Hiya! I’m here as Holly today 😊 A couple of days ago, The Death God was released, so I thought I’d pop over here and share the first chapter.   

Now, this is the sequel to Rufus the Dead, and I strongly suggest you read it first. In Rufus the Dead, we get to meet Rufus (of course), Jaki, Minerva, Thanatos, Prophecy, and Gregory. Gregory and Rufus are vampires who steal four psychics (the names above minus Rufus and Gregory 🤪), leave their coven behind, and buy a fixer-upper castle.  

The Death God is about Thanatos and Gregory. Thanatos’ skill is that he can see how people die. Gregory, who went searching for a way to prolong his life and found a vampire willing to turn him wants nothing to do with Thanatos and every time he sees him, it’s a reminder he won’t live forever.  

But there is an event hosted by the local werewolf pack, and they’re invited. To explain why they’ve left their coven without telling everyone they’ve stolen four psychics, they decide Gregory is gonna pretend to have fallen madly in love with a human. And that human is Thanatos.   

It’s somewhat of a challenge LOL  

The day we’re celebrating is World Gin Day, because when things don’t go as Gregory wishes – which they seldom do – he drowns his sorrows with gin.  

Read the first chapter below! 

The Death God

Sequel to Rufus the Dead

Drinking vampire blood saves lives, but it comes with a price.  

A couple of months ago, Gregory Acklam gave his blood to one of the psychics living in his castle. Vampires don’t share their blood willingly since it creates a partial mate bond when they do, but Thanatos would’ve died if Gregory hadn’t intervened. The effects of a partial mate bond wear off after a couple of weeks, so how is it possible Gregory still feels drawn to Thanatos?  

Thanatos Sage never asked anyone to save his life. It doesn’t mean he’s not grateful, but no one asked him. It feels unfair he should be punished for something he didn’t do, but months after it happened, Gregory still refuses to be in the same room as him.  

It all changes when Gregory needs a fake boyfriend to bring to a werewolf event. Gregory goes from avoiding him to constantly being in his space. He claims they need to smell of each other to fool the werewolves into believing they’re a couple. Thanatos is surprised to realize he doesn’t mind playing the part of Gregory’s boyfriend, but shouldn’t they stop pretending now that they’ve met the werewolves? 

Buy Links:

Paranormal gay romance:  50,482 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Gregory Acklam walked through the dark corridor of the cold basement until he reached the room with all the booze. The former owner had left a lot of things behind, including a room filled with a variety of bottles.

He’d never met them, but the real estate agent had said everything in the castle was included in the price, since the current owner was in a remote location and unable to come into the country to empty it. Suspicious? Yes. But that was why it was so cheap. The owner was looking for a quick sale, which worked in Gregory’s favor. Though, he believed the price had more to do with the risk of the building falling on their heads any second now.

It didn’t matter. He’d bought a fucking castle.

He grabbed a bottle of gin, uncapped it, and guzzled several mouthfuls before walking along the dark stone corridor.

He glanced into the room where they held Zidane. His still form was sprawled on an old, scarred table, the stake protruding from his chest.

Zidane was a fellow vampire they kept in one of the basement rooms in case of an emergency. He’d tried to kill them, so Gregory didn’t feel bad about it. He talked to him from time to time to let him know they were still there. He didn’t answer, of course, which was for the best. He’d never liked Zidane. Looked like a fucking fairy and acted as if people should be pleased to see him. They already had Prophecy in the castle, and one person with that kind of personality was more than enough. Unpleasant bastards.

He snorted and took another swallow, only to grimace.

Two months ago, Gregory had made a decision he wished he hadn’t. Seven years earlier, Orla, his maker, the leader of his coven, and a close friend, had been murdered. Iris, the new coven leader, had tried to pin it on Gregory’s best friend, Rufus. Gregory had been able to provide an alibi for Rufus at the time of the murder and therefore saved his life. Rufus had been sentenced to being staked in a coffin for seventy years though, and Rufus was claustrophobic.

