Hotel Hex (11 page)

“But wouldn’t this stone pick up on whatever is in the house?” he asked, tucking the stone in his jacket pocket.

“It’s not infused with her blood. That’s a point for our side.” She mentally ran through her knowledge of earth magick. She really should have listened more during those classes in the Witches Academy! “And if her blood heightened the spell—maybe, her blood can negate it,” she said to herself.

“Are you talking about killing her?” Derwood asked.

Jazz looked back at Nick. Any trepidation at facing down a sorceress who was much older than her and definitely more powerful disappeared in a flash.
              “Yes,” she said simply.

Chapter 11

“This is a very bad idea,” Jazz muttered, starting down the hallway. Except she seemed to walk forever. Her first inclination was to slam her palm against the wall to see what would happen. But a mirror that suddenly appeared over a small table showed she’d aged a good thirty years. More silver in her hair and, was that a
wattle
?

The three of you will complete me. Oh Griet, you are like a fine chocolate.
Amira’s voice purred inside her head.
I had no idea witches carried so much power. You have gifts you haven’t even tapped into yet. Never fear. I will make use of all you’ve ignored.

Jazz ground her molars. “You’ve turned really annoying.”

She yelped when blood flowed down the walls.

“Is that all you’ve got? The effects were better in
The Shining
.” She sidestepped the red flood and headed for the back stairs. She was determined to find that mystery door in the attic.

“I can’t let you go up there, Miss Jazz,” Zorak stood guard at the narrow door to the stairs. The zombie looked properly apologetic as he blocked the way. His roving eye rolled even more, threatening to fall out of the socket.

“Which means I do need to go up there,” she told him. “Zorak, you know things are very wrong here. I need to make them right before the rest of us die.”

He shifted from one boat-sized foot to the other. “Amira’s powerful and you don’t got no magick now.”

“I still have a brain.”
Says the scarecrow.

“Smarts don’t help with her. Only magick. Hers is black as midnight,” he said.

Jazz shook her head and pushed past him. “I know you won’t hurt me, Zorak,” she said over her shoulder, as she climbed the steep stairs. The candle sconces were unlit but she had a faint light from the opening that guided her steps. She still ascended carefully. The last thing she wanted was to fall backwards down these stairs and break something important.

Within a couple steps she felt a suffocating closeness as the air seemed to be sucked out of the stairway.

I admire your bravery, Griet
. Amira’s voice sounded overhead again.
That is the only reason I am allowing you to make your very short journey. You amuse me.

“Yeah, well, you can just kiss my Religion Jeans ass,” she muttered, breathing shallowly even as her head spun from the thinning air.

I am going to like the modern world. It is so colorful.

A warm dry breeze moved through the air, bringing to mind distant deserts and exotic spices. Jazz imagined she could even hear the excited babble in a marketplace and lyrical instruments.

You have no chance to win. But I must admit you are not boring.

Jazz panted. “How anyone can like an elliptical machine is beyond me,” she gasped, daring to look up. The steps in the shadows seemed to go on forever. “Note to self. Join a gym.”

You won’t live long enough.

“Do me a favor, Amira, and shut up,” she snarled. “Maybe I’m amusing you, but you’re annoying the Hades out of me. May the Fates show you just what happens to power hungry sorceresses who think they can rule the world.”

Jazz was beginning to think she wouldn’t make the top floor before she passed out for lack of air. It had grown thin with a hint of an odd smell. She really hoped she wouldn’t find any bloody bodies up there.

But knowing Amira as she did, she knew to expect the unexpected.

The door at the top of the stairs appeared so quickly she slammed into it. Nursing her bruised nose, she twisted the doorknob but it refused to turn.

“Oh no, I’m not stopping now. If it worked once…” She carefully retreated a step, pushed against the walls and kicked out. The door flew open, releasing bats. “
Augh
!” Jazz did what she hated the most. She screamed like a girl and waved her hands at them as they streaked past her. “Ugh.” She ducked her head and ran through the open door. The moment she did, it slammed shut.

