asleep. She walks away, and I follow. “First, I need to tell you something.” She glances back, looking guilty.

11

“Okay.” For some reason, I’m nervous but do my best not to show it. Julia leads me down a hall and into a formal living room. “Have a seat.” She indicates a chair before making her way over to a cart of alcohol. Lifts the lid and pours three fingers of amber liquid into a glass. I lift my eyebrows but don’t comment on the amount. “You want one?” she asks. “I’m working,” I say, holding up a hand. “Right. Good call.” She smiles and comes to sit on the loveseat across from me. Her hands are shaking slightly. I wait patiently, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back while Julia guzzles down half the liquid in her glass. It’s apparent whatever she has to tell me, it’s a big deal to her. I get that she might need liquid courage to spill. She pauses a moment and then polishes off the drink, setting the tumbler on the table beside her. “This place,” she says, pausing and looking around. The room has thirty-foot ceilings with a whole wall of windows. At the moment, the curtains are shut, but I have a feeling she has quite a view. “It used to belong to our parents.” “Our?” I ask. “My twin sister and me.” She rises and refills her glass before returning but doesn’t drink it right away. “When I was nine, my parents told me my sister, Amanda, died.” “I’m so sorry,” I begin, but she holds up a hand. “It was a lie. She wasn’t dead. They just had her institutionalized.” She lifts the glass to her lips but doesn’t drink. “When I found out, I was livid. All that time

mourning the loss of my twin. For years it felt like someone had their hand around my heart and were intent on crushing it.” “What was wrong with her?” I feel like that question is innocent enough, but Julia glares. “When Amanda returned to us—to me—the pressure around my heart vanished. I felt light and happy. At first.” She sips her drink. I wait for her to go on, figuring she’ll eventually answer my question. “She escaped the facility where she was kept and made her way home. My parents were angry and demanded she go back, but I had my twin sister back and begged them to let her stay. They weren’t happy about it but finally relented as long as she promised to see a therapist and continue on her medications.” Julia taps her finger on the glass, a faraway look in her eyes. “Within a month after my sister returned, my parents became ill. Lethargic. No appetite.” She swallows and looks down. “Dad died first. Mom a few months later. The house and everything they owned went to me.” Julia polishes off the drink. “A few weeks after my mom’s funeral, Amanda asked me about the paperwork. If I had a will and that sort of thing. I didn’t think anything of it. Until I started to feel sick too.” I know where this story is going, but don’t interrupt. She looks at me, her expression making it clear she knows I know. “Yep, my bitch of a twin sister poisoned my parents and was trying to kill me off too.” She shakes her head. “By this time, I had met Garrison, and we were dating. Later, I found out she pretended to be me more than once. She slept with him. Often. More than he and I did.” She closes her eyes a moment, sips her drink. “While she was out one night, Garrison and I packed up all her shit and tossed it onto the road. I had all the locks changed, all the s, but more than that, I drove into Denver and got a spell from a witch.” I uncross my legs and lean forward. Every time I’m with Julia I like her more and more. She’s a ballsy woman. “It was just supposed to alter Amanda’s appearance, so Garrison could tell the difference between her and me. Change her hair and eye color. Something obvious.” She covers her mouth a moment and seems lost in thought. “The witch

said the potion would mark her as well. That it would be visible and Amanda would be unable to cover it up, no matter what.” “Okay.” I don’t like where this is going. Some witches like to leave a calling card, so other witches will know whose work they are witnessing. “The next day, Garrison and I invited her over for dinner. I put the potion in Amanda’s drink. It worked quickly, and her eyes changed from brown to green, followed by her hair. It went from brunette to red…” Her voice trails off. “I’ll take a drink now, if you don’t mind,” I say, because I hate magic almost more than I hate compulsion. At least vampires can’t compel me. But if the spell is strong enough… “Oh, sure.” She pours me a glass of the amber liquid and hands the thick tumbler to me. “Thanks.” I take a sip. It’s brandy. Yuck. “So the spell worked too well?” I ask kindly. “Yes,” she its, returning to her seat. “The mark is awful.” Julia shakes her head. “From the information I've collected, sometimes, if a person has even an inkling of magic, a certain kind of spell can take hold and reshape the person into a magical creature.” I’ve heard of this. It’s very rare. “And that’s what happened to Amanda?” Julia is nervous again. It doesn’t seem like the alcohol is having any sort of effect on the woman. “More or less,” she finally says. “After it happened, Amanda,” she stops and shakes her head. “The mark is a deep and jagged scar that runs from under the left eye down to her clavicle.” She draws a line with her pointer finger as she speaks to show me what she means. “When Garrison and I began to freak out, she ran to the mirror. Anger doesn’t even being to describe Amanda’s reaction. Before she left, Amanda swore she wouldn’t stop until she took everything from me, including Garrison.” Tears fill her eyes then. “She succeeded.” She blows out a big breath, grabbing at her chest. She’s still mourning the loss of her parents and her fiancé. That’s a lot of deal with already. “You think Amanda killed Garrison?” I forget what I’m holding and gulp down the liquid. It’s disgusting, but I swallow it, so I’m not impolite.

She sniffles, sipping on her drink. “I think she would do anything to have her appearance back, and I think she tried to use Garrison to perform a spell that would do it. That he died was just icing on the cake.” “But she didn’t succeed in finishing the spell.” At least, I don’t think so. It occurs to me Julia still never told me what’s wrong with Amanda. “Right.” Julia sighs heavily. “She’ll be back.” I set the drink on the coffee table in front of me. “So, why do you think Garrison is haunting you?” That’s why she called. “I think, or I hope he’s trying to warn me or tell me something about Amanda.” A wild look crosses her face. “I don’t know. I just miss him so much.” Tears wet her cheeks, leaving a trail before dripping onto her lap. There’s a tissue box next to me, and I hand her one. “You haven’t seen him? His ghost, I mean?” “No.” She shakes her head like that would be terrifying. “But a few days ago, the lavender sweater he said brought out my eyes was on the floor in my closet.” She squeezes her hands together. “I know I folded that sweater and put it away. I couldn’t bring myself to wear it after what happened.” She chokes back a strangled sob. “I can’t wear anything he gave me, not even the earrings he gave me and I wanted to wear them to the funeral.” She’s rambling, not that I blame her. She loved Garrison. “Okay.” Still, that doesn’t mean it is Garrison’s ghost. It’s possible one of the maids tried it on, and hurried away from Julia’s closet before she got caught. “What else?” “The lipstick I wore—the color he had made specifically for me—I found it in the bathroom sink yesterday. And tonight, music began playing from the speakers inside the house, but not just any music. It was his favorite song.” She rubs her arms like she has goosebumps. “I didn’t tell the app to play a song.” “I see.” Nothing she’s said seems particularly alarming. All of these occurrences are easily explained away. More likely, her sister is tormenting her. But Julia already paid me. I’ll do my due diligence and make sure there isn’t a ghost. “Take me to where each incident happened,” I say, standing.

12

As I follow her up the steps to the second floor, I take in the railing made of shiny wood and iron. Everything is so lavish, I worry she’ll make me take off my shoes, but she doesn’t. Probably because she isn’t the one who cleans. Upstairs, she walks me down a vast hall to the master bedroom. For a moment, I feel like I’m back in the Channing house where I served all those years ago. “In here,” Julia says and disappears beyond an opening. “This is your closet?” A child could get lost in here. Hell, I could get lost. Her closet is bigger than my whole apartment. We racks of dresses, gowns, blouses, scarves, shawls, and slacks on our way to a bank of white cubbies for hats, countless shoes, and sweaters in every color. I’m surprised she re which one Garrison gave her. A dozen drawers are interspersed between the cubbies and filled with who knows what. Chairs surround an island with a round silver mirror and tissue box on top. Julia stops in front of a stack of all different shades of purple sweaters. Without responding to my question, she retrieves one of them. “This is the one Garrison gave me.” She sniffles. “And you found it how?” She walks to the island and drops it to the floor. “Right like that.” “I see.” I fight to keep the skepticism from my voice. “And the lipstick?” She leaves the sweater and walks out of the closet and into an equally impressive bathroom. Double sinks. A makeup table. An enormous tub and a separate shower. She pulls out a white leather chair and sits before opening a drawer. “I always keep my lipsticks in here.” She picks up a gold case and drops it in a white marble sink. “But it was like so.” I don’t tell her she should probably fire her maid. “Nothing else is out of place?” I ask, peering inside the open drawer. Lipstick tubes are lined up neatly at the

front of the drawer, while foundations, liners, glosses, and eyebrow stuff, are organized in little totes. “No.” She places her hands on her hips. “Okay,” I begin, and that’s when I see him. Garrison’s ghost is hovering behind Julia. He puts a finger to his lips. I clear my throat. “Do you mind if I have a minute alone in here? I need to get a feel for the surroundings and see if I can find anything ghost-like.” I nod for encouragement. Julia scrunches her eyebrows together. “Um, okay. Sure. When you’re finished, come back downstairs. I’ll be in the living room.” “Great.” I tuck my hands into my front pockets. “Thank you.” She studies me a moment before closing the door. I stand in the same spot, watching the ghost until I can’t hear her footsteps any longer. While I wait, Garrison’s form floats over. He was a handsome man. Trim. Perfectly coiffed and manicured. The kind that looks like he just came from a country club. “Can you hear me?” he asks, waving a hand in front of my face. “Yes, and I can see you, too,” I respond, stepping back. His ghostly shoulders sag. “I really am dead, then?” “Afraid so.” I return to the leather chair and sit. “My name is Harriet Everly, and you’re Garrison, correct?” “Well, I was.” He sounds so sad. I feel bad for him, but there’s nothing I can do to reverse his demise—at least nothing that doesn’t involve a lot of black magic and dark shit I have no desire to delve into. “Want to tell me what happened?” Garrison crosses his arms. “You mean how I died?” “If you .” Sometimes they don’t. If the event is too traumatic, the

victim blocks it out. “I got a text from Julia’s phone asking me to meet her at the place where you found… my body.” Garrison drifts over to the mirror, looking lost. His reflection is evident to me, but I’m not sure he can see himself, and I don’t ask. “But it was her sister, Amanda?” I stand beside him and study my reflection. I can’t the last time I wore a full face of makeup. “Julia told you about her twin sister?” He seems relieved and drifts away from the mirror and over to the tub. “Yes, the whole sordid story up until you were murdered.” “She—Amanda can do witchcraft, although not very well. She told me one of her ancestors lived in the shack where you found me for more than a hundred years ago and that she somehow ed all of her spells on to Amanda.” “Okay?” I’m trying to be interested, but I can’t help thinking of Bear. How long had he been chained to that place, and why hadn’t he died? Did he know the witch who lived there, or did he know Amanda? Had he been called to the house like Garrison, and then was he tricked? Garrison continues, “When I arrived at the shack, I was barely out of my car before I felt something come over me. It was uncontrollable.” He glances away like he’s embarrassed. “What kind of spell?” I return my focus to the ghost, ing what Julia said about Garrison’s car. It had been back at her house and not in front of the shack. Amanda must’ve returned it. “All I know is Amanda appeared at the entrance to that shitty place, and I had to have her, like in the Biblical way, if you catch my drift.” He still can’t look at me. “So you screwed her, and then what?” I ask dryly. “Crass, but yes. Afterward, we fell asleep. And when I woke, I was tied to the floor on my back, spread eagle, and unable to move. She talked about a sevenpoint star and said she was going to do a spell that would rid the scar on her face

and that she was going to use me to do it.” “Julia told me about the spell she placed on her sister. Didn’t you see the scar on her face when you first got there?” I cross one leg over the other, prying for more details. How innocent was this guy? “Not that I .” He shakes his head. “She took a knife from off the dining table and started to carve that symbol you saw on my body—” I hear a noise and raise a hand for him to stop talking. Tilt my head to one side and listen. But there’s nothing. “Go on.” “She wasn’t able to finish with the knife before a dog started barking like crazy. That scared her, but she kept going until she heard a car coming down the street. Furious, she sliced into my thigh. I scorching pain like my leg was on fire, then cold and then nothing.” He shrugs again. “The next time I opened my eyes, I was like this.” He looks down at his ghostly form, his face sad. “Isn’t there supposed to be Heaven or something after this?” “Yes, but usually, if your spirit is still here, it’s because you have unfinished business. Now that you’ve explained what happened, I have a better understanding of the situation. It sounds like I need to go back to that shack and see what I can see. I think once I find Amanda and have her arrested for your murder, you’ll be able to move on.” As I speak, he nods. “Poor Julia,” he says. “I know. She really loves you.” I stand, ready to get to work. “I loved her, too, and that’s why I can’t let her see my ghost. It will be too hard for her and me.” I nod. “Was it you that knocked over the sweater, moved the lipstick, and turned on the music?” “No, that’s the thing. I thought it was Julia, but now I think it’s Amanda messing with her sister again. Probably trying to make her crazy.” “You didn’t see her face?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s like a dream. Things get distorted.” “Any idea why Amanda cut out your tongue?” I lean against the sink counter, resting my hands behind me. He sticks out his tongue. “Damn. Is it there?” “Yep,” I say, waiting for him to catch up. “I have no idea,” he finally responds, glancing at the ceiling. “I still can’t believe this is my life… or unlife now.” “I’m sorry, Garrison. But I think you’re right.” I tuck some hair behind my ears. “Julia is in danger. Amanda may go after her now.” I debate whether to call the cops and decide I should, but Garrison can help too. “What can I do?” He throws out his hands, pleading for me to tell him he can still be useful. “Watch Amanda. Make sure it’s her and everything she does and everywhere she goes. I’ll be back.” Since his memories are fuzzy, I don’t have a lot of hope, but at least he can try. “I can do that.” His lips curl in a grim smile. “Anything to keep Julia safe.” I go to the door. “Good. I’m also going to ask the police to keep an eye on the place too. Hopefully, that’ll deter Amanda from coming back.” “I like that. Good idea.” His smile gets bigger. “I’m glad Julia called you.” “Me, too,” I say, opening the door. “By the way, you’re handling this better than most in your situation.” “Really? Because I’m freaking out on the inside.” He chuckles harshly, and I see his calm exterior slipping. “Serious. You’re doing great. Just keep a lookout for Amanda, got it?” I laugh with him, trying to ease his mind. Wraiths are disgruntled ghosts who have basically gone insane. Julia won’t want one of those roaming her house, even if he used to be her fiancé.

“I will,” Garrison says.

13

Julia isn’t in the living room, where she said she’d be. “Julia?” When she doesn’t answer, I wait, thinking she might be in the powder room. A white baby grand piano is situated behind the couch and I walk over, lifting the lid. Many, many years ago, I took piano lessons. I play one of my favorite songs, enjoying the way the music sounds in the room. Any moment, I expect Julia to return and tell me to take my grubby fingers off her twenty thousand dollar piano, but no one comes, not even a maid. By the time I finish the song, I’m worried. “Julia?” I leave the piano and walk out of the living room and into what looks like a library or a smaller sitting room lined with bookshelves. Julia isn’t there, and I continue through, finding myself in an office. It’s at the front of the house, and I glance outside. Bear is pacing in the back of my truck, his tongue hanging out. I need to to get him some water, though as I’ve thought before, I have no doubt he can take care of himself. Glancing back at the desk, I rifle through the paperwork. There is a will and the deed to this house as well as other properties. They appear to have been pulled out in a hurry—more red flags. “Julia,” I shout. And that’s when I notice the suicide note. It’s stupid and basic and obviously coerced out of Julia. “Shit.” I rush from the room and into another and another, until I reach the kitchen. One of Julia’s shoes is lying on its side near the door. “Shit.” I open the door and jog across the concrete back deck until I reach the grass, and that’s when I see drag marks as well as Julia’s other shoe. Whoever took her, probably Amanda, dragged Julia into the woods. If I don’t hurry, Julia will wind up another dead body. I pull my phone from my pocket and dial the police. My least favorite person answers. “Deputy Carson, how may I help you?” He sounds so qualified. Not anything like the filthy loser he is in bed. And I guess when it comes to police work, he doesn’t suck at his job.