It ate away at Gregory knowing Rufus was living his worst nightmare while Gregory was getting on with his life—or trying to get on with his life. He lost his will when both his friends were taken from him, but he couldn’t give up. Not until he’d gotten Rufus out of the coffin.

So he’d done what any good friend would do—offered Rufus up for an arranged mating with a person neither of them had ever met. Yup. It was the kind of friend he was.

Blood bonds were forever. There was no way out. From the moment of the blood exchange till the second you drew your last breath, you were mated, and Gregory had made sure Rufus got the gig.

It turned out the person Rufus got mated to was a psychic named Jaki who lived in a fucking asylum commonly known as the house of horrors. Or maybe not commonly, but it was the name it went under in this house. Castle. It wasn’t a house; it was a castle, and they owned it because Gregory had panicked.

He’d believed he’d lose Rufus again, so he’d sold everything he owned. Then he’d sold everything Rufus owned. The home he loved, all things with monetary value, and his backup home. Rufus was careful like that. He always had a backup plan for everything, aliases for aliases, and places he could move to should his home get compromised. Not now though, since Gregory had sold everything.

Yeah. That was the kind of friend Gregory was. The kind who set you up for arranged matings and sold everything you owned.

Rufus took it in stride. He might have grumbled about the fucking castle, and he might have been right, but when did you ever get a chance to buy a castle? It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing even for a vampire who, essentially, could live forever.

Had they still had any money, they could’ve blown everything out and fixed it up. It could’ve been lovely.

Now they’d settled to make sure all rooms had intact windows.

He took another swallow of gin.

“Having a good day, Zidane?” He watched for a flicker of life, a sign he’d heard him, but there was none. Being staked left you aware but unable to move or feel. Gregory could cut his hand off, and Zidane wouldn’t feel a thing.

He walked into the room, took another gulp from the bottle, and stroked his hand over Zidane’s eyelids. He looked into forest green eyes—because of course they were forest green. The only thing missing from Zidane living a real-life Lord of the Rings movie was pointed ears. The eyes didn’t move, but Gregory knew from experience he could see and hear him, and his brain worked as effectively as it did when not staked.

“Yeah, me either.” He took another swallow of gin. “I’d offer you a drink, or maybe not, since you tried to kill us.”

He leaned against the cool stone wall and closed his eyes. He couldn’t go on like this. He skipped meals, and he wasn’t sleeping. All he wanted to do was grab Thanatos and carry him to his bed. Except, he fucking hated Thanatos. There was no creepier man than Thanatos the death god.

When things had gone south, Iris had sent Jaki back to the house of horrors, so, of course, Gregory had stolen Rufus from the coffin he was in—because it was the kind of friend he was. He’d done it right after having sold everything Rufus owned.

They’d gone to the house of horrors to get Jaki only to find it empty. But since Rufus was bonded to him, they could follow the pull of his heart—not as romantic as it might sound—and they managed to locate Jaki. In a convoy of vans.

Rufus narrowed it down to two possible vans Jaki could be in, so they’d taken them out and grabbed all the psychics in them. Luckily, it had only been Jaki and three more. Minerva was okay. Prophecy was an ass Gregory wished they’d eaten instead of saved, and Thanatos… the death god.

He’d taken one look at Gregory, his eyes had gone completely white, and now he knew how Gregory would die.

Then, at the same time as they’d gotten hold of Zidane, Thanatos had been about to bleed out, and Rufus had begged Gregory to save him—because that was the kind of friend he was. Fucker. So Gregory had formed a partial blood bond with Thanatos, and now he wanted to kill him as much as he wanted to fuck him. And care for him. And keep him safe. And gaze into his eyes and say sappy things. Ugh.

He snarled before bringing the bottle to his lips. He swallowed greedily. With too little food and too little sleep, a bottle of gin created some buzz.