As they say, welcome to my world.

At first, Jazz saw nothing different. Tiny rooms made up as a nursery, a child’s bedroom, nanny’s room, and rooms for the maids. The air was stifling and dusty. She kept her hand over her nose and mouth.

Except as she peered into each room she realized things weren’t right. Just enough off to bother her. The moment she stood in a doorway candles sprang to life, illuminating the area in golden light that wasn’t comforting.

A cradle created of rotting wood managed to look sturdy enough for a baby. Tattered bed linens, paintings on the wall showing disturbing images of children with blood-smeared mouths, large dark eyes, and playing games with bones and what she knew to be baneful magickal instruments.

Jazz affected a major yawn when a baby’s shrieking cry pierced the air.

“Big deal. I’ve seen and heard better special effects at the movies,” she said just before she walked into a wall that hadn’t been there a moment ago. She swore under her breath and rubbed her injured nose again before turning in a new direction.

She kept Zorak’s words about a secret door in mind as she carefully explored each room, even going so far as to carefully tap her knuckles against the walls. Every door revealed another empty room. Nothing to show her what other secrets Amira might be hiding. Suddenly, a tiny flicker of awareness sent her severely limited senses on high alert.

There.

She held her breath, keeping her focus on what seemed to be another maid’s room. The moment she turned her head the door was gone. A few blinks confirmed her suspicions. She could only see it out of the corner of her eye.

“Hidden in plain sight,” she murmured, moving sideways in order to keep the secret door in her inadequate field of vision. “Damn her for dampening my power.” She continued sliding her feet to the left until she knew she stood in front of an entry she couldn’t see unless she very slowly turned her head.

Mindful of her exposed back, she stealthily reached out and touched… nothing. Not even a warning spark met her fingertips.

“Damn!” Jazz breathed in through her nose several times and wiped her hand along the side of her jeans. “Door I cannot see. Door I cannot feel. Please show me what should be. Reveal the entry to me. Because I say so damn it!”

She didn’t expect anything to happen since her magick was kaput, but chanting helped her pretend she still had her power.

Her eyes widened as a faint tremor of light shimmered in front of her then abruptly winked out. It was just enough to show her what she needed.

“Yes!” She punched her arm up then down in victory and reached out again. This time her fingertips made contact with an elaborate knob and it easily turned.

When Jazz pushed the door open, an exotic scent filled with rare spices and heavy warmth flowed toward her like a smothering blanket. It could have been her imagination, but she was positive she once again heard the faint mournful sound of a flute drifting in the air and frenzied voices from an ancient bazaar.

Jazz stood in the doorway taking in the room before she stepped inside. There had to be traps laid all through it. With her deadened senses she had to rely on her wits.

“Nick would be good at this. Think like a vampire PI.” She scrunched her nose, carefully noting the corners then the ceiling. “Hmm. Interesting. No cobwebs, no dust. And a major lack of furniture. So why was the room hidden?” She snapped her fingers. “Because something important is hidden up here. She couldn’t make it easy with a glowing arrow and a sign ‘What you seek is here’?”

She blew out a breath and took a tentative step forward. When nothing happened she took another.

Jazz tried using what skills she had and realized one direction had the room turning chilled and even turning dark, while a careful step in the other way returned the warmth and faint music.

“Let’s try the warm part first.” She carefully set one foot in front of the other as she moved to that part of the room. Nothing happened.

But Jazz knew magick had a habit of throwing you a curveball.

Just then cold traveled in her direction, sending a bone-chilling sensation throughout her body. She exhaled, watching her breath form frosty puffs in the air. She yelped as her gloves seemed to suddenly be crafted from ice. She quickly pulled them off and dropped them.

“Let’s not make it too easy for the witch, shall we? Why let her go where it’s warm and comfy when we can throw her into a deepfreeze.” She tucked her icy hands into her armpits and slid her feet further into the wintry part of the room.

She blinked rapidly, hoping to see more than with ink-colored walls. She was positive wasn’t empty even if the room appeared empty. 

