Hotel Hex (4 page)

Silver was dangerous to vampires, but Nick was of an age that he could handle the metal a bit easier. And in time the mark would fully heal. Until then, he had an unwelcome souvenir from the psychic.

“She was looking for a reaction to her petty tantrum,” he told her. “Besides, we’ll have the whole weekend. I’m sure you can come up with something suitable for her. And if not, Blair can give you some ideas.” He mentioned Jazz’s witchy friend well known for her revenge spells.

“Oh, I’ll come up with something suitable all right,” she snarled, running her fingers along the mural painted on the hallway wall. “Did you notice anything strange during dinner?”

“Nothing other than faint shifts in the air. It didn’t feel like any kind of magick I’ve sensed before. Why?” He unlocked their door and followed her inside. Needing more sustenance, Nick headed for the table holding liquor bottles.

“Just that the food wasn’t as appetizing as it looked.”

“So that’s why you skipped dessert.” He carried his brandy to a nearby chair.

“Rugs are bad!” Fluff and Puff complained. “Allergies.” They coughed loudly, tiny spirals of smoke escaping their razor-sharp toothed mouths as they lay sprawled in the middle of the parlor. “Need something to drink. Something to eat,” they whined in unison, rolling onto their backs with ears twitching madly.

“Don’t start. I know that room service was ordered for you two,” she said.

“Nobody brought us any food,” Puff argued.

Jazz paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t notice the outline of a grinning face sketched in the fireplace flames. The fiery mouth opened and a forked and charred tongue flicked in her direction.

“I don’t care what Mrs. Babbington says. This is not your everyday normal hotel hosting a so-called supernatural weekend complete with a fog machine and sound effects. There’s something odd going on around here,” she said, stealing his snifter and sipping the potent liqueur. He held up his hand and without looking she settled it back in his palm. “So why can’t I feel anything here?”

“Maybe it’s not a curse. It could just be a very old house with a colorful background,” he said, willing to offer up suggestions even though he knew she could also choose to ignore them at the drop of a broom. “Or even some ghosts from its beginning. If the stones were brought over from Europe you know there could be some dark history there.”

“So why can’t I feel anything? It doesn’t even feel like a dead zone.” She shook her head. She walked over to the wall and placed her palm against the surface. She studied the wallpaper. This time it shifted into dark colors like a lava flow. Before she could react the wall covering returned to its Victorian splendor.

Jazz turned back then froze. “Wait a minute.” She gestured to the small table that held a delicate crystal vase. “This rosebud was red when we arrived.” She picked up the vase that held a dead bloom with black and brittle petals. One petal drifted to the table surface and immediately turned to ash. In the blink of an eye even that was gone.

Nick cocked an eyebrow. “Looks like our romantic weekend is turning into more mystery than paranormal.”

“Just call me Nancy Drew.” She went into the bedroom and opened up the old-fashioned armoire. She quickly changed from her dress to a pair of charcoal gray skinny jeans and cobalt knit top. She paused and stared at the armoire’s wood front after she closed it. “I should take pictures of the rooms. When we arrived the furniture in here was cherry. Now it’s mahogany.” She pulled out her cell and snapped pictures of the furniture. She frowned as she glanced at the images. “They’re blurry.” She held her phone up to show her vampire partner.

“Then there’s magick somewhere around here. It’s never worked well with technology. Be grateful it’s not Samhain. Who knows what would show up then.” Nick leaned against the bedroom doorjamb, enjoying the view as she changed her clothes. “Shouldn’t you be considering something more comfortable for bed? I vote for sheer and skimpy unless you’d rather go for
au natural
.” He was nothing if not hopeful.

Jazz shot him
the
look. She sat on the bed and leaned back against the plumped up pillows. “I want to take a look around after the others have gone to bed. Considering it’s going on midnight, I should be safe.” 

“
We
will take a look around,” he corrected her. He stilled as he glanced toward the free standing full length mirror. The reflective surface suddenly rippled. A blood and gore covered face drifted up from the foggy surface, its mouth rounded in a silent scream.