The problem was it had been two months. A partial mate bond should only last for a couple of weeks, and yet Gregory couldn’t be in the same room as Thanatos. He didn’t feel any different now than he had the moment the one-sided bond had slid into place.

He fucking hated Thanatos.

“Next time one of them is about to bleed out, we’ll feed them your blood.” He nudged Zidane’s shoulder, but he wouldn’t feel it. “Do you think it’s different because they’re seers?”

He didn’t think so. The mate bond acted the same whether you mated a human, a shifter, or another vampire. Vampire-vampire bonds were a little different since they couldn’t feed from each other, so there was no natural way to strengthen the bond. Though he suspected they bit each other now and then to keep the bond strong. Or not. A bond was a bond, and he feared he’d gag if he had to drink dead blood.

As soon as the hold of the partial bond let go of him, he’d go into the closest town and hook up with the first stranger he encountered. Or maybe not the first. He had some standards. But a nameless, faceless one-night stand was what he needed to free himself of this weird hold Thanatos had on him.

“I’m gonna go and get drunk in the kitchen now. I’d invite you to join me, but I don’t think you’re fit for company.” He leaned over Zidane and closed his eyelids. He was kind like that; didn’t let his prisoner’s eyes dry out.

* * * *

Thanatos Sage looked at the instruction video from the beginning. Again. He’d followed it step by step, but his sourdough starter didn’t bubble.

It had been two months since Rufus and Gregory had saved him from the house of horrors, and his new life was so much better than his previous one.

When he’d lived in the underground facility, the warden had sold his services, and his services included both his skill to foresee someone’s death and his body.

He never wanted to go back.

The warden was dead. Jaki had shot him, but since there hadn’t been any news about a group of people being found anywhere, he suspected someone else was running the show now. It was a lucrative business, and all the guards and other staff knew it.

Thanatos had lived most of his life in the blue wing. It was called the blue wing because everyone who lived there wore blue scrubs. Each small room with its crisp white walls housed two unhappy psychics. He’d shared a room with Prophecy since the day his father sold him to the warden.

Not now. Now he had his own room, and he loved it. He closed and locked his door behind him every night. He’d gotten extra locks. Rufus had looked at him as if he were insane when he’d asked for door latches, but he’d provided. Thanatos now had three sliding latches and two door chains. It made him sleep better. Or maybe not, since he didn’t sleep, but it made him calmer.

He tapped on the glass jar, hoping to see a bubble in the dough, but nothing.

Jaki and Rufus were his new favorite people. He’d lived next door to Jaki in the house of horrors, but they had never spoken other than a grunted hi from time to time. He’d heard him through the walls though. Not words, but he could pick out the tone of his voice as he and Minerva had talked.

His and Prophecy’s room had always been silent. It was as if there had been an invisible barrier in the middle of the room preventing sounds from filtering through.

Prophecy never asked how he was, what he was thinking, or if they should go to the canteen together. He’d envied Jaki and Minerva. The only ones he ever spoke to were his clients and he didn’t want to talk to them.

He shuddered and shook the glass jar. Still nothing. He watched the instruction video again, poured out most of the sourdough starter and fed it again. He moved the rubber band on the jar to where the surface of the dough started and placed it on top of the refrigerator.

When steps approached, he pressed himself against the kitchen counter and held his breath. Praying whoever was walking in this direction would turn around.

Gregory appeared in the doorway, scowled, and muttered something Thanatos couldn’t make out.

Gregory wasn’t as big as Rufus, who was a tall, broad-shouldered vampire with flaming red hair and a scarred face, but he was still taller than Thanatos. Thanatos was the smallest of the men currently living in the castle. It didn’t matter, but when Gregory glared at him, he shrank into himself more.

Pathetic. He was almost certain Gregory wouldn’t touch him. Almost. But a lifetime of experience had him keeping his distance.

Gregory drank from a bottle, the liquid see-through. Thanatos didn’t know enough about alcohol to be able to guess what it was from looking at the bottle, but he was sure it was liquor.

