"Think you're up for it?" Max gave me the smile that'd made me fall for him a year ago. He was such a mystery and rarely came to parties with all the other mob guys. I'd be up for anything, even going to a spooky, abandoned house to finally have a chance to be all alone with him and see if this chemistry was a firecracker or a whole box of fireworks. When his eyes traveled slowly over my outfit, stopping on my collarbone, cleavage, waist and hip, I decided I'd have to treat Marion to a full-on afternoon tea at the Hilton for transforming me into Elvira.

I smiled and quirked up an eyebrow to let him know I was definitely up for it.

He held out a hand to help me up from the floor where we'd all sat to play our own version of Truth or Dare. My heart hiccuped in happiness when pulled me up to standing mere inches away from him. I tipped my chin up to look into his hazel eyes, and his lusciously full lips curled with promise when my eyes dropped there involuntarily. More than anything I wanted to lean forward into him and finally feel all the hardness of him pressed up against me.

He kept hold of my hand and as we walked to the door he called over his shoulder, "If we're not back in half an hour, send in the ghostbusters!"

Jeremy, who'd been crushing on me as long as I've been wanting Max, narrowed his eyes at our linked hands. "I'll come save you."

Max gave him a little salute. "Excellent."

Holding the door like a gentleman, Max let me out first. But I suspected he had ulterior motives when he placed his hand on the small of my back so his thumb could trace the V of skin the low-dipped back of my dress revealed. My core tightened at the gentle ministrations. I glanced up at him from lowered lashes to see him looking down at me with embers heating his eyes.

The wind whipped around the side of the building sending a shiver through me. I hugged myself, feeling goosebumps as I rubbed my bare arms to warm them. "Brrrr!" I said.

Max wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into the warmth of his body as we quickly walked toward the dead-end of the street. "Let's go get you warmed up."

"We're going to an abandoned house. I doubt it'll be cosy inside."

"Then we'll have to make it cosy, won't we?" He pulled gently on my waist to slow me. When we'd halted, he tipped my chin up with one finger. My heart raced in anticipation of his kiss. He traced my jaw with his thumb, drinking in my face. He murmured something I couldn't quite hear.

"What was that?"

"We'd better hurry," he said and smiled tightly before hurrying me down the dark street.

My skin prickled and the tiny hairs all over my body stood up. That definitely wasn't what he'd said.

We left the last pool of light from the overhead lamps and approached the broken gate of number 22 Sycamore Street. The tall three-story house was as grey and faded as the picket fence that served to guard the yard full of weeds. It had been abandoned since before I was born, but somehow, despite kids, and even adults, pranking and doing dares over the years, the windows hadn't all been broken and the door still worked.

"So we just need to go in the front door and out the back?" I could hear the nerves in my voice. I'd once run up and touched the door on a full-moon night, but I refused to do more than that. I swear I'd heard a scream in the brief moment I was close to the house. I didn't care that people called me a chicken or a liar. I called it self-preservation. To my dying day I'd swear on a stack of bibles it wasn't the wind I'd heard that night.

I glanced at Max to see if he could tell I was have a mild freak out as scenes from every scary movie I'd ever seen were flashing through my mind. He was looking at the house with a big eager smile on his handsome face.

I drew comfort from his strong arm around me that at least I wasn't facing this alone and drummed up the courage to step through the gate. Only when he moved forward with me did I realize he'd stopped alongside me while I deliberated.

"That's my girl," he smiled down at me and hugged me tightly as we went up the walk to the sagging veranda. "It's always more powerful when you enter of your own free will."

"What's more powerful?" I asked as we mounted the steps.

He pulled open the door and led me inside.

I'd expected to smell dust long undisturbed and the decay of old wood. Those scents were there, but also candlewax and sulphur.

My eyes darted from dark room to room, seeing the dim outlines of furniture in the light from the full moon streaming through the windows.

"Where's the back door?" I crowded into Max's side, snaking a hand around his waist seeking reassurance. He responded by hugging me tighter and rubbing my arm.

"We'll get there, but we have a slight detour to make first." His arm felt more like a vice I was caught in as he lead me into the depths of the house.

"Detour?" My voice cracked in fear.

Dim light illuminated the outline of a doorway ahead of us. He opened it to a set of stairs going down. The smell of candles and sulphur was much stronger. A low humming music was playing down below.

"I don't-"

"Shhhh!" He laid a firm finger over my mouth and dragged me along when I resisted going down the stairs.

My stilettos caught on the lip of the doorway, pitching me forward down the steps. I threw my arms out instinctively to break my fall, but Max's arms wrapped around my waist. He easily set me back on my feet and herded me down.

"Careful now. He wouldn't like it if you got damaged before arrives."

"He?" I looked up at Max's face in time to see him smile in greeting at someone. I had to force my head to turn and look.

The cutaway of the stair wall revealed a large finished basement, surprisingly modern compared to the decaying monument above. The walls were panelled in dark walnut with well-spaced decorative sconces throwing light up to make what would have been a dark space look quite inviting.

A ring of men and women in the centre had welcoming smiles, but their long black robes embroidered with red symbols and a man wearing a large blood-red mask with long, twisting horns were nothing but. Two men came over to meet us at the bottom step. The low humming was coming from the assembled group.

My eyes looked beyond them and I started chanting "No! No! No!" I'd seen enough horror movies to recognize a sacrificial altar when I saw one. In the centre of the ring of people was a large, round stone slab. So large I wondered how they'd managed to get it inside. Arcane symbols were painted in red and black on the greyish-white surface. What really made me start to struggle were the four manacles designed to hold the victim down.

"She's lovely," the man in the mask said. "And fertile."

Max helped the two men to secure my arms. "Yes. I hope he'll be pleased with her. There'll be a snack coming, a man, in a little while. I'd better go up and meet him because I expect he'll be early. He's rather sweet on this one here."

They ignored my pleas to let me go and secured my kicking feet. The cold metal bit into my skin.

The masked man inclined his head. "Perhaps we'll delay the summoning then. You know how much having an excited audience pleases our master."

I managed to get out a scream right before they stuffed the gag in my mouth.

WORD COUNT: 1385