Miss Spell's Hotel Page 3

  "You killed a vampire," she tried to reiterate.

  "In self-defense!"

  "There are rules, Miss Spell."

  "IN SELF-DEFENSE!"

  "Where is your proof?"

  I turned to the window just as the sun came over the horizon.

  I had none.

  My evidence was turning into a dust bunny as we spoke.

  Miss Trudy stood up, obviously done with this conversation. She dug around her bag. "I am sorry. I tried to make you see the support the sisterhood offers you, but you are beyond our help. You are showing dark tendencies and you must be stopped before you turn on the living." She pulled out a long, gnarly wand and pointed it at me. "By all the powers invested in me, I rebuke you and revoke your powers for one year."

  A blue light shot out from the tip of her stick and struck my chest.

  "NO!" It felt like ice water poured on my soul. The fire that burned in my heart was gone. I held my hands up before my eyes, aghast by their... normalness.

  She gave the fact she had robbed me of everything I held dear no more weight than checking off an item on her to-do list. With nonchalance, she tucked everything back into her sack. "We hope after a little cooling off, you'll see the necessity of my actions."

  That witch stole my powers! She didn't even care that I was defending myself! I killed a vampire and that meant a nest of his brethren were going to have a few questions for me, and I wouldn't have the magic to beat them back.

  I tried to still the panic rising in my throat. I tried to remind myself that vampires could only come across my threshold if I invited them and those thresholds stood whether a person had powers or they didn’t.

  "I am going to need you to hand over your broomstick." Miss Trudy shook her head as she noted my distress. "I'm on your side, Miss Spell."

  "You just banned me from using magic," I spat.

  "To prevent you from making another horrific mistake," she tutted. She walked over to the mantel. My broom, a beauty with a hand-tied straw brush and carved mahogany shaft, was mounted above. She took it down. "I am repossessing this on behalf of the coven."

  "You can't!" I gasped in horror. She was taking my broom!

  "It is illicit contraband."

  "No!"

  "You're lucky I allowed you to keep your form and didn't change you into a frog to serve out your sentence. If you go around killing guests without evidence that it was done in self-defense, you're going to have a lot more worries than me. The coven can't align themselves with a wicked witch."

  It was like she had slapped me across my face. "I am not a..." It was such a dirty accusation I had to hiss it under my breath, "wicked witch."

  "That is what it looks like to outside eyes," Miss Trudy told me. "Unwilling to take responsibility for your actions? Working outside the bounds of the coven? Doing the goddess knows what with the undead in your upper rooms. It doesn't look good. This will at least inform the community we have taken steps to curtail your decline. It keeps up appearances. In six months everyone will have forgotten it happened."

  "Because I will be dead," I stated. "You might as well have transformed me into a human being. I'm as defenseless as one. I should just hang a sign in the window saying 'Free Blood Bag' because that's all I'm good for right now."

  "You created all the drama! Don't make me feel bad for doing my job."

  I could not believe she was turning all this on me. I had defended myself against a vampire's attack and it was my fault?! I walked over to my office door and opened it. I was not about to assuage her guilt. "Get out."

  Her pursed lips pursed even tighter. "You forced me to do this to you!" she insisted as she scuttled into the hall.

  But I was having none of it. "Go sit on a broomstick!" I shouted and then slammed the door.

  I leaned my forehead against the jamb, unable to comprehend how she had torn my world apart.

  What a witch.

  Chapter Five

  Present Day

  The wall clock in my office chimed the witching hour – which is when three tiny carved witches came out and spun around a little wooden cauldron as the bells ran thirteen. It was time for me to take my turn at the front desk, but oh, I just wanted to sit in my office with my aching ankle propped up, enjoying this cup of tea.

  "Well, it doesn't help that those vampires hold a grudge and have the hotel staked out at night, so to speak," said Ajax, grabbing the uneaten cookie off my saucer and stuffing it in his mouth. "It is scaring off the clientele."

  "We only have a few more months, and then it will be done."

