Chapter 6 #2
“No, but I’m going to see if that woman is.” With a grin, Ramon took his drink and slid off his stool.
Julian sighed. He nursed his drink until the ice melted.
After two more drinks for Ramon and his new friend, they left the bar. He turned to Julian as they passed, giving him a wink.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Julian nodded, paid the bill, and waited a few discreet minutes before taking the stairs up to his room. The elevator gave him the creeps, and he needed to get his steps in anyway.
Settling into his room, he sighed heavily at the laughter coming through the thin walls. Ramon’s main risk would be contracting an STD instead of exsanguination by vampire.
Julian showered quickly, pulled on the same pair of boxers, and scrolled through his phone. When the rhythmic thumping started, he lamented not carrying his headphones. At least Frank had dropped off a travel toothbrush, toothpaste, and razor at the front desk.
Hours later, he woke to someone pounding on his door in the predawn hours.
Ramon stood in the hallway, bare feet and chest, his eyes glassy and wide. “Goddamnit, Juli, I’ve been knocking for an hour.”
Julian smirked, stepping back to let him in. “What’s happened?” His words ended in a yawn. Ramon was obviously okay, so why did he have to wake him up at whatever godforsaken time it was.
“That was the most incredible fuck I’ve ever had.”
Oh, that’s why. He wanted to share.
The lithe man paced the small room, his hands gesticulating as he turned at the sideboard. “She was a witch. Had to be. She did the most amazing things with her tongue, and—”
Julian held up his hand. “Stop, please. I haven’t had coffee yet.”
“But she’s gone. Poof. Like that.” Ramon stopped his trek and snapped his fingers.
“This isn’t the first time a girl has disappeared on you after sex, is it?” He picked up his pants and tugged them on.
Ramon heaved himself into the corner chair, frowning. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He wore it longer, just past his ears, where Julian kept his neat and short. The two could be brothers; both had that Mediterranean skin tone and coloring.
“Usually I kick them out,” Ramon rambled on.
“Not this one. I was hoping for another go, but I needed a minute, yeah?” Ramon waved his hand.
“You get it. Anyway, I asked her to get us some water. She went into the bathroom and disappeared. I swear, Juli. She never came out. Finally I get up and knock on the door. There’s no answer and I’m thinking she’s like dead or passed out or something. Because I railed her good, you know?”
Julian sat on his bed and rubbed his eyes. “From the damn noise I had to put up with, I’m sure you were awesome, but whatever. What happened to the girl?”
“I don’t know.” Ramon shook his head in wonder. “The bathroom was empty. I figure maybe I dozed off and she snuck out, but all her clothes were still there. Shoes, panties, dress, everything.”
“How drunk was she that she left your room naked?”
“You don’t believe me? Come on, I’ll show you the dress.”
With another sigh, he followed Ramon to his room. Ramon unlocked the door and tossed it open with a flourish. They both stared from the hallway.
The room was even more spare and shabby than Julian’s.
But it had also been cleaned. The bed was made, trash emptied, no sign of a woman’s clothes.
Ramon’s bag had been packed and sat neatly by the door, his shirt draped over the back of a chair.
His Ferragamo shoes were buffed and shined beside his bag.
Julian checked outside for the room number. Right room. Ramon had been in Julian’s room five minutes at most.
“This is the weirdest hotel I’ve ever been to,” Julian said. “What housekeeping packs your bags for you and cleans at five a.m.?”
Ramon’s eyes lit up. “A supernatural hotel, that’s what.
I’m going to give them four stars on Yelp.
Wait, no. Then everyone will want to come here.
We’d have every ghost hunter showing up here with their EMF readers and their cameras.
I want this place to myself. Let’s go down to the front desk. ” He pulled the shirt off the chair.
“I’m going to get dressed before they clean my room.” Julian left him.
He didn’t hold much stock that the woman at the bar was a witch any more than the clerk was a vampire. But there was definitely something going on with the hotel. He also knew Ramon well enough to know that once he got an idea, he wouldn’t let it go.
What he’d hoped would be a simple night out in a forgotten hotel had turned into a mystery. And Ramon loved a mystery. He would stay here or keep coming back until he satisfied his curiosity. The man was an asshole, but occasionally he was a correct one.
Julian sighed, pushing his lackluster dinner aside. That night in the hotel had been the snowball start to the avalanche he faced now. Months later, he’d found Ramon and his mystery woman in the decrepit hotel. Both were dead now, and it was only a matter of time before Cesar discovered it.
