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her head.
    “Maybe it was something we ate.” Bam bit her lip and tried to remember if there was something they’d had in common from the menu, but she couldn’t think what it might have been. Oliver had ordered a burger, Freya’s was fish, and she’d had a vegetarian dinner of stuffed peppers and goat’s cheese. There was no link between their meals.
    “Or we inhaled something nasty in that house.” Her voice was a whisper now, and the thought sent tiny sparks of fear flashing through her brain. She sat up straight in the bed, a soft snore escaping from the pillow next to her.
    “Freya.” She pushed her friend’s shoulder.
    “What?” The voice sounded angry.
    “What if the house poisoned us?”
    “If it did, let me die in peace.” Freya turned around and pulled the covers over her shoulder.
    “I’m serious.”
    “The house didn’t poison us.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I just do.”
    “I’ve heard stories of people dying because they visited a tomb. Something about deadly spores or something.”
    Freya sat up, her face looking tired and pale under the long strands of black hair.
    “When my aunt died, they did an autopsy.”
    “So, there was nothing suspicious about her death. What’s your point?”
    “I’m sure when they found her body a lot of people entered the house. Doctors, probably police officers. That brown stuff can’t have just grown overnight, so they probably saw it too. Don’t you think they would have investigated it to rule it out as a source of her death?”
    “Maybe.” Bam shrugged, unconvinced.
    “We’ll make some calls tomorrow okay? If we’re not dead by then.” Freya rubbed the top of her nose. “Though Lord knows, death sounds like a pretty sweet option right now. Just go to sleep.”
    “Yeah.” Bam felt silly, so she slid back under the covers. Freya glanced at her, expecting her to say something else, but then she followed Bam’s lead.
    “Don’t worry. Let’s just try and get a few more hours of sleep. You picked a fine fucking time to freak out about the house, that’s for sure. Just leave the stressing to me, and you go to sleep, okay?”
    Bam closed her eyes and tried to relax her breathing. Something felt wrong, and she wondered if Freya was just being laconic or if she herself was overreacting.
    ***
    Oliver woke from a dream. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his stomach tightened with cramps as if he’d swallowed glass. With shaking fingers, he peeled off his t-shirt and lay back down on the cold, moist sheets. A deep breath escaped from his lungs. He felt sick, and when he closed his eyes, he could smell the stale odour of Angel Manor. His mind reeled as he thought back to the nightmare which had plagued his sleep.
    Angel Manor had been restored to its former glory. In his dream, he had walked through the rows of angels in the middle of the night towards a red-haired woman standing in the open front doors, a diaphanous nightgown revealing all her curves in the light of the moon. Her breasts pressed against the fine material, and he’d felt something stir in his loins.
    “I’m yours now.” The woman’s voice was a low whisper, and for a moment, Oliver wondered if the words had come from her lips or if the house itself had spoken. “Come and claim me.” She turned and ran into the house. Despite his misgivings, Oliver had run after her.
    The hotel looked different in his dreams, not broken and old, but beautiful and whole. The floor shone under his feet, and the furniture looked in mint condition. A crystal chandelier sparkled with bright luminescence, casting thousands of stars around the entrance hall. The main hall was now a reception area, just as Oliver had envisioned it, and a fresh-faced receptionist in a Victorian black dress with a high collar and a blonde bun on the top of her head nodded at him as he walked by. There were people milling around, each regarding him with a reverence that made him feel like a king.
    The woman in the