To top everything off, the home was situated at the edge of a bluff that overlooked the town’s namesake harbor. The view was seriously something straight from a postcard. I dragged my gaze back to the front door, the sounds and smells of the ocean providing a lulling sense of calm. Though the house was formally in a neighborhood, the subdivision was far enough away that there was a serene sense of privacy to the property itself.
I sighed heavily, the full weight of the last twenty-four hours hitting me in the chest. I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to anyone or go to my favorite shops one last time. It was all just … gone.
I wouldn’t be homeless, but I still felt that way, even standing in front of the beautiful manor.
Granted, I couldn’t remember the last time someplace had actually felt like home, anyway. Not since my parents died. The Seattle Haven had come close; after another year or two there, I would’ve been able to open my own business, legally, and could’ve really made something of myself.
I huffed, disgusted at myself. So much for that plan. It was time to shift gears yet again to plan B, or C, or whatever letter of the alphabet I was on now. I’d lost track a while ago.
Boots bashed his head against my leg, a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone.
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I glanced down at his furry face. His amber eyes glowed up at me and I nodded. “You’re right, Bootsie. I’m never truly alone.” I stooped over and gathered the large tabby into my arms and started up the walk. “We’re going to be okay.”
When I reached the front door, I drew in a deep breath, and raised my hand. After two sharp knocks, a voice filtered through the heavy door as loudly as if someone was suddenly standing next to me. “Please come in. It’s unlocked.”
I dropped a glance at Boots. That was odd.
He blinked slowly. I took that as a sign of agreement.
“Okay,” I replied, reaching for the doorknob. I pushed into the house slowly, as though expecting an ambush on the other side. Harvey, what did you get me into …
When the door opened all the way, I found myself staring at a ghost. Literally. She had that shimmery, silver quality that marked all ghosts. At least it explained the way she’d thrown her voice and the reason why I had to open the front door and let myself inside. She was fairly tall, probably about my height, and from the looks of her, had passed away in her fifties. Her hair was coiled up on top of her head in a tight bun and her eyes reminded me of some kind of bird of prey: sharp, alert, and somewhat cold.
She smiled as I crossed the threshold and her expression softened. She dropped her eyes to Boots. “Oh, the SPA didn’t mention you had a cat. I guess I should have assumed you’d be bringing an animal though. Is this your familiar?”
I nodded. “Yes. This is Boots. I promise he’ll be no trouble.”
I gave him a pointed look. He blinked, feigned innocence reflecting back at me as though he were just an overgrown kitten.
Right.
I closed the front door behind me and dropped the satchel that was dangling from my shoulder. “Are you the homeowner?”
“Oh! Where are my manners?” She straightened and fussed with the collar on her shirt. “I do apologize. I’m Posy, the lady of the house. Welcome to the Beechwood Manor.”
“Thank you. Do you need to see my ID or anything?”
She shook her head. “No, dear. I know who you are. I had quite a long chat with your agent, Harvey Colepepper.”
I nodded, forcing my smile to stay in place. What had Harvey told her? I could just imagine him reading Posy the details in the file he kept on me, probably the same battered folder he’d had with him at the police station.
“Anyway, you look just the way he described. Let me show you to your room.” She shimmered, changing into the more transparent version of her form, which was necessary for travel. Ghosts could travel much like the living, floating from place to place, or they could evaporate and reappear somewhere familiar to them. The ghosts I’d met in my life had each possessed varying degrees of abilities.
I leaned over, bracing Boots on my hip, and grabbed my satchel from the place I’d dropped it. The satchel was charmed with space-saving magic that allowed me to easily pack away all my books, potion-making materials, clothing, and other items, all in one small bag. It had cost me a month’s wages, but with the amount of times I’d been forced to move over the past six years, it had proved to be a worthwhile investment.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” Posy asked as she drifted down a hall off to the right of the gorgeous grand staircase. The history of the home practically took on a life of its own; I could feel it beating like a pulse with every step I took. If the manor was impressive on the outside, the inside was downright splendid. It was clear that Posy took great pride in its upkeep. How she managed it without the use of her hands was a mystery to me, but whatever she was doing, it was working. The wooden banisters were polished with a subtle sheen, there wasn’t a speck of dust on any of the small gallery-style tables we passed, and the paintings and pieces of art along the hallway walls were illuminated with brass light fixtures that also looked freshly polished.
The art was all rich and dark, lending a formal, old-world charm to the space. They must be the originals from the house. “Posy? Were you the original owner of the manor?”
She nodded, slowly gliding ahead of me, her shoes hovering a few inches above the thick carpet runners that lay over the glossy wood floors. “Yes. My husband built the manor when we first moved here. He made his money as a fisherman but then started to invest in building this town. In some ways, we were the founders of Beechwood Harbor. When we first came here, it was little more than a fishing town with a couple of frightful boarding houses and one saloon. And now … because of all of his hard work, it’s a thriving town.”
“That’s very impressive. The home is beautiful.”
“Thank you, dear. That’s a very nice thing to say.”
