Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Regge finds out what he gets for helping ghosts
The evening after the camping trip, we returned to the hotel. We’d intended to deliver the items for the severance ritual to Nigel and leave, but Hunter had a feeling we needed to be there. By this time, I had learned to trust his instincts.
“The sisters gave me some instructions to set up some wards.” Hunter pulled out his phone to peruse his texts. “Just some basic sigils against outside violence or intention. Kind of what they did for the bar.”
“Good idea. I’ll check in with Nigel.” I hesitated. “Unless you need help?”
Hunter, intent on his work, was chalking a sigil on the front wall. He looked up, his eyes warm and affectionate. “I’m good. I’m also going to give Cobb a ring, just to fill him in.”
Pery, the wolf watching the place, said he and two others would be back at ten this evening to take over. I heard the side door slam behind him and headed for the front desk. Evening had cast a widow’s veil of gloom over the lobby as Nigel shimmered into view, his usual welcome severely subdued.
“Nigel, are you okay?”
“I’m sad to be losing this vessel.” He fiddled with his ever-present tie. “I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it. Though I will loathe to become a cup or pen or ink blotter.” He shuddered.
At his words, I was immediately reminiscent of an animated film about talking cups and pots and lamps. No. I could not imagine Nigel as an ink blotter. Whatever that was. “It is better than not being here at all, correct?”
“True. But I find this body to be quite pleasing. Quite handsome, in fact.”
Hunter came up to the desk, quirking an eyebrow at Nigel’s comment. “We should get started. Is Master Anu ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he made for the stairs.
Nigel was not giving up so easily. “Do you not agree with me, Mr. Hunter? Is this vessel not a thing of beauty. Handsome?”
Hunter stopped his stride across the room and looked at Nigel.
“Everyone has a different idea of handsome, or beauty if you will. Beauty can be in the sunlight through the early-morning glass, or a pretty cloud, so my opinion doesn’t say much.
” He continued his trek to the stairs, but on the first step, he stopped and said, “I like you, Nigel. And you are an excellent night clerk. Perfect for this hotel. But you and I are average-looking at best. Look at Regge. He is handsome.” He headed up the stairs.
I wanted to stop him. Tease him or thank him or something. But I was speechless. I glanced at Nigel’s brow arching as he inspected me. He sniffed.
“Well, shall we go and get rid of this average-looking body then?”
He popped out of existence. On the third floor, I fell into step with Hunter.
“I think you hurt his feelings.”
Hunter shrugged, his fingers brushing my hand. “I was telling the truth.”
“You are not average-looking. I find you—”
Nigel wafted into view through a wall. “There’s more room in here.” He guided us to the blasted area of the damaged rooms. The debris had been cleared away, leaving a fairly large open space in the center.
Anu seemed to feel better today—his dark eyes alert and watchful, his movements lighter. Hunter commented on the empty IV bag attached to a curtain rod, its tubing hanging uselessly on the floor. “Ziggy came prepared as always.” He looked at me but lifted his chin at Anu.
“She said there was not much she could do. That he needs a hospital, but even then, it’s…” My voice dropped, not wanting Nigel to hear.
“He looks spry enough today.”
Nigel turned from Anu.
“Master says the strongest energy is here. Did you bring everything?”
“Yes.” Hunter set the grocery bag on the burned carpet. “Though getting pure silver alloy is tough. And you didn’t specify amounts of anything.”
In the end, we’d played metalsmiths and chemists, melting down Izzy’s grandmother’s serving spoons until the metals separated. Hunter gave Anu a shapeless gray blob about the size of a golf ball.
Anu pulled a large knife and began peeling the metal like an apple, dropping little shavings in a large circle. Intrigued, I wanted to know how the knife kept its edge when slicing metal. Perhaps it was magic, like the sword.
“The silver keeps the other dead from coming in. This is a transference, and we don’t want some random spirit jumping in where he’s not wanted.” Nigel’s expression was a haughty one—unusual for him. “He wouldn’t be qualified to do the job.”
The various ingredients handed over, me and Hunter stood off to the side, watching as Nigel and Anu laid things out, mixed others, and lit candles.
I noted that the necromancer had Theo’s trick of producing a flame by snapping his fingers.
Something I’d begged Theo to teach me. Hunter let out a small laugh. He’d seen it too.