“Hey Tom, it’s Harriet. I need you to come out to Julia Hikrom’s place. It looks like she’s been abducted.” I don’t go back inside but walk around the house until I reach my truck. When Bear sees me, his tail starts to wag, and it looks like he’s going to jump out of the truck. I hold up my hand, not thinking he’ll understand that I need him to stop, but he sits. “How the hell do you know that?” Tom hollers. All professionalism out the window. “She asked me to come over today. She wanted to discuss some weird stuff that’s been happening at her house since her fiancé died.” I can practically hear his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Let me guess. She thought Garrison was haunting her?” “Something like that,” I it. “Turns out it wasn’t Garrison, but I think it was Julia’s twin sister, Amanda.” I pat Bear’s head. He’s so soft and clean. Somehow he got himself a bath. Immediately, some of my tension leaves. I scratch behind his ears. He licks my face. “I don’t know whether I should arrest you for taking that good woman’s money or arrest you for whatever you did to her, but I’ll be over in a few. Don’t you dare go anywhere.” He slams the phone down, leaving a ringing in my ears. “Deputy Tom Carson is an idiot,” I coo at Bear, taking his enormous face in my hands and squishing his fur as I touch his wet nose to mine. “Yes, you’re a good boy.” He licks my face again As I'm standing there, something important occurs to me. “Be right back.” I run into the house and up the stairs. Garrison’s ghost needs to know Julia is gone. Maybe he can track her somehow because she’s his unfinished business. Or something. “Garrison,” I say, running into the bathroom. He appears, scaring the daylights out of me. “What’s happened?” “It’s Julia. I think Amanda took her while you and I were talking.” I sound apologetic, and that feeling expands when Garrison’s face crumbles. “I knew it!” He walks through the wall.

I follow him into the bedroom as he goes to the window. “Can you track her?” “I’m not a damn dog, Harriet.” But he stops and holds very still as though he’s trying to be one for Julia. In the distance are the sounds of sirens. The police will be here soon. “Any idea where Amanda might take Julia? A childhood secret hideout? Something.” “Julia told me they used to play in the woods behind the house.” He shakes his head. “Something about a creek and a playhouse their parents had built in a tree.” He drops to his knees. “That’s it. “Hey, that’s great. Really great.” I take some lint from my pocket. “Some ghosts can track a person if they have their scent.” He says he isn’t a dog, but ghosts do have similar capabilities. I hold the lint up to his ghostly nose. Garrison makes a face. “What did I say?” He sounds mad, but he sniffs anyway. “Okay, I can smell you on that. He clasps his hands together. “Maybe I am a dog.” “So you can track me and Amanda and Julia? You have our scents?” I ask without replying to his dog comment. He’s trying hard not to be pissed. “Actually, I think I can.” He makes a face. “Well, I’ll be damned.” “Good. You go after them. I’ll stay here and talk to the police. Once you find Julia and Amanda, find me. And if I find them first, I’ll do the same. Deal?” I know I’m asking a lot. “I will.” He drifts through the window. I watch him float across the back yard and into the woods. At least he’s going in the right direction. Once he’s out of sight, I hurry back downstairs and make it outside as Tom’s police cruiser pulls up. He and his partner, a mousy woman whose name I don’t know, get out of the vehicle. “Where’d you get the dog?” Tom asks. Bear growls low, so I barely hear it.

“Easy,” I whisper. Then to Tom, “He found me,” I say and shrug. “Well, he might have rabies. You should put him down.” He walks over, his fingers tucked into his belt like the arrogant and cocky son-of-a-bitch he is. “Not gonna happen,” I say. Then smile at the woman. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Her features remain serious. “Yvette.” She glances sideways at her partner. “Deputy Miggs.” “Good to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand. She doesn’t take it. Tom seems pleased. “If we’re done with the niceties, why don’t you tell me what the hell happened? If Julia was taken, she could be murdered while you’re standing around, making introductions.” “Follow me inside. There’s a suicide note and some curious paperwork in her office.” I start toward the front door. “But no body?” Deputy Miggs asks. “No, I’ll show you what I found.”

14

After I give Tom and Yvette all the details, including the shoes and the drag marks, I show them the paperwork and the suicide note. More than an hour later, they let me leave. For a tiny moment, I think about sharing that I can see Garrison’s ghost and tell them what he said to me about Amanda and the shack out by Buckeye Joe’s. As soon as Tom opens his mouth, I change my mind. The fact that I’m a paranormal private investigator is only a joke to him and nothing to take seriously. As a final crushing nod to the fact that he thinks my job is worthless and so am I, Tom says, “This is a police investigation. Stay out of the woods. Stay away from this house. Let me do my job. I don’t want you anywhere near my crime scene or I’ll have no choice except to arrest you for obstruction.” I glance at Yvette who looks uncomfortable with the way Tom is speaking to me, but she doesn’t say anything. So much for girl power. “Fine,” I respond. Outside, I head to my truck. “You can ride up in front with me,” I growl out at Bear. Because I’m ticked. Tom is a grade A jerk. I can’t believe I wasted even a moment of my time with him. Bear whines and jumps out of the back and climbs inside as soon as I open the enger door. “You understand what I'm saying, don’t you?” I ask once the truck starts and we’re on our way. But I’m still irritated. I don’t like being told to sit in my hands while the “real cops” do their “real work”. As if I haven’t been running investigations since before their great-great-great-grandparents were born. Bear barks, his tail wagging back and forth at an alarming speed as he nudges my arm. Some of my irritation scatters as I scratch him behind one of his giant ears. It’s like Bear’s my therapy dog or something. “Yep, you can understand me,” I say, unable to help a small smile. The gates are open, and I drive through until I reach the road. I take a right onto Highway 50 and head toward town. Every once in a while, I glance at Bear. He’s sitting on

the seat, his head forward, his fluffy ears perked like he knows exactly what I’m doing. “While we wait for the police to do their thing, we should eat. I’m hungry.” My stomach chooses that moment to growl. “See?” Bear barks and pants excitedly. “You’re hungry too, aren’t you?” Bear scoots in closer, licking my cheek. “Okay, okay.” I raise my elbow, trying to block him, but he licks there too. I check the ashtray, which is where I hold my spare change. “I have a few bucks. How does a hamburger sound?” He tries to spin in an excited circle before sitting again, this time almost on top of me. “Get over on your side,” I order as he bumps my arm, causing me to swerve dangerously close to a car going in the opposite direction. They honk and flip me off. “Back at ya, jerk!” I pull into the restaurant and look over at Bear. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He barks but doesn’t move. After grabbing all of my change, I run into the restaurant. The smell of coffee and baked goods fills my nose, causing my mouth to water. “Want to sit?” The hostess asks. “Can I get it to go?” I glance at the menu in her hands. “Sure.” She holds out the menu. “Thanks, but I already know what I want.” “Okay.” Annoyance crosses her features, but she pulls a pad and pen from her pocket anyway. “What’ll it be?” I glance at the change in my hand and then the six hundred Julia gave me. I still owe her and I will figure out where and why her sister took her, but I have to be patient. Let the police do what they do even though it sucks. But I

won’t be any good to anyone if I’m in jail, and Tom will jump at any excuse to see me behind bars. “I’ll have two double cheeseburgers, extra cheese, fries, and two vanilla shakes.” She eyes the change. “You have enough for that?” I pull the wad of cash from my jacket pocket and snort. “Yep.” “Alrighty then. It’ll be a few minutes. Have a seat.” She walks away. I turn around about to sit. My eyes catch hold of one of the many black and white photos hanging around the restaurant. A group of six is seated in a booth. Three men and three women. I move in to take a closer look. The men are dressed sharply in three-piece suits, while the women are wearing beautiful dresses with sparkly headbands. I’m guessing it’s the nineteen twenties. But that isn’t what has my attention. “Dashel,” I whisper as thoughts of Julia settle in the back of my mind. I lean in close. He looks almost exactly the same. In the picture, he’s sitting on the end next to a beautiful woman with light hair and a bright smile. He’s looking at the camera, and she’s looking at him. I’m not jealous. Well, mostly, I’m not jealous. What’s weird is the woman looks a lot like Julia, if she were alive in the nineteen twenties. With my cheap ass phone, I snap a photo of the picture and save it. Is it possible Julia and Dashel are connected? Is that why Sebastian asked me to find him? It seems like too much of a coincidence that Julia and Sebastian called me on the same night. The waitress approaches. “That’ll be twenty-four dollars and ninety cents.” “Got it.” I tuck my change into one pocket and pull out two twenties. “Can I get ten back?” I ask as I hand her the bills. She takes my money and hands me back the ten. “Thanks for the tip.” “Thank you.” I glance back at the photo. “Do you know anything about when and where these pictures were taken?” I point at the one with Dashel in it. “Not a lot.” She comes around to stand beside me. “All photos hanging in the diner were taken here not too long after it opened.” She leans in and touches one

of the men. “This is Nathaniel Vicars. He started Benny’s back in 1925.” She points to the woman next to him. “That’s his wife, Rachel.” The hostess steps back. “My great-great-great… well, you get the idea. Anyway, one of my greatgrandmothers wrote in her journal that she and Rachel were friends.” She pauses and lowers her voice. “I read that beneath the diner was a speakeasy. Supposedly, people would come from all over to drink, carouse, and do whatever else they did in those places.” She smiles, smug. “Did she mention the last name Rothchild?” I ask, unable to pull my eyes from the picture. It’s impossible the man is my Dashel. He would have to be a hundred and twenty in this picture, but he looks the same as I him. He’s more likely a relative. “Hmmm, it’s possible,” she says. “I can check if you want.” “You’d do that?” I’m surprised. Most people aren’t quite so friendly, even after a tip. “I’m a huge history buff.” She smiles big. “I’ve dropped a few hints that I’d love to see the speakeasy, but the owner is either oblivious, ignorant, or,” she pauses and looks both ways, “it’s still in use.” She nods. “Still, until he tells me to stop asking, I’m going to keep trying.” I return her smile with one of my own. “It would be cool to see the place. Do you know where the entrance is?” This is a twenty-four-hour diner, but it’s pretty dead in here right now. I might be able to sneak in one night. “I think so,” she says, her voice only a whisper. “Order up,” a man from the back shouts. “Hang on.” The hostess rushes to the back, picks up the bag, checks it, puts the shakes in a to-go container, and brings everything over, handing it to me. “Come back in a couple of days, and I’ll tell you what I found out from my grandmother’s journal. I’m Leah, by the way.” “Good to meet you. My name’s Harriet.” Her smile turns mischievous. “You’re the paranormal investigator, aren’t you?”

“That’s me,” I say, hoping my job description doesn’t deter her. “Cool.” She smiles bigger. “See you in a few days, Harriet.” “Thanks, Leah.” I make my way out into the night. Bear isn’t sitting where I left him, and for a moment, I worry he somehow got out. But when I reach the truck, I see he’s lying down, his head on my seat. I open the door and slide in. Bear starts to sniff the bag excitedly. “Hang on.” I open it, pull out a burger, and unwrap it. “I got everything on it. I hope you like pickles.” He barks and prances on the seat with his front paws. His head bangs on the top of the car, and I can’t help but laugh. “Here you go.” I set the burger in front of him. He sniffs a moment before diving in. I eat a fry and place the shakes in the drink holder and go for my burger. By that time, Bear is finished and sniffing at the bag again. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad to eat so fast?” He barks happily. “So you want my burger too, I’m guessing?” He barks again. “Fine.” I unwrap it and hold it out for him. He sniffs it but doesn’t eat right away. He looks at me. “Don’t you want it?” He backs away like he knows it’s mine. “I swear you aren’t like any other dog ever,” I say and remove the fries, dumping them onto the wrapper. “Eat these, then.” He dives in before I finish talking. I eat another fry and then place the rest in a pile with the others. Then bite into

my burger. It’s so good. The combination of condiments—mayonnaise, catsup, and mustard—along with the cheese, pickles, onion, lettuce, and tomato add so much to the burger and the bun. My taste buds are in heaven. Bear still finishes before me, so I remove the lid on one of the vanilla shakes and hold it in one hand so he can lick the ice cream while I finish the burger. When we’re both done, I debate my next move. I want to go back to the shack. The police should’ve cleared it by now. Not only that, but they were probably in the woods near Julia’s house, searching for her and Amanda. “What do you think? Should we ignore Tom’s stupid orders and head over to the Buckeye Joe shack?” Bear is still licking his chops, cleaning up remnants from the shake, but when I speak, he whines. “I get it. You don’t like the place, and I don’t blame you. But if Amanda was doing magic there, then we’ve got to try.” Bear lays down so his body and head are angled my way. “You going to be brave?” He barks softly. I start the truck and pull out of the parking lot. We ride in silence. Bear closes his eyes, and I stare out at the lonely highway watching for wayward bunnies or deer. I also can’t stop thinking about Dashel or, more accurately, his posterity. What if he or his son’s son or whoever that is in the picture was part of the underground speakeasy? There are so many unanswered questions about the man I loved more than my own life. I should’ve searched for him sooner and demanded answers. “You ever been in love?” I ask Bear. He lifts his head, his eyes locking with mine. “I was once, but he broke my heart.”

Bear whines and scoots over, resting his head in my lap. “Thank you,” I say, grateful he can sense my melancholy and wants to help.

