Page 27 of Ravished By the Reaper

“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 transportedyou 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?

“Listen.” I struggle to keep my voice calm without the tremor that has my mouth quivering. “I appreciate you taking care of me after I…” Lost consciousness? Passed out? Had a hysterical meltdown when convinced I’d seen a beast of a man? None of those seem like the safest word choices. I settle on a neutral option. “After I fell, but I really need to be going. My friends will worry about me.” I push to a stand, but my body goes tight and still at the quick sounds of rustling fabric and the clack of hard-soled shoes. Fear traces a ghostly finger of ice along my spine, and chills skate across my flesh.

“You can’t leave. The portal has closed.” He doesn’t sound ominous, merely surprised I hadn’t come to this insane and illogical conclusion myself.

My patience snaps with a crack of my temper. “I’m done with this haunted house nonsense. Your training has clearly been thorough, but you can quit playing whatever part the corporation assigned you.”

“Corporation?” He sounds unsure, and I want to yell at him to stop messing around. “There’s no one else involved in our arrangement. Just you, me, and the matchmaker.”

“Matchmaker?” My heart rabbits in my chest, my throat goes dry, and the word comes out strangled. “What matchmaker?”

“In the human world, he goes by Theo.”

“Theo’s a tour guide. A hot one, I’ll grant you?—”

He snickers. “Hot as the hell dimension he escaped from, I’m sure, although I don’t understand how you know this.” His tone goes frosty. “Did he touch you?” He bites out the question in a cruel, vicious clip. “Is that why you seek to call off our bargain? To summon him?” The last comes on a growl that makes me shiver.

Adrenaline races through me in fight-or-flight instinct, with logic yelling at me to run, and my pride insisting that I don’t need to take this jealousy from someone whose face I haven’t even seen.

“Okay, stalker.” Yeah, yeah, redheaded rage—I’ve heard all the jokes, but in my case, there’s truth to the cliché. “You have zero right to question who I talk to or who I allow to touch me. I wouldn’t bother meeting any matchmaker, because I don’t want a relationship. What I need is time, and another jerk of a boyfriend won’t help me with that.”

“Another—?”

I cut off his interruption. “We have nobargain. Now, stop skulking in the shadows, and come out where I can see who I’m arguing with. Or are you the one who’s scared, instead of the one doing the scaring?” A sliver of dread slams into me, hinting that perhaps I should’ve stopped before throwing down a challenge.

“You don’t want me to come out into the light.”

“Yes, I really do.”

No, you don’t, the primitive part of my brain whispers.

He hesitates, remaining hidden. “On second thought, summon Theo and askhimabout our bargain.”

Summonhim? How? Oh yeah, the stupid plastic jewelry. Theo said to hold the middle sigil for five seconds. I squeeze the center button on my bracelet, expecting a buzz, or a light, or something to indicate that I activated my Host Signal. Reminding myself that this is reality and not a scene from a comic book, I cross my arms over my chest and wait in the silence that’s interrupted only by the demon kitty’s purring.

“Meg?” Theo’s voice comes over a speaker I can’t see.

“Theo?” I feel like an idiot talking when I can’t see him.

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