“What the—?” Jazz shot upright and raised a hand that flared with her magick in case the face escaped the mirror. Just as quickly, the horrendous image was gone and the mirror returned to normal. If she could call a haunted mirror normal.  

Nick glared at the mirror. “Talk about a mood breaker.”

Jazz gulped. “No kidding.” She climbed off the bed and headed for the wall. “It might be something that Maggie deals with, but not me.” She took a deep breath and used her fingertips to turn the wood-framed mirror around to face the wall.  “No reason for me to ask who’s the fairest of them all.”

Chapter 4

“Nick, we need your phone,” Puff announced, using magick to fly onto the bed with his partner in crime close behind.

“No.”

They turned to the vampire who slowly shook his head back and forth. “The last time you got hold of my phone you purchased several hundred dollars in apps. And you got me addicted to Angry Birds and Bubble Birds.”

“All those apps were important.” Fluff’s ears swiveled from one direction to the other. “Come on, please? We need to Tweet and update our Facebook page. Beg someone to come save us.” He glared at Nick. “And you can’t tell me you’re not using all those awesome game apps. How about yours?” He turned to Jazz.

“Not when you lost my last phone,” the witch said. “Besides, we can’t get a signal here.” She ignored their distressed cries. She glanced at her watch. “Later than I thought.” She looked at her fuzzy footwear that bumped around her legs. “Stay here while we’re gone.”  

“You’re leaving us again?” The bunny slippers wailed. “It’s boring here!”

“So sorry, but I’m already wearing shoes,” she told them with a smile and closed the door on them.

Jazz looked right and left. Nick was hot on her heels as, with a stealth worthy of James Bond, they inched their way along the passage.

Don’t touch the walls
, Nick’s warning was clear inside her mind. She glanced at him then the walls that seemed to be closing in on them.

I wasn’t planning on it.

The elegant gold leaf
fleur de lis
design now resembled grasping hands. It was all too easy to imagine how easily those hands could pull them into the wall. Only the Fates knew where they’d end up.

Old memories of a friend who’d experienced the horror of being trapped inside a wall where monsters not even seen in nightmares tormented her for weeks momentarily plagued Jazz. For a moment she entertained the idea of taking Nick back to their suite. There they’d order up some wine, a bowl of fresh berries and conjure up some scented massage oil to make the evening complete.

She quickly shook off the sensual images that flooded her imagination and encouraged her to drag her vamp honey bunny back to their room for fun and games. She swallowed a sigh of regret and continued on. 

Ambling behind her Nick paused at every room door and carefully placed his palm against the surface.

“No one in these rooms. What’s your plan, Sherlock?” he asked for her ears only.

“It’s late enough we shouldn’t run into anyone. We need to check out the building when there’s no one around to look over our shoulders.” She bypassed the elevator and headed for the back stairs she knew was relegated to the staff.

“So basically there’s no plan and you’re playing it by ear.”

“You betcha.” She ignored his sigh as she took the first step upwards. “Considering the age of this place, the third floor would have housed the nursery and rooms for the maids then there’d be the attic above that. I wonder if they set them as lesser priced rooms.” She held up her palm. “Light be mine. Illumination be kind. Show us the way, because I say so damn it!” A flame popped up from her hand and floated in front of her. While Nick had no trouble seeing in the dark, she needed the extra help since the stairs didn’t even boast night lights. “I was wrong. They haven’t done anything up here.” She gestured at the abrupt transition from elegant wallpaper to an unpainted surface and bare wood floor.

“We could check out the attic tomorrow.” Nick’s hand was comforting against the small of her back as they reached the third floor.

“Not if it’s a sunny day. That means you’ll be in the land of the sleeping undead. Let’s hope it’s cloudy so you can stay awake.” Jazz was grateful for her magick lamp as she realized there weren’t even sconces up here. “No luxuries for the help. You’d be bringing up a candle,” she murmured.

“Exactly how long were you a parlor maid in that barrister’s home?”

She shot Nick her patented ‘stake you’ look. “We don’t discuss that time, remember?”

