1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

W alking through the double doors of Blackhaven Manor, Owen Zhas came to an abrupt stop with his mouth gaping open. He had been to the castle only a few months previously, and it had looked exactly what he expected a hotel to look like. Now…he didn't know what the hell he was looking at.

He gripped the handle of his rolling suitcase and glanced over his shoulder toward the open doors. Birds chirped from nearby trees, serenading the small town of Echo Falls, Colorado, while the morning sun bathed the stone portico in golden light.

Rather than spilling into the lobby, though, the sunlight stopped abruptly at the threshold. In fact, no natural light penetrated the gloom at all. The cavernous space was instead illuminated by thousands of black tapered candles floating about twenty feet off the ground.

And he meant "ground."

The marbled tiles he remembered had been replaced by thick, blue-black grass that grew directly up from the floor and licked at his ankles. Gnarled, leafless trees stretched toward the high ceilings, their twisted limbs creating a spooky canopy over the worn dirt paths that led to different points of the room.

Hundreds of carved pumpkins surrounded the black trunks and smiled creepily from the corners of the lobby. A smokeless campfire had been erected where the sitting area had once been, and the squash sofas had been swapped with cut logs and bales of hay.

It was a scene straight out of a Halloween movie, made even eerier by the thin layer of fog that slithered through the room.

While wondrous, and frankly, astonishing, the extraordinary display could also prove to be a problem. These days, he exerted a lot of effort to avoid all types of magic at any cost.

Goddess, what had he been thinking by coming back here?

His last trip to Blackhaven Manor had ended in unmitigated disaster, and honestly, the pity of the staff had been the only reason he had avoided arrest. Not that he had hexed a trio of people on purpose, but he wouldn't have blamed security for locking him away after the chaos he'd caused.

Even more embarrassing was that one of his victims happened to be none other than his favorite drama star, Storm Black. Apart from a few members of the hotel staff, no one else knew about it, but Owen would never forget it. He had been fortunate that everyone had been understanding and sympathetic, but the incident had really driven home just how out of control his life had become.

At eighteen, he had been looking forward to embracing his new freedom and starting university as a graphic design major. After what had happened during the summer, however, plans had changed, and he had abruptly decided to take a gap year. Not because he wanted to travel the world, but because he had to figure out how to live on campus and attend his classes without causing mayhem wherever he went.

Being an accipere , a syphon, he hadn't been born with magic of his own. Instead, he stole it from others. Not intentionally, of course. He just had no idea how to control his abilities. A simple handshake was all it took to trigger the transfer, and while it had always been a problem, things had drastically amped up since his last birthday.

Now, all he had to do was accidentally brush against a magic user to syphon from them, and he seemed to be absorbing a lot more energy these days. Which in and of itself didn't present a huge issue since he never took enough to hurt anyone. Hell, most of the time, they didn't even notice.

The problem came afterwards because the magic he took had to go somewhere, and that was when the really bad stuff happened. Like him accidentally cursing unsuspecting Otherlings with selective amnesia.

Although apprehensive about stepping foot inside Blackhaven Manor again, he hadn't been able to pass up the opportunity. Partly because the Haunted Halloween Spooktacular would surely be one of the most spectacular parties of the year. Mostly, however, he had come because when Skye Maddock issued a personal invitation, one did not refuse.

The cream-colored envelope had arrived the first week of October, and to say he had been confused would be an understatement. At first, he had considered that it might be a mistake. Naturally, he knew of Skye Maddock, but how did the dragon shifter know him?

The obvious answer was that she had heard about his past crimes. He had a feeling little went on at her hotel that the female didn't know about. In that case, though, it still didn't explain why she would want him to return.

So, he'd stuck the invitation into his nightstand drawer and forgotten about it until a week later, when he had received a personal phone call from the female herself. He'd spent most of the short conversation trying desperately not to hyperventilate or pass out, but he'd gotten the gist. Apparently, she had indeed heard about what had happened during his last visit, but rather than being angry, she wanted to apologize.

To him.

For his mistake.

It hadn't made a damn bit of sense, and he'd been even more bewildered when she had offered to make up for the "inconvenience." When he had attempted to explain that it had been entirely his fault, she had interrupted, requesting he attend the event as her personal guest, all expenses paid.

How the hell did he say no to that? No one could.

And that was how he had ended up in a haunted forest that had once looked like a typical hotel lobby. Only time would tell if the decision would be a horrible error in judgment on his part or not.

Hitching his backup higher on his shoulder, he wheeled his suitcase behind him as he approached the check-in counter and gave his name. A part of him worried it had all been a joke, and that the receptionist wouldn't be able to find him in the system.

Thankfully, seconds later, the female smiled and passed a brass key with a leather tag across the counter. "Welcome to Blackhaven Manor, Mr. Zhas. You're in Cabin 7, down by the lake. Do you need someone to show you to your room?"

Owen sighed in relief. Knowing that he could retreat to the relative privacy of a cabin if things became too much made him feel a lot better about this adventure. "No, thank you. I'm sure I can find my way."

"Excellent. You can leave your luggage here, and someone will deliver it shortly." Her long nails clacked against the keyboard as she typed, and a moment later, a drawer opened in the center of the desk. Removing a slim piece of plastic, she passed it through a reader, then handed it to him. "You can use this anywhere in the hotel to make purchases, but it won't work at vendor stalls."

"I understand. Thank you." It looked like a gold credit card with a black stripe on one side, and VIP printed in block letters on the other.

"But all the events are free to attend," interjected a quiet, musical voice.