  He spoke with his mouth full, the crumbs flying from his lips. "You're a target. It's been six months and people are starting to talk about how you don't do magic here. My battle-axe can't hold off a vampire nest."

  "I know, I know, Ajax," I replied. "Maybe I should consider this offer." My eyes lingered on Mr. Bedel's paperwork.

  Ajax looked like he wanted to say something to me, but also like he was a little terrified. A dwarf! Terrified! This was a first.

  I draped my wrists across the arms of my chair and leaned back. "Yes?"

  He swallowed, the cookie sticking in his throat. As he reached for his teacup he blurted out, "We could hire someone."

  "What?" I asked, not sure I was catching his drift.

  "Maybe you should hire another witch to help us. Someone... who has powers...?" He glanced at me, his deep-set, beady eyes barely visible beneath his bushy brows.

  "Another witch?" I replied. "And with what money? We cannot afford another person."

  "You could sell a vase—"

  "The idea! This hotel has been in my family for generations!"

  "Just for the time being." He tried to make it sound like his suggestion was altruistic. Something for all our benefit. "It would make it easier for both of us. We could use a bit more sleep."

  The bell rang at the front desk. "Sounds like there are some guests I need to check in," I stated as I stood up, indicating we would talk about this later.

  Ajax grasped my wrist gently with his callused fingers. "Think about what I'm saying. Think of it as a... 'seasonal hire.' If we have someone with magic working the cash register for the next six month, our clients will come back. I don't want you to lose the No Spell."

  "I know," I repeated, hating that my friend was telling me an ugly truth that I didn't want to admit. "I don't want to lose it, either."

  I walked out to the counter and checked in our guests, a nice couple of shape-shifting night owls. I guided them to the aviary, a glass conservatory attached to one side of the hotel. It was a posh love nest featuring velvet-covered perches and a freestanding bathtub shaped like a birdbath.

  The rest of the time was quiet. I kept listening for the telltale sound of a gargoyle roosting on the roof, but no such luck. I busied myself tidying up the window box of Venus flytraps and making sure they were fed before they resorted to taking a bite out of a weak looking guest.

  When the suns finally came up, I took a set of keys from the wall and went into the basement. A family of four werewolves were back to their human form, curled up in the remains of what once was a stuffed chair.

  It was a service we offered.

  It's so hard when your pups become teens. The moon rises and suddenly, they bolt into the woods before you have a chance to grab them by the scruff of the neck and give them a sensible shake. So many werewolves reported that's how they originally got bit: some irresponsible wolf who wasn't old enough to learn how to control the shift.

  I had several families who stopped by for a staycation in one of my deluxe cages when it was their time of the moon. Triple reinforced with steel and silver, no one was going anywhere. I also picked up old pillows and sofas for them to rip up at their leisure. The Other Side can be a brutal place and it is an unfortunate truth that there are a lot of vacant homes in this dimension. The owners just... disappear. The city actually helps me to haul the furniture over. They consider it a public service to keep it out of
the hands of some sorcerer who might animate it. Everyone has a story about a couch with cushions that try to eat you when you sit.

  I unbolted the door. The son, a little tyke probably only six-years-old, stretched sleepily and then settled back down.

  Should I sell? Could I give all this up?

  I tiptoed away.

  I had the breakfast buffet laid out in the dining room by the time my guests started stirring. Scrambled eggs and a little kibble for those still feeling the effects of the night. I loved that I was one of the only hotels on the Other Side that made this family feel welcome and accepted during a time when others shirked in fear. I gave them a welcoming wave to head on in as I picked up my phone.

  My decision was made.

  Selling would be the easiest way out of this mess, but Ajax wasn't ready to throw in the towel, and I wasn't about to quit when I had a friend like him believing in us.

  And I loved this old place.

  I only had to be able to survive for six more months.

  I dialed Mr. Bedel.

  His voice on the line filled me with a warm thrill. I hated that I would not have an excuse to hear it again. C'est la vie.

  "Miss Spell? I hope you are calling with good news," he rumbled.