They peeked in each room, finding the nursery still filled with appropriate furniture for children, a tiny classroom, and bedroom. All the furniture was covered with dust cloths. Further down the hall that led to the rear of the house were rooms more the size of cubicles.

“Anything making your skin crawl?” Nick went on and glanced into the rearmost rooms.

Jazz’s nose twitched. “Not unless you count the smell.”

“Dead rats.”

“And a hint of sulfur mixed with must and mildew.” She swiped her finger along the top of a doorway and came away with a tip dark with dust. “It’s not exactly the lavender or vanilla potpourri we smell downstairs.”  She turned in a small circle.

“Think about it, Jazz.” Nick grasped her shoulders when she turned to face him. “You need a plan. You can’t just wander through the house hoping something will jump out at you and scream ‘boo!’ because odd things are going on.”

She chewed on her lower lip.

“No.” He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and brought her against him. “I told you, you just need a plan.”

“Then do what you do best, Mr. Private Investigator, and help me,” she begged, burying her face against his shirt front. “We saw faces in the flames and there were nasty bugs in my food that only I could see. The walls change color and even Mrs. Babbington’s jewelry changed from one stone to another. Odd things are going on that don’t make any sense. My first thought would be it must be a curse, but I don’t feel even a hint of one,” she grumbled, perturbed because she couldn’t easily explain it.

“Then it’s not a curse, is it?” he said simply, brushing his lips across the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her, offering her the security of his embrace. “You need to remember that things aren’t always what you think they are. Maybe for once it’s not magick at work, but special effects for their Supernatural Weekend.”

Jazz linked her arms around his waist and inhaled the faint scent of his skin.

“Come on, gorgeous.” He dropped a kiss along her hairline. “Let’s head for bed.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “That’s a plan I can go for.”

Neither was aware of the walls rippling with a dark life of their own as the couple returned to their suite.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Babbington chirped as she passed by with an elegant silver coffee carafe in her hand. “We have a lovely breakfast buffet set up in the dining room. If your, ah, footwear would like something I can send a tray up for them.” She looked beyond the witch. “Will Mr. Gregory be joining us or is he …?”

She nodded. “Nick will be down in a bit. Fluff and Puff would appreciate some breakfast. Just a word of warning. They’re not in to greens.”

Jazz entered the dining room and stared at the array of pastries along with a variety of breakfast foods. She soon had a plate covered with goodies and filled a cup with rich dark coffee. 

“My that’s quite a bit of food you have there, Jazz,” Sylvie purred. “I once heard that witches have high metabolisms. But I still wonder if some day it might not catch up with you. There’s not much exercise involved in curse banishing, is there? If I tried to eat like that, my personal trainer would have me running up hills all day and I still wouldn’t burn a fraction of what you have on that plate.”

Jazz’s smile wasn’t friendly.
It’s official. I don’t like her.

“It must be horrible to suffer weight problems,” she cooed. “I’ve read that too vigorous dieting can lead to major skin problems and that even spray tans can react badly after awhile.” Her gaze landed on Sylvie’s bare shoulder that suddenly displayed a spot in an odd shade of orange. She was pleased the young woman hadn’t noticed it yet. She was positive Sylvie would soon since Jazz doubted the other woman had ever met a mirror she didn’t want to stop and admire herself in.

“Good morning,” she chirped at the others, seating herself at the table. She paused for a second, allowing her senses to spill out. Luckily, there weren’t any creepy-crawlies on the plates this time.

“Did anyone feel as if there was something moving around in their rooms last night?” Derwood asked. “When I woke up I swear it looked as if the walls shifted. But then the building does have an extensive dark history, so nothing should surprise me.”

“Really? How dark and how extensive?” Jazz asked curiously. 

“Very,” the man replied. “Once I learned that Stonegate Manor was holding a Supernatural Weekend I thought I would do some research into the house’s history. I learned the building was fashioned from stones brought over from Scotland,” he intoned. “The original edifice was a twelfth century Scottish castle that had a bloody and evil past. It seems Laird Manfred had an unholy thirst for young women. It was known that if they were brought to his Keep, they didn’t return home. Not that any of his serfs complained, of course, because if they did they weren’t seen or heard from again either.”