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“Great memories, good memories, and a few ‘holy crap I can’t believe we survived that’ memories,” Austin agreed. “But don’t get your hopes up, broom boy; I’m not sharing stories of what a cute little Keeper Claire was. Nothing against you personally, it’s just not something cats do.”

“Why not?”

One black ear flicked disdainfully.“Hey, I don’t write the rules.”

“You don’t even follow the rules,” Dean pointed out, frowning down at a set of parallel scratches gouged out by the desk chair. “Before Claire went in, she said they could be in there for a couple of days. We’re already past that estimate.”

“True. But they could still come out yesterday.”

That was enough to pull Dean’s complete attention from the floor. “What?”

“Time on the Otherside runs differently: four days here isn’t necessarily four days there, so they could come out at any time.”

“What?”

Austin sighed and sat up.“If they can come out any time,” he reiterated slowly and distinctly, “then as long as they don’t come out before they left, they can come out yesterday.”

“But we’ve already lived yesterday and part of today without them.”

“Doesn’t matter, we won’t know that we did. This particular reality will simply disappear, a new reality with Claire and Diana and that orange thing replacing it and becoming the only reality.”

“Really?”

“Nah. I’m just messing with your head.” He looked significantly more cheerful than he had for days. “Once time’s been used, it’s done. Nobody wants time with turned-over corners and pencil scribbles in the margins.”

“Do cats get senile?” Dean asked the room at large. When the room didn’t answer, which around the guest house wasn’t always a given, he knelt to whisk the pile of dirt and cat hair—mostly cat hair—onto a dustpan. Still on his knees, he heard the outside door open and half a dozen peopletromp in. Without wiping their feet. Wondering why Newfoundlanders seemed to be the only people in Canada who grasped the concept of not tracking dirt inside, he called, “I’ll be right there.” He spilled the dustpan into the garbage and stood.

A young woman waited in the lobby, half leaning on the counter and stroking Austin. Tied back off her face with a ribbon, her shoulder-length hair was so black the highlights were blue. Her skin was very pale, her fingers amazingly so against Austin’s fur, and her lips were a dark red…red as blood. Dean looked out the window and once he was certain the sun hadn’t set early and no unscheduled total eclipse had darkened the sky, he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The continuing presence of daylight came as a distinctrelief. He had nothing against vampires in general, but they always drew groupies and those guys just weirded him right out.

He smiled what Claire called his innkeeper smile.“Can I help you?”

“We were wondering if you had rooms available.”

We? Dean leaned forward and found himself staring down at seven muscular men in shorts and tank tops. The largest of them barely cracked four feet tall.“Uh, we only have six rooms and they’re all doubles…”

She waved off his protest.“Not a problem. Four rooms are fine; we’re not made of money, so we’re used to sharing. It’s just we’ve been on the road all night and we’d like to catch some sleep before the game.”

“Game?”

“Yeah, we’re basketball players,” one of the men announced belligerently, weight forward on the balls of his feet as though daring Dean to make something of it.

“Okay.”

“They’re the Southern Ontario Midget Basketball champs,” the young woman announced proudly. “I’m their manager, Aurora King.”

Dean shook her hand.“Pleased to meet you.”

“We have an exhibition game this evening at the community center.” Leaning toward him, she dropped her voice and added, “If you can knock a little off your room rates, I’m sure I can score you some tickets.”

To a midget basketball game.Were people even allowed to say midget anymore? Dean wondered. Although all things considered, he had to assume Ms. King would know the politically correct…label? Word? Description? Realizing she was waiting for his answer, he shrugged. “Uh, sure.”

“Come on, come on, enough of the chitchat,” yawned a member of the team. “I’m so tired I’m going to sack out right here.”

“Low blood sugar,” snorted the young man standing beside him.

“Premed,” Aurora murmured as Dean pushed the registry toward her. “He diagnoses everything. Drives us nuts.” Her voice rose back to more generally audible levels. “You guys work out who’s sleeping where and with who.”

A strangled cough drew everyone’s attention to a redhead blushing almost the exact same shade as his hair.

“Lord fucking save us, the new guy’s shy,” muttered the first player who’d spoken.

Teasing the new guy kept everyone amused while Dean finished the paperwork and reached for the keys.“I’d just like to point out that there’s no smoking in the rooms.”

The entire team turned to stare at a diminutive blond.

He pushed short dreadlocks back off his face and shrugged.“Hey, man, I’m cool. No mellow the day of a game. I know the rules.”