With a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, Yari shimmied open the sliding glass door and rested her finger on the security wire. It popped once. She waited, her heart thundering in her chest. Touching the wire might be overkill. She inhaled, testing the air for traces of smoke. Breaking into a home for the first time always freaked her out.

Nothing smelled like burning metal, a thing she knew unfortunately too well. Her shoulders relaxed. Time to check out her new borrowed place. Come on, she bit her inner lip, no wham-ies this time.

She finished pushing open the sliding glass door and got her first real glimpse of the condo. Empty, darn it. She dumped her backpack on the linoleum counter in disgust. Her stomach lurched while she studied the barren room's stained carpet.

Just her luck that the place wasn't staged to sell--must be a foreclosure. That would mean a nice hard, and by all appearances, very disgusting floor to sleep on. The perfect enhancement to her already stiff-as-shit neck. She thought of her soft massage bed at the spa. No, that wouldn't do. Not as long as skeleton dude knew where she worked. She'd take the hard, cold, lumpy and stained with god knew what floor, with pleasure.

The next morning, she took a fast and very cold shower, thanks to the gas being shut off, and then made sure to remove all traces of her presence around the condo.

Exiting the sliding door, she climbed down the support pole of the deck. Darla waited under a tree, her front basket overflowing with a messy bundle of yellow wildflowers.

That was the other bizarre thing about Darla. The bike liked flowers, really liked them. Her front basket seemed to produce flowers out of the air. Daisies were the favorite, maybe because they matched her rusty purple paint job. But she collected other colors too. Whenever Yari left Darla unattended, foliage appeared. Even in winter.

There were never any footprints in the snow, or tracks in the dirt indicating a person was involved, and it didn't seem to matter where she left the bike, the thing produced flowers. Once, on the anniversary of finding Darla, Yari discovered a dozen pink roses waiting for her return. Now that was crazy.

The trip from the town of Cripple Creek to the Gold Creek Spa proved an easy two-mile ride uphill along Highway 67. Arriving, she saw Rick's shiny gear-loaded mountain bike parked in the metal rack.

Too bad that. The two bikes didn't get along. If Yari parked Darla close, Rick's bike would end up on its side, normally in the mud. Then Rick would accuse her of pushing his bike over, and she would tell him to get a lock which he always claimed to use. Today, two locks secured his bike. Her gaze narrowed, and she nudged Darla next to her rival.

Patting the worn plastic seat, she smiled at her bike.  "Go get-em girl."

She used the back door of the spa to enter as a courtesy to the wired parts of the business. The front door opened up to a receptionist desk loaded with a cash register, credit card processor, company computer, and what not. Yari kindly avoided the area. Her private therapy room was located strategically in the furthest corner of the basement. The daily schedule printed out and clipped to the door, no need for her retrieve it from the front desk. Ever.

Carmen, the spa's owner, office door rested open as Yari walked past. Thank goodness. She didn't think she could take another day of Rick's tyrannical management. Staying across the hall, she peeked in at her real manager. Carmen's sable colored hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and she didn't glance up from her computer as she typed.

"It's half past eleven Yari, and your first appointment's at twelve sharp."

"Thanks." So nice having a boss who got her.

"Wait." She turned to find Carmen's violet eyes aimed directly at her. "You're different." Getting up, Carmen moved around her desk crossing the room. "What is it?" She pointed at Yari's new scarf and her lips compressed into a thin line. "What happened to your neck?"

Instinctually, Yari raised her hands to the purple and green bruise. "Had an accident," she squeaked.

Her boss leaned forward and gave her a once-over with her glare. "An accident in the shape of a hand? That scarf's way too sheer girl." She grabbed Yari's elbow and pulled her into the office then shut the door. "What happened? You know you can trust me."

Yari glanced at the ceiling. Rick said the same thing right before sending her to the bank yesterday. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Carmen wasn't Rick. She did kind of trust her boss. Ever since they met a year ago at the Boulder Farmers Market, Yari thought the woman at least understood her differences.

She was busy selling produce at a stand when on passing by Carmen spotted Darla under a nearby tree. She'd offered a lot of money to buy the bike, saying she collected such interesting things. When Yari refused, Carmen surprised her by offering her a job at her Cripple Creek spa, just like that. She gave Yari that funny Carmen squint, shook her head, and said something to the effect of: "With energy like yours, you should be working for me."

Yari had never received a massage let alone given one. Didn't matter. Carmen taught her the basics then let her natural talent take over. The spa job became her first stable work.

"I do trust you. It's, well."Yari studied her boss. "Do you believe in paranormal things?"

Carmen's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"Like ghosts, or not ghosts, but close to ghost, but say they're dead, but don't always look dead kind-of-person?" Oh yeah, she was phrasing this wonderfully well. Maybe she'd shut the fuck-up now that her boss thought her a wacko.

Carmen's face became smooth, and it seemed that the air around her rippled. Yari bit the inside of her lip and wished like shit she could retract those last dumb-ass words.

"Never mind, I tripped, okay." She yanked on the door. Carmen's foot stopped it.

"Give me more than that."

Her stomach lurched. Exactly what she needed, another place rejecting her. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Maybe." Carmen moved to her desk then sat in her high leather chair. She shut her laptop, and storing it in a metal filing cabinet, motioned for Yari to take the chair in front of her. With calculating movements, she laced her fingers over her desk.

"Now, tell me," she tilted slightly forward, "what kind of undead are we talking about here, Yari?"

Nothing like cutting to the monster chase. Yari let out a nervous breath. "I met a man who says he's a zombie, and seeing him in the moonlight, I believe it." There, it was out. And yup, she still sounded crazy as cornflakes.