Tonight he dumped the rest of his microwave meal in the trash and changed into dark jeans and a gray turtleneck. Hiring a ride share, he headed to the Hotel Fulbright.
A paper cup rolled down the sidewalk in front of the hotel. Julian picked it up gingerly and noted the police tape across the lobby doors. So far, no one had contacted him about the state of the hotel. A good thing, as he had enough on his plate with the Ramon problem.
Moving on down the block, he entered the crappy diner across the street.
He hadn’t seen anyone, but something told him to case the joint first. Julian was seriously questioning his sanity.
How did he even know if the necromancer was still there?
He sipped his coffee, eyeing the pecan pie in the circular display case by the register.
As he watched, two guys walked past the hotel, sauntering too casually to be casual. They slowed enough to look through the glass before continuing down the street. Julian turned back to the diner’s interior.
“Would you like a refill, hon?” The waitress stood over him with her pot of decaf.
He slid his cup over. “What happened to the hotel across the street? Is it open for business?”
She shuddered. “I don’t know, but cops keep showing up there.
Some kind of gas main broke. That’s what I heard.
But really—” She leaned down, showing enough cleavage to get lost in.
He refocused on her eyes. “It’s kind of a flop house, you know?
Sketchy. If you’re looking to stay, there’s a nice Holiday Inn a few blocks toward Fishtown. ”
“Thanks, but I was curious.”
“If you’re new in town then, I get off at ten. I could show you around.” She grinned. “I’m a bit of a night owl.”
“Not new in town. New to the area. Thought I’d check it out. I heard that the hotel is haunted.” He raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion, hoping for more info.
“Nope,” she said firmly. “Sketchy.” She swished away to pick up an order.
He leaned back against the cracked leather, facing the diner door. Old habits. The two guys casing the hotel entered. After a quick smile at the waitress, they navigated the narrow aisle between tables and booths.
Taller of the two, the blond was rangy, long-limbed, and good-looking.
His buddy was slight but not overly so, sharp features and soft eyes, haircut in a fade with a brilliant purple streak.
Julian dropped his eyes as they slid into the booth in front of him.
By the way he carried himself, the blond had seen violence in his life.
The other one looked like the only fight he’d ever had was on Call of Duty.
The blond faced the door, like Julian did, so his only view was sandy curls fringing the back of his collar. Both ordered coffee and pie, both kept watch on the hotel, either in tandem or individually.
Maybe these were the guys who’d managed to evade his men. The waitress lingered at their table, a big smile for the blond. The diner was too noisy to pick up on their conversation. Unable to drink another cup of mediocre coffee, Julian asked for the check.
When the waitress nodded and left, the blond turned around to face him, his arm casually over the back of the seat.
“Excuse me,” he said, his accent lilting. British or Irish, Julian wasn’t sure which. “The server said you were asking about the hotel. Can I ask your interest?”
Julian squinted at him. “I was making conversation.” His eyes drifted to where the gossipy waitress was clearing a table, before shifting back to the astute green eyes of the Brit. “Really, no interest. You?”
“Ah. We were looking for a friend who was staying there. But it seems it’s closed, so we are in a bit of a quandary, you see?”
Julian smiled slightly, both at the super polite language and the lie.
The kid was good, he’d give him that. Little signs in the way of micro expressions, no inflection either way.
If Julian hadn’t been such a good liar himself, he might have believed it.
“I heard there was some trouble there earlier. Maybe your friend was involved? You can talk to the cops.”
Purple hair scoffed and then cleared his throat, looking innocent.
Julian shifted his gaze from one to the other. “Not a fan of the cops, eh?” He shrugged. “I get it. Neither am I. But if your friend is in some kind of trouble…”
“Why would you think that?” British guy asked.
“Well, I don’t.” He wiped his mouth on his napkin and picked up his ticket before sliding out of the booth.
“I wish you luck in finding your friend.” Not waiting for anything further, he headed to the cash register.
He paid his bill and left a tip on his card, silently cursing himself for not having cash.
He needed no more ties to the area than he already had.
Stepping out onto the street, he pulled out his phone to order a ride.
And as he waited, he paced the sidewalk in front of the diner windows, casually raising his phone as though getting a signal, snapping a few pics.
Walking out of sight, he sent a quick text to Shorty.
It took a few minutes, but a response came back.
Despite the glare of the diner window, Shorty identified the two guys as those who’d helped the old man.