15

I’m not prepared for how hard my grief hits me when I arrive at the shack. Too long, I stare at the gate, the barbed-wire fence, and beyond to the museum where Lance used to work. I’d barely let myself start to care for the man, and he was murdered. It’s like I’m cursed. First, Dashel abandons me. Then two-hundred and whatever years later, I let down my guard just a sliver, and Lance is slaughtered by vampires. I am the common denominator. Both men knew me, and something happened to them. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and shut off my headlights. Bear lifts his head and stands. Shakes himself. Spittle and some of his fur get into my mouth. “Gross, Bear.” I spit, rubbing at my lips with the back of my hand. “You want to stay in the cab? I can go in and look around alone,” I ask, reaching across the seats and opening the glove compartment. It only takes a second to locate the plastic gloves. I retrieve them and close the box before opening my door. Before I can step out, Bear pushes by me and jumps down. “I guess that’s a no.” I follow him up the steps as a wash of gratitude flows along my skin. Is it strange I feel so much thankfulness for a dog? I’ve been working alone for a long time, and it’s nice having a companion around. Somehow I can tell he’s glad to be with me too. The screen, which was hanging on by a bolt the night I found Garrison’s body, is now lying on the porch. The door has a padlock on it, probably to keep partying teenagers out. “Any ideas?” I tug on the gloves and yank on the padlock, thinking it won’t break, but it does. Carefully, I set it on the ground beside the door and push open the door. It smells terrible in here. A combination of nose-burning aromas swirl around,

making it hard to think, let alone breathe. The strongest are bleach and sulfur. There’s a bloodstain on the ground near the kitchen, probably where Amanda stabbed Garrison before tossing his body into the bushes. I make my way into the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards. It’s all bare except for mouse droppings and years of dust. It’s strange Garrison said the place was so lavishly furnished. My guess is the spell made him see what Amanda wanted him to see. In actuality, they could’ve had sex on the floor. Beyond the living area is a small hallway that leads to a bedroom and a bathroom. They are empty as well. The police must have removed whatever furniture was in here when they searched for fingerprints or clues. “Not a damn thing,” I say after examining every room. Bear heads back to the door. I shake my head. “We aren’t going yet. It just means we have to look harder. We have to find something before the police make their way back to this shack. Because as much as I can’t stand Tom, he isn’t an idiot when it comes to police work.” Bear whines. “I know, but give me a second.” I cross my arms and do the unthinkable—take a deep breath. My eyes water as I search among the awful odors for that of magic. It’s there. Faint but distinct. It could be just because Amanda performed the spell here, and I’m smelling the leftover residue, but I don’t stop. Slowly, I retrace my steps and catch a more vital hint of magic in the bathroom. “Oh, please don’t be in the toilet.” That’s where the magic smell is the strongest. Carefully, I lift the lid. Dead rat stench hits my nose like a bullet. “Awful.” I cringe, dropping the lid. Bear, who followed me in, lets out a strange noise that sounds like he's in pain. He backs out and disappears. A moment later, I hear him scratching at the front door. I’m about to leave too but notice the broken ceramic cover on the back of the toilet. “Why not?” I shrug and remove it, setting in on the sink. Wrapped in a plastic bag is a book. It looks leather bound. “Shit. No way.” I can’t believe the police didn’t check here, but another whiff of the horrid stench smacks into my

nose, and I know why. Grabbing the book, I return the cover and hurry out of the bathroom. Tears leak down my face because the smell is so bad. Bear sees me coming and moves out of the way as I yank open the door and hurry out. He trails behind as I leave the porch. I don’t bother to close the door. The place needs to air out anyway. “We did it,” I say as we make our way back to the truck. Bear is beside me, looking up. He seems to be smiling, and I ruffle the top of his head. Open the door and wait for him to jump in. After I get in, I glance at him. “Let’s go home.” Now that I’m no longer in the shack amongst all the smells, I get a good whiff of the book and don’t like the stink. “Hang on.” I climb out and secure the book in a compartment near one of the wheel wells in the truck bed.

Pets aren’t allowed in my apartment complex. I never cared until now. Thankfully, it’s late. After he does his business, I sneak Bear up the stairs. I still haven’t replaced the lock and shove the door open easily. When we’re both inside, I push the sofa in front of the door. Bear watches me like I’m crazy. “What?” He barks. “No!” I put a hand over his mouth. “Quiet. No one can know you’re here, or I’ll be kicked out. Got it?” He wags his tail and is about to lie down on the floor. “Jump up.” I drop onto the sofa and pat the spot next to me before turning on the TV. Remington Steele is on. After a few minutes, I know this episode is called In the Steele of the Night. “This is a good one.” Anything to distract me from the fact that I should be out looking for Julia. I set down the remote and open the bag. The book still smells nasty but not as bad as before. Time out of that disgusting shack has helped. “Let’s see if we can find out why the hell she cut out his tongue.” I set the book on my lap and let it fall open. Both pages facing me are bent down at the corners. I look at Bear. “I’m thinking these two pages are important.” I pick up the book and begin to read. It’s a spell, alright. The list of ingredients on the left doesn’t include human tongue, but there’s an asterisk at the bottom with a note that says human tongue can strengthen the incantation. “Aha.” I’ll have to tell Garrison. Bear whines but doesn’t move. His head is on his paws, and he’s watching the TV show like he knows what’s going on. I don’t doubt it. I spend the next half hour flipping through the book, reading through spells, hexes, curses, and more. One curse in particular catches my eye. Titled: Contrario Mannaro. If my Italian is correct, then I think it means something like reverse or contrary werewolf. Most of the ingredients are things I don’t understand. The directions are strange as well. Only a god can perform it. But the basics of the spell mean the human is transferred into a werewolf all year except one day a month—on the full moon. I glance at Bear. “Were you cursed?” I ask.

He doesn’t move but his eyes find mine and he whines. “You aren’t a werewolf,” I say, petting the top of his head. “It’s okay.” His eyes flick back to the TV. I continue looking through the book. Another incantation called Morte Amorous catches my attention. A quick perusal reveals this could be the one Amanda used to kill Garrison. After Remington Steele, I turn the channel to the news. A man in a suit spoke about the weather. It’s supposed to get below freezing tonight and then warm back up to the fifties tomorrow. That’s Colorado, though. I’m about to shut off the TV when one of the newscasters mentions finding a dead body. As she talks, there is footage of Tom and his partner, Yvette, walking alongside a gurney with a white sheet over it. “We can report that the body belongs to that of Lance Carter. At this time, we don’t have any other information, but we’ll keep you appraised as we receive more information.” “I went to high school with Lance. He was a good guy,” the male news anchor says. The female beside him nods solemnly and clears her throat like she’s trying not to get emotional. She’s doing better than me. My heart twists like someone jabbed a knife into it. “I did that,” I say softly. Bear rests his head in my lap, nudging my side. Unconsciously, I stroke his fur. “We have more breaking news to share tonight as well. Let’s go out to Kelly Armstrong. She’s live at Julia Hikrom’s estate.” I find myself clinging to Bear’s fur, my eyes riveted to the TV as another woman appears on the screen. “Thanks, Mary. Behind me, you can see the police and the sheriff’s department are ing forces in the search for Julia. It’s believed she was taken from her home by force and dragged into the woods at the back of her estate. With such a high suspicion of foul play, they are searching the area. So far, they haven’t had any luck. They are asking that volunteers meet out at the Hikrom property to help in the efforts at six tomorrow morning, if Julia hasn’t

been discovered by then. We will keep you updated on the situation as there are developments.” “What about helping in the search now?” Mary asks. Kelly shakes her head. “That’s a good question. The combined forces are asking that no one start helping until they’ve completed their search and have verified that there is in fact foul play.” I look at Bear. “There’s foul play alright,” I say. “And I think we should provide some assistance. What about you?” He pants and licks my face. “Alright. Alright. I guess we better get some sleep.” I’m relieved that even though the opportunity to search for Julia is still hours away, at least I have plan. I put the book back in the plastic bag, turn off the TV, and head into the kitchen. I stuff the book into the freezer under the pork chops. Then grab a large mixing bowl from the cupboard. Bear is standing beside me as I fill the bowl with water and set it on the ground. He sniffs it and then takes a drink. “Take as much as you need,” I say and skirt around him, heading into the bathroom. Upon closing the door, I study my reflection. Dark circles have taken up residence under my eyes. Very soon, I’m going to need more flesh. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I enter my bedroom and strip out of my clothes. Bear walks in slowly as though he’s taking in my form. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re ogling me.” My old Def Leppard tee shirt is on the edge of my bed. I throw it on and climb into bed, pulling the covers up. Bear is still sitting in the doorway. I lean up onto my elbow, debating, but only for a moment. “Come on,” I say, patting the empty space beside me. His tail wagging happily, he jumps on the bed, curls into a fluffy ball, and lies down, his eyes on me. “What?” I whisper, thinking it looks like he has a lot he needs to say. The dog whines. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I scoot closer so I can pet him while still lying down. We stare at each other for several long moments until my eyes get tired, and I

can’t keep them open one more second.

16

The next morning, I shower while Bear is still asleep, curled up like an oversized grizzly in the middle of my bed. It’s way too early, but I want to get out and in the search for Julia and Amanda. If I start with the group, then I can do my own looking and ghoul-sensing without question. In the kitchen, I check my fridge. All that’s in there is expired cream cheese, some old bread, and questionable jam. After checking there isn't any mold on the bread, I toast two pieces, smear cream cheese and jam on top of one, and save the other for Bear. Breakfast tastes good, but it isn’t what my body needs, which is human flesh. Bear pads out of the bedroom. He’s so big, he can see over the countertops. “Here’s your breakfast,” I say, holding out the dry toast. “I know it isn’t a hamburger, but I’ll get you something better to eat after we search for Julia. Okay?” He sniffs the bread, gently takes it from my hand, and drops it on the kitchen floor. Looks up at me like I’m cruel. “I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t what I want either, but it’ll have to do. I’m worried we might be too late, and if Julia is dead, then who knows what Amanda will do next.” With my thigh, I push the couch out of the way. At my safe, I load up my gear, including Laura and my switchblade. I pull out my machete and the sheath I carry it in but decide against bringing it. If someone were to see the viciouslooking blade, it might start the gossip about me swirling again. I don’t need that. Bear presses his nose against my side and bounces up and down. It’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help the smile that forms on my mouth. It feels weird to experience joy for no good reason. But I like it. “I’m ready.” I take the keys off the entry table and open the door. And that’s when I

realize my mistake. “How the hell am I going to get you out of here without someone seeing?” I should’ve let him out while it was still dark. “Crap.” Bear seems to understand, but obviously, nature is calling, and he can’t avoid it. He runs to the railing and, in one motion, without slowing, leaps over it. From the seventh floor. “Bear!” I’m afraid for his life and run too quickly to peer over. He’s faster than I expect and has run across the parking lot and is on the other side of the street, making his way into the woods. “Holy shit.” I had no idea. Not that I doubted he’s more than a regular dog. But this? “Wow.” I hurry down the steps. When I reach the fourth floor, one of my neighbors is standing at the railing, smoking. Her droopy eyes catch hold of mine, and I pause, worried about what she saw. “Be careful out there. I just saw a bear leap down from off the roof.” Her words are calm and mellow. “A bear, huh?” I look up. “Yeah, it was the craziest thing.” She glances at the rolled t in her hand, then looks out toward the woods. “Thankfully, he ran off into the trees.” She smacks the side of her head. “Or maybe I imagined it?” She gives me a lopsided grin. “Never mind,” she says and goes back inside her apartment. I continue down the stairs, run to my truck, and climb in. On the road, I stop at the last place I saw Bear. He rises like a predator about to attack. I lean across the seat and push open the enger door. “Get in.” Bear hops up and sits. I have to reach across him to close the door, and he nudges my ear and cheek with his nose. An effing giggle escapes my throat. I look at him, scratching the side of his face. “I’m glad you decided to hang out with me, Bear.” He barks happily, his tail wagging. “Exactly.” I speed across town to Julia’s house. The gates are open with trucks, SUVs, and a few cars parked all along her drive. A few latecomers like me make their way to the back of Julia’s mansion. Bear and I jump out and jog down the mossy drive, past the side of the house, and into the backyard where Deputy Tom and Yvette are handing out orange vests and paper instructions about what’s

required, along with a map. Tom sees me and glares. I ignore him, hanging back until the group he’s speaking with heads into the trees with Yvette in the lead. “We found Lance. Did you see the news?” He hands me an orange vest. At least he’s going to let me help. “I did,” I say, my heart clenching. Because it hurts, and I don’t know that it will ever stop hurting. That’s why when Ra took my goddess powers, I thought I was in the clear, emotionally. But it isn’t true. If anything, my damn feelings seem to be getting stronger and more uncontrollable by the second. “It’s horrible, and I have a whole bunch of questions.” Tom raises his eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t think you cared.” He glances around to make sure we’re alone. His eyes land on the dog, and his features turn sour. “You told me our one night together was just about relieving stress, yet you have feelings for a rent-a-cop.” He runs his teeth over his bottom lip. “I see how you are.” He reaches out to grab me, but I effortlessly move out of the way. Bear growls, low and ominous, baring his teeth. Tom puts his hand on his sidearm. “You better control that dog, or I’ll put him out of his misery. I don’t like to be threatened, especially by a stupid animal.” “He won’t hurt you,” I say, but don’t know that for sure. I squat in front of the dog. “Easy, Bear. I know he’s a jerk, but I can handle it. Okay?” Bear licks his lips and then my face. “Good boy.” I pat him on the head. Then turn to Tom, who’s got a weird look on his face. “Want to tell me where I should start searching?” Tom checks the paper in his hand before showing it to me. “You can search here.” He points at a section near a creek. “The dog?” He looks at Bear, leeryeyed. “What about him?”

“Don’t let him out of your sight. He might end up with a bullet in his head.” He pats the gun at his hip for emphasis. I don’t doubt him. He’s just that much of an ass. My first instinct is to tell him off, but I don’t want to wind up in jail again. “He’ll stay with me the whole time.” “He better.” Tom heads back to his cruiser, climbing in and getting on the radio. I watch him for a few moments. “Let’s go find Julia.” Bear barks in response, nudging my hand, the one with the map and instructions on it. As soon as we hit the tree line, Bear has his nose to the ground, sniffing. The problem is he doesn’t know what Julia smells like. On top of that, there are dozens of new scents. Usually, when a dog catches a scent, it’ll take off. Even with all the smells, Bear stays close. Cautiously, we make our way over to the search area near the creek We search all day and well into the night, but find nothing. Beyond the tops of the trees, the sky sparkles with so many stars, and the moon is nearly full. It’s easy enough to see, so I don’t plan on stopping, not until I come up with a clue. I finish my area and the areas around mine and head over to the next when Tom appears in the darkness, shining a flashlight in my face. “What the hell are you still doing out here in the dark?” I cover my face with my hands. “My eyes were adjusted, and I could see just fine until you shined that damn light.” Bear whines, but thankfully he doesn’t growl or bare his teeth again. “Didn’t you hear the bull horn? Volunteers are done for the night. Get out of the woods, Harriet.” He pauses. “Unless you’re up to no good? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that with everything going on lately, you’re somehow around or involved.” I step out of the light. “I’m worried about Julia. That’s it.” He shines the light into Bear’s eyes, then finds me again. “For some damn reason, I believe you.” He shakes his head. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you back to your truck, unless you want to be arrested?” That’s what he’s hoping for. I see it on

his face. The ghoul in me wants to break his neck and snack on his flesh, but I push down the monster. No one would miss him. Well, except his partner, Yvette. She seems awfully taken with Tom. In time, she’ll discover the truth. He can't carry around his façade forever. Even though I’m only one-quarter ghoul, my needs tend to overrule everything else when I'm hungry. Thankfully the goddess of love part of myself wins out. Deputy Tom Carson will live another day. When we reach my truck, I unlock the door and open it. Tom pushes against me. “We’re all alone out here. Want me to help you feel better?” His eyes roam to my cleavage. “,” I say, and using my ghoulish speed, climb in the truck and close the door. After locking it, I lean over and open the enger side so Bear can jump in. Tom is furious. His eyes revealing the malice he wants to inflict as he makes his way around the front. I turn on the headlights as Bear leaps up. Tom slams on the hood with both hands, sneering like he’s the entity I should fear. “Get out of the way, Tom.” I lean forward, my foot on the brake. He pulls his gun, aiming it at me. “I could just shoot you,” he shouts. “No one would question me if I said you were involved with this mess, and Lance too.” His threat means nothing. A regular bullet injury will hurt, but it won’t kill me. I rev the engine, and we lock gazes. I pull my foot off the gas, giving in first. It’s a sign of weakness, but I’ve learned it’s better to look like the loser and walk away with my secrets. Tom tucks his gun away. “I always get what I want,” he says, offering a cruel smile. “ that, Harriet.” I put the truck in reverse and peel away, leaving Tom seething like a raging bull. “We need to steer clear of him and lie low for a while,” I say to Bear. “He’s going to be in a bad mood for the next few days.”

