Miss Spell's Hotel Page 4

  Chapter Six

  A young woman with unruly black hair stepped up to the desk. She was dressed in a drab wool coat and wore a hat shaped like a felt, brown bucket. She pushed her thick, mock tortoise-rim glasses up her nose as she mumbled, "I need to check in."

  I hadn't had any guests since the werewolf family left a few hours ago. I was so grateful to finally have a customer. There was no way I could be able to tempt a witch to come work for us if I couldn't even keep the lights on.

  "Of course!" I said. "And the name of the reservation?"

  "Nellie."

  I spotted her name in my books and spun the register for her sign. "All set." I held out my lovely, new black quill. I was going to have to thank Ajax for it and find out where he got it. "Please sign here."

  "Do I have to use my real name?" she asked, taking the feather and twirling it nervously.

  It's always such an awkward balance – respecting the privacy of your guests while still making sure to capture enough information to track them down if they don't pay their bill. In the past, I would have been able to infuse her signature with a wee bit of her energy signature, which would enable me to turn it over to a tracker if she was a deadbeat. Those trackers... They'd be able to touch her writing and follow her steps to her front door. But without my powers, I had to rely on the honesty of strangers. Only six more months, I told myself.

  Instead, I tried to imbue my smile with a sense of understanding, but also convey the importance of the rules. "We prefer it."

  "There was someone here named John Doe," she pointed out.

  I looked down at the name on the register. It had little hearts all over it. It must have been someone Ajax had fancied but turned away. Under that gruff exterior, he was such a romantic. "Ah, but as you can see, his name is crossed out."

  Her shoulders curved in, as if she was trying to become as small as she could. "It is important," she said, leaning toward me. "It is important that no one knows I'm here."

  All the red flags began waving as I figured out this was not some tryst, rather a damsel in distress. "You poor dear!" I clucked.

  All her defenses melted at this slight extension of kindness. "I am here until a World Walker can take me through the portal to Earth. Please, I promise I won't be any trouble." She emptied her pockets and put the full payment plus some on the counter. "I am in danger."

  What sort of a woman would I be to turn someone like her away? I pushed all the coins back at her. "We'll have none of that. This is on me."

  She seemed like she might cry with relief. "Really?"

  "Really," I insisted. "Your treasure is no good here." I took the register and the black quill and wrote, Jane Doe in my own writing so it couldn't be used against her. "Is there someone we should keep our eyes out for, dear?"

  "A tall man," she replied. "A tall man with silver and black hair that hangs to his shoulders. He has strange green eyes. It is very important he does not find me."

  "Don't you worry," I assured her. "No one like that has been sniffing around." I turned to the wall of keys. If there was someone after her, the upper floors would give us a little more of a lead if she needed protection. It looked like someone was in 3C. It might be useful to have someone on the other side of the wall if she needed help. "3D. Only one way in or out. If you need anything, the stairs to my room are right next door to you."

  "Thank you, Miss...?"

  "Miss Spell. A pleasure to have you staying with us." I waved at her as she went up the stairs and then I turned my attention to the door to make sure that no evil men tried to sneak in. I would do my best to keep her safe, I promised.

  Chapter Seven

  I woke in the middle of the night with my heart racing.

  I was having a dream that I was in one of the rooms fighting to make the bed, but the sheets were trying to strangle me. There was a pounding noise, like someone was at the door, but everything in the dream exploded as the furniture collapsed with a boom.

  Believe you me, you make enough beds and those are the things that haunt your nightmares, too.

  In bits and pieces, I came back to the real world. There was a half moon in the sky. The dragons who usually have eaten it by now must have been interrupted. I then realized the reason I could see the moon was that my lead-paned window was open and banging in the wind. I usually kept it latched against the flying beasts of the Other Side, but must have forgotten to refasten it when I was cleaning. That must have been the noise invading my sleep.

  I stood up and it felt like my ankle was going to collapse. It felt like someone was jamming a knife into that darn goblin bite. Tomorrow, I was going to have to see a practitioner about it. Just another added expense that I could have taken care of myself if I still had my powers, I grumbled.

  I hobbled over to the window and shut it, then climbed back into bed. I snuggled under my damask duvet, ready to fall back asleep.

  But instead, I found myself lying there, the terror washing over me again like the nightmare was still going on.

  What on earth was happening?

  Back when I still had my powers, I had the slightest touch of the sixth sense. I mean, not enough to go opening a tea reading shop or anything. I was no psychic. But just enough to let me know if something was not on the up and up.

  This almost felt like that, except I knew it could not be true. All my powers had been stolen by my coven and I knew for a fact they had not reversed any decisions.

  And yet, my heart was still racing. My body was telling me I should run.

  Perhaps I had eaten something that had caused my blood pressure to spike. Or perhaps it was just remnants of the last of the goblin poison leaving the wound in my foot.

  That had to be it.

  I readjusted my pillows and tried to get comfortable. It was just remnants of the goblins.

  Everything was fine.

  It was fine.

  I stared at the window latch and prayed it didn't fly open by the force of some invisible hands.