He didn’t know if a vampire could be an alcoholic. Since they healed almost everything, addiction seemed far-fetched, but he was no expert.

“Gonna stand there for long?”

Thanatos shook his head. As soon as Gregory moved away from the doorway, he planned on running, but moving now would mean stepping closer to him. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and his breath came in stutters.

Gregory narrowed his eyes, then grunted and walked further into the kitchen. Thanatos sucked in air and held it. As soon as there was a wide enough gap between Gregory and the kitchen counter, he rushed for the doorway. Had Gregory wanted to grab him, he could have. Vampires could move faster than the human eye could catch when they wanted to.

He rounded the corner of the doorway and panted as he hurried down the corridor toward his room. Once there, he closed the door and engaged all the locks.

This was better than the house of horrors. Much better. He had his own room, his own bathroom, he could pick clothes, and he was allowed to be in the kitchen and try to cook as many things as he wished, but it didn’t make his hands stop shaking or his heart wanting to break out of his ribcage.

What if the guards had killed the remaining seers in the house of horrors? He believed there had been twelve on the blue wing, but there was a pink wing and a green wing too. How many seers had lived there, he didn’t know, but no one would kill forty-ish people, would they?

He’d search all the news sites again tomorrow. It had been two months. Someone had to have found the other seers. Though, if someone had taken over the operation, he feared they’d never be found.

I’m here as Holly Day today. It’s always a bit weird to visit my own (other pen name) blog, but here we go! 😊 A few days ago, Rufus the Dead was released. It’s a story I wrote for Kiss Your Mate Day, and at first, I planned on writing a shifter story, but…  

It sounds like a story for Kiss Your Mate Day should be about shifters, right? But we have a vampire and a psychic who are mated through a blood bond. Jaki, our psychic, has no idea what it means, and while Rufus does, he doesn’t explain it. At least not until he’s forced to.  

Rufus has claustrophobia and seven years ago, he was staked and put in a coffin. While staked, a vampire is unable to move but fully aware of what’s going on around them. When the coven leader wants someone to form a blood bond with a psychic, everyone but Rufus refuses.  

It’s not that he wants to be mated to a person he’s never met, but it’s a chance to get out of the coffin.  

So we have an arranged mating, a psychic with a traumatic past, and political plots within the vampire court. Below you can read the first chapter, but you’ll have to read a bit more than that until you get to the kissing part 😊 

Rufus the Dead

Rufus will do anything not to remain staked in a coffin, including stealing a psychic and forming a blood bond with him. 
 
Rufus Mabuz was a badass assassin until his coven leader had him staked and stored away in a coffin for seven years. He was still a badass assassin, only he couldn’t move. Then one day, the coven leader makes him an offer — bond with a psychic or stay in the coffin for years to come. 
 
Jaki Sage is kept prisoner together with a group of psychics. He’s a psychic too, but a crappy one. He can’t foresee anything. The only thing he can do is look back in time to see what the weather was like around a certain event. Not useful. But then his friend, who can foresee things, tells him to go with Rufus the Dead. 
 
Rufus isn’t sure why he’s stealing a psychic and forming a blood bond with him, but anything is better than being staked. Jaki might not know much about vampires, but he thinks he’s better off with Rufus than if he hadn’t run away with him. But then the coven leader demands he uses his skills to find someone, or she’ll put Rufus back in the coffin. How will Jaki be able to find anyone when all he can see is weather?

Buy Links:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 50,659 words 

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Books2Read

Chapter 1

Jaki Sage looked at the bare white walls. His heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chest, and he had a bad feeling.

“So, a vampire?” Minerva, his roommate, looked at him from her cot. Her last name was also Sage, but they weren’t related. He didn’t think so, at least. They looked nothing alike, and everyone in this wing of the house of horrors was named Sage.

