Chapter 7 #2
“Where are we going?” His tone protested, but he didn’t pull away from my grip on his wrist. We crossed the lobby and hiked up the stairs.
“What would a crime lord do with an old hotel?”
Hunter flashed a brief smile that made my heart flip. “Crime lord, huh? You been binge-watching the Sopranos or something?”
“No, but that’s kind of what you said, right? This guy is like Tony Soprano?” We’d stopped on the second-floor landing.
“We will talk to Cobb. He might know more about him, but yeah, kind of like that. And I have no idea what he wants with the hotel.”
“He wants Master Anu.” Nigel was halfway up to the third floor. “Who wouldn’t? One can do anything with the power of the necromancer and the tablet. This way.” He turned and popped away again.
“How does he expect us to follow him when he does that?” Hunter muttered.
The hallway was empty, and we wandered down until the top half of Nigel’s body popped through one of the doors. He gave a quick wave and disappeared again.
“A show-off ghost. Great.”
I got there first and knocked. Nigel opened the door to let us in. Master Anu sat propped up in bed, watching TV in his underclothes. After an initial glance, he returned his focus to his program.
“Master Anu, do you remember us? I’m Hunter and this is Regge.” Hunter took the only chair in the room. I took a minute to peek into the bathroom.
A shaving kit sat open on the sink counter. Beside it, a folding straight razor was next to an old-fashioned round soap brush. A bottle of foul-smelling hair tonic sat in the kit, along with a small tortoiseshell comb. The old man didn’t have enough hair to worry with tonic, but each to their own.
Back in the room, the TV was off and Anu was gibbering away, his dull eyes sparking only occasionally. Beside him, reclining on the bed, Nigel was translating.
“He says he is safe as can be here. And his duty is to guard the sacred words.”
“The tablet.”
“Yes.” Nigel turned to the man, showing him my drawing. After another exchange, he handed the notepad back. “He remembers the men. The noise woke him up. But they left without incident the next morning.” He paused. “Until one came back. Last week. That’s when the demon came.”
“Oh my God.” Hunter ran his hands through his purple-streaked hair.
“Did you say demon?” Gods bless it. Mobsters, ghosts, wolves, and necromancers. Now there was a demon invasion? I let out a sigh. I desperately wanted a nap.
The Master spoke again, gesturing with his skinny arms.
Nigel’s gestures were offhand as he explained. “He says it was summoned. Fortunately, Master banished it almost immediately. He had to use considerable power to return the beast to his place. It took years off his life.”
“And what happened to the man?” Hunter asked.
Nigel translated. “He died. The witch woman too. His friend came and took him away.”
“Who would summon a demon? Is this a modern form of entertainment?” I asked. I’d never seen a demon, but I’d seen enough strange things to believe they existed.
“People do all kinds of weird shit for a taste of magical power, Reg.” Hunter shrugged.
I turned to Nigel. “Ask the Master what happens to you if he passes away.” He looked at the frail man in the bed. It seemed passing away was imminent. During this conversation, even.
The ghost and necromancer spoke again. When they finished, Nigel’s face was almost transparent. Then he shook himself and rematerialized. “The Master is my anchor, my energy. There is nothing to be done for it.”
A light tapping at the window made everyone jump. I relaxed seeing the dark corvid peek in.
“Do not worry, it is just Archie.” I pulled at the casement until I could open the window. Archie hopped onto the sill. He croaked and chittered at me like a scolding mother. I stroked his black iridescent feathers. “It’s all right, Arch. I am fine. What?”
“Vessel. Ghost. Vessel.” The sounds he made were clear as he cocked his head toward Nigel.
After his brief conversation with Nigel, Master Anu glanced at Archie and me. “Family.”
“Oh, so now he speaks English.” Hunter huffed at the ceiling.
I kept my attention on my familiar. “Archie is family. What are you on about, mate?” I asked him.
“Vessel,” he repeated.
“Vessel. Like a container of some sort.”
“Aye, aye, aye,” Archie cackled.
“You know you sound like a pirate when you say that,” I admonished before holding out my hand. Archie hopped—going from sill to hand to my shoulder. “A talisman. Could we anchor Nigel’s spirit to a vessel or talisman? Master Anu?”
“You are old.” Anu’s voice croaked as he swung his skinny legs out of bed. He stood, the effort eliciting a rough cough. He waved at Nigel with one hand as he doubled over. Nigel moved fast, a blur from the bed to the bathroom and back again, settling a silk dressing gown over Anu’s shoulders.
Another coughing spell was severe enough that Hunter fetched water from the bathroom and handed the paper cup to Nigel.
The ghost waited patiently by the man’s side, holding out the paper cup. Anu drank a few sips, cleared his throat, and pointed at me. “Old. Olden times.”