Bear growls and barks as though he’s mad at me. And I don’t blame him. I’m angry with myself. “Why didn’t I take the asshole out?” Bear tilts his head, whining softly. He lays down on the seat. “I know. Because I’m not a murderer.”

17

Since I can’t do anything for Julia at the moment and Garrison hasn’t ed me, I drive out to Steeple City. It has the closest superstore, not to mention eleven federal penitentiaries—one of them a supermax. It’s buried underground and is considered the most secure place in the United States. Garrison could get in, I think, randomly. Leaving Bear in the back of the truck with a promise that I’ll hurry, I pick up some cheap steak and a new front door lock kit. When I finish shopping, I hurry out, driving back toward my apartment building, but stop before reaching the parking lot to let Bear out. He dashes into the trees to hide while I park and get out. At the top of the stairs, I stare out over the railing, and whistle for Bear. He comes running, and he’s so fast, he doesn’t look like a dog but a blackened tumbleweed on a windy day. I think he’s going to run up the stairs, but he leaps. It’s an incredible feat. The force sends him sailing past all the lower floors, giving me barely enough time to move out of the way before he soars over the metal rails and drops on the concrete near my door. “Damn,” I say, pushing open the door. He nudges my hand with his nose, and I pat the top of his head. It’s weird how much joy Bear brings me. I’ve never been a pet person, but Bear is fast becoming my best friend. After putting away my gear, I change into sweats and season the steaks before searing both sides. We eat them in silence while Remington Steele plays in the background. It’s been way too long since I felt such contentment around another living creature. Even with everything going on with the case and Lance, I recognize the satisfaction settling in my bones. Bear seems to know what I’m thinking. He finishes his steak and sits beside me,

resting his head on the table. “You feel it too, don’t you?” I cut a piece of meat and put it in my mouth, chewing. Bear’s eyes follow the food, then return to my plate. “You’re still hungry? Maybe that’s all you feel, then.” I can’t help but smile. He wags his tail and whines. “I suppose you are much bigger than I am, although I think all your fluff hides the real you.” I cut another piece of meat before pushing the plate and the other half of the steak over to him. He licks the steak and lifts it into his mouth, swallowing it in three bites. I shake my head and chuckle, taking the plate to the sink. Then I get to work on replacing the doorknob and lock. It’s easy work, and I finish before midnight. I’m tired but not by human standards. My ghoul powers are waning, and human flesh is the only cure. But it’s too dangerous right now. Still, I check the freezer, hoping I missed an ear or a toe. Hell, I’m not picky at this point. There are pork chops, the spell book, popsicles, and ice trays. Otherwise, it’s empty. “Let’s go to bed,” I say mournfully. Bear pads past me and jumps up onto the bed. I brush my teeth and wash my face before heading into the bedroom. Bear is already snoring in the center of my bed. I lift the covers and climb in, shoving his body over. He adjusts as I roll onto my side.

It’s light out when I wake. Bear is snoring softly, his back pressed against my front. I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, and am about to climb out of bed when Garrison’s ghost sails through the ceiling. “Harriet,” he says and sighs with relief. “I didn’t think I’d find you.” His ghostly brows scrunch together worriedly. It’s the first time in ages that a ghost has sought me out like this. Even though I know why he’s here, my heart is racing. “Here I am,” I say through clenched teeth, working to get my pounding heartrate under control. “Did you find Julia?” He nods his head. “I did. Amanda has her inside the Buckeye Joe museum, and she’s hurting her. I think she’s preparing her for the same spell she tried to do on me.” I’m in shock. “And you’re sure it’s Buckeye Joe’s?” I ask, getting out of bed. That’s where Lance worked. I sigh. Amanda probably knew that too. It’s probably empty unless the owner hired a replacement. “Definitely. My mom took me to that museum all the time when I was little. I used to love the wild west stuff.” Bear wakes when I get out of bed. He looks directly at Garrison, studying him like he’s trying to figure the ghost out. Garrison glances at Bear, squinting. “There’s something off about that dog,” he says, hovering near the floor as he glides back and forth, pacing. “Nothing is off about him,” I say, protectively. Then I look at Bear. “You can see the ghost of Garrison, too?” Garrison moans. “Don’t remind me.” Bear tries to sniff Garrison but goes right through him. Garrison gasps like he’s just been murdered again.

“Sorry,” I say, because I am. If only I could’ve saved him, but it wasn’t meant to be. I slide out of my sweats. Garrison has the decency to turn away, but Bear watches me like my body isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before. I dress in black jeans, a semi-clean tank, some socks, and my boots. “You coming, Bear?” I ask, throwing on my jacket. I know I should just call the police. That’s what Tom would want. But I don’t give a damn what Tom wants and the police aren’t equipped to handle magical problems. Not that I am either but at least I know magic and the paranormal exist. He stands on the bed, his pink tongue hanging from his mouth as he whines. He seems desperate to bark, but he just wags his tail and hops off the bed. I let him out, knowing he’ll be fine. Then open my safe, pull on my usual garb, adding brass knuckles and the machete. Amanda has magic. I am magic, but that won’t help me much in the fight. All I have are my weapons. I don’t know how much good they’ll do against her spells, but carrying the small arsenal makes me feel better. When I reach my truck, Garrison drifts through the door and sits. “Shouldn’t you call the cops?” I start my truck and back out. Turn right and pull over to the side to wait for Bear. Roll down my window and shout his name. He doesn’t come. Sadness fills my heart, even worse than losing Lance. I take a deep breath and tell myself it’s going to be okay as I get back on the road and drive like a bat out of hell toward the old museum. “The police,” Garrison repeats quietly. “What am I going to say exactly?” I snap, keeping my eyes on the road. “Deputy Carson. How are you? Hey, guess what? Garrison’s ghost just informed me that Amanda is holding Julia at the old museum outside of town. Come quick.” Garrison crosses his arms, uncomfortable. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.” He turns away so he’s staring out the window. “You’re right. But that’s why I can’t call the cops. I need to have some sort of evidence, some proof that I’m not making shit up. They already think I’m a loser investigator out to take people’s money.” “I get it,” he says. “More than once, I was part of conversations where we

discussed what you did…” He looks at me sheepishly. “And what we should do to you.” I force down a frustrated sigh and don’t say anything until we reach the Buckeye Joe entrance. The outer gate is still locked. I don’t see any lights on. “I’m sorry,” Garrison says. I know he’s still thinking about what he said. “Don’t worry about it.” I give him a wry smile. “Now you know I’m not full of shit, anyway.” “That I do,” he says softly. From the cab, I can see there’s still a giant padlock on the gate. “I wonder how Amanda got in.” “This gate is locked, but if you walk along the fence, you’ll notice several holes, making it easily accessible.” “Huh.” Too bad I didn’t know about the holes in the fence when I visited Lance. I pull my truck over to the side of the road and get out. Lock it and set my keys on top of the front tire. As I start to climb the chain-link, Garrison clears his throat. “There’s an opening not far that way,” he says, pointing to the left. “Thanks for the tip.” When I reach the top, I throw my leg over, avoiding the sharp edges of the barbed wire. The fence isn’t that hard to scale as long as I’m careful. Once I’m on the other side, I jump to the ground, my feet hitting the hard dirt with twin thuds. Turn and jog toward the museum. Garrison floats through and continues beside me. At the entrance, I quietly pull on the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it clicks open. “Where are they?” I ask, holding the door so it’ll close quietly. Before it shuts all the way, Bear appears, his yellow eyes shining with interest. My heart squeezes with joy. “About time,” I say, holding the door open enough that he can sneak through.

He nudges his nose against my stomach and licks my face. I lean into him, rubbing his sides. “All is forgiven,” I say. “Do you need me to give the two of you some alone time?” Garrison asks, making a face. “Don’t be a jerk,” I say, throwing his words back at him. He rolls his eyes. “They’re over this way.” He floats forward. Bear and I trail after him on light feet through the American Indian section, ing old furs, trapper devices, pans and utensils, and clothing worn by those living in the west during the 1860’s. Before we get too close, I my KPID training and the need for stealth. Press my side against the wall and draw my gun. Garrison just floats in like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And I guess he doesn’t. But with Amanda’s magic, he should be more careful. If she sees him, she might get upset and do something to hurt Julia, like she did to him. “Damn ghost,” I hiss, peering around the corner. It occurs to me that Lance’s ghost didn’t stick around. At least he hadn’t made an appearance yet. I'm not sure whether to be glad or not, but I decide it’s for the best. He didn’t leave anything unfinished in this life. That’s a good thing. Bear presses his nose into my side, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Right.” I peek around and see Julia is tied to the floor, her arms and legs spread apart. A seven-point star with a circle around it drawn in white chalk around her. The woman is still in her pajamas, but her silk top is open—the seven-point star carved on her stomach as well. Blood drips from the cuts there as well as where Amanda strapped her to the wood. My mouth waters at the scent of fresh blood and flesh. No! I shout internally. “We’re too late,” I whisper when I’m sure Amanda isn’t around.

18

Tucking my gun away, I rush over to Julia and check for a pulse. “Is she?” Garrison asks but can’t finish. His hands are clutched together like he’s praying. “There’s a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.” I imagine what her flesh would taste like. Probably like all of the wealthy do. Shit, I need to get a hold of myself. I look away, taking a deep breath. Garrison’s shoulders sag with relief. “Julia?” He glides over, hovering prostrate above her. I shake Julia lightly. “Hey,” I whisper. It’s crucial she tells me all she knows. Julia’s eyes flutter open. Pain is the first thing I see, and I feel bad for waking her. Before I can respond, recognition s on her face. “Garrison? Am I dead?” “No,” he says softly. “I’m a ghost.” She bites her bottom lip as tears leak from her eyes. “Help me.” She pulls against the ropes keeping her down. “Harriet, do something. Find a knife,” Garrison says. He’s sobbing uncontrollably at this point. “Julia, I need you to hold still,” I command, leaning over her so she can focus on my face. My head goes through Garrison’s. He gasps and curses, but I ignore him. Bear comes to sit beside me as though he’s trying to keep me safe. “I’m going to remove the ropes,” I say, holding her gaze. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She blinks rapidly, trying to stop the tears. “Here we go.” I pull the switchblade from my waistband and begin to cut through them. As soon as her hands are free, she sits up, trying to look at the wound on her torso as she rubs at her wrists. “They are numb,” she says. I move over to her left ankle and yank cut at the rope. Her foot flinches as she cries out. There are serious rope burns. “Be careful, dammit.” Garrison is beside me, glaring. He looks like he wants to strangle me. “It’s either this or nothing.” I move over to her right ankle. “Just do it,” Julia moans. “Harriet is right. I can take it.” Using my ghoul speed, I carefully place the blade under the rope on her right ankle. It’s stained with blood. I work to be as careful as possible until the rope is severed. Bear is on his feet, watching me like he’s used to seeing me this way. He nods as though to tell me I did good. I return his nod with one of my own. Is it strange to feel so in sync with a dog? “Thank you,” Julia says as she tries to roll on her side. I’m guessing her feet are asleep as well. “Let me help.” I get behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She lets out another groan. “Sorry,” I say, trying to be careful. “Maybe you should give yourself a minute before you move.” I release her and help her onto her back. “It’s all pins and needles,” she says, trying to shake her fingers, but she

accidentally hits the ground and moans again. “Just rest a few minutes.” Julia closes her eyes. “Fine.” I scoot in close. “Where is Amanda?” I don’t ask why she let Julia live. Something tells me that wherever Amanda is, she’ll be back. Julia shakes her head. “She said something about a secret tunnel and needing an ingredient.” “Which way did she go?” I glance at Bear and then Garrison. Julia tries to point. Then takes a deep breath. “Somewhere that way,” she says, indicating the other side of the room. “Good.” I pick up one of Julia’s hands and hold it gently. “Do you know what she wants or what her plan is?” She shakes her head. “She’s literally lost her mind. She kept babbling about our parents and Garrison and how he loved her more.” “That isn’t true,” Garrison yelps, devastation filling his features. “Anything else?” I ask without acknowledging Garrison. “Once in a while, it was like she spoke to someone else even though I didn’t see anyone.” She swallows, and her eyes dart to Garrison, but only for a moment. “She kept referring to the person as Naomi.” Bear whines and barks softly. “What?” I ask, like the dog can answer. He whines, his ears twitching and his tail standing up straight. I have no idea what that means. I’m an idiot for thinking Bear will suddenly start talking like a human. “You’re going to be okay,” I say to Julia, brushing some of her hair off her face.

“Damn right, she will. I’ll stay with her,” Garrison says, floating over so he’s next to me. Julia focuses on him. “I’m not dead, right?” She looks at me for clarification. “You see him, and c-can hear him too?” “You aren’t dead. And yes, I can see Garrison’s ghost. He helped me find you.” I smile at him. “He will keep you company. Okay?” “How is this possible?” she asks, her already pale face going almost gray. It’s apparent she’s struggling with all that’s happened in her life lately and I don’t blame her. “The paranormal is real, Julia,” I say simply, and release her hand before standing. “Bear, come.” I head for the next room. “This goes without saying, I think, but just in case,” I begin, watching her pointedly. “What?” Garrison asks for both of them. “When Julia is okay to walk, get away from here. Find a phone. Call for help. Got it.” I want to think I can handle the situation on my own, but I don’t know what I’m dealing with. Amanda can do magic, but she’s still human. When I catch her, she’ll have to be brought to justice and that means I have to get humans involved. Julia slowly nods. “If you can help it, don’t kill her,” she pleads. “My sister,” she adds, as though I need clarification. “I’ll do my best.” She nods. “I know you will. I trust you.” With Bear at my side, we walk through what looks like a taxidermist’s office. Dead elk, moose, a black bear and grizzly bear, as well as a mountain lion, and other, smaller animals stare at us, their glass eyes shining in the dim light. Any moment, I expect them to come to life and attack us. It’s creepy, and I hurry on into the only other opening, which leads into a white-washed hall. Fluorescent bulbs flicker and hum above us, irritating as hell. At the end of the hall is an exit with a green sign above the door. To the left is an unassuming white door. I place my hand on the knob and Bear whines. “I know,” I say, not liking the unknown any more than he does. My ghoul senses are duller than usual too, but I can still

feel the ripple of magic as I carefully pull the door open. Bear goes in first, and I let the door click shut quietly after I step through. Draw my gun and pad down after the dog. It's pretty much what I expect—thick metal pipes, a power box, and other electrical items at the bottom of the steps. There is also a mop and bucket directly to the right of the door. Lance probably used it while he worked at night. And possibly a janitor. There’s a small walkway between the enormous pipes leading to the back of the room. Bear leads, sniffing as he goes. A single overhead bulb swings back and forth as though it’s on a pendulum. Amanda isn’t in the room, at least not that I see, but I hear someone quietly speaking in a small room off to the left. The door is slightly ajar. Bear and I see Amanda at the same time. She’s leaning over another, smaller seven-point star with a white circle around it. Inside are what look like bones and a bowl full of boiling blood. I’m guessing the blood belongs to Julia. Amanda is kneeling just inside the circle, her face directly over the items sitting in the center. Her eyes are closed, and her hands are clasped together as though she’s praying. For the briefest moment, I debate shooting her. I have a clear shot. But Julia’s face and her request come to mind. I’ll try to stop her without deadly force, but if it’s between her and me, it’s going to be her. Bear glances back at me, his eyes shining in the muted light. I nod like we comprehend each other. Bear pads cautiously forward. Before we get inside the room, there’s a crack of lightning. The bowl breaks in half, and the blood seeps onto the floor. Like the fuse on the end of a stick of dynamite, it sizzles along the chalk outline, including the star and circle. Finally, it consumes the bones. It happens so fast. Neither Bear nor I move as the blood and bones dissipate and change into red lightning. It crackles and hisses, swirling in a circle like a slowmoving tornado. It starts small but grows and grows until it surrounds Amanda’s body. Bear yelps in surprise. I put out a hand to quiet him, but it’s too late.

