Page 3 of Safe in Shadow (Pine Ridge Universe #22)

G race piled her fluffy (okay, unmanageable) tangle of hair into a massive poof on the top of her head. Her sneakers were on. Her favorite jeans were clinging to her hips. Her Antonia College tee clung to her back, damp with sweat, even though it was a chilly May morning in the mountains.

“Let’s do this!” She clapped her hands together, savoring the leather-on-leather sound of work gloves. That was the noise of kickass female entrepreneurs about to launch their dreams.

Beedle-boop-beedle-boop-beedle-beedle-beedle.

Grace groaned. That was the noise of her mother, calling to question her life decisions.

“Hi, Mom.”

As she often did, her mother began the conversation in full flow, as if Grace had been there from the beginning.

“But what I don’t understand is where you got all the money.

The lawyer said you only got thirty thousand, and Uncle Chuck says to get that house up to code would have taken at least a quarter of a million.

He said only government contractors get grants. ”

“Uncle Chuck is wrong, and I took an online course in grant writing last summer while I was home taking care of Nana. I already got three grants for her retirement community last year, Mom. Money is out there if you have the right reasons and documentation. Like, Hilltop House was built in the 1890s and was a home for wounded soldiers after World War I and World War II. That’s worth historical preservation, right?

The library is going to be the jewel of this place.

I can’t imagine why no one has tried to do anything with it before now.

Okay, I’ve got a rental truck to unload. ”

“By yourself?”

“I wasn’t going to ask you and Dad.”

“Well! I’m offended. Why not?”

“Because every time I talk to Dad, he has a fit about how Kimmy and Casey didn’t get more than five thousand dollars and their pick of Nana’s jewelry,” Grace grunted and flung up the metal door of the moving truck.

It rolled with a clicking clack to the top and bounced up with a bang that made her jump—even though she was expecting it.

No need to be jumpy. This is good stress. New adventure. Yep.

“Your brother said he might help.”

“Casey? Casey will be glued to his gaming chair or his girlfriend on a Saturday morning at eight. I’m not counting on it, Mom.”

Even the slightest hint of a critique of Casey made her mother’s hackles rise. No one criticized her baby boy. “You and Nana were always hardest on him because he was the baby.”

“Mom... We were hard on him because he came to stay with us for one weekend, made pot brownies, ate the whole pan, and then threw up on Mrs. Yerchenko’s cat.”

“He was only sixteen! That was three years ago!”

“Right. So if he shows up... Oh. He’s showing up. And he has Princess Moonflower with him.” Grace winced as her brother’s car peeled up the newly poured gravel driveway, the loud muffler backfiring as he gunned the engine.

“Grace! Her name is Daffodil, and she’s a very sweet girl.”

“I know, I know. Gotta go, Mom. Love you. Love Daddy.”

Despite her brother’s lazy streak and her mother’s attempts to spoil him, Casey wasn’t a bad guy, and he was the only one who didn’t seem to care how she spent her money. Of course, Casey was also going to college in Pittsburgh and rarely came home.

“Oh my God!” Daffodil stepped out of the car, phone already filming. “Grace, this place is lit ! It’s like a castle.”

“It’s Victorian architecture. The entire exterior will have to be redone, and it needs a new roof. But one thing at a time.”

“I got your text about moving in. Came to lend you my muscles.” Casey rose from the low seat of his sports car and flexed his biceps.

“You’ve abandoned pot and playing video games for bodybuilding?”

“Daffodil’s got me on a holistic health program. I’m in the best shape of my life.”

“You’re also only nineteen!”

“Do you want me to help you carry a couch or not?”

Grace grinned and hugged her little brother. “You both look amazing. Pizza’s on me.”

GRACE UNLOCKED THE door with a feeling that something momentous was about to happen. This was going to be awe-inspiring and astounding.

Before buying the place and twice since purchasing it, Grace had visited Hilltop. Funny how it had always caught her eye, speaking to some part of her that liked to take impossible situations and make them better. The beautiful old place was calling out to be rescued.

I’m here, she thought silently, pushing open the creaking wooden door.

A sense of desperation and grief hit her so hard it almost sent her back onto the porch, but Casey and Daffodil, squealing like toddlers, carried her in their wake as they pushed past, phones up to their faces as they filmed.

This isn’t right. Grace stood rooted to the floor in the echoing entryway, body stiff with shock.

The house was painted and smelled like chemicals and sawdust. She knew the county had worked fast because they didn’t want the liability and expense of Hilltop any longer. The basics were done. It was “livable” (barely), and now the rest was up to her.

Maybe that's why I'm not excited. Maybe that's why I just feel like something's wrong. Like I made a terrible mistake. It's just buyer's remorse. Happens to everyone. The bigger the buy, the worse the remorse.

No wonder I feel like I can’t breathe.

I need to snap out of it. It’s mine. Can’t go back, only forward.

“This is going to be a hotel? It’s so far from anything!” Daffodil waltzed back through, Casey plastered to her hips, fingers through her belt loops.

“That’s the point. Get away from it all. Nature. Scenery. Romance.” Grace answered while her eyes traveled around the high ceilings of the main room. “There’s a little town a few miles away.

“Let’s go up the fancy staircase!” Daffodil squealed, dragging Casey behind her. “Get pictures of me leading you up the stairs, okay, babe? Does my hair look gorgeous?”

