Page 7 of Zylus

I return his pleasant smile, wondering how much it will cost to upgrade my subdural translator which is clearly on the fritz. Piece of barnacle, indeed.

We disagree completely on the kitchen. He wants it to have the latest conveniences, so it will be up to the task of cooking breakfast for a small mob. I have my heart set on the old-fashioned appliances I saw in pictures from the mansion’s bygone days.

He shrugs. “We don’t have to start there. Those are details we can agree on later.”

I like his laid-back attitude as much as I like his face.

When my stomach clenches in anxiety at the thought of sharing the house with him tonight, it’s hard to disregard how eager he was to move in. He’s got to have an ulterior motive, right?

I don’t get a pervy vibe from him, though, and having him just down the hall will be reassuring in case the ghost returns.

Still, I’m sure he’s hiding something. I guess it remains to be seen exactly what that secret is.

Before returning to the Inn, Zylus and I make a beeline for Hallion’s biggest home improvement store. I’ve never seen so many power tools in one place. It reminds me how little I know about construction, though I’m not going to admit it.

“Okay, what’s first on the list?” I ask, grabbing a cart that’s roughly the size of a small hovercraft.

Zylus consults the list he made on his wrist-comm. “We need to pick out flooring for the main areas. I’m thinking something classic, like hardwood or tile.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Hardwood? In a place with that much foot traffic? It’ll be scratched to hell in a week.”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it.” He winks—wow, this male is handsome. “Adds character.”

“More like adds to my future headaches,” I mutter, steering the cart toward the flooring section.

We spend the next hour bickering good-naturedly over samples. I’m all for the durability of Hallion’s equivalent of stained concrete, but Zylus insists it’s too “industrial” for the inn’s vibe. He keeps gravitating toward these ridiculously expensive marble tiles that look as though they belong in some snooty art museum.

“Oooh, how about this one?” I hold up a sample of fluorescent orange linoleum while controlling my urge to vomit. “Nice and bright, really makes a statement.”

Zylus looks physically pained. “The only statement that’s making is ‘I have no taste, please gouge out your eyeballs.’”

I clutch my chest in mock-offense. “Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“I just did.” But he’s fighting back a smile as he plucks the sample from my hand and chucks it over his shoulder.

In the end, we compromise on a nice slate tile for the high-traffic areas and some reclaimed wood for the bedrooms. I’ve got to admit, the man’s got a good eye for this. Not that I’ll ever admit it to his face.

Next up is paint, which sparks a whole new round of good-natured squabbling.

“What’s wrong with a nice, neutral gray?” Zylus asks, exasperated, as I veto yet another of his choices.

“What’s wrong is that it’s boring.” I brandish a swatch of electric blue. “We need something that pops, y’know? Really grabs people’s attention.”

He huffs out a laugh. “The only thing that color’s gonna grab is a neon sign that says ‘look at me, I’m tacky’.”

I stick my tongue out at him. Real mature, I know. “Fine, what’s your brilliant idea then?”

Zylus hums thoughtfully, scanning the rows of paint cans. Then his face lights up and he reaches for one on the top shelf. “Here, what about this?”

I peer at the label. “Mystic Moonbeam?” I scoff.

“Trust me.” He pops open the lid and I lean in for a closer look. It’s a soft, shimmery silver that seems to shift in the light. Almost ethereal.

“Huh.” I tilt my head, considering. “That’s actually… kinda perfect.”

Zylus grins, looking far too smug. “Told you. It’ll go great with the dark wood trim.”

I roll my eyes but can’t quite hide my smile. “Okay, okay, you win this round. But I get final say on the bathroom fixtures.”

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