I wanted to ask about her husband but figured that it might be a delicate conversation based on the way she spoke of him. There would be time to learn the details later. Ghosts usually had very sad tales to tell. While most of the ghosts that I’d met were far enough removed from their own death that it no longer colored their life as a ghost, there were a handful of them who never really got over being dead. Those ghosts remained in a shadowy place, stuck somewhere between the past and the present. They’d never made peace with the end of their mortal life and therefore weren’t able to fully adapt to being a ghost.
Posy appeared to be in the latter camp. She was nice enough, but had a dark cloud hanging over her head that was evident in her forlorn tone and the sad look in her eyes.
“Here we are, Holly. This is your room.” She waved a hand at the open doorway and I stepped inside. Natural light from the morning sun spilled in from the large picture windows and splashed across a four-poster bed with two antique nightstands on either side. Across the room, there was a large, built-in set of stained-birch shelves that contrasted nicely with the heavy, dark woods throughout the rest of the room. They clearly weren’t original to the home, but they looked solid and provided a ton of storage.
I smiled and set Boots on the floor, so he could get a lay of the land before I turned back to Posy. “It’s very nice.”
She nodded. “There’s a TV in that cabinet,” she gestured across the room to the shelving and when I wandered over to investigate, I found that the screen was concealed behind a cabinet. It was a small screen, but I didn’t mind; I never watched much TV anyway. “Would you like to see the rest of the house now, or after you’ve had some time to settle in?”
I dropped my satchel onto the edge of the bed. “Now’s good. If you don’t mind, that is. I don’t want to keep you from …” my words trailed off as I struggled to think of what else she would be doing.
“You’re not keeping me, dear. Come along.” I stepped back into the hall and snapped my fingers at Boots. Posy smiled. “Come along,
kitty.”
Clearly Posy was a cat lady.
Good thing she couldn’t sneak Boots any treats—I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he put on one more pound. I’d have to put him in a stroller and roll him everywhere.
For the next hour, Posy showed me around the rest of the house. It turned out that she only rented out four of the manor’s bedrooms, so now that I’d moved in, there was only one room vacant. I asked her about the other occupants and she told me I would meet them that evening but didn’t give me any hints. The kitchen was a bright space with solid oak cabinets, a large L-shaped counter, and plenty of work room. There was a formal dining room, with a table for twelve, but Posy told me it was mostly for show. Most meals were eaten at the farmhouse-style table in the large kitchen. She showed me the section of cabinets that would be mine and explained that I was allowed to put security wards on them to keep the other roommates out, if I felt that necessary. I wondered if she knew that I was a potions witch and would be storing all kinds of unpleasant things in her cupboards.
I decided not to bring it up.
In any case, the kitchen would be perfect for brewing potions. There was a ton of counter space and a large gas stove that was ideal for potion work. I always preferred working with an open flame.
When we got out to the backyard, the rest of my apprehension over moving to a haunted house fell away. A large potting shed sat off to the side of the house, right out the back door. At some point, someone had converted it into a greenhouse, as one wall was completely made of windows. As we walked the grounds, Posy told me that if I wouldn’t mind cleaning it out, I could use it for whatever I’d like. There was also space for a couple of raised beds in a patch that would get full sun and I was already making a catalogue of necessary herbs in my head.
By the time she looped our tour back to my new bedroom, my mind was spinning with possibilities.
“Thank you, Posy. That was a great tour. I’m especially anxious to get out in that greenhouse.”
She smiled. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like once you’re done. No one has used it in years.”
I pocketed my hands and Boots came up behind me and nudged me with his head. “Will it be all right if I feed Boots in the kitchen?”
“Of course, dear.”
I nodded. “Okay. I just wasn’t sure what the roommates would think …” I was hoping to bait her into telling me more than just the names of my new roommates.
“I see. Well, you can ask them at the meeting this evening. If you’ll both be in the sitting room at six o’clock, we will make the introductions.” There was something about her tone that left no doubt that Posy was a stickler for the details.
“Right. Of course.”
“I’ll leave you now. Welcome home, Holly.”
She shimmered and then floated right up through the ceiling above me, and I wondered at her words.
“What do you think, Boots? Is this home?”
He rolled over onto his back and arched his big belly into the air.
“I’m really not sure how to interpret that,” I said, giggling as I lowered down to scratch his exposed tummy. “I guess we’ll know, once we meet our roomies.”
Chapter 8
After Posy left me to unpack, I curled up on the four-poster bed, thankful for a comfortable mattress, and slept for nearly seven hours before my alarm clock woke me up to get ready for the meeting. At six o’clock on the dot, I made my way out to the sitting room, one of the rooms included in my tour. I pushed through one of the two doors and stopped short. The room was empty. I’d at least expected to see Posy waiting. After all, she was the one to set the meeting in the first place and seemed so particular on the time.
I turned back around and glanced up and down the hall. I couldn’t hear anything. Where was everyone?
Boots slithered around my legs and meowed. I looked down at him and frowned. “We’ll get dinner in a little bit, Bootsie.”