“It was what the warden said.” He’d taken Jaki aside and informed him there had been a last-minute booking of his services, and the person coming was a vampire. They rarely had vampires here. Jaki had never met one. The reason the warden had told him before it was time to go was to frighten him, but the warden didn’t make idle threats. He didn’t have to. Minerva and Jaki hadn’t named the facility the house of horrors for nothing. There was no point in lying, since many of those living here would be able to pick up on the lies.

“Lucky you. They’re super-hot. All that raw sex appeal, and they’re freakishly strong.” Neither of them cared about sex appeal, so this was her attempt to distract him. She gave him a weak smile, then winced as her already split lip started seeping again. The last customer couldn’t have liked her prediction.

Jaki would most likely look about the same way when he got back. He couldn’t predict the future, which was why people came here. They paid the warden crazy amounts of money to get answers to questions, and Jaki couldn’t give answers.

“Yeah, a good chance of getting killed, right? Displease a vampire.” A knot grew in his belly. The warden didn’t normally invite vampires to the facility. Maybe he was afraid they’d kill his precious seers. Not precious as in something he cherished, but precious as in worth a lot of money. That must be why he gave Jaki to the vampire. He wasn’t worth nearly as much as the others.

She huffed. “They could snap you like a twig, but I don’t think they’d kill the merchandise. Too pricey.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Is it a private session?”

Sometimes, depending on how wealthy the client was, they could be left alone in a room with the seer. The official reason was that no one other than the client would hear the prediction, but that was only part of it. The other was that the facility was moonlighting as a brothel.

“I don’t know.” Nausea built inside. Private sessions weren’t good. Both because people, for some reason, believed all psychics were women, and because Jaki was neither a psychic nor a woman. It often left the client disappointed, and… yeah… It was better not to worry about it until it happened.

There were a few other men in here. Prophecy and Thanatos had the room next to Minerva’s and his, but he seldom saw them anywhere other than in the canteen. He only ever spoke to Minerva.

She looked at him for a long time before holding out her hand. He hesitated. They never touched, but the poor thing had seen better days. Glancing out into the corridor through the window in the door to make sure no guard was watching them, he stepped closer and gently took her hand in his.

The moment he did, her eyes turned white. Irises and pupils disappeared, and she spoke in a hollow voice. “You must leave with him.”

“What?”

“Rufus the Dead.”

Oh, goodie. “Why?”

“You will die.”

Sweat threatened to break out on his skin. Fuck. He didn’t want to die. He might say he did, but if it’d been true, he’d have ended himself a long time ago. No one spent their entire life locked up in a horrid facility without trying to kill themselves if they truly wanted to die. “I’ll die if I stay?”

Between one blink and the next, her hazel eyes were back in place.

“What the fuck, Minerva!” She was capable of one prediction a day, as were most seers, which meant she hadn’t made one between the time she’d left the room this morning and now, but she’d gotten beaten half to death. Which meant a guard must’ve done the beating. They wore gloves to prevent unwelcome triggers. Had the client beaten her, it would’ve forced her into a prediction. Granted there was skin contact, of course.

“Did you save your prediction for me?” He was a mix of furious and worried. He never wanted her to get in trouble for him.

“Prophecy told me to.”

Of all the stupid names of the people living here, Prophecy had the stupidest one. Not his fault since they didn’t get to pick their names, but the stupid name combined with him always sucking up to the warden and the others working here made Jaki want to hit him. Stupid fucker.

“You took a beating because of something Prophecy said?”

“Was it worth it?” She grinned, then winced and dabbed at her lip again.

“I don’t know. You tell me!” He hadn’t meant to snap, but damn.

“What did I say?”

“You said I must leave with Rufus the Dead, and that I will die.”

“That you will die if you go, or you’ll die if you stay?”

“You never said.”

“What? It seems like an important question to answer.”

Jaki snorted. “It was short. You said: You must leave with him. I think I replied with something smart, like what?” He gave her a quick smile because damn, he’d been around seers long enough to know not to waste time on stupid questions. “And you said Rufus the Dead. I asked why, and you told me I’ll die.”