“It has to be here.” She pursed her lips puffing out circles of cold air.

Was the room starting to look a little lighter? Not like a candle had just been lit, but the kind of light that signaled dawn coming even if the walls were still dark.

“If there is something here, will you show yourself to me?” Jazz whispered her plea. “Will you allow me to save those still in this house? Let no more blood be shed.” While she couldn’t infuse her words with magick, she could layer them with sincerity.

She tentatively rested her fingertips against the wall closest to her. When she pulled them back, the faintest of glows outlined her fingers.

She smiled. “Maybe trying to drain Nick wasn’t such a good idea. Vampires might not have the power she needs and it’s screwing with her,” she murmured. “And it could be why my magick is starting to return since I bet mine wouldn’t help her all that much either. Trouble is, if I don’t find what I need before she finishes draining off Derwood and regains her full power I could end up toast real fast.”

Jazz faced the wall, staring at the shining images. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly in and out. No magick of her own yet nor had her extra senses returned. She smiled.

“But I have intuition,” she murmured, keeping her eyes closed, allowing the room’s atmosphere to seep into her pores. “What are you hiding here?” She dared not speak Amira’s name for fear it would awaken her. She breathed in and out deeply, allowing her mind to settle into a Zen state.

Blood infused into the walls. Whatever keeps her going has to be there. Easy access. Be grateful the place doesn’t smell like blood or you’d be yakking up the little food you’ve had to eat since you arrived here.

All of a sudden the room fell into complete darkness. Jazz cursed under her breath.

“What I wouldn’t give for some good old-fashioned witchflame,” she muttered, keeping her outspread hands a breath away from the walls as she moved around the room. She wished for a way to know how much time she had. Frustration already reared its ugly head, but she had no idea how much time remained.

She moved a few more steps to her right. Jazz stared intently at the surface that shimmered for a micro-second then returned to a matte color.

“Rubber gloves would be nice right about now.” She grimaced as she pulled her sleeves over her hands then tentatively touched the wall. And gagged as the spongy barrier pressed inward.

Jazz jumped backwards so swiftly she had to windmill her arms so she wouldn’t fall.

A tray set waist-high slid out of the wall and stopped just in front of her. At the same time, light the color of fresh blood bathed the room, revealing iridescent sigils set into the walls, floor, and ceiling.

A carved chest resting on the shelf gave off a malevolent glow while its sides appeared to pulse like a heartbeat. The longer she stared at the ominous container the faster the pulsing motions were. A shattering howl echoed in the room threatening her hearing.

“This is not good.”

Chapter 12

“You should not have succeeded in reaching my inner sanctum!” The brittle voice slashed at her like glass shards. “You have no magick. There is no way you should have made it this far.”

Jazz spun around to face what she first thought was a large crow. The entity in front of her was the color of midnight with wavering shadows about the edges and a hint of sharp wings that slashed at her face. She quickly averted her face, but flinched as something razor-edged brushed across her skin. 

“I’m curious like that,” she replied. “I wanted to see what was behind the Door Number Three.” She felt her knees start to buckle from the expanding power coming from the chest.

Jazz finally figured out what Zorak’s words meant. Amira’s power encased in the stones wasn’t enough for her. She was stockpiling anything she could in the mysterious chest.

And that could mean, like Pandora, the chest opening could create something so monstrous Jazz’s world could end up in shambles.

Why do I have to clean things up?
She stifled her sigh.

Amira’s exotically beautiful features shifted into a terrifying mask of unearthly horror. Her black gown was edged with red that flowed back and forth. Jazz realized she was looking at blood that had become a part of the fabric. The sorceress’s face was all sharp angles while her waist-length hair waved about her head, the strands thickening and writhing ala Medusa. Her eyes flared a bright orange, sending a crippling wave of heat at Jazz.

The witch refused to bow under the massive burst of power that flowed over and around her. She locked her knees and remained standing when all she wanted to do was drop to the floor in the fetal position and wrap her arms over her head.