“But we’ve already lived yesterday and part of today without them.”
“Doesn’t matter, we won’t know that we did. This particular reality will simply disappear, a new reality with Claire and Diana and that orange thing replacing it and becoming the only reality.”
“Really?”
“Nah. I’m just messing with your head.” He looked significantly more cheerful than he had for days. “Once time’s been used, it’s done. Nobody wants time with turned-over corners and pencil scribbles in the margins.”
“Do cats get senile?” Dean asked the room at large. When the room didn’t answer, which around the guest house wasn’t always a given, he knelt to whisk the pile of dirt and cat hair—mostly cat hair—onto a dustpan. Still on his knees, he heard the outside door open and half a dozen peopletromp in. Without wiping their feet. Wondering why Newfoundlanders seemed to be the only people in Canada who grasped the concept of not tracking dirt inside, he called, “I’ll be right there.” He spilled the dustpan into the garbage and stood.
A young woman waited in the lobby, half leaning on the counter and stroking Austin. Tied back off her face with a ribbon, her shoulder-length hair was so black the highlights were blue. Her skin was very pale, her fingers amazingly so against Austin’s fur, and her lips were a dark red…red as blood. Dean looked out the window and once he was certain the sun hadn’t set early and no unscheduled total eclipse had darkened the sky, he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The continuing presence of daylight came as a distinctrelief. He had nothing against vampires in general, but they always drew groupies and those guys just weirded him right out.
He smiled what Claire called his innkeeper smile.“Can I help you?”
“We were wondering if you had rooms available.”
We? Dean leaned forward and found himself staring down at seven muscular men in shorts and tank tops. The largest of them barely cracked four feet tall.“Uh, we only have six rooms and they’re all doubles…”
She waved off his protest.“Not a problem. Four rooms are fine; we’re not made of money, so we’re used to sharing. It’s just we’ve been on the road all night and we’d like to catch some sleep before the game.”
“Game?”
“Yeah, we’re basketball players,” one of the men announced belligerently, weight forward on the balls of his feet as though daring Dean to make something of it.
“Okay.”
“They’re the Southern Ontario Midget Basketball champs,” the young woman announced proudly. “I’m their manager, Aurora King.”
Dean shook her hand.“Pleased to meet you.”
“We have an exhibition game this evening at the community center.” Leaning toward him, she dropped her voice and added, “If you can knock a little off your room rates, I’m sure I can score you some tickets.”
To a midget basketball game.Were people even allowed to say midget anymore? Dean wondered. Although all things considered, he had to assume Ms. King would know the politically correct…label? Word? Description? Realizing she was waiting for his answer, he shrugged. “Uh, sure.”
“Come on, come on, enough of the chitchat,” yawned a member of the team. “I’m so tired I’m going to sack out right here.”
“Low blood sugar,” snorted the young man standing beside him.
“Premed,” Aurora murmured as Dean pushed the registry toward her. “He diagnoses everything. Drives us nuts.” Her voice rose back to more generally audible levels. “You guys work out who’s sleeping where and with who.”
A strangled cough drew everyone’s attention to a redhead blushing almost the exact same shade as his hair.
“Lord fucking save us, the new guy’s shy,” muttered the first player who’d spoken.
Teasing the new guy kept everyone amused while Dean finished the paperwork and reached for the keys.“I’d just like to point out that there’s no smoking in the rooms.”
The entire team turned to stare at a diminutive blond.
He pushed short dreadlocks back off his face and shrugged.“Hey, man, I’m cool. No mellow the day of a game. I know the rules.”
“Strangely enough,” Aurora laughed as Dean’s eyebrows rose, “he’s one of the best guards we ever had.”
“That’s because I control my own space, Dude.”
After a short tussle over the keys and a little more teasing of the new guy, they started up the stairs. Six steps up, one of them sneezed violently.“I think I’m allergic to the damned cat.”
“Well, he won’t be in the damned room,” Aurora mocked, slipping her arm around the shoulders of the last man standing in the lobby. He wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked in lockstep up to the second floor.
“I’m guessing that one’s happy,” Austin murmured as they heard the fourth door close.
Dean removed his glasses and polished them against the hem of his T-shirt.“I’m not going there.”
“Probably wise.”
*
Struggling up through a pounding headache and the kind of nausea that made even breathing seem like a bad idea, Diana opened her eyes. The ceiling—a long, long way up—didn’t look familiar. Where was she? Mattress and pillow under her. Blanket over. She was obviously in a bed. In her underwear. So she’d been here for a while.
Her head flopped to the left and she could see a row of beds stretching off across a…store?
To the right, baby and toddler pajamas were twenty percent off.
Okay. Got it now. Otherside. Mall. Meat-minds. Mall elves. Battle. Wand. Ow.
The two nearest beds were also occupied. She identified Colin by his pale hair but didn’t know who the second wounded elf was.
Raising her head, she could see another row of beds facing the first. Since all the beds were made—bedding, aisle fifteen—she assumed the elves were using it as a dormitory slash infirmary.
“Hey. You’re awake.”
“Claire!” A strong hand behind her back helped her sit. The world tilted. “Bucket!”
A bucket appeared with an efficiency that suggested this was not the first time.
Legs crossed, Diana grasped the turquoise plastic sides firmly and bent over.
“I can’t believe you’ve still got that much in your stomach,” Claire murmured worriedly when Diana finally sat up.
“I don’t. We’re on the Otherside, remember?” Diana gratefully took the offered water, poured some into her mouth, rinsed, and spat. “I could be channeling it from anywhere. Why is everything on an angle?”
“I’m guessing that when you sat up, the world tilted. It’s been happening every time you vomit, but don’t worry, it settles down.”
“I hurl and the earth moves?”
“I know, just what you need, more ego reinforcement.” Eyes averted from the contents, Claire set the bucket into the lower cupboard of the bedside table and closed the door.
Diana thought about that for a moment and shuddered.“Uh, Claire…”
“Do you want to deal with it?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Well, I don’t want to deal with it either and that means we don’t have to. Next time it comes out of the cupboard, it’ll be a new bucket. Okay, once it was a new cauldron because a couple of the kids were hanging around, but, mostly, it’s a bucket.”
“Cauldron?”
“We’re wizards.”
“Right. Don’t cauldrons go with witches?”
“I suspect the kids were a little confused by that wand trick.” Arms folded, brow furrowed, Claire walked almost all the way to Baby and Toddler Pajamas, returned, and reluctantly continued. “And they were also impressed.”
“I get the impression you’re less impressed,” Diana sighed.
“When you used the wand to destroy the dark elf, it didn’t pull power from the possibilities, it pulled it from you.”
“No sh…kidding, Sherlock.” Throwing back the covers, Diana cautiously swung her legs out over the side of the bed. The world wobbled a bit but went no farther off center. “That certainly explains why I feel like I’ve been puked up and left to dry on the sidewalk. Do you think the wand wasa trap?”