area, making my heart skip about five beats. Slone dropped the cases of beer on the ground and zipped out of the door, before I could even take a step forward. I ran to the front and came to a jolting stop behind the bar.
Slone was standing in the middle of a group of high-top tables. A wild-eyed man was hanging from Slone’s balled-up fist, the tips of his shoes barely touching the ground. An infuriated woman wearing a pink t-shirt, sweats, and white sneakers was standing in front of them, shaking her fists and screaming. The lady’s entire form wavered, and I quickly realized that I was the only one in the bar who could see or hear the profanities flooding from her transparent mouth.
“Someone needs to go wake up Devil, like now. We have a big problem,” Ward, the human bar-back, announced from across the room.
I ran past Slone, who seemed to have whatever she was doing handled for the time being. I opened the back door and then quickly closed it.
“Shit.”
Ward nodded and said, “They all pulled up a few minutes ago, just as I was coming back in from taking out the trash.”
My eyes flashed over to the ghost.
“I’m pretty sure they’re here to investigate a murder.”
Ward’s face went slack, as he asked, “What makes you think that?”
“Let’s just say I have a hunch.”
I didn’t come right out and tell him that we had a new ghost haunting the guy Slone was manhandling. Everyone there knew I was a necromancer, but still, I didn’t like to go around advertising it.
“I’ll go get the boss man.”
***
I moved the velvet rope, which was draped across the entryway that led to the section of the building where all the slot machines were housed. That part of the club was closed to the public between 6:00 in the morning and 4:00 in the afternoon.
As I walked across the gaudy casino-themed carpet and into the cordoned-off room, lights flashed in my eyes from the machines, and enticing pings and dings rang in my ears. I veered to the right, following a pathway that lay narrowly in between two rows of machines, until I came to the last one.
When I first started working at Devil’s Playground , Rafe—my vampire creation—had given me a keychain filled with keys to the bar. There was one each for the front and back doors, bathrooms, the upstairs living quarters, and a special secret key that granted the holder access to the VIP rooms in the catacombs.
I pulled that secret key from my pocket and lifted the permanent Out of Order sign that covered the coin slot. I flipped the slot mechanism back, slipped the key in, and turned. I heard a rush of air expel from behind the slot machine, before I swung it open. The fake machine clicked closed behind me, as I began to jog down the stairs.
It seemed like every time I turned around, there was another set of stairs for me to descend, ones that would inevitably lead me into a pit of beautiful but potentially deadly or devious creatures. It was the damndest thing, how there always seemed to be more of them to fight, or in recent cases, care for and love. That fact made me seriously wonder about all previous decisions I’d made that led me there… to Devil’s Playground . I was living a life full of unpredictability. But if I were being honest with myself, I’d have to admit that the allure was exciting and kind of cool.
The stairwell opened into a wide hallway. A set of equally large passages were on both the left and right of me. I could hear music playing down the one on the left, a sure sign that at least one of the rooms was occupied. And whoever was bunking in there for the day had the door wide open, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to hear anything through the soundproof walls.
I walked forward, passing all four gaping arches, and headed toward a large door at the end of the hall. As soon as I got two feet from it, a camera secured in a steel box that hung from the ceiling clicked on, and a red beam of light hit me square in the