  I could almost see his light green eyes in my mind. "Thank you so much for your offer, Mr. Bedel, but after discussions with my partner, I'm afraid we are going to have to decline."

  There was a pause. I could sense he wanted to talk me out of it, but was too polite to do so. "Are you sure?"

  "It is quite generous, but the No Spell Hotel is not for sale."

  I could hear him sigh, but also smile on the other side of the line. "I'll pass it along to our client. It is a special place. Know the offer stands if you change your mind."

  "Very generous of you. I will make sure to keep your contact information."

  I softly hung up the phone, hoping I hadn't made the biggest mistake. I guess the one positive was the offer was open-ended. Perhaps things would seem different in a couple of days, but for now, it felt right.

  The werewolf father sauntered over to check out as his wife and pups headed towards the door. A chicken bone hung out of the corner of his mouth like a cigar.

  "Pleasant stay?" I asked as I gathered his paperwork. "We always hope our special guests like you and your family have a howlingly good time."

  "Did I hear you had some goblin problems yesterday?" he commented, trying to appear casual. The way his jaws were worrying the end of that drumstick told a different story.

  I realized I was about to lose another client if I let on things were iffy. I pushed the bill across to him and practically forced the pen into his hand. "Goblins? Not a one in our rafters! Just a little trouble with some unwanted guests. But we here at the No Spell are serious about security and I assure you that you can rest your weary head without a care. We're always on duty."

  "I would hate to hear that you got goblins, because it starts with goblins and one thing leads to another and pretty soon you're down that slippery slope to..." He leaned his elbows on the marble counter and said in a low tone, "Humans."

  The only reason a full-on human was allowed to cross over to the Other Side is if someone brought them through. And the only folks bringing humans through were vampires setting up feeding stations for a new nest.

  And the truth is, if I couldn't hold off a gaggle of goblins, there was no way I'd be able to protect my hotel from becoming a flophouse for every two-bit scum of the Other Side's underside. The No Spell could easily turn into a veritable red-light district for the undead, humans and all.

  He finished signing the paper and counted out his gold. "We like it here, but ... well... I'm glad the goblins were just a nasty rumor." He shivered. "Once you get goblins, I tell you... a place is just weeks away from being defenseless, you know? And with pups and all? A relief to hear it was just unruly guests."

  "Oh! I know!" I could never let him find out the fact we already were defenseless. I was about to lose a loyal client, and you know you're going down the toilet when you lose the loyalty of dog-people. "Who knows how these sorts of rumors start! Usually, just competitors trying to steal away our most valued guests."

  "Right," said the werewolf, giving me a grim smile. "Well... we'll just head on out."

  "Come again real soon, ya hear?" I called out as he walked out the door. "See you next full moon?"

  He didn't turn around to acknowledge what I said as he walked out the door. I turned to put the pittance of money away, really hoping there would be a next time. Darn those goblins. Maybe I had been an idiot to turn down Mr. Bedel.

  My ankle suddenly started to twinge. I reached down to scratch the goblin bite through the bandage. It was not healing fast enough. When I stood up, though, there was a familiar customer in front of me. I hadn't even heard the door open.

  "Why, Mr. Bedel! I did not hear you come in!" I tried not to show how startled I was. "We were just on the phone! How did you get here so fast? Is your office close?"

  He was staring at me with those sea foam eyes. His face was steely and devoid of the charming charisma of the day before. I hadn't realized before how tall he was. In fact, he almost seemed to loom over me. He wasn't saying anything. Just... staring at me.

  "May I help you with something?" I stammered.

  "I am here to check in," he replied.

  It was irrational, but every fiber of my being warned me to throw this man out on his keester. You work at the No Spell for this long, and you learn to set aside that little voice. Shoot, anytime you find yourself facing off with a minotaur, that survival part of your lizard brain is going to tell you to get out of the situation before you're lunch.

  But there was something very wrong about Mr. Bedel today. I couldn't put my finger on it, so instead, I put my finger on the guest register. "Did you make a reservation with Ajax yesterday?"

  "I do not have a reservation."