Amanda’s eyes open. Her irises glow the same color red as the lightning. She lifts one side of her mouth as though she intends to smile, but it comes out more of a grimace. In the next moment, the long scar marring Amanda’s face and neck becomes blurry, folding in on itself and disappearing inside her body. With the red lightning still surrounding her, she does smile, and it is one of triumph. “The scar is gone,” she says, touching her face. She sounds equal parts shocked and delighted. Finally, I snap out of it. “Don’t move,” I say, keeping my voice steady, training the gun between Amanda's eyes. In a blink, her eyes are no longer red. She's fixed on me as her features morph into anger. “How dare you ruin my celebratory moment?” She flicks her hand away from her body and toward me. I’m flung through the air, smacking hard into the wall. The force triggers my finger, and I manage to get one shot off before the weapon drops from my grasp. The bullet doesn’t connect with her but the ceiling. Plaster, wood, and dirt rain down in a powdery cloud. A waste of a perfectly good silver bullet. In the same instant, Bear growls and rushes at Amanda. Before he reaches her, she twists her fingers and speaks low. In midair, Bear drops onto his side. He whines and pants heavily. “Leave him alone,” I shout, fighting against the invisible force holding me against the wall. Even with my ghoulish strength I can’t break through it. “You be quiet,” she says, then walks over to the dog and kicks him in the stomach. “You escaped,” she says. Bear whines again. Anger rushes through my veins. It’s one thing to hurt me, but to mess with my dog? It pisses me off. “Stay away from him if you want to live.” The words spit between my teeth. Amanda steps back, unsure.

A ghostly apparition peels herself out of Amanda’s body and hovers beside her. The ghost clucks her tongue, giving me a dreadful grin. I’m about to spout more threatening words, except I recognize her. The woman from the photo. The one sitting beside Dashel. Is she behind all of this? “What are you doing here?” I ask.

19

She doesn’t answer but stares at Bear, squatting beside him, trying to stroke his head. Her hand sails right through him. “I’ve missed you, love,” she coos softly. Then she glances over at Amanda though she continues talking to Bear. “Can you believe her? It isn’t my side of the family that she gets her insanity from. It must be yours.” She obviously seems to believe Bear is something other than what he is. Bear attempts to move, fighting against the invisible bindings holding him fast to the floor. It’s no use. There is a mirror at the back of the room. Amanda is standing in front of it, staring. The woman tries again to caress Bear without success. She looks back at Amanda, who is too interested in her face to care about anything else. “Now, then,” the ghost begins, gliding over. “Let me get a closer look at the woman Dashel supposedly loved more than his own life.” She tilts her head to one side as though she’s studying a painting. She sniffs, and her lip curls. “Nothing special.” She reaches out to touch my hair and is disappointed when her fingers won’t connect. “You know me?” I say, unsure what to think. "Then that really was Dashel in that painting?” I ask, my terrible situation momentarily forgotten. “It makes no sense. Dashel was human when I knew him.” Bear barks, working desperately to break free, and I focus on him a moment, thinking back more than two hundred years to when Dashel and I dated. He was human. I smelled it on him. Bear howls and whines as he battles against the enchantment. “Amanda!” the ghost snaps. “Shut the dog up, will you?” She faces Amanda as she speaks. With her eyes off me, I strain against my unseen bounds.

Amanda hesitates as though she doesn’t want to tear herself from her image, but she obeys when Bear barks again. She mutters one unintelligible word, and a muzzle covers Bear’s mouth. “That’ll teach you,” Amanda says, then turns back to the mirror without another word. “Now, then,” the apparition says, coming in close so her nose should touch mine. She breathes in deeply, and I swear I feel her spirit. She steps back, her eyes wide. “I can’t decide whether to tell you the truth about Dashel or not.” She crosses her arms, lifting her head as though she’s thinking about it. “What was he to you?” I ask through clenched teeth even though I know they were together. “We were married for a time,” she says. “He loved me as much as he could, but sadly, his full heart belonged to you.” She shakes her head. “It’s strange though, that on the full—” A piercing scream booms from upstairs, distracting the ghost. “Full?” I ask, desperate for her to continue, and peeved Julia didn’t listen to me and get out. She needs more time. “Now what?” Amanda asks absently, turning back and forth in the mirror. “It’s time to finish off your sister,” the ghost says, suddenly moving over to the exit. “What about these two, Grandmama?” Amanda indicates us with her hands, but her eyes remain on her reflection. “How many times have I told you not to call me that,” the ghost snaps. “I’m sorry.” Amanda looks down at her shoes a moment. Then with newfound joy, she looks up. “Should I kill them?” “No, you idiot. They aren’t human like you. We’ll leave them down here to rot. Someone might find them before they bulldoze over the museum, but it’s doubtful.” She cackles and disappears through the wall.

Amanda glances longingly into the mirror one last time. She reminds me of a spoiled child—selfish and vain. “Amanda,” I say quietly, hoping I can talk some sense into her. “What do you want?” She walks carefully past the dog then looks at me from under her lashes. “Is that woman your relative?” Amanda rolls her eyes. “Yes, Grandmama is my relative. Otherwise, why would I call her Grandmama.” She glares and stomps her foot, moving again toward the door. “Who was your grandpapa?” Amanda furrows her brow. She doesn’t know. I try a different tactic before I lose her. “You’re more powerful than her. You aren’t a ghost,” I say, encouraging. “You can do anything. Free us.” There’s a hint of desperation in my voice. She shakes her head. “I know some stuff, but for the best magic, like fixing my face, only Grandmama knows the spells. I just let her use my body to perform them.” “The spell you used to bind Be—the dog is mighty. Think you could release him? I bet you could.” She rushes me, sticking her finger in my face. “Don’t talk to me, stupid lady.” She takes off, and I hear her running up the stairs. “Well, crap.” I have no doubt the ghost will leave us down here like she said she would. And Amanda has probably already forgotten me. It makes more sense now why Amanda broke out of the facility, killed her parents, slept with and murdered Garrison, and used her sister. She wasn’t doing it at all. The ghost possessing her is the one with all the nefarious plans. Amanda just

doesn’t seem to understand right and wrong. Over the years, I’ve known ghosts to possess a person's body if they have a weak mind. She’s probably been using Amanda for a long time. But the big question is why. Why allow Amanda to be marked in the first place? Why sleep with Garrison and then use another spell to correct her face. What’s the point? The whole family affair seems crazy. It occurs to me that I may never know the truth. Grandmama is psychotic, and Amanda inherited that gene from her. Above me Julia screams again. “Dammit!” I close my eyes and work to focus. In KPID training, the first test we had to was freeing ourselves from a spell. Doing so requires a relaxation technique called mortemtric. I’m angry and frustrated, making the process difficult. Deep breath in for five. Hold for ten seconds. Breathe out for fifteen. After the tenth try, I get into a groove. Then I double everything. In for ten. Twenty seconds of holding my breath. Out for thirty. My heart slows. I think about the steady tick, tick, tick of the clock. Darkness surrounds me. I’m back in the KDIP training facility. Alone in the room. The clock slows down. So does my heart. I double everything again. The ticking gets slower. My heart follows. Double the counts again. My heart is barely beating. I can’t tell whether I’m still breathing or not. My only focus on the sluggish ticking until it stops. My heart does too. I don’t move. For several seconds, I exist only as an entity in the vastness of the universe—one of a trillion stars whose light has gone out. So far away from everything, a sense of peace envelops me. For the tiniest moment, I long to

remain in the expansive nothingness as feelings of peace and relaxation lap along my skin. There’s a click, a flicker, and a pop, and the peace fades until I’m back inside my body. Since the spell no longer binds me to the wall, I drop to the ground with a thump.

20

I take a long breath. Exhale. My heart knocks against my ribs, slowly at first. Bear is whining. The smell of wet dirt and concrete dust fills my nose. And I open my eyes. Bear is doing everything he can to fight against the spell. His body is taut, his fur matted and filthy from the exertion. I crawl over to my gun, tuck it into my belt, and make my way over to Bear. “Hey, boy. It’s okay. Easy,” I say, stroking his face. He’s still muzzled, and he’s panting. But I feel his muscles relax. “Good.” I could teach him the mortemtric technique, but it will take time. More time than Julia has. The only other way to remove the spell is by killing Amanda or convincing her to release him. That seems highly unlikely since she does everything her dead ancestor says. I make a face. “Listen, Bear. I’m going to leave you here—” He starts to struggle, fighting even harder against the spell. “Stop,” I whisper, massaging my fingers in his fur. The action calms me probably more than him. “I’m going to go up those stairs and make sure you are released, and then I’m coming right back.” I lean in, resting my cheek against his, then sit up. Our eyes meet. “You mean a lot to me.” I clear my throat as emotion racks my body. “I won’t lose you. Got it.” I stand. Bear pushes against the bonds again but only for another moment before he stops, his eyes never leaving mine. “Good. I’ll see you in a few.” I take the stairs two at a time. The door is closed and locked, but I shove it open without much effort. Taking my gun from my belt, I jog down the hall and through the taxidermy room, ignoring the beady eyes, and listening to the

commotion happening in the next. At the wall, I peek around the corner. The ghost isn't around, which means she is possessing Amanda's body again. The woman has Julia in a chokehold. Her body hangs limp, and I know she’s already dead. This time, without hesitation, I aim and shoot Amanda square between the eyes. Like a rag doll, her body goes limp. Amanda sinks to the floor, and Julia falls with her. There’s no time to relax, though. The furious ghost lets out a blood-curdling scream as she pulls away from Amanda’s corpse. “How dare you? Those children weren’t yours to kill. They were mine.” She rushes me, her ghostly form trying to settle inside my body. “It won’t work,” I say and step back, trying to pistol-whip her without success. The ghost thrashes around in shock. “Why? I know you are part ghoul, but it shouldn’t matter. I’ve possessed vampires before. Your weak ghoul powers are trivial compared to theirs.” She comes for me again, her hands out like she intends to gouge my eyes. This time, her nails connect. She’s as surprised as I am, but she doesn’t waver and proceeds to rake her nails across my face over and over again. I try to fight her off, but it’s like fighting off a wet blanket. My goddess powers won’t let her possess me, but her wraith abilities are strong enough to wound my face. Behind me, I hear a muffled bark. Bear skitters to a stop in front of me. He's holding a box of something in his mouth. I can’t tell what it is, but he shakes it. Small, white granules fly out and land on the ghost. Her form sizzles and crackles as though she is catching on fire. She stops scratching at me and looks down at herself in horror. Then she shrieks as though she's in pain and wheels around on Bear. He doesn’t stop, sending more and more of the white stuff at the ghost until she starts to evaporate, piece by piece until she’s gone.

Bear drops the box. It was sea salt. Of course. Ghosts and wraiths can be expelled by the simple mineral compound. Not forever. Once she’s recovered enough, she’ll be back but from experience I know the recuperation takes time. “Bear,” I say, sinking to my knees in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck. Blood leaks into my eyes, and some of his fur gets into my abrasions, but I don’t care. The dog is a genius. “What the hell?” The voice is female, and I look up. Deputy Yvette Miggs stands in the entrance, her feet apart, her gun in one hand while the other keeps it steady, but the barrel is aimed at the floor. Her eyes lock on the dead women. I shove away from Bear. “Run,” I say. “Now.” Bear takes off past Yvette and around the corner. Someone squeals like a little girl, and a shot sounds. I hold my breath, waiting for the whine of a dog in pain, but one doesn’t come and my shoulders sag in relief. Because he must’ve escaped unscathed. “Easy, deputy,” I say and hold out my hands. Tom appears in the next second. He looks shaken. His gun trained on me. “Harriet…” He takes in the dead bodies. “You’ve screwed the pooch this time.” He steps forward. “You’re under arrest. Get down on the floor. On your stomach with your hands behind your back.” He points at the ground with his gun as he speaks. “Tom,” I begin as I drop to my knees and then lay on my stomach, putting my hands together behind me. “Let me explain.” “Shut your dirty mouth.” He kneels on either side of me and cuffs me with those idiotic plastic zip ties. If my ghoulish powers were on point, I could easily break free. They aren’t. Between breaking through the spell and the fighting, I’m exhausted. Plus, I didn’t do anything wrong. The evidence will show that Amanda strangled Julia,

and I shot Amanda to try and save her. That’s it. As Tom yanks me to my feet with one hand, he reaches under my shirt. Yvette gives him a strange look until he retrieves the gun. He says something to her, but I don’t listen. Instead, I search for Garrison. With everything going on, I forgot about him. There’s also a possibility of Julia and Amanda’s ghosts appearing as well. None of them do. As Tom shoves me outside, weariness overtakes me, and my knees buckle. Tom swears and shoves me into the back of his SUV. Slams the door. Climbs into the driver seat. Yvette slides into the enger seat. I watch numbly as he speaks with Yvette. Occasionally I catch his gaze in the rearview mirror, but he says nothing directly to me. At least, I don’t think so. I’m not paying attention. As we cruise along the highway, I search the forest for Bear. I don’t see him. I rest my head against the window. It’s cool, and I close my eyes. I’m famished and in need of human flesh. Thoughts of reaching over the seat and ripping at Tom’s throat fill my mind. I lick my lips and push them away. I’m not a cold-blooded murderer, I repeat to myself over and over again.

21

Tom interrogates me for hours. I tell him my side of the story. He calls me a liar. Leaves. Comes back and starts over again. Finally, he takes me to a cell. “They’re going to give you the death penalty for murdering those women. And Lance too, as soon as I can prove it.” He sneers and shoves me at the cot. I don’t respond and let myself fall against the mattress. Tom clips the zip ties and slams the cell door shut. “I’ll be watching in the observation room as you wet yourself and your eyes bug out of your head.” He is quiet for a moment like he’s waiting for me to cry or beg. I don’t even look at him. He huffs and walks away. When he’s gone, I rub at my wrists. The non-waist trainer is still under my shirt. I ignore it and lay down on my back. Stare up at the plain white ceiling. My heart aches at losing Julia. I couldn’t save her, and that stings. My first client in months and she winds up dead. That isn’t good business. On top of that, when the news catches hold of the story and reveals I shot her sister… Yeah, I might have to leave town. The worst part is I actually liked Julia. Under different circumstances I think we could’ve been friends. I think of Sebastian and wonder if me winding up in this cell was his plan all along. He wants me to work for the KPID. He was angry when I left and has been for the last fifty years. This situation feels like something the vampire would orchestrate to force me back into the fold. He is always three or four steps ahead of everyone else. And then there’s Dashel. The demented ghost knew him. She was married to him. What happened? How did she die? How was Dashel able to live for so long? And why did he leave me? Am I so horrible? With so many questions weighing on my mind, I go round and round, trying to work out the answers until my eyes get heavy and sleep comes, giving me a

much-needed reprieve.

