Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
I decide to explore the hotel and get some answers. I have my trusty sleep pistol after all. Which will probably be useless to anyone who can wield magic that can change a world and procure bacon on toast with Heinz tomato ketchup.
Tuesday, it’s you. It’s your magic. I ignore that pesky inner voice for a moment as I need to hunt for answers, and although this fancy apartment is amazing, I can’t stay here and hide. No, I need to get dressed. Find answers.
The wardrobe has changed from the hotel’s basic one to a full walk-in, and it’s full to the brim with clothes.
Like the bacon butty, I don’t know where these clothes came from. I glance back at the mug and plate I left carelessly on the floor. They’ve disappeared. The hotel is self-cleaning. Aha. That is perfectly normal.
With wide eyes and slightly hunched shoulders, I turn back, and without going inside, I cautiously poke at the clothes. They sway, and the wooden hangers rattle and screech against the rail.
Has someone, somewhere, found their clothes missing this morning? Do they disappear from individuals? Is this where missing socks go? Or is some poor retail manager going to find that they have missing stock?
It’s. Magic.
It’s got to be magic. So, that then begs the question: if I wear magic clothing, will it leave me naked in the outside world? What happens if someone slaps me with another null band again? Will the clothes disappear like magic hair colour? Gah, so many questions. I am developing a headache.
I blow out a harsh breath that ruffles a strand of my hair, then push all my questions to the back of my mind. I shuffle into the wardrobe and take a proper gander at the clothes.
I work in a department store that’s full of designer gear. I have an eye for quality. I can’t help the excited shiver that runs down my spine when I see my favourites. Favourite styles, brands—this is clothing that I could never afford or stuff that I have talked myself out of buying.
I pull out a drawer. It is filled to the brim with expensive underwear.
Within moments, I whip off my unicorn pyjamas.
I dress in soft, black trousers and a beautiful, long-sleeved but lightweight top that has a colourful butterfly print.
Girly, but also professional, and the trousers are a perfect fit.
There is no need for me to dress so smartly; I could put on the jogging bottoms I wore yesterday and a hoodie.
But what I am wearing feels right. Power dressing? I shrug. Perhaps.
To finish the look, I grab a pair of black, sparkly trainers. Practical footwear in case I need to run. I think I have already established that I won’t be doing any Kung Fu fighting. So getaway shoes are a must. As I stuff my feet in them, I notice they are Gucci. Gucci trainers.
This is nuts.
I leave Daisy to nap. I need her safe in the room. As I close the main door, I double-check the ward. Again, I have no idea how it’s still up. What with the room being about six times bigger and all. But it is still there, still working. It will stop any creature from getting inside.
Not for the first time, I fret about leaving her alone. One day soon, I will get my girl a friend.
I pull the heavy door and step into a very different lobby.
My heart makes a quiet leap in my chest. Old and new now mash perfectly together, leaving a breathtakingly beautiful entrance to the hotel.
If this magic is all me, I reeeally have outdone myself.
Seeing in real life what I have dreamed of for so long is seriously perplexing.
“Where’s the guy?” I mumble as I take in the empty reception.
“Larry? He’s gone,” says a refined voice behind me. I barely refrain from jumping out of my skin and instead, hunch like a tortoise as I try to disappear into a non-existent shell. I spin around.
“Oh,” I say when I see the man who is sitting in a chair behind me.
Where did he come from? I don’t know what to say.
I presume this is the guest from room number one.
He seems oddly familiar. Short, black hair that matches his black eyes, his skin is almost plastic in its perfection.
He looks alien, like he is a walking mannequin.
Pureblood vampire, my frightened inner voice whines.
A born vampire.
I lock my knees so I don’t take a step back.
Show no fear, Tuesday. You’re his walking, talking version of a bacon butty.
I swallow and try my best to control my breathing.
In my mind’s eye, I can see myself covered in ketchup and slapped between two slices of bread.
I shudder and push the freaky image away.
These past few days have been an eye-opener when it comes to creatures. An elf, a hellhound, and now a pureblood vampire.
I so didn’t need to add vampires to the crazy mix.
I have definitely seen him before, but where?
TV? Born vampires are rare and most of them are famous.
They are the elite, often the top movie stars of our world.
Atticus. My eyes widen when his name comes to me.
What is the head of the vampire council doing here?
This guy is super old, super powerful, and way above any experience I have in dealing with all things creature.
I am getting a little freaked out by his cold, expressionless, black eyes as they take me in, his gaze tracing the swirls on my face.
I rock slightly from foot to foot and tamp down the urge to hide my face with my hair.
Thank goodness I dressed nicely. When he has finished his appraisal, he politely holds his hand out to me.
I automatically shake it. It’s warm and silky smooth.
