Hotel Hex (2 page)

“No complaints. You don’t even breathe.” She moved away.

Nick remained staring at the painting. A frown furrowed his brow.                                                        

“
Out! Out! Out!
” One of Jazz’s bags rocked back and forth until it fell to one side. The zipper slid open and two fuzzy bunny slippers slipped out. Magick flared red hot as Fluff and Puff crawled across the Aubusson carpet. Their coughs sounded as if they’d each lost a lung. Instead, balls of black mucus-covered fur rolled out between their razor-sharp teeth.

“Eww!” Jazz pointed at the offending objects and torched them.

“You couldn’t let us out first?” Puff growled, the more defiant of the two. His ears swiveled back and forth as he looked around. “Whoa! Did we do a Marty McFly and go back in time?”

“Not totally,” she told him, as she unzipped her muddy boots and wiggled her chilled toes. She picked up the slippers and set them on the bed. They chortled happily as they bounced up and down on the mattress.

“Wow, this room looks really old. The spa better be
très
modern. I could really use an ear reflexology massage,” Fluff commented. He stared at the fireplace while he was midair in a bounce. “Hey, dude! Whattya doin’ in there?” 

Jazz spun around to face the fireplace. Instead of whatever her bunny slipper saw she only beheld orange-red flames burning merrily away. She snapped her fingers to bank the blaze. Fires and vampires weren’t a good duo. She preferred Nick to not be turned into a crispy critter.

“There was someone in the fireplace,” the slipper insisted, but no one was listening.  

“Flames always look like there are faces in them. And, unfortunately, there’s no spa,” Jazz said as she picked up her make-up bag and carried it into the bathroom. She cast a quick look of approval at the large claw foot tub then she returned to the bedroom to hang her clothing up. Once finished she opened Nick’s bag. She held up a garnet shadow stripe shirt. “Umm, I love it when you get all dressed up.” She walked over to where he stood taking in the view from a window and kissed his cheek.

“And I love it when you’re not dressed at all.” He nuzzled her neck in return.

“Gross! Not in front of the bunnies!” Fluff and Puff shrieked, burying themselves under the stack of pillows.  “Ewww!”

Jazz froze as the faintest of sounds reached her ears. ‘Nick.” She pushed at him, which was like pushing a concrete pillar. “Nick!”

He lazily lifted his head. “I thought we were having a romantic moment.”

She frowned at him. “Did you hear that, too?” As if there was any doubt since his vampire hearing was way better than hers.

He nodded. “It’s an old house. You have to expect to hear odd noises. There’s more than our share in your house. Oh wait, that’s the slippers having gas.” He tried to return to kisses and cuddles but the mood was gone as far as Jazz was concerned.

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross, Nick. Really gross. I know Mrs. Babbington said the place is haunted and rumors of a curse. For all we know she’s right and it is cursed.” She carefully climbed onto the bed and gingerly stood up with her legs braced. “Although I should have sensed it if there were any curses around,” the champion curse eliminator spoke without arrogance.

“This is
not
how I expected to see you on that bed.” But he still stood next to the mattress ready to catch her in case she lost her balance.

She cautiously rose up on her toes and splayed her fingertips a breath away from the painted ceiling. Whatever was up there was something she’d never dare touch.

“What the fuck?” Nick muttered, watching ceiling ripple as if reaching out to Jazz’s fingers. “
Get off there now
!” He reached for her.

Jazz hissed as something shot off the ceiling’s surface and raced down her body. For a moment she swore sparks flew out her toes. She uttered a few choice swear words as she jerked her hands away and stared at her blackened fingertips. She blew healing magick on them, waving her hands in the air until they returned to their natural color with manicure blissfully intact.

“I don’t know what’s up there, but whatever it is feels nasty. Not friendly at all. I hate to think what would have happened if I’d made actual contact.” She dropped down onto the covers, bouncing a couple times on the springy mattress. Nick took her hands and pulled her off the bed. He frowned as he held onto her hands a second longer.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing his interest.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Something odd, but nothing I can explain.”

“Sounds like this place more and more.” She was relieved to see the skin of her fingertips turn a healthy pink again. “We need to have a chat with Mrs. Babbington and see just what’s going on in this place.”