Carmen nodded. Her mouth retained its thin lines. "What did he look like? In the moonlight you said?"

"Very gross and dead, but other times he appeared normal." And hot as all holy hell. She bit her tongue from adding the last part. Her bosses face continued to tighten. Wow, she really walked into a new world of stupid with this conversation.

"You've seen him more than once?"

Yari nodded. Not trusting herself to say more.

"How many times?"

"Ah, three?"

Carmen leaned further forward. Her hands spread upon the desk like she prepared to spring. "And he's the one who did that to your neck?"

"Sure, the first time when he appeared sort of different." Yari leaned away in her chair making it squeak in protest. The intensity of Carmen's stare made her shiver. Okay, maybe she wasn't the only kooky one here. The high altitude was defiantly depriving Carmen's brain cells of much-needed oxygen. She needed to think of a task to do in her treatment room, fast.

Her boss squeezed her fists. "Stay away from it, Yari. This is very dangerous." Her voice sounded strained like a religious fanatic. "Tell me, did it find you all three times?"

"No, I mean yes, well, the last time he found me."

Carmen gave a forced sounding sigh. "I should have guessed you'd attract them."

The air deflated inside Yari. One destructive personality quirk was plenty. Her shoulders fell. She didn't want the added burden of being a monster magnet. Especially if it made her boss flip-out.

"It's the same thing that changes energy when you get worked up," Carmen continued. "It's not your fault, but don't encourage it. Dealing with the un-dead is dangerous." she paused and her violet stare measured Yari. "Where're you staying these days?"

Yari shifted her weight and glanced around. Carmen might suspect that she had commitment issues with living in one place too long. "I'm still searching for a place that I can afford." And without electricity, but with plumbing, and coated in fire retardant...

"Searching in other people's houses? Never mind." Carmen stood and motioned for her to get up. "I need to make some calls. Come to see me when you're off work tonight."

Yari nodded. The large kinks forming in her neck screamed that continuing to talk to Carmen could be less than intelligent.

"Great. Until then." Leading Yari to the door, Carmen practically shut it in her face.

Yari blinked. Okay weird. Carmen was into supernatural mambo-jumbo in a freaked out sort of way. It didn't fit. She scratched her head. Things were just getting stranger. A cold knot formed in her gut. Now she had to worry about that along with uncontrollable sparks and the undead cute guy who kept popping up around her. Perfect.

With a half hour before her appointment, she made her way to the break room. Only Claudette sat at the table eating lunch, a stack of papers strewn about. Yari wrinkled her nose at the smell of ramin waffling in the air.

Claudette grinned. "Yari, I got a great idea. Come over here."

She tried to smile at her friend. Really? She just wanted to grab some grub and slink off to contemplate what to do if she saw zombie-boy again. Stepping into the room, she saw that Claudette had changed her hair color, sort of. Part of it was bleached white, another section dyed deep black, and a third part red.

"Experimenting on the hair again?"

Claudette waved her hand. "Oh, I couldn't make up my mind."

Nice. Yari went to her cubby to grab an apple and a can of tuna. She tried to walk past her friend but Claudette pushed out a chair and patted the seat to sit.

"See, I got us applications to go work on a cruise ship. Won't that be fun? We can go to great places, and the pay is amazing, I heard."

Yari sank into the chair, then quickly leaned in the opposite direction. Claudette tended to like stronger smelling massage lotion, but her lunch of noodles along with rosewood oil didn't mix well on Yari's nervous stomach.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea."

"Oh, Yari, being on the ocean would be fun."

"I'm fine with the water, it's the boat that scares me..."

Claudette sighed in an overly dramatic expression. "But we need to see the world." She threw her arms wide tipping over her cup. Jumping up, Yari grabbed some napkins right when Rick strolled in.

He sneered at the scene.

"Hey, Rick," Claudette whaled. "Me and Yari are going to apply to work on a cruise ship."

Rick raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Great. Want a tip? Pick a different yacht from Yari."

Prick. He really did believe that stuff broke around her, and yet he sent her to the bank. Double prick. She glared at him as, still snickering, he went to the refrigerator, pulled out an energy drink, and sauntered away.

Claudette's eyes followed him. She leaned in closer to Yari. "Think he likes me."

Yari choked on her apple bite.

"We hooked up last week and--"

"You screwed Rick?"

"Shhhh, don't yell it already. We agreed to just sex, but I really think we made a connection."

"Are you listening to yourself? It's Rick."

Claudette hurriedly gathered up her many papers and brochures. "How would you know? You've never hooked up with anyone."

For good reason. Even without any experience, she could see the traffic wreck that a Claudette-Rick twist would create.

"Has he called you since the event."

Claudette set her jaw at an angle and looked squarely at her friend. "No, but he said he would, even said we could do it again sometime."

"Wow, that's deep. On that note, I got a client waiting." Yari picked up her breakfast and headed for the door before changing her mind and replacing the can of tuna fish into her cubby. It sucked not trusting herself around appliances, cold food got old. "Let me know how the whole Rick thing works out. Oh, and do you know anything about Carmen being into paranormal stuff?"

"Carmen? Our boring, librarian-clone-for-a-spa-owner Carmen?" Claudette knocked a couple sheets of paper to the floor while she gathered her stack. "Sorry, can't see that."

"Oh, you're right. Never mind, catch you later."

Yari's stomach still churned. Making her way to her room, she thought of her manger's reaction, and her gut tightened further. While she stayed less-then-thrilled that Damien wanted to see her she sure didn't want him harmed. And Carmen, maybe even Rick's, actions made her suspect that the spa might be a dangerous place for the undead.