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“I don’t mess with them,” Owain said, offended. “I bring them room service.”

“I think you’ve been possessed,” I said seriously, searching my belt for some sort of tool to help me tell.

“Possessed by pleasure.”

“Please stop doing that.”

Owain ignored me completely, breezing past me to the door. “Would you like the tour of our amenities now or after you settle in?”

A plank fell from the ceiling onto the bed, where my head would have been had I been lying down.

We both stared at it for a moment or two.

“I’ll call Popty to clean that up right away,” Owain said cheerfully.

“I’m going to die here, aren’t I?”

Owain laughed. “A death hasn’t happened here for at least three eighths of a year.”

He walked out of the room and I followed closely on his heels. “Three eighths of a year? Am I supposed to do maths now to work out how fucked I am? I thought you were going to say at least fifty years!”

“There have been a few unfortunate incidents, as I understand it. But it’s under new management now. My management. And no one has died at all!” Owain paused, and I stumbled to a halt beside him. “Maybe I should print that on a flyer?”

“Did they give you any information about the deaths before you bought this place?” I asked instead of entertaining the insanity.

Owain narrowed his eyes slightly at my prodding. “Why?”

“Curiosity,” I lied quickly. “We’re on a tour of the place, aren’t we? I’m curious about the history.”

Because the history I had was based on doctored info, clearly.

No, I wasn’t proud that I’d looked up the history of the B&B on Wikipedia. But I’d barely got back from one haunt before being handed the next and sent out the door again, so I’d cut some corners. Sue me.

I hadn’t expected Owain to have got to his own Wikipedia first. Along with photoshopping all the listings, he’d wiped any mentions of deaths. So I had to start from scratch, and in the short time I’d been doing this, I’d found first-hand accounts of legends and folktales were often more useful than online records.

Owain grinned with enthusiasm about showing off his place, and I felt a bit bad for taking advantage of his gullibility.

“The Last Resort dates back to the thirteenth century. The stories say longer than that, but the timeline of things got a little caught up in an unfortunate incident involving a priest, a—ahem—lady of the night, and a gentleman caller. It’s changed hands many times, but it’s always been a place where people can come and stay. It was an inn, a guest house, a small hotel. It’s been expanded and added to throughout every century, which is why it looks so beautiful and unique!

“The previous owners, like the place itself, were all very interesting characters. You can talk to some of them yourself if you’re interested and get a first-hand account! On this floor we have five permanent guests with us.” Owain led me along.

“Grandma Bronwyn is here across the hall in the Merry Mausoleum room, and she owned the place in the 1800s.” He leaned in closer to whisper and I tried not to stare at his lips. “There are rumours that she buried her husband out back for having a mistress, but I’ve never seen him around. I think he hides.”

I found myself scowling, thinking of my own mother and my sperm donor, who ran off with my twenty-year-old babysitter. “Can I at least exorcise him?”

“I don’t think she would like that. She’s been chasing him for centuries and wants to get her hands on him herself.” Owain gestured us further down the hall. “Oh, and just as a heads-up, she likes to wail between seven and eight and patrols the house at odd hours to try and catch him out, so don’t worry if you feel a chill as she passes through. There are complimentary earplugs in your room to deal with the noise. Also…maybe try to avoid her for now. She’s a bit peeved that you’re here, so there’ve been a lot of thrown objects.”

A screech whipped through the house, rattling the windows and making the lights flicker.

I ducked, reaching for my Pulser and realising it was still where I had dropped it.

“She’s a poltergeist, isn’t she?” I asked as the rattling continued.

Owain cleared his throat and ignored that. “I’ll talk to her. She’s usually good with guests. She’s only tried to scare a person off the cliff once!”

“After possibly murdering her husband.”

“That was never actually proven.”