“Is it safe?” Fluff asked, cautiously venturing out from under the pillow. One of Puff’s ears appeared from the fabric folds then disappeared again.

“Yes,” Jazz told him.

“It might be a good idea to leave the ceilings alone,” Nick said, walking into the bathroom with his toiletry bag.

“That’s the thing, I didn’t make contact. Make sure your toothbrush is far enough away from mine that you don’t use mine … by accident,” she raised her voice as she placed folded clothing in the chest of drawers.

“Sweetheart, considering where my mouth has been in the past I’d…” he stopped the second he saw the
don’t go there
look on her face. “Not that I’m using that as an excuse. My bad.”

Fluff snickered. “Witchwhipped.” One look at Nick’s rapidly reddening eyes had him running for the stack of bed pillows.

She noticed his dark expression when he returned to the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Something strange in there. If I didn’t know better I’d swear someone was watching me from the mirror. And yes, I looked but didn’t see anything or anyone in there.”

“And that bothers you? It’s not like you go in there to pee or anything,” she reminded him with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t mean I want to be spied on when I take a shower.”

Jazz fell backwards onto the bed. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll protect you if a sexy female ghost shows up in the shower. Or…” a wicked grin curved her lips, “I can get Irma here. She’d protect you in a second.” She mentioned the elderly spirit that had ridden shotgun in her vintage T-Bird convertible for decades. “I bet she’d even offer to wash your … back.”

Nick closed his eyes and groaned. “Damn, Jazz! That’s not a picture I want in my head.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry, my love. Your virtue is safe on that score. I haven’t sensed any ghosts in the building.”

“But you’re not real strong when it comes to sensing the living-challenged,” he reminded her.

“True, but I’m sure I’d sense something. If I’m wrong maybe the show happens as part of tonight’s entertainment. We’ll have sightings of ghosts, clanking chains and moaning in the hallway.”

Nick shook his head, muttering uncomplimentary words about a witch’s sick sense of humor as he walked back into the parlor. Fluff and Puff slid off the bed and scooted after him.

“Jazz! There’s scary stuff in here!” they shouted. “We want to go to the Beverly Hills Hotel!”

“I live with wusses,” she muttered, going after them.

“It’s nasty!” Fluff insisted, glaring at the wall as if arms would appear and pull them through.

“Wallpaper shouldn’t give off a dangerous vibe,” Nick said. 

Jazz stood behind him and peered over his shoulder. At first glance, the old-fashioned wall covering looked like off-white silk-embossed roses that swirled. She moved around him for a closer inspection. Now she could see the floral design was really tiny skulls with mouths wide open in silent screams.

“I’ve been in a lot of castles in Europe and I don’t recall any of them displaying wallpaper like that. The usual designs are roses or
fleur de lis
. What in Hades does a monstrosity like this have to do with European old world elegance? It’s unsettling enough now. How could anyone have looked at this a hundred years ago?” Nick shook his head, keeping a safe distance from the wall. “I’ll admit it. I made a mistake with this hotel. We’ve been here barely fifteen minutes and I already regret accepting their invitation.”  

Jazz understood his disturbed feelings. She was feeling pretty uneasy too. To distract her thoughts she walked around the room. She picked up a fragile Limoges porcelain box and examined it. “It just means someone has bad taste in wallpaper. You still have to say the owner spared no expense in decorating the rooms. Did you see that Ming vase in the lobby? There’s no doubt it’s an original.”

“It’s obvious the hotel intends to attract the high-end clientele,” Nick said.

“If they want high-end, they better install a spa facility,” Jazz said. 

“The Beverly Hills Hotel has a very nice spa,” Fluff and Puff piped up in unison from their hiding place on the bed. “They even give us ear massages and use that yummy smelling conditioner when they bathe us.”

“Facials. Massage. Mani/pedi,” the witch murmured with a sigh.

“Did you ever think someone might want to go to a hotel for quiet relaxation?” Nick settled into a nearby chair.

“Relaxation is a day at the spa complete with Swiss and Belgian chocolates on your pillow,” she pointed out.