Still watching the two working in the circle, I leaned closer to Hunter. “You think I’m handsome, huh?” I’d merely wanted to ease the tension, to maintain our camaraderie.
Hunter was quiet for another second or two before turning to me fully. “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
My breath caught in my throat. So much for teasing.
“Mr. Hunter, if you please,” Nigel said. “I need you here to hold this cup.” He pointed to a spot on the floor. Hunter moved away.
“Mr. Regge, you’ll be here.” Nigel pointed.
I didn’t move until the necromancer tugged at my arm impatiently, moving me into position.
“He says you must concentrate.” Nigel’s face became translucent for a moment.
“This is my existence we’re saving here.
” His foot stomped but disappeared into the floorboards without a sound.
With an effort he withdrew it and placed it carefully on the floor.
“Please save your gobsmacking for later.”
Anu tsked at Nigel, and the ghost fell silent. The wizard stood in the center of the circle, his hands held out, palms up as he murmured an ancient incantation. In front of him was a large antique vase. Not valuable but a nice home for a ghost.
Across the circle, my gaze locked onto Hunter. My palms tingled as my face grew hot. Hunter was the best friend I had in this world. And last night in the woods had been wonderful.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew I had a pleasant face. In the past, it afforded an advantage in talking my way out of trouble or making a sale in the apothecary shop or even to flirt with a noblewoman while I picked her husband’s purse.
In this new life, I’d given up thieving, and if a pleasant encounter with a bar patron led to more tips, I was not above it, but I was far from beautiful.
My nose was too piggish, my cheeks too gaunt, and my sandy hair was neither blond nor brown.
And I couldn’t grow a decent beard to save my life.
Still, the words made me feel… nice. Warm and good.
And then Hunter’s gaze across the circle seared into me and warmth turned to heat, and my trousers seemed to shrink against me.
Oh, bloody hell, I had to control myself. I focused on the necromancer.
Master Anu was trembling with effort, skinny arms up, a large medallion spinning in midair between his hands. The disk was maybe three inches in diameter, bronze or copper with some engravings I couldn’t make out. This must be the ancient tablet.
The room started to shake, candles flickering with an odd-colored light that spun up into swirls with the tablet. Nigel cried out as his body started to disappear completely. The vase wobbled on the floor.
Looking up, I saw Hunter’s gaze across the circle again, checking to make sure I was okay. I gave him a nod just as a crash sounded in the hallway. Both of us turned toward the noise.
A man ran past us, then doubled back and burst into the room, knocking Hunter aside.
I only had a second to recognize him—the tattooed mobster—before the shavings on the floor scattered breaking the protective circle.
The air crackled. I went after the tattooed man as Hunter grabbed Anu and pulled him to the side.
Julian Eskridge barreled through the opening, slamming into me. I rolled and swung toward his gut.
My fist hit solid muscle, but I heard a satisfying grunt. Hunter had righted himself and was scrapping with the first man. I swore as I grappled with Julian. We were about the same height, but he was built like an anvil and hit like a smithy.
In the background, Anu’s chanting continued. Hunter was holding his own with the tattooed man. His sense of timing making up for his slighter build.
The air in the room grew heavy with curses and grunts of effort.
The walls shook, plaster dust filled the air again.
I couldn’t get a full breath. The candles flickered and extinguished.
The vase to be Nigel’s new home was knocked aside, rolling against a wall.
A large painting, its frame and edges black with smoke damage, crashed onto the floor.
Eskridge pushed out of my grasp and headed for the door. Behind me, I heard Nigel’s disembodied voice. “Oh no. Oh no.” Then nothing.
“Philly PD.” Cobb roared as he burst into the room, blood dripping from his forehead. His big fist punched the tattooed man and rocked him back where he fell onto the vase, crushing it under him. “Grab the old guy,” Cobb yelled.
I scrambled up, grabbing for Eskridge and missing. Tattooed man shot at Cobb, the gun clicking harmlessly in his hand. After pulling the trigger twice more and getting nothing, he tossed the gun and bolted. Anu shrieked. Cobb swore. I jumped for the man and Julian.
A surge of power boiled through the room. The invisible force tossed Hunter against one wall, Cobb against another. I hit the floor and rolled as the entire hotel plunged into darkness.