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R ichard sat on a black velvet chaise and ignored the thick fringe brushing against his fingers as he unzipped his heeled boots. One thing he hadn’t been gifted with was height, but Richard couldn’t complain about much else. Although he’d had a long day, his work fueled him, and he appreciated the hint of exhaustion. It proved to him he’d given everything he could to ensure the Marwood guests were satisfied.

The door to his bedroom was flung open, and his cousin, Maribeth, charged into the room. She shut them inside, and Richard wondered at the crease between her black brows.

“How was your day?” Maribeth asked, taking a seat next to him on the Victorian-style chaise. Her sweatshirt slipped off her shoulder, revealing the gorgeous tattoo sleeve she’d had inked as soon as she hit her eighteenth birthday.

“Busy, yours?”

“I accomplished a lot.”

“Great,” Richard enthused. Shortly before Eric was kidnapped by Maribeth’s father, she’d quit her job and wanted a change of career. However, the trauma of her ordeal had stalled things, and Richard hated watching her flounder. Maribeth was normally confident, but her ego had taken a large, unwarranted hit. Perhaps she was finally finding some light in the darkness. Nothing could have pleased Richard more.

“Yeah,” Maribeth replied, her brown gaze landing on his face. He wasn’t sure what to make of her intense, serious expression. “We need to talk.”

“Sure, Mari, you know I’m always here for you.”

Maribeth rested her head on his shoulder. “I know. We’ve been inseparable our entire lives. You’re the best friend anyone could have.”

“Same goes. So, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Richard, there’s no easy way to tell you this. I’m moving out.”

Her relocation into the family home was relatively recent, and Richard had loved having her there permanently. But she’d lived alone most of her adult life. “Is being with the family constantly too much? Mom means well, you know that. Tell her to stop badgering you if she’s bombarding you with questions.”

“Everyone has let me deal with this whole situation without bothering me,” Maribeth said, taking Richard’s hand and squeezing it affectionately. “I know it’s driving you crazy that I haven’t talked about my feelings. You have to control everything, and one of your greatest skills is managing people, but I’ve needed to handle this alone.”

“Nothing about what your father did is your fault. Fuck, Mari, you took a damn bullet for Eric. You could’ve died. You’re a fucking hero.”

“I don’t want to get into all this, but I was in the damn house. How didn’t I know what my father was planning? How many hours was Eric locked in that room before I found him? What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been so damn nosy? Eric would be dead, Richard. Our sweet Eric who has spent his entire life doing nothing but helping spirits cross.”

“It was your father’s choice to have Eric kidnapped. He didn’t pull you into his plot because he knew you wouldn’t go along with it. Mari, you can’t keep—”

“Richard, I’m not here to talk about that,” Maribeth interrupted. Although Richard had plenty to say on the subject, he respected Maribeth too much to argue with her. So, he buttoned his lips and told himself to be a good listener. Someday, they’d get through to Maribeth and she’d forgive herself for her father’s evil actions. “I’m moving out. In fact, I’m leaving tomorrow. There’s a condo in New York waiting for me.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “New York? But that’s on the other side of the country. Have you told Mom and Dad? How will you be safe so far away? Gabriel will be here. He runs security. Does he know?”

“Rosalind and Clark don’t approve, but whether they like it or not, I’m an adult. I can’t spend my life asking for permission. I’ll be fine. Of course Clark and Rosalind know, they set up my living situation. Yes, Gabriel knows too, and I’ll be safe. I need a fresh start. I want to try something new. Maybe I’ll go back to school.”

The stubborn tilt to her chin told Richard that Maribeth wouldn’t be persuaded to change her course. His heart sank. What would he do with his best friend so far away? It wasn’t a question he’d ask her. The most important thing wasn’t how it affected him; her feelings were what mattered.

“If this is what you want, then you know you have my support,” Richard said, though he hated the thought of her gone. She was his biggest confidante and the person he spent the most time with. And he hated her pain. Her head was a mess, and she’d be alone.

“I love you, Richard.”

“I love you too. Promise you’ll keep in touch.”

“Of course. We’re family.”

“And you’ll be safe,” Richard said, desperately needing some reassurance from Maribeth.

“I will. The last thing I want is danger in my life.”

Richard swallowed heavily to get past the lump in his throat and promised himself he’d have a good cry later. He refused to have Maribeth mop up his tears. She had enough on her plate. “I need you to make me one more promise.”

“Okay, what?”

“Since Eric was kidnapped, you haven’t gone to a club or ventured on a single date. You were the only one of us with enough bravery to put yourself out there constantly to find the woman meant for you. I don’t want you to be alone forever. Get back out there. Promise me.”

Maribeth smiled, and Richard relaxed slightly. Some of her usual verve was in the sly curve of her lips. “I’ve already been looking into the hot spots. I’ve taken a big enough break from trying to find my soulmate. But if I’m making you this vow, then you need to do better too.”

“Mari, you know how I feel about this. I don’t want a soulmate. It’s not a big deal. I suck at choosing partners, and I’m not dealing with any more vapid men with pretty faces.”

“Richard.”

“What?”

“I can’t enjoy my life fully if I’m worried about you sitting in this mansion by yourself forever.”

Richard smirked. “That sounds like a you problem, Mari.”

“Can’t you try a little? Date or drag Douglas to the club at the casino?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Which means no.”

“I have a wedding to plan,” Richard said, shooting for a subject change.

Maribeth’s mouth tightened, but they’d argued plenty in recent years about Richard’s desire to stay single. He refused to budge. Not even for Maribeth.

“How did the meeting go today?”

