To save her ghost-hunting career, psychic Kayde Foster must confront an evil and darkly attractive entity that has taken up residence in her uncle's business.
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Kayde prides herself on being fearless. Ghosts? Crumbling buildings? Scary legends? No...
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My nerves were frazzled, I was exhausted, and I badly needed a bath.
My pits stank to high heaven and I was pretty sure there were sweat stains on the dress I was wearing. I self-consciously tucked in my hands under my arms, following Minnie down the elaborate hallway that led from the Shadow's bedroom.
My eyes flickered across the web-coated windows, a weight sinking into my gut. There was no escaping this place. I needed to get back to my friends and family. I did not know what the Shadow was up to right now—but it probably wasn't good.
It was dark outside. I couldn't really see through the windows, even if I squinted. Scones with low orange flames lined the brocade-like walls—it baffled me how it didn't catch the manor on fire. Magic. I guess that was the answer.
Every so often, Minnie would hum to herself. When we reached the staircase to head below, she paused to whisper, "Just a bit of a friendly warning—Droll doesn't like anybody. He's a big ol' sourpuss. Cook might throw things at you, but that just means he likes you. Unless it's a knife."
I flushed with surprise and hugged myself tighter. Jiminy Christmas. What the hell was I in for?
I suddenly sort of wished the Shadow would come back soon. Ugh, even wanting that is so messed up. So pathetic. He is a literal monster and wants you dead too, Kayde.
"Thanks for the warning," I nearly wheezed.
Was the air getting thinner? Or was I about to freak the fuck out? Here I was in some kind of pocket realm—that the Shadow created—with only heaven knows how many monsters. How did my situation get so messed up?
I should have never offered to help Chris.
The first floor opened up to a wide dining room sporting a white table that had to be ten feet or longer. Elaborate chairs and shiny silverware twinkled in the light from a nearby hearth. Over the table was also a seriously breathtaking chandelier—with clear stones resembling tear drops dangling from the silver. Priceless-looking paintings—from the sixteenth or seventeenth century by the style—lined the walls.
Everything was decorated. Vases. Golden upholstery. Yellowed music pages atop a wood piano in the corner; there were even baskets filled with yarn. Did somebody here knit? I couldn't picture the Shadow knitting.
Minnie directed with her clasper hands for me to follow. "Right this way, madam."
I hadn't realized I had stopped dead in the middle of the room, staring at everything like a dope. In my defense, I loved history, and I'd seen nothing like this. It was so rich, raw, and refreshing to see so much fashionable time coalesce into one place. That's what I loved about ghost hunting—you could always count on seeing some really interesting stuff, but it was never this pristine.
This was like stepping straight into the past.
My stomach did a roll when I realized there was movement coming from the kitchen—which, it had to be the kitchen, because I could smell some kind of bread making. The warm, yeasty aroma made my mouth water. When was the last time I'd ate?
Minnie flapped her translucent wings and ran her pinchers over her black, hairy body, and hunched her shoulders inward. "Cook?"
I followed her into the kitchen, my eyes immediately catching on the many copper pans nailed to the walls. I stopped short when I saw somebody working hard in front of an old-fashioned brick oven and fought the urge to gasp.
Cook was huge. That was number one. Number two, Cook wasn't human. Then again, what did I expect? His skin was green—almost the green of bile—and very scaly. He had a small head, a thick neck, very big hands that kneaded dough on the table. His apron was covered with flour, tied around a thin waist. He turned his gecko-like head in my direction, and I did gasp when I saw the color of his eyes: bright purple.
"This is it? This her?" Cook snapped out.
I fought the urge to turn tail and get the hell out of here. Instead, I focused on my breathing, planting my feet firmly underneath me and giving him a weak smile. I'd seen a lot of scary and disturbing stuff from feeling the past of an object or place—I could handle a lizard man.
I can handle a lizard man.
"Yes! This is our new guest." Minnie chittered, fluffing the end of her frilly skirt with her pinchers. "It seems Master has woken us up. How exciting! So much things to do now that we are awake. Don't you agree?"
"But it's human," he seemed to snarl, wiping his hands on his apron and giving me a go-to-hell look. "Humans are greedy, destructive creatures."
Fantastic. Maybe I couldn't handle a lizard man.
Minnie looked nervous. Come to think about it, as soon as she stepped foot into this room, she seemed unsteady. She scratched the back of her head. "Master knows all kinds of creatures. I am sure she won't give us any trouble. Her name is Kayde."
Cook grunted, narrowed his eyes at me, then continued to work as if we didn't exist.
Awkward.
Never in my life did I ever think I'd want to be liked by a... whatever he was. It wasn't like I wanted to be here. I had no choice but to be here right now. The more Cook worked, the more my chest seemed to tighten. I really wished Darby was here. She could probably tell me what he was or if she'd read anything about his kind.
"Are we going to see Droll?" I blurted without even thinking.
Where did I get the balls?
Cook snorted.
Minnie shook her head. "Oh, no, dear. It would be best to stay out of his way. Besides, I know it isn't easy coming from your realm to here. It might be hard on a human. I want this to be the most comfortable stay you've ever had." Her ant-like mouth contorted into something resembling a smile. "Speaking of which. We should get you washed up with some new clothes. Once that is done, we can bring you supper and you can rest. I have quite a lot of things to tend to and clean. Does that sound okay, madam?"
I nodded. Before I could open my mouth to thank her, what sounded like a door thwacked open so hard that it rattled the pots and pans on the wall. Cook muttered shit, and Minnie reached out to me and pulled me behind her.
"What was that?" I gasped out, trying to see around her. Did it come from the dining room?
"Droll," she whispered. "Stay behind me, please."
A booming, ominous voice as deep as a cavern seemed to cut through my skin and sink to my bones.
"Who is here? Who has come into this realm and made a mess of everything?"