  I gave him my sweetest smile. This was exactly the out I was looking for. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Bedel. As much as I enjoyed chatting with you, I'm afraid we're full for the night."

  "Cancel one of your other guests."

  A warm rush of peace descended on me, washing away all of my reservations about his lack of a reservation. The menace disappeared. Instead, I remembered how gentlemanly he had been, how striking he was with his silver and black hair, how much I was drawn to him. His solution, to just cancel someone else, made perfect sense. He really was a problem solver.

  I picked up the phone and dialed the number at the top of my list. My eyes didn't leave his as I said into the metal receiver, "I'm so sorry. I'm afraid that I need to cancel your stay this evening at the No Spell Hotel."

  I have no idea why the woman was yelling at me through the phone. I held the earpiece away from me, laughing at Mr. Bedel about how comically upset she was.

  "I apologize, but we've had something come up..." I said into the phone.

  "What came up?" she shouted.

  "What came up?" I repeated, wondering the same.

  "Plumbing problem," said Mr. Bedel.

  "Plumbing problems!" I repeated to the woman, suddenly remembering what had happened. The flooding had been terrible. "The ceiling is about to cave in. But come another time and we'll comp you a night's stay."

  She still didn't seem convinced. I have no idea why. I was making a perfectly reasonable request especially since we had a life-threatening plumbing problem. You'd think that she would be grateful! I hung up the phone and straightened the waist of my tightly laced bustier.

  "You're kind to accommodate my needs," Mr. Bedel commented.

  His praise nearly took my breath away. "We pride ourselves in our customer service here at the No Spell."

  "No spell... What an interesting name..."

  "No magic on the premises," I informed him.

  "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a slow, wicked smile.

  I could have fallen into that smile and swam in the ocean of h
is admiration.

  Behind the desk were mailboxes for any incoming messages and key storage. I pulled the key to our best room out for him.

  "Here you are. 2B." There was an expression on his face that made me pause. "Or—"

  "Not 2B."

  "I beg your pardon?" I asked, wondering if he was flirting with me, using the opportunity to get punny with Shakespeare. I gave his hand a gentle little slap. "2B or not 2B? You are a wit."

  He was not flirting. Instead, he leaned forward intently. "There will be a young woman who checks in later. It is important my room is adjacent to hers."

  "Oh. Of course." I turned around, embarrassed and slightly jealous. I had assumed we had a mutual admiration. I grabbed another key. "3C."

  "This is of a delicate nature and I would appreciate if you did not mention I was here."

  I swallowed my hurt. "Of course. Discretion is my middle name."

  "Speaking of names, my name is not Mr. Bedel."

  "It's not?" I replied. It was funny as I stared into his dreamy eyes how I ever could have thought his name was Mr. Bedel. Who was Mr. Bedel? What an odd name... I pushed the register around for him.

  He ignored the quill in the inkwell. "My name is John Doe and we have not met before," he said. He pulled an inky black feather from inside the sleeve of his robe. "This quill is a gift. You should use it whenever I or any of the ladies I spend time with checks in."

  "A pleasure to meet you, John Doe, and how lovely to have such a kind gift on your first stay," I replied. "We are so glad to have new clients. How did you hear about the No Spell?"

  He paused for a moment, as if considering his response. "Your reputation."

  "I am glad it precedes us," I gently ribbed. "Now, how will you be paying for your room? Cash? Barter?"

  "I will not be paying for the room."

  It made so much sense. I was so lucky to have a new man such as him stay at the No Spell. He was the sort of client I wanted to attract. Why in the heavens name would I have thought to charge a man like him for a room? "Of course! On the house! Have a lovely stay!"

  I waved at him as he walked up the sweeping staircase to his room, like a prince climbing the steps to a tower to save a princess. Perhaps someday, a princess like me... My eyes rested on his name on the register. John Doe. And for some reason, I felt compelled to cross it out and make it look like he had already checked out. Discretion, I thought. Our secret. I couldn't help drawing a little heart next to his name. What a nice man.