I’d worked hard on my modern English, but occasionally my phrasing often sounded formal and stilted. Most modern folk found me old-fashioned at best, weirdly archaic at worst, but no one would guess I was from another time. Time travel was not a known thing in the mundane world.
I nodded, straightened myself, and gave a short bow. “Regge North, sir. Late of London, Year of our Lord, sixteen hundred and one. I had the good fortune of meeting some extraordinary folk who brought me here to this time. Saved my life, they did. Have you traveled much to England? London?”
Anu’s dark eyes were runny and red-rimmed from his coughing fit. “Before.” He waved in my general direction.
“Before my time?” I threw a quick glance at Hunter. “Old, like we’d thought.”
“Yes. And look man, I’m sorry you’re sick or…” Hunter’s hand toggled in the air. “I’m guessing modern medicine can’t help you?”
Nigel explained. “Master Anu has led a long life. A life that is almost at its end. There is nothing to be done. Nor would he want it.”
“But what if we can save you, Nigel?” I fished for a couple of cat treats I kept on my person and fed them to Archie.
Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered the room.
“We also need to find the real owners of this place. If Master Anu knows anything about them, it will help. Even if we save Nigel, if this place gets condemned, he’ll have no place to go.
Everyone will be out of a home.” He gave me a look, and I followed him into the hall.
Away from Nigel and Anu, Hunter’s voice lowered.
“Regge, we can’t save everyone. Nigel is a ghost. He needs to move on. ”
“He doesn’t want to move on. He needs the hotel. This place is a haven for others. It needs a being like Nigel to keep things in order. We can get the necromancer to help him and get the owner’s name as well.”
“Hit men almost killed us for getting involved. You want to be more involved?”
“Hit men? Really? Now who’s watching the Sopranos? We will help, HB. You help people all the time. Why not now?” I didn’t wait for an answer.
Anu and Nigel were deep in conversation when Hunter followed me back into the room.
Nigel nodded and turned to us.
“With the right incantation, the right ingredients, he could do it. I could be tethered within the hotel.” The ghost smiled and clasped his hands together. “I could fulfill my duties as the night clerk. With your help of course.”
“Don’t you want to move on, to go wherever spirits go?” Hunter asked.
“To what purpose? Here, I have a job. A plan, a goal. I don’t remember much about my old life, but I have never felt more at home than here at the Fulbright.”
I gave him a reassuring expression. “We will take another look around. Ask Master Anu if he knows anything about Westridge Unlimited. That’s who owns the hotel, but that’s all we could find.
We need to fix up the hotel, Nigel. And help you stay here if you wish.
Perhaps we can get a doctor to look at Master Anu.
Our friend, Ziggy, er, specializes in a certain kind of patient. ” I looked at Hunter.
He sighed. “We can get whatever he needs for the ritual or whatever.”
We excused ourselves and scouted through the hallways on each floor, making sure doors were locked and hallway windows were secure.
I retrieved the necromancer’s sword from the terrace and propped it within reach of the hard-cushioned sofa in the lobby. We settled down—me at one end, Hunter at the other.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“Agreeing to help Nigel. I know you’d rather get on with things. Get the owner’s sign-off for renovations or whatever. Mostly so the others can return. You need your apartment back.”
“That’s not it. Helping Nigel may be more complicated than it seems. These things usually are.”
“So you don’t want your apartment back?” That’s why he was rushing to get the hotel repaired, right? So he didn’t have to stay with me anymore?
“Well, of course I do. But… that wasn’t why I… Never mind. What time are we being relieved?” Hunter’s eyes looked away, as though he wanted no further conversation.
“Dawn.”
He closed his eyes for a second. “We’ve got a few hours. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”
I wanted to argue that he should rest too, but I was tired, and he’d had a nap earlier. So I stretched out my legs, letting my head fall back against the unforgiving upholstery.
My thoughts rambled over the previous conversation with Abraham. “So who is in your apartment? Abraham said they were unique?” I asked.
“Eric and Derek would not fit in with the wolves at all. They’ve come into Pinkie’s a few times, claimed to be brothers, but look nothing alike.
Derek is the pretty one—he’s got to be descended from the upper fae.
Eric? Yeah. I have no idea, but I’m sure going to disinfect the entire apartment when I get back. ”
Chuckling, I settled in. Or tried to. After a few minutes of squirming around, I let out a sigh and closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
“Man, you’re never going to sleep like that. Come here.”
I opened my eyes to see Hunter, legs stretched out, a paperback in one hand as his other gestured to his lap. “Lie down.” At my hesitation, he put his book down. “Or I can move to the chair. That’s better.”
“No.” I scooted over and put my head on Hunter’s thigh, swinging my legs up over the opposite arm of the couch.
“There’s no pillow. You make a fine one.
” My lips curved up a bit, but my eyes were closed so I didn’t see if the smile was returned.
Suddenly comfortable, I settled, giving up a bigger sigh of contentment than I should have.