3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

M isty

It's dawn, and I'm sitting on the front steps, my suitcase packed, as I wait for someone, anyone, to drive by. I'll flag them down, play on their sympathy if necessary, and beg, borrow, or steal my way into town since I still have no signal. From there, I'll book a ticket back to Earth, and this little jaunt will be nothing more than a terrifying memory that robbed me of all my savings and convinced me ghosts are real.

Counting myself lucky to be alive, I control my irritation that not a single vehicle has hovered by all night in the long, dark, cold hours I've been waiting out front.

Looking down, I'm surprised my fingers aren't still trembling in fright after last night's visitation. I've been conducting an inner debate for hours, trying to convince myself I wasn't haunted by a ghost.

I still believe the noises, clanking, and moans weren't produced by the little teal creature I saw standing in the kitchen as I left in the middle of the night. Far from being intimidating, he looked at me with big, hungry eyes as if he were waiting for scraps.

A thousand times last night I tried to convince myself the mist-creature in my bedroom wasn't real. If only one thing had happened, I could explain it away, but when you add them all together—the mist, the moans, the door shutting over and over, and the threat to "get out"—I don't think I overreacted.

My thoughts are thankfully pulled from last night's perilous experience when a blue hover-truck turns onto Zo'rel Place. I practically sprain my ankle sprinting to the edge of the sidewalk, waving my arms to catch the driver's attention.

Wow. I know I should keep my mind on job number one, which is to get to town and book a flight out, but I'm literally struck dumb when I lean close to the passenger side window to speak to the driver.

I still can't tell a Frain from a Vucillian, but whatever species this guy is, he has to be the most handsome male in the galaxy. Shimmering green skin, long black hair, sparkling white fangs, sexy retractable claws, and features gorgeous enough to make the statue of David jealous.

When he rolls down the window, I finally untie my tongue and ask if he can take me to town.

"Why didn't you comm for a hover taxi?"

When I look at my comm, there's a signal. Did the ghost's presence somehow block my signal all night? I shake my head as another shiver runs down my back.

"My comm must be glitching. It wasn't working until this very minute."

A look of confusion crosses his face, then he asks why I'm here. One thing leads to another as I tell him my story. Well, not the part about the ghost visitation, but the rest of it.

His face turns to granite. He's completely inscrutable until I finish talking.

The logo of a hammer and a house on the hover door I'm leaning against, as well as the lumber in the back of his truck, are dead giveaways the guy is in construction .

I must have lost my mind somewhere between the "whooooo, whooooo" and the "get out of my house," because I'm seriously trying to convince myself it would be a bad idea to ask this guy how much it might cost to renovate the inn.

I'm having such a loud argument in my head, I'm surprised he can't hear it. Finally, I justify my decision by making it all about safety. Instead of just hopping in the truck with a possible serial murderer, I'll spend a bit more time with him as I show him the inn and get a ballpark figure of what it would cost to fix up. Not that I'm going to renovate, mind you, just to get a better feel for his character before I hover to town with him.

Who am I kidding? It also gives me time to be within staring distance of a male whose profile is only surpassed by his full-frontal gorgeousness.

We exchange names between the hover and the front door, then Zylus and I begin the quick tour. He does little more than glance into each room and make perfunctory comments along with little tongue clucks when we see something that has aged badly—which is everything.

"So? How much do you think it would take to fix her up?" I ask as we climb into his hover.

"It depends on what materials and finishes you choose," he hedges.

"Just an estimate so I can see how much I'd need to borrow." Did I really say that? As if I'm planning on waltzing into a bank and asking for a loan. Before I question my sanity, I add, "Be sure to include remodeling the gazebo. The thing is practically in ruins, but it could be so lovely when it's returned to its original glory. That was the part of the ad that lured me into raiding my savings to enter the drawing."

"As we went from one problem to another on the tour, I thought you were giving up on the project." He spears me with a questioning gaze, one eyebrow hiked high on his forehead.

I shrug. "Well, as long as you inspected it, I'd be interested to know how much it would take to fix her up. "

He tosses his head from side to side as he gives it long moments of thought. "It's a wild estimate, not to be taken seriously," he hedges. "I'd say 250,000 to 300,000 credits. That's if you don't go crazy with materials."

"Wow!"

I'm silent the rest of the ride into Arixxia Fields. What a letdown to go from thinking I'd won the perfect B&B to realizing I'll need to pump over a quarter of a million credits into it just to make it habitable.

As we drive, I use my now-functioning comm to check into a ticket back to Earth, only to find there's no way out of town until tomorrow.

A thought has been nagging at the back of my mind since my handsome companion said the words "300,000 credits." I'm here. I have at least a day until I can leave town. Why don't I hit up a few banks to see if I qualify for a loan?

The property may be down-at-the-heels, but it's got to be worth something as collateral, right? Even if it's just the land itself?

When I ask Zylus to drop me at First Bank of Arixxia Fields, he balks.

"I thought you were giving up on her."

"Yeah." I shrug. "But now that you've given me a ballpark number for renovation, I might as well see if it's doable."