“You will die? With emphasis on will?” She frowned.

“Yeah. I tried to get you to answer if I’d die if I stayed, but you woke up before you could answer.”

“Way too short. No wonder the warden is displeased with me if that’s what my predictions are like these days.” She changed position and grimaced. “It can’t be what Prophecy wanted you to hear.”

“Since when do you talk to Prophecy?”

“He offered me his Snack Pack in the canteen, claimed he didn’t like chocolate pudding.”

“Huh, always knew he was insane.” They got dessert once a week and only an idiot would pass it up.

“Yeah, I think he lied to have a reason to talk to me. He looked pale, and there were tiny drops of sweat forming on his upper lip. I believed he was sick, but maybe he was having a vision. He can remember them, you know. He doesn’t need to speak while he’s having them.” Jaki had heard about it, but he did not care.

“He can do it without touching. It’s much harder for him, and touch still triggers a prediction, but he could be alone in his room and still make a prediction. So cool.”

He didn’t like the admiration in her voice. Prophecy was an idiot. Sure, he was good at what he did, good enough for Jaki to hear the whispers despite paying little attention to the others’ skills in this place. Jaki wasn’t measuring up; it was all he needed to know. The others saw visions or did what Minerva did. All he could do was tell people what the weather had been like on specific days. A useless skill, and he was surprised the warden hadn’t gotten rid of him a long time ago. Maybe it was what he was planning to do now, by giving him to a vampire.

The door rattled, and Jaki jumped away from Minerva. Touch wasn’t allowed since most were triggered by it—like Minerva. She had to touch the one she was giving a reading.

One of the big burly guards filled the doorway. “Time to go.” He glared at Jaki.

Jaki sent a pleading glance at Minerva. He didn’t want to go. Nothing good ever happened when he was with a client.

“It’ll be fine.” She nodded at him.

“You said I’ll die.”

“Raw sex appeal.”

“Yeah, Rufus the Dead sounds sexy as hell.”

She laughed but it ebbed into a hiss, and the last thing Jaki saw as he left the room was her clutching her side.

* * * *

Jaki’s steps echoed in the deserted corridor. The beige linoleum floor matched with the white wall gave him the creeps. He’d never seen anything else. Not anything he could remember, at least. He wasn’t born here, so he must’ve seen a real home at some point.

They were moved frequently, a few times a year, but the buildings they were taken to always looked the same. He didn’t know how many different locations they’d been in, but he suspected they were underground since there were no windows anywhere, and his senses were crippled. He’d tried to explain it to Minerva once. It was as if he wasn’t supposed to be buried, he had to be in the weather. Being kept from it clipped his wings.

On moving day, the guards would walk around at night and give them a sedative, and then the next time they woke, they were in a different place. Sometimes the room was a mirror image of the previous one, sometimes not, but he was always placed with Minerva, for which he was glad. If the warden knew how much Minerva meant to him, he’d use her against him. But many psychics couldn’t handle change well, so they seldom split roommates up.

The guard stopped in front of a gray, windowless door. “One hour.”

“What?”

“Private session. One hour.”

Fuck. One hour? Predictions lasted no more than a few seconds, a couple of minutes if the client booked someone good, which Jaki was not. “What should I do for an hour?”

The guard gave him a blank stare. “Whatever he tells you to do.”

He. Great. It was almost always a he, so no surprise there. But the hes coming here almost always expected a young pretty girl to step through the door, and Jaki wasn’t young, he wasn’t pretty, and he wasn’t a girl.

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

Inside sat a badly scarred man with long copper hair that hung in matted tresses, and Jaki did his best to suppress a shudder. Raw sex appeal? Minerva must’ve hit her head—or had someone hit her head for her. The man looked like a monster in severe need of a shower and a haircut.

“One hour.” The guard closed the door, and the sound of the lock sliding into place filled the air. Fuck. Jaki’s pulse sped up, and fear urged him to try to claw his way out of the room.

