Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Daphne
At breakfast the next morning, I wasted no time tracking down the contest organizer, an attractive woman named Jada.
She wore a floral print skirt and cowboy boots—a look I loved but not one I could pull off myself.
She also had high cheekbones, a kind smile and a large day planner tucked under her arm.
“I’m afraid there’s a problem,” I said, pulling her aside.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Her tone was genuine, but not overly concerned. Like a mother talking to a child who was upset because the seams on her socks were bothering her.
I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “I’m human and didn’t know about—” I gestured wildly “—any of this until I got to the island yesterday.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
As I blurted it all out to her, Jada couldn’t have looked more stunned than if I’d slapped her across the face with a wet fish.
She rifled through her planner, then poked her finger at one of the washi-tape adorned pages. “It says right here that you’re a spirit medium.”
It was my turn to be completely shell-shocked, and not just because this woman’s planner pages were works of art. “A spirit medium? As in, I see dead people?”
She nodded apprehensively, a nervous smile creasing her face. “You do, don’t you?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. “I’ve never seen a dead person. And I hope I never do. I’m just a regular, run-of-the-mill human, I’m afraid.”
“Oh goodness. We’ve…uh…clearly made a mistake here.” She apologized profusely and said something about their internet ad targeting. I could tell she really felt bad about the mix-up. “You’re under no obligation to continue with the contest, Daphne. None.”
I nodded with relief. The last thing I wanted was to be a part of some sort of weird paranormal dating ritual.
I had barely come to terms with the fact that supernatural creatures actually existed.
And that I was surrounded by them on this tropical island.
Generally speaking, anything that involved me possibly getting killed was a hard stop in my book. I came here not to be killed.
“Is there any way I can ask you to go with the flow?” Jada asked, eyes pleading.
“Go with the flow?” As in, she didn’t want me to quit?
“Just for tonight,” she added, sensing correctly that I was about to tell her hell no. “Everything is set up for twelve contestants—all of our marketing materials, the staging, our graphics. I’ll give you my personal guarantee you won’t move forward in the contest after tonight.”
I knew there had to be a catch to the whole you’ve-won-a-free-vacation business.
I should’ve listened to my gut instinct that said I was being hoodwinked.
I mean, come on. Who believes they can legit win stuff on the internet?
But I guess I’d always dreamed of doing more.
Being more. Filling out those quizzes and entering contests was a way of fooling myself that I was.
Jada spoke quickly. “You’ll have a spa day today. Get your hair and makeup done. Then, after tonight’s ceremony, you can go back and enjoy the rest of your vacation. On us, of course.”
She made it sound so nice and normal. But she was probably some sort of supernatural creature herself. A shifter, perhaps, given the animal intensity of her eyes. Normal for her and normal for me clearly weren’t in the same ballpark.
“Ceremony?” The word conjured up images of stone altars and witches dancing around a funeral pyre. “It doesn’t…uh…involve things like sacrifices, bloodletting or evil incantations, does it?” Because that was where I drew the line between maybe-I’d-consider-it and fuck-no.
“No, no,” Jada said hastily. “Nothing like that. Dark magic is strictly forbidden on the island. Have I mentioned that today you’ll spend time in a gorgeous, award-winning spa right here in the hotel?
It’s made the top ten lists on a bunch of paranormal travel blogs—exotic oxygen facials, hot stone massages, paraffin pedicures, to name a few. ”
Given the cost of such treatments and my bank account balance, I rarely indulged in such pleasures. And I’d never even been to an actual day-spa, just strip-mall nail salons. I couldn’t justify the expense. Hmm. Did they give you plush robes and green juice?
Maybe Jada was a witch, working a spell on me, or just really astute and knew what my hot buttons were, because I could feel myself caving.
No, this was madness! I couldn’t participate in a dating contest with a supernatural creature. I shouldn’t agree to this.
Jada was still talking. “Aromatic steam baths with locally sourced herbs and essential oils…”
Wait! What?
My head snapped up. Locally sourced? There were herbalists on the island? Did they grow their own plants in carefully tended gardens or forage for them out in the wild?
Taking a deep breath, I opened up the folded Date-A-Wolf itinerary again and noted how pretty the hand-written lettering was at the top. Had Jada done it herself, or had she bought the font online?
I rubbed my stiff shoulders, tense from—well, everything. I could actually really use a good massage.
Letting out the breath I knew I was holding, I said, “Well, okay, but I’m going to need something to wear.”