Turning his head, it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to jerk back when he found a tall, beautiful woman standing mere inches from him. Dressed in a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her curves, Skye Maddock had traded in her signature golden curls for pin-straight tresses of ebony.

"I like your hair," he blurted.

Her bright smile didn't match her otherwise dark appearance, but it did make her seem more approachable.

"Thank you," she said with a slight shrug. "It seemed appropriate." Her Barbie blue eyes strayed to the top of his head. "I like what you've done with yours as well."

"Oh, uh…" He dragged his fingers through his short platinum locks self-consciously. "Thanks."

After the "incident," he'd felt the need to keep a low profile and avoid drawing attention to himself. So, he'd shaved his neon pink mohawk and allowed his natural white-blond locks to grow back. Since then, he'd kept his hair short, and he'd toned down how he dressed, sticking mostly to jeans and T-shirts.

"Have you decided what you want to do first?"

Honestly, he hadn't given it much thought. In fact, he didn't even know what was on the schedule for the festival.

"Not yet. I thought I'd check out my room, then maybe find something to eat." It had been a fairly short trip from Arizona, but he'd been so nervous that he'd skipped breakfast. "I really can't thank you enough for inviting me." He held up the gold card awkwardly. "And this."

"I assure you, it's my pleasure."

She reached out, presumably to touch his arm, but he retreated with an apologetic smile. He didn't know if the female used magic, but he knew she possessed it in some form. There had even been a rumor a few years ago that a vampire had quite literally lost his mind after consuming a single vial of her blood.

If she found offense in his rejection, she didn't show it. Instead, she folded her hands together at her waist and smiled.

"I'll leave you to get settled in, then. Enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to let us know."

Owen thanked her again and watched her disappear through a doorway behind the row of registration desks. Deciding that had been enough socializing for the time being, he pocketed the VIP card and turned back to the receptionist.

"Can you point me toward the right door to get to my cabin?"

Before she could answer, a petite male dressed in the hotel's uniform appeared at his side.

"I can show you."

Owen tensed. He couldn't remember the guy's name, but he distinctly remembered him. Dark curls, tawny skin, amber eyes, and the face of an angel, the male had been a key player in resolving Owen's accidental hex.

Damn, he'd really been hoping to avoid that entire group. Especially the scary security guard. Either he had the worst luck in the world, or fate had a twisted sense of humor.

"I'm Arlo. We met back when—"

"I remember."

A knowing smile tilted one side of his mouth, but he didn't press the issue. "This way. I'll show you to your cabin."

Well, at least he didn't look pissed. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem. So, how's college going? Are you majoring in graphic design like you wanted?"

He remembered that? Damn, now Owen felt bad that he had forgotten his name. "Actually, I decided to take a gap year. I need to figure out…stuff."

Arlo led him past a wide, curving staircase and into a vast hallway filled with music and conversation. The last time he had visited the hotel, it had been closed for the filming of a new drama, and therefore, had been nearly empty. Now, it seemed every manner of Otherling imaginable filled the available space.

Gods, it was overwhelming.

"Yeah, I get that. So, how's it going with that stuff ?"

"Not great," he answered honestly.

"Ah, dude, that sucks. Maybe somewhere here can help. I'll ask around."

Owen stopped abruptly and spun to face his guide. "No!" He cleared his throat and took a step back. "I mean, um, you don't need to do that."

"Don't stress. It's no problem." Arlo beamed and continued down the hallway. "I bet there's at least one person here who knows about ass-pears."

" Accipere ," Owen corrected, but he had a hard time not laughing. It wasn't the first time the guy had mispronounced the word, and he got the distinct impression he did it on purpose.

"Right. That." At the end of the corridor, he exited through a large door and hung a left, leading him across a manicured lawn. "I have to ask, though, why didn't your parents teach you about this stuff?"

Owen squinted as the sunlight glared off the lenses of his black-framed glasses. After the dark atmosphere of the castle, the morning now felt unusually bright, almost painful.

"Well, both of my parents are human." He didn't find offense in the question, but he wanted to make it clear that his parents weren't negligent people who didn't care about him.

"Really? Like, completely human?"

Owen nodded.

"And no one else in your family is paranormal?"

This time, he shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Man, that's rough. Does that happen a lot?"

"You're asking me? I learned what I was from the internet."

Arlo laughed, a high-pitched, melodious sound that practically sparkled. "Okay, fair point. Don't worry, though. We'll get you sorted out." Approaching a row of small cabins with covered porches, he pointed toward the one on the end. "Here we are."

Nestled along the tree line of the forest, the private cabins sat atop a hill that overlooked the lake below. The view was absolutely stunning, and the tiny gourds decorating the steps provided a cute touch for autumn.

"I better get back to work." Arlo tucked his hands into his pockets and shuffled backwards. "I'll let you know if I find someone who can help you. In the meantime, just try not to touch anyone."

Again, Owen couldn't even be offended. "That's the plan. Thanks for the assist."

"Anytime, bro." With that, he gave a little wave, turned, and jogged back toward the castle.

Owen took a moment to appreciate the quiet peacefulness of the morning before continuing on to his temporary lodgings. It didn't surprise him at all to find that the inside of his cabin looked just as adorable as the outside. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space, but it also offered a small dining table, a dresser, and a flat-screen television.

While certainly small, it was more than enough for him.

Dumping his backpack on top of the dresser, he flopped back on the bed and stretched his arms over his head. So far, things had gone much better than he'd had any right to expect. Even Arlo had been nice to him. He still didn't know how he felt about asking a total stranger to help him, but it might be his last hope.

So, just maybe, the trip wouldn't suck after all.