“Furniture! Moving? Anyone...?” Grace closed her eyes.

So much for help.

Well, Nana did a lot on her own without G-Pop. I can do it, too. She turned slowly, eyes panning around the room.

The reception area can go right here.

Twelve bedrooms. Only three bathrooms, though.

I guess that'll be the first project. How am I going to pay for this?

All the furniture is going to have to be dirt cheap.

I might as well buy a moving truck. I'm going to spend the rest of my life going to flea markets and yard sales to look for bedroom furniture and couches. But they need to fit the decor.

Look at me. I have a hotel. I have “decor.” Well, I will.

I need to marry a contractor. Or a plumber.

An electrician, maybe? At least the building is up to code—bare minimum.

This is a historical building, so the code is “relaxed,” anyway.

But it’s not ready to open. If it’s not ready to open, then it can’t turn a profit. It can’t even pay the minimum payments.

I'm going to have to get a part-time job if I can't get this place fixed up and habitable in a couple of months.

Grace already knew all of the hard truths she was pondering.

She understood the harsh realities of home ownership and starting a business, especially a hospitality-based business.

The scary facts and figures were written down on endless spreadsheets, grants, and proposals on her sticker-covered laptop.

“Well. I’m sticking it out,” Grace murmured aloud.

To her left, a door slammed and made her teeth rattle.

“Casey!” she bellowed, “Take it easy. This place is ancient!”

“I didn't do anything!” Casey protested.

Grace rolled her eyes. That was just like her brother. He never accepted responsibility for his actions.

“Well, don’t slam any other doors! You’ll chip the paint, and I can’t afford any repairs right now.”

Casey and Daffodil trotted down the stairs.

Grace’s brows drew together. Wait. They were upstairs. I could have sworn the door slammed just down the hall from me.

“You’re loaded. Aren’t you?” Daffodil cocked her head, puzzled.

“No. I’m just a good grant writer, this place was cheap and about to be demolished, and I have the furniture from Nana and G-Pop’s old house from storage. There’s nothing ‘loaded’ around except that moving truck— that we need to unload ,” Grace said pointedly.

“I bet I could have this place packed by tomorrow if I post about it on my channel—especially if I mention it’s haunted.”

“It’s not haunted! Good God, that’s all I need.” Grace clapped a hand to her forehead.

“Well, we know that, but other people won’t!” Casey smirked. “There are big bucks in scary shit.”

“One, I don’t want a bunch of paranormal patrollers with their spook-o-meters running through my B&B.

Two, there’s no furniture here except for what’s in that moving truck, a few pieces in the library and sunroom, and a few solid pieces upstairs that would survive Armageddon.

That means I can’t open up. You can’t have a bed-and-breakfast without the bed part.

No guests. Just work. Hours and hours of work to get ready and hope I didn’t just waste all of Nana’s money—most of which she earned because of me, by the way, when I pulled it out of G-Pop’s defunct pension account, where it was earning like ten bucks a year in interest, and got it in some really good tech stocks!

” Grace clenched her teeth and her fists to stop from screaming.

Or crying. Possibly screaming while crying.

“Yeah. I thought you were crazy to do this, too.” Casey shrugged.

I’m going to crack a filling. Grace slowly unlocked her clenched jaw.

“This could all go belly up. You have no experience. Mom was saying you should at least try working in a hotel before you open one. Dad says you’re going to end up back home working as the overnight manager at the Sleep Tite Motel in six months.”

Oh, hell no. Not after I became the unofficial super of Nana’s building while going to college and learning the stock market.

Grace started counting to ten, made it to four, and then unleashed a yowl of pure familial frustration. “Arghh! Go! Now. Carry stuff. Just put everything on the first floor for now. I don’t want you trying to carry something upstairs and crashing through the antique banister.”

NYX PAUSED AS HE HOVERED in the darkness of the downstairs hall. The sun shone brightly outside. He was wondering when the human visitors (interlopers) would realize that they couldn’t force their lights into his domain. Wherever he was, it was always dark.

He was preparing to slam another door—but he stopped.

They were good entertainment, these three. The young couple that raced around with screens over their faces were mere gnats, an annoyance he wouldn’t bother to swat. But the blonde with her wild, tangled bun and her resolute chin... He liked watching her.

His cold frame started to run hot as she unbound her hair, shook it out, and combed her fingers through it as she arched her back in a tension-releasing stretch.

He liked watching her ever so much.

So, he wasn’t evil.

No one said he was good . If he were good, he wouldn’t be stuck here, in this strange, shadowy limbo, torn between human, spirit, and demon, what he now believed was referred to as a Shade.

Like a soul three naughty children had fought over and ripped three ways before clumsily pasting him back together.

“Are you sleeping down here?” Daffodil asked as she came back into the house, carrying a boxy black television.

“No, there’s one room upstairs that's in pristine condition. It has a gorgeous old brass bed and a mahogany wardrobe. I’ll haul the mattress up later—myself.”

Nyx’s darkness took on a fiery glint at its heart.

It has been a long, long time since he watched a woman. The nurses who attended the men broken in their minds were often pretty little things with nice legs in their short calf-length skirts. He never interfered with them.

Then again—those women had never slept in his room. One had never decided to sleep right over his portal between worlds, placing herself like a tempting morsel for one very dangerous monster under the bed.