He smiled as he waved the brochure in front of him. “While here they have relaxation as in badminton, croquet, lawn darts. High tea. Gourmet meals. No Wi Fi or TV though. Krebs would be tearing out his hair. So tell me, Jazz, what would you like to do first?”

She gifted him with a wicked smile. That was a no-brainer in her book. “The cocktail hour isn’t until 5:30, so why don’t we just take it easy until then?” she purred, lifting her hands to her top.

Nick rose to his feet and walked toward her with the liquid grace that proclaimed him a vampire.

“That’s an excellent idea.” He grinned at her squeal as he picked her up and draped her over his shoulder, walking into the bedroom.

The slippers took one look at them and raced back to the parlor. 

Jazz and Nick were so engrossed with each other they didn’t notice a leering face watching them from the midst of the gentle flames in the bedroom’s fireplace. 

Chapter 2

“Does this hotel understand your dietary needs?” Jazz asked, as she slicked on a glossy coral lip color to match the coral silk hip length cardi that topped her short navy lace dress. Her coral peeptoe pumps revealed her ankle bracelet with its gold broomstick charm with the amethyst twinkling from the broom handle. A moonstone pendant nestled among intricate gold rings and matching earrings were her jewelry. She made up her eyes, the color of fresh moss, to their best advantage.

She stared at her vampire lover and wanted to push him back onto the bed again. Instead, she followed him out of the suite.

Nick with his brown hair without its usual disorder and piercing coffee colored eyes was devastating whether clothed or naked. Black fine wool slacks and a cream colored shirt with narrow charcoal stripes and charcoal sport coat had him looking very mouthwatering. 

“They assured me that wasn’t a problem.” He brushed a kiss behind her ear.

Jazz had no worry about the safety of her veins. A witch’s blood was poisonous, if not deadly, to a vampire’s so they never shared blood.             

Once downstairs, they followed the sound of voices.

“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked, when she noticed Nick’s tip of the head.

Nick paused. “I sense five heartbeats. One of them is Mrs. Babbington.”

“I wonder when the other guests showed up.” She picked up the pace until she stood in the doorway. She viewed three women and one man residing in a loveseat and easy chairs.              

“Ah, Ms. Tremaine. Mr. Gregory.” Mrs. Babbington glided forward at a pace much lighter than seemed possible, considering her round shape. She wrapped her hands around Jazz’s arm and managed to move her forward a step. “Please come in and meet our other guests,” she invited in a low voice. “Well known travel writer Derwood Grantham, I’m sure you know of him.” She motioned at the only other man in the room. “He chronicles haunted hotels and homes across the nation. And over here,” she turned to gesture at the last two women, “we have world famous opera singer Beatrice Fairfield, and celebutante psychic, Sylvie Vandemeer.”

“That’s quite a mix of guests,” Nick commented.

“It’s wonderful we have such a nice mix for our first guests,” she replied with enthusiasm. “They’re all very excited to be a part of this. With the two of you here I’m sure it will be a success.” 

“I don’t know what you expect of our presence here, Mrs. Babbington. Please tell me that Jazz and I weren’t invited because of what we are. We’re not known to perform parlor tricks,” he stated with steel in his voice. He felt the slight pressure of Jazz’s hand resting against his spine. A deep breath didn’t cool his temper, but it lowered it a bit.

Mrs. Babbington looked surprised. “Oh no, my dear, that is not it at all. The owner thought for the first weekend it would be lovely to have a variety of guests who are interested in the supernatural. Some smaller hotels have done that with great success. With the hotel’s somewhat unusual history it was natural to do the same. If it goes well we could plan other events such as murder mystery weekends, an 1880s gala, and Regency balls.”

Jazz moved until she stood by Nick’s side. “So this is just a weekend of talking about the supernatural. Or are you looking for proof that the hotel is truly haunted?” she said in a low voice.  

“In a way. The building has been deemed to be haunted, but there have been no sightings yet. The workmen were understandably nervous during the renovations, even if nothing too alarming happened,” she whispered. “Only tools disappearing then appearing. Problems with the electricity and water. More like small disturbances. Yet there have been enough stories to suggest there might be more going on here than meets the eye.”

“And of course there’s Zorak,” Nick pointed out. “You can’t tell me that’s a trick of Hollywood make up.”