I wake to the sound of banging on the metal bars. My stomach feels as if it is being eaten from the inside out. I moan and roll on my side, glancing back to see the culprit making all the noise. It’s Tom. His police baton rests on one of the horizontal rods. “What?” I grumble. He unlocks the door. He walks in and grabs my arm, yanking me up. “Time to go.” I feel like puking. “Where are you taking me?” I ask, keeping my head down. “I don’t know who your friends are or what they did to get the charges dropped, but I can promise you I won’t rest until I prove you’re a murdering bitch.” He walks me down the hall and out into the police precinct. Beyond the desks and the glass partition, I see Sebastian in the waiting room. He’s standing too still, not that anyone notices. The vampire wears a dark gray suit with a maroon pocket square and a matching tie. His long, dark hair is pulled off his angular face. The man radiates royalty laced with menace. No one will get near him and all do their best not to look directly at him. He’s like the sun that way, I guess. “Is that your lawyer?” Tom asks. I swallow, unsure what to say. Thankfully Tom is too full of himself to wait to hear my response. “You’re just full of surprises. I thought you were trash. It turns out I underestimated you.” He shoves me into a seat next to his desk. I know it’s his because there’s a plaque with his name on it. “I won’t make that mistake again.” It takes every last ounce of effort I possess not to reach over the desk and tear the flesh from his cheek. Tom clicks a few keys on his keyboard. His gaze turned to the computer screen. Then he opens his bottom drawer, retrieves a manilla envelope, and hands it to me. “Your stuff.” He grabs my arm and walks me over to the glass door. I have no doubt it’s bulletproof.

Deputy Tom presses a button, and the entry swings open. Sebastian notices me coming. His frown grows more profound. Behind him stands a full wall of windows. The sun hangs low in the sky, flashy with reds, oranges, yellows, and purples. Sebastian doesn’t like the sunlight, so I’m surprised he came out before it was completely down. He doesn’t seem happy about it. I work to put one foot in front of the other. My throat is burning as I a young mother with supple flesh wrapped around her fussy child. I stare too long, and the woman turns away. “Hang on, Harriet,” Sebastian says quietly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, directing me to the exit. He knows what’s wrong. He knows what I need. But knowing isn’t going to help me feel better. I can’t think. It’s tough to do anything but keep up with Sebastian as he walks me out to an oversized limousine. It’s garish black with sleek tinted windows and fancy tires and rims. Sebastian doesn’t wait for the man to open the door but does it himself. I climb in and fall onto the nearest seat. He gets in after me and sits near the front, giving the man driving my address. Then he closes the partition. It’s like I’m watching him while only half awake. I can’t speak. It’s challenging to keep my eyes open. Sebastian opens the compact refrigerator, retrieves a plate filled with cheese, crackers, and delicately sliced flesh. After he removes the plastic wrap, he holds it out. “I brought you a snack,” he says, giving me a devilish smile. My mouth fills with water. I’m too far gone to be grossed out by it. I’m nothing but a flesh-eating monster. That’s all I can focus on. “You didn’t?” I grab the plate and shove a piece of the flesh in my mouth, ignoring the other niceties. I know what I need. Chew. Swallow. Pick up another piece. Do it again and again until the meat is gone. The scratches on my face, the ones the ghost slash wraith gave me, stitch themselves together. My stomach stops quivering, and my body perks up like I drank an entire pot of coffee.

“Better?” Sebastian asks, amused. “Much.” I’m still ravenous, but at least I can function. It’s times like these I wish I still had my goddess of love powers. With them, I didn’t need human flesh—at least I didn’t when my goddess powers were fully functioning. There’s no doubt some residual power still resides within. Sebastian clasps his hands together and leans back in his seat. “Good. Now tell me what the bloody hell happened.” I roll my shoulders, working out the kinks. “Yeah, okay.” I break it down for him, explaining about Julia, Amanda, the wraith-ghost, and all of it. When I finish, he stares for a long moment as though processing. From working with him in the past, I know he’s examining the situation from all angles. “And the dog?” he asks, drawing in an unnecessary breath. “Bear,” I say and then regret it when Sebastian gives me a funny look. Without thinking, I swivel in the seat and peer out the window, searching the dense woodland beyond the road. “He escaped and is fine, I think.” He probably took off to parts unknown, desperate to get as far from my crazy-ass life as possible. I change the subject. “I left my truck at the entrance to Buckeye Joe’s place.” “Your favorite deputy had it impounded. I took the liberty of retrieving it and having it delivered to your apartment complex.” He’s sitting there so calmly, as though we’re discussing the weather or the latest news of note. There isn’t a hair out of place or a disheveled wrinkle in his pristine and expensive clothing. “Why are you helping me?” I ask, rolling my shoulders back. Sure, we worked together for many years. We were an item for a decade too. But I left the agency and him. The vampire owes me nothing. If anything, I deserve his scorn, not his help. Sebastian smiles, but it isn’t one of joy. It fills his face with a promise that I will be required to pay him back someday. “Harriet, when are you going to learn that I care for you and will do all in my power to help?” He clears his throat. “Not only that, but The Boss demands I keep you out of trouble. That includes imprisonment for murder. And out of the limelight, as well.”

So, he isn’t helping me out of the kindness of his heart. That makes me feel better. “Have you found out more about Dashel?” Sebastian crosses one leg over the other, his eyes never leaving mine. I brush at some dirt on my filthy pants. “Only that the ghost who possessed Amanda was married to him.” I lean forward. No longer starving, I can think more clearly. “I still don’t understand why he left me without a word all those years ago. And if he became a supernatural, why did he never come looking for me?” I cross my arms, frustrated. Dashel was the love of my life. When I looked at him, I saw a future. But maybe my love was one-sided. Perhaps he didn’t love me as intensely as I loved him. So he didn’t bother showing up on our wedding day. He chose to use my absolute trust and take off. With each thought, my heart twists with pain. I still can’t believe, even after all these years, that our love was a lie. “Unless… Did you turn him into a vampire?” There’s hope in my voice. I hear it. That’s saying something since I’m not a fan of vampires. “I did not.” Sebastian looks at me, smug. “Do some research. Find out as much as you can. Then, me. I’m interested to know what became of him as well. We all are,” he adds, pushing up his sunglasses a moment and squinting. The sun can’t kill him, but he doesn’t like it. “It’s like he disappeared off the face of the Earth, which can’t be right.” He winks and pulls his shades back over his eyes. I want to believe he doesn’t know the truth about Dashel, but it’s difficult when he seems to know everything else. What is he keeping from me? And the bigger question is why? “I’ll find him.” The limo stops in front of my apartment. I take the manilla envelope filled with my belongings and move to leave. Sebastian leans forward, placing his cool fingers on my thigh. “If I could tell you more, I would.” “I believe you,” I lie. He’s only ever been interested in what’s best for Sebastian. I found that truth out for myself the hard way. He’s political, a social climber. I never did like that about him, even when we were lovers. “Harriet,” he says when I step out of the limo.

“Yeah?” I poke my head in. “I can stay. Help you forget about everything, the way I used to. I know what you need.” His glorious eyes hold mine. Thank the stars, I can’t be compelled. I glance away, focusing on his sensual lips. My stomach does belly flops as an ache of need travels between my thighs. Sebastian worshipped my body shamelessly and provocatively many nights. It would be easy to give in and let him take care of me physically. I bite my tongue to keep myself from begging him to come inside. “Not tonight,” I grit out between clenched teeth. He’s staring at me as though he can read my mind. “Very well. I left you a present in the freezer.” My mouth waters. “Thanks.” I squat down so I can see him better. “I’m grateful you made the murder charges go away,” I add and mean it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. The accusations wouldn’t have stuck anyway. No sense wasting your talents or your time in that cell.” He uncrosses his leg and leans forward. “Tom is going to be a problem, but I had a persuasive conversation with him. Hopefully, that’ll keep him off your back for a while.” He studies me a moment and nods. The vampire used compulsion on the deputy. For once I’m glad for Sebastian’s powers. “I can’t work for the KPID, but if you need my help, you know where to find me.” I stand and push the door closed, and the limo drives away. As I watch Sebastian go, I debate whether I’ll see him again. Probably. It seems he’s never far.

22

Thoughts of all Sebastian can do to my body continue to dance seductively through my mind. I debate calling him back. On shaky legs, I make my way up the steps, my thighs quivering at the memories. My phone rings, and I pause to remove it from the envelope. “Dashel’s Paranormal Investigations,” I answer out of habit, forgetting I’m still using the crappy burner. “Harriet Everly, please.” The male voice is professional but not familiar. “This is she,” I say as I reach my door. There’s a notice of eviction taped to it. What the hell? I rip the notice down as I go inside, locking the door behind me. “Ah, Ms. Everly, this is Calvin Higgins. You don’t know me, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Julia Hikrom’s lawyer.” My heart drops into my stomach as guilt swirls around like I ate rotten meat. “I’m so sorry about Julia.” I stomp into my bedroom and put the phone on speaker, so I can undress. I need a shower. “Thank you, Ms. Everly. She will be greatly missed.” He clears his throat. “With the death of her sister, Julia doesn’t have any other family.” He pauses. “I didn’t know her well, but she seemed nice,” I say, unsure why he’s called. Unless he’s hoping for details. “How can I help you?” I’m in my underwear and pick up the phone, taking it into the bathroom. Then I pause. I can’t shower while I speak with the man. “Thank you. Let me get right to the point, Ms. Everly. Julia spoke to me at length about you and all you did for her. She was a very private person and didn’t trust too many people. Other than myself and Garrison, and her sister, I suppose.” He clears his throat again. And Sebastian too. He gave Julia my number. “Okay.” I squint at my reflection. Dried blood streaks my cheeks and forehead. My hair is a mangled mess.

“After Garrison died, Julia changed her will. Since all charges against you have been dropped, I have the authority to tell you that the entirety of her assets, including the family estate, bank s, life insurance, and everything else Julia owned, now belong to you.” He pauses and shuffles around some paperwork. I’m in shock. “Excuse me?” I can’t have heard him right. “Julia and I barely knew each other. I think there’s been a mistake.” “No mistake, Ms. Everly. For whatever reason, she trusted you enough to leave you everything. All you need to do is come over to my office and sign the paperwork.” “I—well,” I turn, leaning my butt against the leaky bathroom sink. “Are you sure?” My heart races at what this means. Is it coincidence there’s an eviction notice on my door the same day I’m told I inherited my dead client’s belongings? “Can I donate everything?” After I say the words, I decide not to be arrogant. Yes, having as much money as Julia did is a burden, but it can be a blessing too. “I mean, can you help me make sure a few charities get some of her money?” “One hundred percent. Why don’t you come down now? I have some time. We can discuss your assets and how best to handle them.” I look at the clock sitting on my dresser. “Where are you located?” He gives me the address. It’s on the main drive in the city center. I’m surprised I haven’t seen his office before. “I can be there in thirty minutes.” “Wonderful. See you soon.” He hangs up. I set my phone on the sink and turn on the water in the shower. After climbing in, I let the water rinse away the dirt and grime, the blood and carnage. While I wash, I think about Julia and why she left everything to me. I can only come to one conclusion. There is more to her story. Along with discovering more about Dashel, I decide to look up information on Julia and her family. I don’t doubt that somehow Sebastian had a hand in this too. When I finish in the shower, I towel dry, brush out my hair, and braid it out of my face. I find my best bra and last pair of clean undies and throw them on,

followed by my best jeans. There’s a single tee shirt hanging in my closet. It’s black, but at least it’s clean. I pull it over my head. The fit isn’t my favorite, kind of tight at the armpits. I yank on the cotton fabric, stretching it as I search for a matching pair of socks. As I into the kitchen, I see the water bowl on the floor and my heart sinks. Bear left, not that I blame him. I open the freezer. Under the pork chops is some vacuum-sealed flesh. I’m so ravenous, I tear open the plastic and bite into it, relieved it isn’t frozen solid. As I eat, I think about Julia and her relationship to Sebastian. Had he suggested she leave everything to me? And by suggested I mean compelled. If so, I can’t live there. Soon-to-be-homeless or not, even I have lines I won’t cross. When I finish, I feel much better and grab my keys, which are right where they should be—on the entryway table. That means either one of Sebastian’s lackies or Sebastian himself somehow entered my apartment. I try not to worry about it, but it does bother me that my security is non-existent. Before reaching the front door, I debate whether to bring Laura or at least a switchblade. In my line of work, it’s never wrong to have some sort of weapon. I settle on a knife in my pocket and head out. I see that my truck is parked one spot over from my usual. Instead of going to it, I head to the apartment of the guy who manages the complex and knock. There’s rustling behind the door and I wait. “What?” The man whose name is Zander asks, throwing open the door. He’s wearing a dirty white wife beater and gym shorts that are so low, he’s exposing his hairy pot-bellied stomach. “Oh, hi, Harriet.” He smiles, revealing several missing teeth. “Zander,” I say, crossing my arms. His eyes are bloodshot and stare at me lazily. Colorado and pot. It’s everywhere. “Care to tell me why I’m being evicted?” He smirks. “Lots of reasons. Your rent is late every damn month. We’ve received

complaints about you having a dog, which is strictly forbidden. Then there’s the fact that you replaced the lock with one of your own. That’s against the law, missy.” He wags his finger at me. “I’m giving you a week to be out. If you still have stuff in there after that, it becomes my property.” I don’t tell him that by law I have thirty days. What’s the point? “Whatever.” He slams the door in my face. I stand there debating my next move. I’m going to see a lawyer—Julia’s lawyer. I can ask him to represent me and sue stoner Zander. Without a doubt, I’d win. I’ve been around long enough to know my rights. My truck looks the same as always. Glad he’s still the same, I unlock the cab and climb in. As I pull out of the parking lot, I search the trees across the street for any sign of Bear. I miss him already. Rolling down the window, I call out for him. “Bear!” Wait. Try again. “Bear! Come!” Wait some more. Headlights shine in my rearview mirror. The person honks and swerves around me. A feeling of loneliness melts through my veins like butter on hot toast. “It was good while it lasted.” I check the time. It’s been thirty minutes. Rolling up the window, I drive like a bat out of hell until I get close to my destination. Hunching down to peer out the window, I slow down and search for a sign indicating the lawyer’s office. Finally, I spot it at the top of the stairs, above a tattoo parlor. After locking my door, I jog my way across the street and up the metal stairs. From the outside and even inside, I’d never guess he was a lawyer for millionaires. His office door is partway open. A man is seated at his desk. Salt and pepper hair. Glasses. Tanned skin. Twin bushy eyebrows dance over his eyes like caterpillars. “Hello?” I knock on the door once and push it open. He looks up and smiles. “Thanks for meeting me here.” He waves a hand around the room as he stands. “I usually meet my clients at their homes or in my main offices in Denver. But—” He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “This is all that’s available on short notice.” He holds out his fleshy hand. His watch looks