“Atticus,” he says with a little bow of his head. I barely stop myself from checking his feet to see if he clapped them together.
He is so formal.
“Tuesday. Tuesday Larson.” I cough slightly to clear my throat. My voice is several octaves higher than normal. “You are the head of the vampire council,” I point out like a divvy, but I can’t stop now as I am on a roll. I decide to wing it even more like I always do. “What are you doing here?”
Has he been lured here too? Or did he do the luring? Crikey, now that’s a thought.
“I’m your guest,” he purrs. “The Sanctuary is my permanent residence, has been for over a thousand years. With you here, your realm should finally be able to return to the collective of dimensions.”
Blood rushes to my head, and I wobble. What? My realm? The collective of dimensions? Crap-on-a-cracker. I have so many questions that I am practically bursting. I guess I need to start small. If I don’t, my brain is going to explode.
Should I even trust this man? “It’s a pocket dimension?”
“A pocket realm.” Ah, I was close then; one point to Tuesday. “This is your world, your dimension. It became yours as soon as you arrived and took control. You control the air we breathe, the seasons, and everything we see and hear. There is nothing you can’t do.”
Atticus moves closer, and I watch, dumbfounded, as he slowly reaches out his hand and gently, with just his fingertips, touches my collar bone.
My skin crawls. I barely refrain from slapping his hand away.
“The well of power that laps like an immense silver ocean inside of you has been untapped. After a few scant hours of being here, it has come to the surface. A single drop of power while you slept and look what has already happened.” He waves his elegant hand in the air.
“See what you have achieved without even trying. You are incredible.”
This isn’t happening. It’s not happening. This can’t be real, can it?
An incredulous laugh bubbles up in my chest and spills from my lips.
I shake my head as I move away from his fingers, and twitch with the urge to wipe away the feeling of his touch.
I don’t like the strange vampire touching me.
His head tilts to the side with a snap and my laughter dies. Friggity-fig, he is scary.
I suddenly wish I was staring into the soft grey eyes of the hellhound, instead of this creature. His black eyes remind me of a shark.
“How is this realm mine? Oh, and have you by any chance got a contact I can speak to about this?” I know I can’t quiz a pureblood vampire like I would a random man from the pub.
But the desperate words will not stop. “The collective dimensions?” I squeak out with a wince. Shut up. You are being rude.
Atticus’s black eyes narrow. “I have to say, your cluelessness is endearing.” He nods at the tome that still sits on the now fancy reception desk.
This one sure appears steadier than the last. “You have a lot of reading to do. When the last host died”—I mouth the word host. Huh.
Interesting —“the magic allowed me to continue to make The Sanctuary my home. There are other hosts, other worlds, and a guild.”
“A guild?”
“The details will be in the book.”
I glare at the book. Do I really have to read that thing?
It will take me a year. I rub my temple.
The heavy tome twitches. I narrow my eyes.
What was that? The pages flutter and, with a creak, the ancient-looking thing rattles harder against the wood.
Woah. The book wobbles and then, with a flash of blinding white magic, a fancy tablet appears in its place.
I rapidly blink.
The vampire grunts. “Interesting,” he mutters. I cringe and give him a hapless shrug. Done with our conversation, he dismisses me with the same nod he greeted me with and prowls away.
I watch him leave with growing panic. “Oh, urm… sir? Urm… Atticus!” I yell. “Do I need to do anything? For you, I mean… I’ve never run a h-hotel before. Do you need t-towels?”
His head turns and his lips sort of tilt in a semblance of a teeny, tiny smile. “Your magic will meet my needs. Read the—” He shakes his head. “That.” He points to the desk and disappears down the hallway.
“Okay, thank you.” My hands flap to my sides and I turn to take a hesitant step toward the innocuous-looking tablet. “Ooookay,” I grumble.
I shuffle closer to the desk and scoop it up.
It is a datapad, a ZS-T, which is the latest model.
I turn on the screen and wait impatiently, drumming my fingers on the desk.
“Thanks for explaining everything, Larry.” My top lip lifts in a snarl.
Is this place so bad that he did not want to stick around to tell me what’s what?
Not even a basic handover. As soon as I got my room key, he must have scarpered. No wonder he looked so happy.
The screen of the datapad remains blank. Did I break it? I press the power button a few more times.
“I broke it,” I mutter. What the heck am I going to do now? My heart feels like it drops through my chest. What do I do now?
I’m playing with this magic—unknown, powerful magic. I have no idea what the hell I am doing.
The magic just randomly does shit.
I’m so out of my depth… The datapad brightens and a cursor blinks. My mouth pops open as I watch the letters appear.
It writes: ‘Hello, Tuesday. What would you like to know?’ The cursor blinks and my hand hovers, frozen over the screen.
Uh-oh. If that isn’t the creepiest thing I have ever seen.