Talk about some cryptic shit. How much training did this guy receive in creeping out guests with words alone? So far, this house looks scary on the outside, normal on the inside, and not at all what I expected. But Theo’s solemnness sends shivers up my spine that have me damn near shaking. My heart triple-bangs like a gong being clanged as a battle rattle, and my breath catches in a panic-punch that burns like a flame charm in my favorite online game.
Gripping the miniature in my fist, I stop before I break her. What would Lady Snarl do? She would march her ass down the stairs and let Theo find Ava, since he’ll be faster. Right now, I hate my own creation.
“Okay,” I mumble and slow drudge down the first few steps. My feet feel as though they weigh a thousand pounds each. I’m more of a lumbering orc than the graceful healer I play in most games. “Wait—” I spin toward the door that slams in my face. So much for an easy exit.
The lights twinkle happily in a path that leads me down, down, down. “Hello?” I call, cringing when my voice echoes back to me. How far does this staircase go? To the seven circles of hell?
I lower my voice to a whisper-yell. “Leander?”
No one answers. I’m not sure if I’m stressed or relieved to be alone. A purr from below has me jumping. A tiny kitty with huge eyes stares up at me before winding around my legs, brushing its fur against my jeans in a swish.
I stoop to pet the sweet baby who rewards me with a head butt. “You must be Leander.”
“Mwrr.” The squeaky meow seems to be all the answer I’ll get.
A shimmering pool of color appears a few stairs below.
Let the terror begin.
Haunted houses go to the top of my “nope out” list for future fun. I debate sitting on the steps with the kitten and waiting until Theo comes back to find me. Except he mentioned a mission, and I don’t like to leave things unfinished. It would be the same as abandoning a half-carved game set. Sacrilege.
My furry new friend darts down the stairs into the rainbow abyss, stopping long enough to look back at me with a you coming? taunt, and my loyalty rushes forward. I can’t let an itty-bitty kitty tread into the unknown with grown-ass me too afraid to follow. Not when I want to level up from healer to warrior more than anything. I stumble ahead, leading with borrowed courage instead of brains. The lights flicker again in a ripple. Hurry, I can imagine them saying. Intensity and impatience thrum through me.
I rush through the colors, my head spinning and my stomach threatening to be sick on a roiling wave. Don’t pass out becomes my new goal.
“Leander?” I murmur, hoping the kitty can hear my pitiful rasp.
“I’m here, Meg.” A deep voice full of gravel and grit booms from above. That definitely doesn’t belong to a teeny black cat.
The rustle of movement and a rush of warm air has me looking way up. A beast looms over me. Darkness swirls, and my vision goes hazy.
Looks like I might pass out after all.
3
MEG
I come to in a princess bed—which startles me as much as anything else in a haunted house could. My childhood dreams revolved around me being a knight in dented armor or a sorcerer with full spell robes—not a pretty, poufy dress in sight. The scents of earth, damp stone, and spices fill my nose. A netting draped around the four posters hangs in perfect symmetry, as though someone designed this room and this bed for the gauzy, sheer veil that separates me from whatever waits beyond.
Panic has me bolting to a sit. How long did I sleep? Where are my friends? And why did they leave me down here? I grab for the bracelet, ready to call Theo so I can tell him how shitty his establishment is. Ava’s mom would love to sue them for whatever trippy drugs they piped in to make me pass out. Add moving me while I was knocked out, and she’ll be screaming six figure settlement for emotional distress.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” It’s the same deep voice from earlier.
My pulse picks up in a fast thump thump that makes me freeze, and a thrill runs through me. Stop it. Just because he sounds like the bad boy version of my favorite streaming gaming channel host doesn’t mean my body should react. I can’t let hormones stand in the way of me getting out of here. The kitten picks that moment to jump through a gap in the netting and pad across the bedding. With a purr to rival a toy freight train and a swish of a tail, he curls into a ball and settles in for a nap.
“I’m guessing the cat isn’t Leander,” I say to the darkness, since I can’t see anyone else in the room. Maybe hiding in the shadows comes with the haunted house care package.
A sin-soaked chuckle rolls over me, and I push down desire. That’s it. I’m joining a hookup-heavy dating app when my friends and I get back to civilization. I don’t need a relationship messing with my mind or any commentary from asshole boyfriends about my weight, my appetite, my clothes, my hobbies, or anything else, but if I’m going to fantasize about a laugh? It means my dry spell has gone on far too long.
“The cat’s name is Oggie.” The voice moves. “Or at least he goes by that name in his other form. I assume he took this one to lure you through the portal before any of my rivals showed.”
My brain stalls. Theo’s old-timey talk was one thing, but who trained this guy? The Villains’ Mastermind School? “What do you mean, his other form?” The rest of what he said replays in my mind. “What portal? And who has rivals? Like an arch-nemesis?”
Yeah, I speed-read comics and binge-watch sci-fi. No, I’m not going to be ashamed about my hobbies ever again. I stroke the kitten’s soft fur while I wait for answers. He cuddles closer. This freakshow may be a colossal fail as a haunted house, but the pet perks are phenomenal. I stare past the flickering candles but see nothing.
He—or I assume that barrel-chested rumble comes from a man—stalks the shadows just beyond the light. “I have multiple enemies, I refer to the dimensional portal that transported you to me, and Oggie’s short for Oggdalon.” His matter-of-fact delivery sounds as if he ticks off each answer, as though he’s running through a grocery list. The guy should have shelves lined with shiny awards, given his superb method acting. “Oggie’s a sentinel demon.”
“What?” I swallow a shriek and yank my hand away from the kitten as the possibility that I’m petting a demon puts my lungs in a chokehold. “A d-demon?” Said demon yowls, giving me an indignant look before shoving his head against my fingers for more neck scratches.
“One with the important responsibility of standing watch at the portals.”
I can’t even process this conversation, my mind bumping along at a stumbling speed. “So your enemies don’t come through?” Who wrote this awful script?
“Exactly.” The deep rumble is reassuring, but the fact that I can’t see who’s talking has my gut churning.
He sounds big, and big can mean dangerous when pissed off. Even my scrawny cheating ex turned nasty and scary within minutes of being caught. So much so that I took off from the apartment that we shared, not imagining that he would snatch and sell every game board I had hand-crafted. I found out when he broke up with me a week later. If my sniveling ex could be so diabolical after claiming to love me, what might a complete stranger hiding himself in the shadows be capable of?