  A chill ran down my spine.

  Everything was... fine...

  Chapter Eight

  A young woman with olive skin and long, black hair walked up to the counter. She carried a small, turquoise train case and wore a matching pillbox hat. She tentatively tapped the brass bell with her gloved hand.

  "May I help you, dear?" I asked as I came out of the backroom.

  "I'm just here..." Her eyes were wide and terrified. She leaned across the counter, gripping the marble top so hard, I thought she might leave marks. "I need a room."

  "Of course! Are you all right?" I stepped swiftly to her with concern.

  "There's someone after me." She cast a brief look over her shoulder at the front door, as if frightened someone might come walking through. "I was told this was a safe place to come. That you help women like me."

  What an odd thing to say.

  I mean, of course I would always help a woman in trouble. Who wouldn't? It's in witch nature. But that this was something people were talking about?

  "I will be happy to get you checked in," I replied, not entirely sure how else to respond. I handed her the black quill. "Here, just sign the register as Jane Doe."

  "I can see that you've provided safety to a lot of girls like me," She squinted at the page as she removed her glove. "Is it some sort of code? Five John Doe's crossed out and five Jane Does signed in?"

  "What?" I asked. I inpsected the book. We crossed people out when they checked out, which explained all the Johns, but I had no idea what Ajax was doing checking in Jane Does without settling their bill.

  "So strange," I mused. I wondered what Ajax was up to. There was no way I would be able to get that extra help if we were comping rooms. "I'll have to ask my associate about that." I turned back to the mailbox. "Here you are. The key to room 3D."

  "Thank you for your discretion," she said as she turned and walked up the grand staircase.

  I set about tidying up the reception area as a quiet peace descended on m
e. Warmly, I thought about how much I enjoyed the company of my ferns. They would wrap their long fronds around anyone standing close to their pedestal. Just their way of saying they welcomed in the lonely wallflowers of the world. I sweetly wiped the dust from their leaves and they expressed their gratitude by wrapping their greenery around my fingers.

  The front door opened and Ajax toddled in, arms filled with wonderful smelling McDryads takeout as we officially handed over our shift duties.

  "Glad to see the place didn't crumble to the ground," he grumbled as he deposited lunch on the counter.

  "Quiet as a cucumber," I replied.

  He squinted at me. "Odd turn of phrase..."

  "What?" I asked. I pressed the back of my hand against my forehead, a slight sense of dizziness washing over me.

  "Have you eaten anything today?" he asked, scowling.

  "I'm sure I did," I replied, not being able to remember if I did or not.

  "So busy you couldn't get away to take care of yourself?" He shook his head with disappointment.

  "No," I replied. I felt like I was forgetting something, but had no clue what it was. I reached down and scratched my ankle. "Not a soul checked in. I've been alone all morning."

  "Shame," said Ajax, separating what was his and what was mine. He caught me fiddling with my wrappings. "Ankle still bothering you?"

  "Just in fits and spurts," I replied.

  "You need to get it examined."

  "It's healing. Just taking a little while."

  "Those goblins carry all sorts of filth. You never know what those things have been chewing on."

  "I'm fine," I insisted. He gave me a look that said he wasn't buying it, so I promised, "I'll head out to see a healer this afternoon."

  "Don't forget!" he said, shaking his finger at me. "You always say you're going to see a healer and then always forget or come up with some excuse."

  My laugh of disbelief was so explosive, it came out sounding like a bark. "No, I don't."

  "You've been promising me for the better part of two weeks!" he insisted.

  I didn't remember a single conversation about seeing a healer. Ajax was always so dramatic. "The pain goes away! It's just the occasional flare up."

  "After lunch!"

  "Fine! I'll go after lunch!" I answered, taking the bag from McDryads. I inhaled deeply. "This shroomwich is awfully distracting, though."

  "After lunch!"

  "After lunch," I replied, taking the bag and disappearing into my office.

  I sunk down into my red velvet wingback and propped my feet up on the footstool. I took a bite of the sandwich. It was so good. The fire was warm and I realized I was blissfully happy. The light that shone through the stain glass windows sparkled with colors and rainbows. I itched my bandage. As I finished the last bite, I reluctantly folded the leaf wrapper to put in the trashcan.

  I stood in the middle of the room for a moment, remembering I was supposed to be doing something. Suddenly, I couldn't remember what. I stared at the door. Had Ajax taken over the front desk yet? Shouldn't I be at the front desk until he came back?

  And how did I get this empty trash from McDryads? I turned the leaf wrapper in my hand. Ajax must have left it in the room, but he was usually so tidy and often bought me something to eat, too. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten anything. I mean, I felt full, but I was going to have to find something for lunch.

  At least my ankle was feeling better.

  Just needed a few minutes with my feet up.

  Chapter Nine

  "Miss Spell, what in tarnation have you been doing with the books?"

  "I'm sorry, what?" I asked, coming over.