“How do you think? We were about thirty seconds in, and both Eric and Gabriel had glazed-over looks. I lost count of how many times Gabriel checked his watch. They wanted out of the room. Mom and I talked afterward. We’ll narrow the choices down to two or three and let them choose from there. They’ll fucking elope if we don’t step in and push things along. They like things simple and classic. I want it to suit them, so it will. Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?”

“It’s overdue, Richard,” Maribeth said softly. “I’ve been putting it off because I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but this is what I want.”

“Then I’m happy for you,” Richard managed, though his spirit was crushed. He’d miss her terribly, and he hoped that being away from everyone wouldn’t dig her scars deeper into her soul.

???

Luke didn’t know what the hell he was doing. That morning, he’d called the number Foxe had picked up from some random necromancer, and to Luke’s horror, the man had told the truth. It was answered by a kind inspirit who asked only pertinent questions and insisted Luke venture to the largest Marwood property in Vegas immediately so they could get him settled.

With a hug and a promise to call him later, Luke had dropped Foxe off at a small casino off the strip and driven to an absurdly gorgeous casino dramatically decorated in black and white. He wondered if any of the humans wandering through the glass doors knew that black traditionally represented necromancers and white was the color chosen for inspirits.

Supposedly they’d discovered that because of soulmates, but Luke was skeptical. He was also dawdling because he was scared shitless. His palms were sweaty. His heart was racing. And what he wanted most was to call Foxe and tell him the mission had failed. They could meet up somewhere and put together another plan.

Foxe didn’t have a way to get around yet or any money, so he required help. Luke refused to let him down, so he set aside his escape plans and gathered his wavering confidence.

Luke walked through a shiny silver-trimmed door, and his mouth nearly dropped open. The lobby was as dramatic as the outside. The floors were tiled, and a giant trio of chandeliers filled the lobby with slightly sparkly light thanks to the crystal teardrops dangling from the fixtures. A long black desk of ornate dark wood was manned by several people—many of whom Luke’s senses quickly identified as inspirits.

It was early in the morning, so few people were checking in or out. That gave Luke plenty of options, but he headed for the closest inspirit.

“Good morning, how can I help you?” the inspirit asked kindly.

“Hi, my name is Lucas Wynnter. I have an appointment; I called this morning. They didn’t tell me anything else. Just—”

The inspirit smiled. “It’s okay, Mr. Wynnter, we’re expecting you. I’ll call Gabe. Do you need anything right now? A beverage or something to eat?”

Taken aback by his friendliness and immediate offer of assistance, Luke shook his head. He wasn’t sure who Gabe was, but apparently that was who he was meeting.

“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Of course. If I can help you with anything, let me know. It might take Gabe a few minutes, I’m not sure where he is right now. You can have a seat if you like.”

“There’s no rush,” Luke assured the inspirit. He took the man’s advice to heart and headed past the carved wooden desk. Luke parked his ass on a curved couch and listened to the faint sound of slot machines coming from the casino. That was at least a familiar noise, and since Foxe didn’t bother with the machines, Luke could appreciate the melodic chimes without them triggering any memories of rapid escapes from motels or the guilt in his necromancer’s eyes.

Luke sat for countless minutes with his small duffel containing his few possessions between his feet as he watched people come and go. His attention was drawn to the front door as a sleek black town car pulled up to the front of the casino. It was difficult to see much through the two rows of doors, but a tall man emerged.

He entered the casino at a swift clip. The blond had broad shoulders, and Luke wondered how the fuck an inspirit got so jacked. He locked his gaze on Luke and charged toward him. Luke gulped and unconsciously rose to his feet. A second tingle of information struck Luke. For a second, he didn’t know what it meant. He wasn’t around inspirits and necromancers often.

But his brain screamed out that it was the soulmate connection. Whoever this man was, his soul had bonded fully with another. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he could trust his own senses.

“Mr. Wynnter?” the man asked, his voice curt.

“Yes.”

Something changed in his green eyes, and a hint of friendliness peeked through his steely gaze. “Hi, I’m Gabe Wolfebrier.”

“Lucas Wynnter. Everyone calls me Luke,” he babbled.

“I apologize, but we’ve had to shuffle things around a bit this morning. Do you mind waiting here with me for a couple of minutes?”

“No problem.”

Luke wasn’t sure what they were waiting for, but a few seconds later, a stunning woman with dark skin and pretty braids charged into the lobby. She wore a flowing purple-and-white dress with heeled sandals. The inspirit headed straight for the sitting area where Luke and Gabe stood.

“Rhonda, you didn’t have to rush,” Gabe chided.

“Nonsense.” She turned to Luke and smiled brightly. “Hi, I’m Rhonda Donovan. Don’t let Gabe intimidate you, he’s really a big teddy bear.”

Gabe snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Luke shook her offered hand and couldn’t imagine Gabe as the snuggly kind, but his heart was also still hammering in his chest thanks to his nerves.

“I’m Luke Wynnter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Welcome to the Marwood family,” Rhonda replied. “I need to head outside or Gabe will bitch at me for keeping Eric waiting, but we’ll talk later.”

Without a clue what she was talking about, Luke nodded and smiled like a dolt. At least her sunny presence left him with the impression that the Marwoods were friendly.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to meet Clark Marwood,” Gabe said. “He owns all this.”

Swallowing to dislodge the thick lump in his throat, Luke once again bobbed his head. He hadn’t expected to meet the owner, and he hoped to hell he could fool these people. Luke was counting on some latent acting skills to convince everyone he’d been abandoned. If that didn’t work, he was about to be tossed out on his ass.

How could he explain that kind of failure to Foxe?