Seconds ticked by as he stared into the guy’s eyes while he stared back.

“You’re the seer?”

“Not really.”

“I paid to see a seer.” His lips looked hard. Maybe it was the scars making them look as if they were trapped in a permanent sneer, but Jaki couldn’t look away.

He filled his lungs as he tried to make up his mind about how to play this. Should he be pliant and accommodating, or should he try to get the beating over with as soon as possible? If he provoked him into hitting him, he could go back to his room, and he and Minerva could nurse their injuries together. “Dude, you paid for an hour. Which means you paid for a whore.”

The man blinked at him, then sharp teeth made an appearance. “I paid for a meal.”

Crap.

“A meal?” Jaki did his best to ignore the way his voice cracked. Vampire. Had he forgotten the guy was a vampire? Must have. Provoking a vampire couldn’t be smart in any scenario.

“I paid for a prediction and a feeding.” The scars made him look sinister, perhaps more so than he’d intended. Jaki wouldn’t bet on it, though.

How bad could being bitten be? Pretty bad. “Will it hurt?”

“Yes.” His eyes were cold. Not great, but better than if they’d been filled with lust. Jaki didn’t want people touching him. He’d never been vampire snack before, but it could hardly be worse than being a vampire whore, right? And it didn’t look like Mr. No-Sex-Appeal-Whatsoever was looking for a fuck. Small blessings.

“Okay, you want to ask your question first or do the munching first?”

The man’s eyes widened a fraction. “You said you weren’t a seer.”

Jaki held up his hands. “Atmokinesis. I can’t speak a prophecy. I can’t predict the future.”

The man didn’t move, didn’t breathe, which was unnerving. “Atmo… what does it mean?”

Yup, it was a crappy skill or real atmokinesis would’ve been cool, but Jaki couldn’t control the weather. “What’s your name?” If someone was going to eat him, he’d like to know the name.

“Rufus.”

“Rufus the Dead.”

If he believed the man had been still before, it was nothing compared to what he was now, and Jaki’s heart blocked his throat. Damn his stupid mouth.

“How did you know?” Something deadly crept into Rufus’ eyes, and Jaki fought the urge to fling himself at the door. It was locked, so it would be of no use.

“I didn’t.”

“Few know that name. How did you?” He took a step forward, and Jaki took one back.

“I didn’t. Minerva, my roommate, said I was to go with Rufus the Dead. She’s a seer for real.”

Fangs peeked out from underneath Rufus’ upper lip, and despite telling himself to look away, Jaki couldn’t.

“Then I want her.”

“Yeah… She’s out of commission.” Since she’d used her prediction on him.

“I don’t care. I want her.”

Jaki gestured at the door. “You have to take it up with the warden.”

“And he’ll give me someone else?”

Rufus looked at him as if it was something he should be able to predict. It was, but not thanks to psychic powers. “My guess is nope.” He popped the p.

“Your guess?”

“Look, I do atmokinesis. I can’t tell you what the warden will do.” Though he could bet an arm Rufus was stuck with him for the night—or the hour at least.

“I paid for blood and prophecies, not… atmo-shit.” The snarl was impressive, and Jaki nodded in an attempt to placate him.

“Okay, ask the warden.”

Rufus narrowed his eyes. “But the answer will be no.”

“Yeah. He’ll say no.”

“You know or you’re guessing?”

“He never lets anyone exchange the psychic they’re with. If he agreed to swap out the merchandise if someone was displeased, then he wouldn’t make any money off me, would he?” Jaki tried for a smile, which Rufus ignored.

Instead, he walked over to the door and banged on it. Jaki took in the long, black overcoat and black Doc Martens boots and almost snorted. It didn’t help that he was massive and wore a white ruffle shirt underneath the unbuttoned coat with a hole over his heart which was soiled by what looked like dried blood. Fuck, had he been staked or was he coming directly from a dress-up party?

The guard opened the door a couple of seconds later, which meant he had to have been standing right outside, listening to them. Pervert.