expensive as does his suit. It’s silver-gray. His white shirt is unbuttoned to reveal the wiry hair at his chest. “Ms. Everly, right?” I take his hand and shake. “In the flesh, Mr. Higgins.” “Call me Calvin.” He smiles, revealing teeth the size of scrabble pieces but stark white. “Have a seat.” I carefully fold myself into the wooden chair, balanced on the edge. “I was glad to see all of your charges waved.” Calvin picks up a manila folder and sets it in front of him. “You must have friends in high places to get them dropped so quickly.” He removes his glasses, resting his hands together. I slide back, crossing one leg over the other. “It’s because I’m innocent. I sure as hell didn’t kill Julia. She was my client. And I only shot Amanda because she was strangling her sister.” I glance down at my lap. “Obviously, I was too late, and I have to live with that.” Calvin nods as though he understands. He slides his thick, black glasses back on his face and opens the file. “Very true.” He pulls out the paperwork and places it on the desk in front of me then hands me a pen. I take it, noticing my hand is trembling. I quickly set the pen on the desk and hide my hands in my lap. “This is the will. It states everything we spoke about on the phone as well as lists assets and things of that nature.” He pauses. “Okay.” I pick up the document and scan it. In addition to the estate here and several cars, there is a chalet in Park City, a house in , and an apartment in New York. They all belonged to Julia and now belong to me. Or at least they will when I sign the paper. Assets include shares in multi-billion dollar companies even I’ve heard about. Money in offshore s as well as one locally. There is a savings . Bonds and other things. Basically, it’s a lot. “Sign here?” I ask to , even though my name is typed out under a line along with a place for the date. “That’s right.” Calvin removes his glasses again and watches him. His light gray eyes are curious. “You really helped out Julia there at the end. Finding her fiancé

and all that.” He clucks his tongue. “Such a sad few weeks,” he says, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving my face. I quickly put my name down and shove the papers back. “You’re right. In my line of work, that’s usually how it goes. I see people at their worst, their saddest, and especially their most desperate.” I close my eyes a moment, thinking about Julia and the way she died. I don’t like it. Regret and shame hang heavily in my bones. But she isn’t the first client to be murdered, and she won’t be the last. “Yet you do it anyway. Help out those with their paranormal problems?” Calvin’s eyes flash anger, and I think maybe he loved Julia as more than her lawyer, possibly in a fatherly way, but more likely, he wanted more romantically than she was willing to give. “I see things other people can’t,” I it, holding his gaze. “This job,” I pause. Even I sometimes wonder why I still do it. “It’s all I know.” That’s the bottom line. I worked with the KPID as one of their top agents for over a hundred years. For me, there is nothing else. Calvin leans in. “You haven’t been in business for very long, and there’s no record about what you did before starting Dashel’s Private Investigations. Care to fill me in?” Finally, the truth comes out. He doesn’t trust me, not that I blame him. “Actually, I have been doing this longer than you can imagine. What you can see isn’t what’s necessarily true.” I give him a wry smile. “All I can say is I was very well trained to do what I do.” I uncross my legs and lean in, resting my arms on the opposite side of his desk. “Kind of the whole ‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ scenario,” he says sarcastically. “Exactly. Paranormally speaking, there is a whole hell of a lot out there most people don’t know about.” Fear es over Calvin’s features, like a ghost over a grave. He sits up straight and taps on the desk with his hand. “Just look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t kill Julia.” I come around the desk and lean, so my face is inches from his. Up close, he

smells of cigars and spearmint gum. “Calvin, I swear to you I did not kill Julia. I liked her, and I’m beyond sad she’s no longer with us.” He swallows and falls back against the chair. “Good. Good.” I return to my seat. “Now then.” He shuffles around some more documents. “This gives me the authority to move around your money, after your approval, of course.” He sticks the paper in front of me. I sign it and hand it back. “Next.” “Finally, this gives me permission to plan, fund, and carry out funerals for Amanda and Julia. I’ve listed what I believe the costs will be as well as where they will be buried. You needn’t be involved if you don’t want to be.” I take the paperwork from him. Services, caskets, headstones, and everything of that nature will cost more than one hundred grand. And they are to be buried on the Hikrom family land. I don’t recall seeing a cemetery, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. “Do what you need to,” I say, after g and handing the paperwork back. “Did Julia have any charities?” “Of course,” he says and smiles. But it isn’t one that screams sincerity. I have reservations about this man. If I’ve learned one thing in all my years, it’s that we all have weaknesses. He stands and goes to the filing cabinet and pulls out some other paperwork. There is company letterhead, but I don’t know its validity and won’t until I research them myself. “This one was her favorite.” It’s the name of a local soup kitchen. “Uh-huh. How much has she donated over the years?” He gives me a genial smile. But I can practically feel the wheels churning in his head. “A few million dollars, possibly more. I’d have to the amount.” Creep. That’s the word that comes to mind regarding the man. He’s a thieving creep. How much has he stolen from Julia over the years? “That soup kitchen— the one that needs a new roof and has curse words spray-painted across the front —Julia donated multiple millions of dollars to it?” I let the sarcasm in my voice fill the room. I want him to know I’m on to him.

He sputters and returns to his seat. “I mean, as I said, I’ll have to check.” My guilt turns to irritation, and I’m pissed. I come around and lift him out of his seat by his neck, no longer worried about what he knows. “Listen, creep, here’s how it’s going to go. From this moment on, you will be upfront and honest in all of your dealings. You will stop stealing or whatever the hell it is you do, and you will be precise, respectful, and forthright from this moment on. Or else…” I don’t finish the sentence and release him. Calvin drops back, missing the chair and landing on the floor. “Ms. Everly.” He scurries around and stands. The fear from a few minutes ago is back and in full force. “I would never—” I grab his face in my hand, covering his mouth. “And most important of all, you will never lie to me again. Understand?” Our eyes meet. He nods once. I release him. “Because if you do, and I find out, I will peel your flesh from your body while you still live and let you watch me consume it. Got it?” “Shit.” Calvin fumbles for his chair and falls into it. “Ms. Everly, I am at your service.” He presses his hands together as though praying. “You have my word.” “Good. Then you will donate a million dollars to that soup kitchen and do it in Julia’s name. You will work with them to make sure no one from there does anything with the money but fix the place. Once you have everything in order, you will show me how the money was spent and how it will be used in the future. If everything goes as it should, then I’ll allow you to continue working for me. If even the slightest item is incorrect, I’ll make you my dinner.” His lips tremble, and he blows out a breath. “I can do that.” He tries again. “I will do that. Promise.” “Wonderful.” I go to the door. “One more thing.” “Yes, Ms. Everly?” “If you run, I’ll hunt you down. As I said, the investigation business is all I know. There won’t be a country you can hide in or a rock you can disappear

under where I won’t find you.” Calvin closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his face. “It’s time to redeem yourself, Mr. Higgins.” I add. “I will, Ms. Everly.” He opens the middle drawer of his desk and pulls out some keys. “These are to Julia’s house. You’re welcome to move in tonight.” I tuck them into my pocket. “The keys to her car are on there as well. It’s yours too.” He tries to smile. “Thank you, Ms. Everly, for giving me another chance.” I don’t respond as I leave. At the top of the stairs, I pause, listening to what Calvin does next. He lets out a laborious sob, and I know as much as I hate to throw my abilities around that I did the right thing by threatening him. It was either that or kill him, and as I’ve said before, I’m not a murderer.

23

At my truck, I get in but don’t start it. My life is changing rapidly and feels out of control. I’ll be out on my ass in a week. Evicted. Just like that. I stare at the keys, debating. The best plan I can come up with is to go home, pack up my things and head to Julia’s house. For some it might be gross or difficult to live in the place of a recently deceased person, especially one I failed to protect. But I’m not most people. As an agent for the KPID, I learned to live in all sorts of conditions and to take what I could get. Even all these years later, those lessons still apply. With a plan in place, I drive to my apartment. Overhead, the nearly full moon hangs in the sky like someone cut a hole in it and shone a flashlight. It’s so bright I can see the dust-filled craters. In the next second, a dark cloud douses out the brilliance. My mind wanders back to Dashel and our last night together before he vanished. We were out on a walk when a violent rain soaked us. I agreed to go back to his place, even though that wasn’t how a proper lady of eighteenseventeen England behaved. Thankfully, I wasn’t a lady, but a lady’s maid, and the rules didn’t apply. We snuck in his house through the servant’s entrance. On the way up the stairs, we kissed, undressed each other, laughed, and whispered so loudly. I was sure his manservant would hear. Thankfully, no one stopped us as he opened the door to his room. It was masculine. Burgundy drapes and navy bedding. The room smelled of leather and— “It isn’t safe to daydream and drive, Harriet.” I scream and swerve like a drunkard before slamming on the break. The god Ra appears in the enger seat, his face turned toward me. “It’s been

too long,” he says. His larger than life immortal frame sucks the air out of the cab. I heave a deep breath. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.” My heart pumps erratically, pounding so hard against my chest, I know it will breakthrough. “There. There, my child,” he says, rubbing my back. “I thought it time to see you once again.” The last time had been eighteen seventeen when he stripped me of the powers that went with being the goddess of love. At the time, I was grateful. That meant I was no longer an immortal, which meant Dashel, and I could grow old together. How wrong I’d been. For multiple reasons. “What do you want?” “For years, you’ve abused your powers of persuasion when it comes to matters of the heart.” His features are hooded with disappointment. “Dozens of humans and paranormals have fallen victim to your wiles. Many have died.” He pauses, and I can’t help thinking of Lance. Ra isn’t wrong. “I cannot abide by your misuse of my gift any longer,” he says. “You took my powers, Ra. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That isn’t wholly true. Ra said he took them, but I’ve always known a trace of them still existed within—at least when it comes to affairs of the heart. He smiles, and it’s like the cab catches fire. Brightness like that of the sun at noon shines all around me. It fades as quickly as it appears. “We both know that’s a lie.” His face becomes serious. “Drive, and I’ll talk.” I glance in my rearview and side-view mirrors before starting on my way again. “I’m listening.” My heart slows a little. It’s weird to see him again after all this time. He hasn’t come to catch up, and that makes me nervous. “No more breaking hearts, Harriet. Your next and only lover from now on will be Dashel. Either mind me or I’ll kill you off as sure as I’m sitting here.”

I give him a quick look to see if he’s serious. Apparently so. “Why do you care? Why now? It’s been two hundred years. What makes you think Dashel and I are meant for each other? Besides, it’s been centuries; for all I know, he’s dead.” “Dashel is alive. And I’ll reiterate that you are meant for no one else. Though I stripped you of most of your powers, you are still the goddess of love. It’s time you live up to your title. You have five years to figure things out.” I hear the finality in his voice. Black and orange dust erupts from his clothes and skin, dancing all around him. “Wait. Do you know where to find him?” A head start would be nice. He turns in his seat and leans in. If scorched desert has a smell, that’s the scent I pick up on. “The man is closer than you think.” He touches the tip of my nose. A jolt of lightning penetrates my skin and tingles along my veins. I close my eyes a moment, letting the feeling . Then pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Bear is sitting at the bottom of the steps, waiting for me like a sinister statue. Relief filters out the fear. “It’s just…” I glance down at my hands. “I don’t think Dashel loved me the same way I love him. Plus, until recently, I believed him to be dead.” “As I said, he is alive and nearby. The rest you’re going to have to work out on your own.” The black and orange sparkles glittering around his form swallow him up until he’s gone. I rest my head on the steering wheel. “Can’t someone just cut me a break?” I hiss. Bear barks, surprising me. He’s at the door to my truck, his large yellow eyes staring right at me. I climb out. The dog moves back, and I squat in front of him, burying my head in his fur. “I thought you had enough of me,” I whisper. He whines and nuzzles me with his nose. I laugh. “Thank you for coming back.” At least there is one creature who seems to like me just the way I am. Inside the apartment, I pack a bag, including all of my weapons. At the freezer, I dig around for the spell book but it’s gone. Freaked, I pull apart my apartment, wondering if I put it somewhere other than where I thought I did. But it isn’t anywhere. “Someone stole it?” But no one knew about it. On top of that, as Zander said, only I have a key to my place. “What the ever loving hell?” The

only explanation I can come up with is Sebastian. I dial his number. “Harriet. How nice to hear from you.” His voice is like velvet and as stifling too. “Did you take it?” I demand, fuming, as I lean against the counter. “Whatever are you referring to?” he asks. I hear the humor in his words and wish I could reach through the phone and punch him. “You know,” I say. “Did you effing take it?” “Now Harriet, if I took something, then it would be because I have good reason. Such an item shouldn’t be carelessly tossed in a freezer where anyone could find it. But again, that’s only if I took it.” I shake my head and roll my eyes. Bear watches me, his eyes shining with curiosity. I’m not going to get anywhere with Sebastian. Even if he took the book or had an agent take it, he won’t tell me. It’s need to know in the KPID and he doesn’t think I need to know. “Did you compel Julia to leave everything to me?” I figure since I have him on the phone and I’m accusing him of shit, I might as well go all out. “Absolutely not. Julia’s family and mine go back generations. Her parents and I were friends. She stayed with me one summer and I helped raise her. So when she told me about you, I shared many stories. She’s the one who brought it up.” I let myself fall into the nearest chair. Not that I believe him but I’m not in the mood to argue. I’m tired. Bear whines softly as he comes over to me. I lean my head against the top of his. “Fine.” “You will hurt her feelings if you don’t stay in her place,” Sebastian adds. “How do you know?” “She told me.” He hangs up.

I stare at the phone a moment. Bear nuzzles in, rubbing his wet nose against mine. “It’s Julia,” I say, knowing he can somehow understand me. “She left me everything. Her big house and all her money.” I blow out a breath, knowing more creeps like Calvin will come out of the woodwork when they discover I’m the one who inherited it all. Bear barks, and I don’t even care. The people who own the apartment complex are kicking me out anyway. After collecting everything of value, including my weapons, I let Bear out, then lock the door, tossing the keys on the mat.