  Ajax was glowering at me through his bushy eyebrows. He pointed his finger at the registry. "We have twenty John and Jane Does who checked in this month, half of them never checked out, and none of them paid. Let's hope they were a couple because that's a bare minimum of over twenty rooms you comped, more likely forty!"

  "Me?" I turned to him with a bemused smile. "Ajax, I don't know what you're getting at, but I most certainly did not check in or out any of these guests."

  "Well, I didn't."

  We both paused.

  "If you didn't... and I didn't..." A suspicion started to dawn and my blood began to boil. I hiked up my ruffled organza skirt and stalked around the counter. I touched the page and felt a slight pull. Just what I had thought! "Warlocks," I cursed, spitting on the floor. "Flipping warlocks."

  "I'm sorry?"

  I pointed at the registry book with disgust, not even wanting to touch the dirty page with my finger. "The power is in the signature. When we look at it, the Jane Doe signature completes the spell and it erases their memory from our mind."

  "Our mind?" Ajax asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

  I bit my tongue, knowing what he was getting at. Dwarves are not affected by subtle magic. You have to hit them with a brick of power to get a spell to stick. It's why he could work with me so comfortably. I held all the blame for this disaster. And what made me angriest was that if I still had my powers, I would have detected this spell the first time I laid eyes on it. Instead, it took twenty spells for me to feel even the slightest twinge that something might be wrong.

  "Why is it I always gave them the same room?" I spun around and dug through the room boxes. I snatched the key to 3D. "I'm thinking I might need to give the place a good airing," I pronounced.

  Ajax just grunted, settling in with his newspaper and having the good grace not to rub in that I was a downright liability.

  I stalked up the stairs, grabbing the brass railing as I got angrier and angrier with each step. I never thought someone would be so foolish as to try magic on me. First the gargoyles disappeared, then we got goblins, and now I had sorcerers working wicked magic on my third floor. I reached the room and flung open the door.

  It was one of our plainer rooms. In fact, we tried not to rent it out if we could help it. The walls had strange corners that only allowed for a single bed and the view was lousy. I tried to dress it up with a sweet garden theme, but it was like putting lipstick on a budget traveler. Oh, sure, I had the traps in place for any unruly monsters - holy water sprinkler systems and stakes stored in strategic places. But safety features aside, it was definitely no frills.

  I stood in the center of the room, trying to detect what was out of place. It would have seemed normal to the untrained eye, but the brass bed wasn't made quite right and our John or Jane Doe had no idea how to fluff a pillow. I walked over and ran my hand over the floral duvet. Unfortunately, whoever did this knew how to clean up their magical signature. That or I didn't have enough power to detect it, which could be the case, too.

  Who had been staying here? What had happened here? And where did they go after everything was done?

  I walked out of the room and turned the corner toward the stairs. There was a large window at the other end of the hall. I just happened to glance at it, but what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

  "AJAX?" I called, needing someone else to confirm I wasn't going mad.

  I heard his little legs pound up the steps until he was standing beside me, staring at the window.

  "Where did all the stained glass go?" he asked in horror.

  "That's what I was wondering myself."

  Chapter Ten

  The poltergeist levitated the rattling teacups beside our café table. This marked the first time I had sat down with the head of my coven since that terrible day when she removed my powers, but I needed help. And, setting my bruised ego aside, she was our best hope.

  "Forty mysterious visitors checked into my hotel and half of them did not check out," I explained to Miss Trudy. I took my cup from the poltergeist's invisible hand. "And now all of the stained glass has disappeared from our windows. I mean, the glass is still there, but it is just a regular window. What criminal comes in and swaps out windows on the third floor of a building with panes of glass?"

  Miss Trudy waved her wand lazily over
her drink, stirring the cream and sugar by magic. She then tentatively blew on it and took a sip. I’m sure she didn't mean to rub it in that she spent more magic on an afternoon treat than I currently held in my entire body, but I wouldn't have put it past her.

  "But you didn't see anything?" she clarified, slightly uninterested.

  I couldn't understand why she wasn't taking this more seriously.

  "I saw plenty—" I checked to make sure no one was listening, and then leaned forward, keeping my voice low. "But the thing is, I can't remember anything. I discovered there was a spell the warlock put on his signature and it wiped my brain cells."

  Miss Trudy side-eyed me like she didn't think I could blame a warlock for that. She reached out and patted my hand. "Miss Spell, I know that this is a difficult time for you, and you're probably over-exhausted. But to spin this ridiculous story about a warlock to get me to commute your sentence—"

  The accusation was like a slap to the face. That I would make something like this up as a manipulation tactic? Stiffly, I cut her off. "My dwarf was the one who discovered all this."

  I could see her hesitate for just a moment, but she covered it up right away. "As I said, you're exhausted."

  "Just—"

  She held up her hand to stop me and sighed, as if me asking her to help us survive was putting her out. "I'll make a report to the coven and we'll investigate it. Will that make you feel better?"

  My ankle started itching again. I reached down to scratch it casually as a clump of pedestrians passed by. A tall man with slicked back, silver and black hair eyed me suspiciously as he walked past. I gritted my teeth and tried not to scratch.