The patronage of the bar was sparse—an older couple, the bartender, and a young couple obviously on honeymoon. The honeymoon couple were absorbed with each other and never noticed Pierce and Kenzie come in, but the older couple glanced up in alarm.
Kenzie knew she and Pierce looked scary—Pierce was a giant of a man compared to humans, and Kenzie was plenty tall. With their leather jackets, rumpled hair, and Collars, they must present a frightening picture.
“I can serve you drinks,” the bartender said. “But the hotel doesn’t have accommodations for Shifters.”
Kenzie wanted to snap that Shifters used the same kind of bedrooms as any human, but she restrained herself. No sense riling the natives.
“We’re just passing through,” Pierce said smoothly, moving to the long, polished wooden bar. He’d always been more diplomatic than most Shifters. “We’ll each have a beer, the best you have on tap. We’re wondering if you’ve seen this guy.” Pierce pushed a print of the photo of Gil from long ago across the bar’s top.
The bartender glanced at it as he pulled the tap and filled a glass, tilting it to let out a stream of foam. “Of course I’ve seen him. Most people who work here have, and so have some of the guests.”
“Great,” Pierce said. “Do you think we could talk to him?”
The bartender shrugged. He placed the filled glass, expertly topped with a small head, in front of Kenzie, and started on the next one. “Depends. Sometimes he shows up; sometimes he doesn’t. It’s been hit or miss lately. Too bad, because some of the guests drive miles for it. If he appears tonight, it will be out in the lobby, on the old staircase. Was there last night, though before that, he hadn’t shown himself for about a week.”
Kenzie gave him a blank look. “Shown himself?”
The bartender put the second glass down in front of Pierce, printed out a slip from the register behind the bar, and put the paper facedown by Pierce’s hand. “You know, manifest, or whatever it’s called.” The bartender tapped the picture. “He’s our resident ghost. Famous. This is the most popular haunted hotel in the Smokies.”
* * *
“Ghost, my ass,” Kenzie muttered to Pierce as they sat at a table in the corner. The older couple had sidled out, but the newlyweds had their arms wrapped around each other, their mouths meeting and parting, meeting again.
Kenzie had stepped out into the cold on the porch to call Bowman again while Pierce settled the tab. She’d explained to him where she and Pierce had gone. “Seriously?” Bowman had asked. He’d been slightly out of breath, as though he’d been running.
“We’re going to wait and see if he manifests,” Kenzie said. “Then I’m going to kick his ass.”
“Be careful.” Bowman’s rumbling voice warned her. “If he’s been lying to us, it means he’s dangerous. I’m coming out there.”
“No need,” Kenzie said. “Pierce is pretty good in a fight.” An understatement—he was one of the best fighters at the fight club, next to his cousin Jamie. “I promise if things go bad, we’ll back off.”
Bowman hesitated. She could tell he was torn—he wanted to come, but it was clear he was involved in things on his side. “All right, but keep in touch.”
“What are you doing?” Kenzie asked, worried.
“Stuff I should have done days ago. I’m taking over Turner’s house, holding him, and searching everything he’s got. He’s going to give me some answers.”
“You be careful,” Kenzie said, echoing his warning. Chasing Gil suddenly seemed like a picnic—a Shifter one, with plenty of food, drink, and sex. “I’ve read parts of Turner’s manuscript. He seems to know a lot about Shifters, I mean, back when they first appeared out of Fae gates. He speculates pretty close to the truth about how the original Shifters were created. He knows a lot about it, Bowman. More than anyone should.”
“Good. Then he’ll tell it all to me. I’ll wring the truth out of him.”
“And if you hurt him, he’ll call the police, and you’ll be arrested, caged, and probably killed.”
Bowman laughed with the snarling laugh he used when he was at his most angry. “In that case, I’ll let Cristian wring him in half for me. Don’t worry, Kenz. Turner will talk to me, not the police.”
Kenzie hung up, not reassured.
She and Pierce waited, restless, and sipped beers. They didn’t talk much. The honeymoon couple remained entwined, oblivious, their drinks untouched.
At around one, the bartender sent them a nod. “If you want to see the ghost, he usually shows up about now.”
Kenzie was on her feet and leaving the bar. She heard Pierce drop a tip on the table and follow her.