Judging by his self-satisfied smile, he didn’t have any regrets. He had wanted a reaction and he’d gotten one.
I’d made a mistake. I’d dealt with plenty of vampires before. A few months ago, when he helped Sean and me destroy the dahaka assassin, he’d all but said he was interested in me. I hadn’t heard from him in months, but that changed nothing. Vampires tended to be infuriatingly single-minded.
I should’ve never invited him to come with me. I should’ve never left the inn with him. I kept making these rookie blunders because I was too tired to see straight. I had to get some sleep. It was a necessity at this point.
I began walking. The sooner we got to the inn, the better.
The street turned. The last house had no fence. It had fallen down about three weeks ago, and the owners hadn’t gotten around to replacing it. We quietly slipped through the yard, crossed the main road to the wooded area, and started down the narrow trail that would open to the back of the inn.
“I’m glad you relied on me for assistance,” Arland said. “I once told you to call on me. I meant it. Anytime you require it, I will be your shield.”
“Thank you. It’s very kind of you.”
I stepped onto the inn grounds. The magic flowed through me, and I let out a quiet breath.
Ten minutes later I let Arland, Hardwir, and Nuan Cee’s niece into the ballroom. The inn had dimmed the lights and a soothing warm glow filled the big room. I opened the doorways and closed them after they passed through.
The floor of the ballroom was clean. No hint of gold and jewels remained. Where was Cookie?
I closed my eyes, concentrating. There he was, slumped in the corner. I walked over. The small fox was curled into a ball on the floor, his bag under his head like a pillow. I nudged him gently.
“Cookie? Cookie?”
He opened his turquoise eyes and blinked, his face drowsy.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“I can’t,” he yawned. “I have to find the emerald.”
“What kind of emerald?”
“A big one. The Green Eye. Very expensive.” His nose drooped. He looked exhausted. “If I don’t find it, I’ll be in trouble.”
I nudged the inn to check the floor. Nothing. The emerald wasn’t here.
“We’ll find it in the morning.” I took him by the hand and carefully helped him to his feet. “Come on. Off to bed.”
I led him to the door and watched him go up the stairs. He knocked on the upstairs door. Someone opened it and another fox ushered him inside.
I sealed the ballroom and dragged myself upstairs. I needed to take a shower, but the bed looked so comfortable.
Gertrude Hunt and I had survived the first day. We dealt with a major crisis, we got through a big ceremony, and we managed to get everyone to bed without bloodshed. I patted the inn’s wall. “I’m so proud of you.”
The inn creaked slightly, the wood warm under my fingers.
I meant to sit down on my bed, but my legs must’ve been tired, because they decided to stop supporting my weight. I fell onto the covers, yawned, and passed out.
The inn woke me up at six thirty. I dreamed that Sean Evans came back. We were having a barbecue, and he kept fighting with Orro over how to season the ribs. I lay in bed with my eyes open and looked at the wooden beams crossing over my ceiling, taking a mental tally of all my guests. Everyone was where they were supposed to be, except for George who was in the kitchen with Orro. The Arbitrator and his people had freedom of movement in the inn, with the exception of the guests’ private quarters. Each faction was secured by two doors. The outer doors opened to the ballroom. I had sealed those, but they would open at George’s request. The inner doors were controlled by the guests. George and his people would have to knock and ask permission to enter. Even though he was the Arbitrator and paid my bills, I wouldn’t let him have complete access. The privacy of my guests was sacred.
I closed my eyes. The barbecue dream had been so vivid. In the few seconds it took me to wake up, I was almost convinced that it was real.
This strange obsession with Sean Evans had to stop. It would’ve made sense if there was a relationship there, but even if I tried to lie to myself and say there was one, he had left. They all left. That was the basic truth of the life of an innkeeper: guests arrived, walked into your life, and departed, while you stayed behind, never knowing if you would see them again. I had plenty of conversations with my neighbors and Caldenia, but I had few friends. Sean had learned who I was and accepted it. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else.
I tapped the covers with my palm. Beast jumped up and scooted toward me, caught in the complete ecstasy of being invited on the bed. I hugged her to me and petted her fur.
I needed to get my emotions in order. Yesterday was the first day, but today the real work would begin.
“Reiki music,” I murmured.
A quiet, soothing melody of flutes and drums filled the room, floating against the sounds of a distant thunderstorm. I had found the soundtrack on sale in a bargain bin, and it proved surprisingly relaxing. I sat quietly on my bed with my eyes closed. Just let it go. Sink into the music, listen to the soothing sound, and let things go…
The inn’s magic tugged on me.
I opened my eyes. A screen formed in the wall. On the screen Officer Marais jumped out of his car. Red welts marked his face—the remindermuds of falling on the pavement last night. Beast saw him and barked once, baring her teeth.
This was going to be interesting.
Officer Marais ran to the front of the vehicle and stared at it in shock. The Reiki soundtrack kept playing. Trilling bird cries added a pleasant high note to the sound of flutes.
Officer Marais dashed back to the driver’s seat, popped the release on the hood, ran back, and jerked the hood open.
“Who do you think I am, an amateur?” I murmured.
Officer Marais stumbled back from the hood, his face pale, and began to pace back and forth in front of the cruiser, glancing at the hood once in a while.
I felt guilty. I’d met some bad cops before. Sometimes when a person got a little bit of power, especially if the rest of their life made them feel powerless, they went to a dark place with it. Marais wasn’t one of those cops. He calmly followed the rules and was dedicated to his job. He wasn’t on a power trip, nor did he get off on screaming at people and bullying them. He was an Andy Griffith kind of cop, one who relied on his authority more than his gun. He probably wanted to be respected rather than feared. His sense told him that something about Gertrude Hunt was off, and he genuinely wanted to get to the bottom of it. If I were running a meth lab or a ring of car thieves, he would’ve dealt with me in no time, but the inn was so far outside his frame of reference he couldn’t even begin to guess at the truth, and if he somehow managed it, he wouldn’t believe it.
Marais pivoted and stared at the house.
“That’s right. You’ve been beaten.”
Officer Marais clenched his teeth, making the muscles on his jaw bulge, marched to the car, and got in.
“Zoom closer,” I asked.
The inn zoomed in. Officer Marais was looking at his dashcam. His face was grim.
“No, there’s nothing on there either. You lost. Go home.”
Now he would start his cruiser and drive away, and I would get on with my day.
Officer Marais stepped out of the car, slapped the door closed, and marched to the inn.
Oh crap.
I jumped off the bed and pulled on a fresh pair of sweatpants. I needed a bra. Where the hell had I put my laundry? I yanked the laundry basket out of the closet and dug through it. If only I would put away my laundry after I washed it, I wouldn’t be in this mess… Got it.
I slipped the bra on, threw a white T-shirt over it, and dashed out of my bedroom and down a long hallway. The Reiki music followed me. “Turn it off,” I breathed. The music died. Beast shot ahead of me, barking her head off. I ran down the staircase two steps at the time and burst into the front room just as the doorbell rang.