24

I stop at the grocery store and buy us some steaks. Then we drive to Julia’s house. I tell myself over and over that Julia wants me here, that this is okay, as I put my stuff under the bed, change the sheets, and cook Bear’s and my steak. Finally, when I’m too exhausted to care anymore, I climb in bed and fall asleep. Late the next morning, I wake. Bear presses against me. His big body like a furnace, and I snuggle him. Then get up and head to the bathroom. Bear lets out a low whine and curls himself into a ball, clearly not ready to be awake. I shower and get ready, ignoring Julia’s products and using my own. Then I brush out my hair. Blow-dry it and leave it down. I pull my bag filled with my favorite clothes out and debate whether to hang them up. Feeling a little weird, I glance at Bear, who’s still sleeping on the bed, and go into Julia’s closet. Casually, I open the drawers, not really sure whether I can ever get rid of her stuff. There’s a pair of sunglasses that catch my attention and I pick them up and put them on. “It figures you went for the four hundred thousand dollar sunglasses.” Julia’s ghost appears and is seated at the island in the middle of the closet. She crosses her arms and studies me with a combination of amusement and scorn. I can’t help but smile. It’s good to see her. Part of me hoped she would show up. That’s another reason I agreed to move in so quickly. Ghosts can sense these things. At least that’s what a spirit told me once. “Hey, Julia.” I remove the sunglasses and look at them. “How can these things cost so much?” She glides over to me. “Garrison gave those to me,” she says without answering my question. I put them back where I found them. “I’m sorry, Julia.” I step forward, holding out my hands, even though I know she can’t take them. “I tried to save you.” I

shake my head at the memory of finding Amanda strangling her. “Amanda is dead too,” I say softly, looking down at my feet. She’s suddenly in my space, so close I can see the outline of her form. “I know. We’ve talked.” I look up in surprise. If any ghost were to become a wraith, it would be Amanda. “You did? Is she okay?” Julia smiles. “Now that my sister is unencumbered by her injured brain, she’s back to the Amanda I knew as a child. In the After Life, we’re inseparable.” “That’s good news. If you don’t mind my asking, what was wrong with her?” With all of her family gone, I’m a little surprised she came to haunt me. No unfinished business. “Why are you here, then?” I decide it’s better to know the truth. She smiles sweetly. “Amanda fell out of a tree as a child. The doctors believe that’s what caused her brain injury but no one knows for sure. Plus, it doesn’t matter now. The After Life is lovely. I couldn’t be happier. But the ghost who did those things to Amanda? Naomi?” I nod. “What about her?” “When she took over Amanda’s body, Amanda saw and felt Naomi’s emotions and feelings. She also saw memories as well as thoughts and plans.” She tilts her head to one side. “She knows things about you. Secrets. And she doesn’t like you. Not even a little bit.” “Secrets?” I ask, glancing at myself in the mirror. “Did she tell you what they are?” Julia doesn't know I’m a ghoul. She doesn't know I’m the goddess of love. Nor does she know that I was in love with Dashel, the man Naomi married.” “No. Naomi isn’t in the After Life, which means she’s still here somewhere. Amanda said she’s planning something for you. Something big. She’ll come for you, and I want to help. That’s why I’m here and the reason I intend to hang around.” Julia’s courageousness turns sour. “Amanda told me you eat flesh…” She let the rest of her sentence die. “That’s true. I’m part ghoul.” There isn’t a point denying what she already

knows. “That part of my lineage has allowed me to live a long time. Well, that and other things.” I also don’t tell her that I’m the goddess of love. Or that I was. And that I might be again. When Ra touched my nose, I felt a change rush over me. Whether he gave me back my powers, I don’t know. What I do know is that Ra, like Sebastian, thinks it prudent to keep things from me. Like life is a game and I’m just a pawn. It’s beyond frustrating. “You saved your friend and became the goddess of love.” She knows. It seems Dashel told Naomi a lot about me. “Also true,” I say, making a face when she comes to stand beside me. “And you and Naomi’s husband, Dashel, were an item at one time?” Her question sends unadulterated pain through my heart. Because Dashel loved someone else. “Yes,” I it quietly. “But he left me at the altar. He didn’t love me.” I swallow, wishing the ache would go away. She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s it. There was a curse,” Julia begins. I turn to her, not wanting to talk about Dashel anymore. “Thank you, Julia, but I promise I’ll be okay. You should be with your family. I’ll take care of the house and your things. I won’t even wear Garrison’s glasses.” The throbbing in my heart clenches tighter. What kind of person is only friends with a dog and a ghost? I have problems. “I want you to wear the sunglasses. You only live once, right? And I can’t wear them.” She floats over to the tray and points. “Put them on.” I do and face her. “What do you think?” “Divine. But then anything will look good on you.” She studies my body. “Let’s get some clothes on you.” “They aren’t really my style,” I say softly. “But they could be. Come on.”

I smile at her enthusiasm, searching her closet for something that suits me. “I’m just not sure,” I finally say when I can’t decide on anything. “What’s a good I’mgoing-to-the-library-to-search-through-old-microfiche outfit?” When I was Lucy’s lady’s maid, she always asked me to help her decide on her dresses. My, how the times have changed. Julia hovers near a lower rack full of jeans. “Try on those.” She points to a dark and slim pair. I slide them on. They are so soft and hug me like someone painted them on. “Wow,” I say, checking out my reflection in the mirror. “Right.” Julia goes over to the shirts. They are button-up, and some are lacy. Others have ties and stars and things I don’t like. “Any tee shirts?” I ask, trying not to make a face. Once I moved to America, and women started wearing man’s clothes, there was no turning back for me. I was a breeches and man shirt, kind of woman most of the time. As an agent for the KPID, they let me wear whatever I wanted as long as I took care of business. I always did. “Here’s a tank that matches your hair.” “Yeah, that might be too matching.” I suddenly understand why Lucy would get irritated with me sometimes. “This then?” I lift it from the rack and hold it up to myself in the mirror. It’s a black tee-shirt, so of course, I love it. “Yep.” I slide it over my head. “And then this tan jacket will give you a pop of color and look nice with your eyes.” It isn’t my black leather, but it is lovely. The tag is still on it with a price of over a thousand dollars. I slide it on, loving the feel and the fit. “It looks good, yes?” “You look stunning. Better than I would’ve looked in that outfit.” She stops at the shoes. “These boots will look great.” “I have big feet,” I say, thinking I would just wear my own shoes. But I do find the sock drawer and pull some on.

“So do I. Try them.” Sure enough, they fit. “Thank you, Julia.” I give myself another once over in the mirror before heading out of the room. “Harriet,” she calls but doesn’t leave the closet. “Yeah?” I glance back at her. She’s gloomy again. “In a roundabout way, you’re like my family. I’m glad all of my worldly possessions belong to you.” Her great, great whatever grandfather is my only true love, so I guess in a way, we could be. “Sisters then?” I’m old enough to be her great great whatever grandmother, but that won’t do. “Sisters.” Julia floats over like she’s going to give me a hug but stops. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she says. “Did Sebastian put you up to leaving everything to me?” I have to ask. Whether it’s true or not, I need to know. She shakes her head. “I felt a connection to you immediately. He spoke about you and I told him my plans but no, he didn’t put me up to it. This,” she says and spins in a circle. “This is all my idea. I didn’t want to die but I had a feeling.” A shadow es over her features. “You’ll let me hang around won’t you?” Relief washes through me. I appreciate her honesty. ittedly, I felt a connection with her as well. “If that’s what you want, then yes. Stay as long as you like.” I smile, glad she wants to stay. Ghost or not, I am glad we can really get to know one another. “Thanks again, Julia.” “Of course,” she says, waving and vanishes. Bear is still sleeping. “Come on, boy. You need to go outside while I head to the library for research.” I still want to see what I can find about Dashel and Naomi and Dashel’s life. Call me a sucker for punishment. The dog yawns and stretches, taking his time.

I watch him, unable to help but smile. Then he jumps off the bed and heads down the stairs, waiting at the door. I grab the keys to my truck as well as the keys to the house. There is a complicated alarm system and a guy that supposedly handles the gate. He left a message on my phone asking if he should come in last night while I was making dinner. I told him to wait and come in after Julia’s funeral. Now I wish I would’ve just said yes. With a sigh, I lock the front door. Bear takes off and disappears around the side of the house. “See you later,” I call. The drive from Julia’s house to the library is only ten minutes. I have to get a library card. The lady behind the desk is kind and helpful if a little surprised I don’t have a card in the first place. It wasn’t necessary until now. Then she leads me over to the microfiche and shows me how to use it. Not that I needed her help. I used the machine when it was first invented. But I let her do her job. When she finished, she excused herself, and I had the back room to myself.

25

I spend an hour just trying to decide where to start. There are dozens of newspaper articles on Dashel and Naomi, as well as the other four. It seems they were considered royalty in the town, making them very newsworthy. I also find the picture that’s hanging in Benny’s and an article about the speakeasy. I also look up birth, marriage, and death certificates on each of the six people, including Dashel. It’s surreal to read about his life. To see pictures of him with Naomi Reed, his wife. Then more photos of their children—two boys and a girl. The articles always mention Dashel as a businessman but never go into detail, making me wonder if it’s because he was making and selling liquor illegally in the speakeasy and elsewhere. His wife is in all the pictures too. She’s a lovely woman, but I already know that. She’s also a murderous bitch who killed Julia and tried to kill me. In the photos, she looks the part of a prosperous woman of nobility. As I follow Naomi and Dashel’s lives through the years, I can’t help but feel jealous. Naomi lived my life. She bore Dashel children, and together they appeared quite happy. Things change when the youngest turns five. The paper posts a birthday picture of the child and the family, except their oldest son isn’t there. One source said he was at boarding school in the East. That made sense, but I wonder whether it was Dashel or Naomi who sent him away. A few months later, there’s a write up about Naomi. She and her two younger children were in a tragic and fatal car crash. All died, apparently by drowning. Dashel is said to have been in California on business. Neither he nor his son was mentioned again. After that, the speakeasy went under. The other two men were arrested, and the paper stops mentioning them as well. I think about what I was doing during the years Dashel was living here. I was still with the KPID. My heart was still broken, and I made everyone around me

suffer because of it. “Ms. Everly, the library is closing. You’ll need to leave.” The librarian is standing beside me. I didn’t even hear her come in. “Okay, thank you. I’ll be right out.” I put everything away, feeling no closer to my answer about Dashel than I was this morning. Sure, I know he was married and had children. I know he was a businessman. I read the obituary for Naomi and the two younger children. It said she was survived by Dashel and their son, Nathan. That’s the final article. As I print copies of the items I want to read again, I decide to come back tomorrow and search newspapers in California for information about Dashel. After locking up, the librarian says goodnight and walks me out. I watch her drive away. Wave. Then look up at the moon. It’s full tonight. As clouds by, I catch glimpses of it in all its glory. On the drive back to Julia’s place, I can’t help iring the moon. It means I’m distracted, and when I look again at the road, I’m caught off guard by a naked man running out in front of me. “Shit!” I slam on the break, trying to miss him, but I still clip the side of him, and he goes down. Throwing the truck in park, I run over. He’s on his side. “Hey,” I call, tapping him with my foot. Please don’t be dead. I don’t want to add vehicular manslaughter to the list of reasons Tom could throw me back in jail. Crouching, I touch the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He moans and rolls onto his back. Familiarity brushes through me. “Can it be?” I squat down, brushing his dark hair off his face. My hand is shaking as are my thighs and I kneel unable to believe it’s true. I’ve thought the worst about him and what could’ve happened to him all those years ago. I believed myself unworthy of him. That because of my ghoulishness, I was to blame for our relationship ending. Never in all that time did I stop loving him. Then Sebastian and even the God of the Sun, Ra, demanded I locate him—my true love. In the last few weeks, I came to realize he might not be dead like I thought. And worse, he might have become a paranormal and just didn’t want me. From joy to horror, exhilaration, and anger, all sorts of emotions roll through my heart. He’s

here. After more than two hundred years. “Dashel?” Even saying his name leaves me breathless. His eyes flutter open. When they find mine, he smiles. “Hi, Harry. It’s been a long time. Did you miss me?” He tries to smirk, but it comes out more of a grimace. I snort. I can’t help it. That’s how I sometimes roll, mostly when I’m in utter and total shock. “It is you.” He tries to sit up. I want to help but I’m in shock. My eyes travel the length of his naked body. Talk about abs for days and muscles like he’s been working out daily the last two hundred years. “Why are you here? Why now?” Dashel holds out his hand. “Can you help me up? It’s freezing out here.” Without thinking I take his hand. A jolt of energy rushes through me. Dashel’s eyes get wide and I know he felt it too. “Your powers are back?” He’s surprised. “I think so.” Dammit. What is Ra playing at? “How did you find me?” I ask, holding on to him like if I let go, he’ll disappear. “I didn’t, Harriet. You found me.” I’m confused as I watch him get into the truck. “I don’t understand,” I say, turning the key as the engine roars to life. “Take me home and I’ll tell you all about it.” “You know where I live?” He chuckles. “I’ve been sleeping with you for days.” My confusion deepens until I understand what he’s saying. “Bear?” I take my eyes off the road to study his eyes.

“In the human flesh.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “But how?” I ask, turning my focus back to the road. “Ra. He’s the reason I became a dog. He’s the reason I wasn’t able to meet you on our wedding day.” His voice is soft like he’s suffering. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “Ra changed you into a dog.” I feel like an idiot but none of this makes sense. “Why would he do that?” “In exchange for your freedom.” Every time Dashel answers one question, more fill my mind. We arrive at Julia’s residence and I park in front of the house. “I don’t get it,” I say, knowing I sound immature. Dashel turns to me, his eyes soft. Even in the moonlight, I can see what he wants. Me. “I only have twenty-four hours like this. How about we take this conversation upstairs and into the shower?” A shiver of need courses through me. “I think that’s a very good idea.”

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed Ghoulish Whisper, please leave a review. The next book in Harriet’s story will release later this year. Titled: Ghoulish Disguise. Be on the look out.

While you’re waiting for Harriet’s next case, be sure to check out RaShelle’s other supernatural suspense series, Eerie Valley Supernaturals. UNDERCOVER REAPER TWICE REAPED REAPERS CREEPERS (2021)

New town. New job. New supernatural power. I reap the dead and there's plenty of work in Eerie Valley. My name is Faith Ghraves and I'm a detective in the small town of Eerie Valley, just outside of Los Angeles, California. A few months ago I started to see the spirits of the recently deceased. On one fateful night, I accidentally touched one and without knowing how sent the spirit to the afterlife. No one knows my secret because how would I tell them. Instead, I pretend to be just an average woman with a badge and gun. There are two cases my partner and I are working. The first is that of a child who's gone missing. The second involves dead strippers. The FBI is also involved. They believe the murders are the work of a twisted serial killer and they want to use me as bait. That means going undercover. As a stripper. The prospect is terrifying. Even more scary than seeing the dead. But I never was one to back down from a sucky situation. As we uncover more about each case, it becomes apparent nothing in this town is ordinary and the supernatural is everywhere.

Also by RaShelle Workman

EERIE VALLEY SUPERNATURALS

Undercover Reaper

Twice Reaped

THE FAIRYTALE CHRONICLES

Royal Selection

Royal Curse

PARANORMAL INVESTIGATIONS

Ghoulish Whisper

SEVEN MAGICS ACADEMY

Blood and Snow

Fate and Magic

Queen of the Vampires

Deadly Witch

Royal Witch

Vampire Lies

Vampire Secrets

Vampires & Gargoyles

Vampires & Dragons

Vampire Magics

FAIRY ACADEMY

Hidden Princess

Broken Curse

Stolen Magic

DEMONLAND SERIES

Alice in Demonland

Alice Fights Demonland

Alice Takes Demonland

Alice Ignites Demonland

A BEAUTY SO BEASTLY: Exclusively on the Radish app.

TANGLED WITH THE VAMPIRE: Exclusively on the Radish app.

IMMORTALS

Venus Falling

GODS AND PARANORMALS

Goddess Curse

Mystical Gift

FABLE TOWN COZY MYSTERY SERIES

Iced Raspberry Cookies and a Curse

WOLF BLOOD ACADEMY

Initiation

Induction

Inheritance

_______

COMING JULY 2021 to Kindle Vella:

Midlife Mail Order Vampire by Bess Morgan (Paranormal Cozy)

Marriage is risky, but at forty, it can be monstrous. In 1873 England, I'm a spinster. But when I answer an ad and agree to be Jasper St. John's bride, my thirst for a romantic adventure is on the horizon. As we sail to America, there's instant chemistry between us. But a scary run-in with a stranger leaves me a vampire. Then, Jasper's handsy friend is murdered, and Jasper is the lead suspect. With my dreams so close, I must find the real killer, hopefully without revealing my newfangled secret.

Fallen City (YA Paranormal)

Angels rule Fallen City, but beyond the wall, anything goes. For nobody's like my roommate and me, breaking the law is the only way to survive. Desperate, we make promises with Fileze the Werewolf Sleaze for our freedom, which backfires. Now I have feelings for my mark, who is also an advisor at the Nephilim Academy. And my roommate has agreed to be a vampire's pet. I don't want her to become a bloodsucker, but I'm dealing with my own issues. Like, I might be the thing I despise most. An angel.

About the Author

RaShelle Workman is an international bestselling author. Several of her books have been translated into Turkish and her BLOOD AND SNOW series has sold over a million copies worldwide. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys baking, creating new taco recipes, and watching Supernatural. RaShelle lives in Utah with her husband, three children and their three dogs. Find her online by visiting her website at: www.rashelleworkman.org. She also writes inspirational romance with a hint of mystery as Ann Hardy.