All of a sudden, the house roared to life.
“I wouldn’t be late to the meeting if Adam would leave me alone for more than five minutes!” a shrill voice called out, the sound filtering down the stairs.
A male voice laughed.
“Both of you, go! Now! What do you want her to think of you?” a very distraught Posy scolded.
I scurried back into the sitting room and perched myself on the edge of one of the upholstered chairs and kept my expression blank, as though I hadn’t heard a thing.
“Just because she lives here now doesn’t mean we all have to be best friends, Posy,” the female voice insisted.
Boy, I can’t wait to meet her. Sounds like a real charmer.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs and I knew they didn’t belong to my ghostly host. I straightened and shot a look over at Boots, who was sniffing his way around the perimeter of the room. I could only imagine what he was smelling. According to Harvey, I was about to be introduced to a vampire and a shifter. Who knows what other kinds of creatures had been through this room over the years. If Posy had been running this place as a halfway house since her death there was bound to have been dozens, if not hundreds, of temporary occupants.
That’s a whole lotta supernatural.
The doors swung open with an irreverent slam and a tall man with jet black hair, equally dark eyes, and a half-cocked smile sauntered into the room. His grin widened as he looked me up and down. “Well hello there, gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous?” I repeated, arching a brow at him. I immediately recovered from the initial shock of his handsome face as soon as he opened his mouth. Well, at least mostly. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to throw myself into your arms?”
“If you want. I promise to catch you.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes. “Does that really work on anyone?”
He laughed but didn’t answer me. He strode over and offered me a hand. “Adam St. James. Shifter. Welcome to the manor.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but definitely not Adam. For whatever reason, when Harvey told me that I would be moving into a halfway house, I imagined the other occupants to be mangy and smelly. Adam was impeccably groomed and smelled like pine with notes of sandalwood.
“Holly Boldt. Elemental witch.” I accepted his hand and our eyes locked.
One thing was for sure: Adam was trouble.
“Get your dirty paws off our new roommate,” a cold, crystal-clear voice rang out.
I glanced past Adam’s broad shoulder just as a thin, blonde woman walk in. Judging by her pale skin, sharp nails, and frosty, clipped tone, she was my vampire—vampiress—roomie.
Adam growled at her over his shoulder. “Bite me, Lacey.”
“I don’t eat dogs,” she replied, casually gliding across the room.
Adam dropped my hand and crossed his arms, his flannel shirt pulling tight across his muscled form.
Trouble with a capital T.
Focus, Holly.
“You might want to look into getting a flea dip,” she told me, flashing a disdainful look back at Adam before bringing her startling eyes back to me. She gave me a tight smile and extended her hand. “Lacey Vaughn.”
I inclined my head and took her hand. “Holly Boldt. Nice to meet you.”
Posy joined us, her expression sour. She shot dark looks at both Adam and Lacey and then smiled once her eyes landed back on me. “I do apologize for my tardiness. I was collecting myself.” Another glare at Adam and Lacey. “I see you’ve all made the introductions.”
“Uh—yeah—and over there is Boots. He’s my familiar.”
Lacey’s lip curled back. Apparently not a cat person.
Adam on the other hand didn’t seem to mind. Then again, as a shifter, he was part animal himself. Though, from Lacey’s barbs, it sounded like his beast form was more canine than feline. Boots trotted over to inspect Lacey and Adam in turn.
“So, what brought you here, Holly?” Adam asked. He squatted down beside Boots and scratched under his chin.
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I drew in a deep breath, unsure of how to spin my story. I hadn’t had much time to think of anything. The long nap had helped some, but my thoughts were still scrambled and unfocused as I struggled to catch up with all the events of the past twenty-four hours.
“I needed a change of pace from the city,” I said, shrugging casually.
Boots glanced up at me and I wrinkled my nose at the suspicion in his eyes. Shoosh, cat.
“Well, we’re all glad that you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve had a witch in residence,” Posy replied.
Lacey looked at me skeptically, as though she wasn’t buying my story. At least, not completely. I wanted to turn the tables and ask them why they were in Beechwood Harbor, but Lacey started speaking before I could find a polite way to phrase my question. “Listen, there aren’t a lot of rules around here, but I have some requests—” the tone of her voice left no room for question, “—I sleep from the hours of five or six, depending on the sunrise, until two or three in the afternoon. I prefer that those hours not be interrupted by anything.” She shot a deadly glare at Adam.
He smirked at her.
“So,” she returned her eyes to mine, “I ask that there not be visitors of any sort during those hours and that all loud conversations or activities be taken elsewhere or held off until my waking hours.”
Adam chuckled and shook his head. “Damn, Lacey, you sure know how to roll out the welcome wagon. You gonna lecture her about your special crystal goblet collection next?”
Lacey glared at him, then shot Posy an equally dark look and swirled around. It was like in her mind she was wearing a long cape. She tossed her blonde hair behind her and sashayed out of the room. Was there such a thing as a Dracula complex?
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