Chapter 8 #2
“Oh no, you must have me confused with someone else,” I quickly interrupt.
Oh heck, now I feel bad. I don’t want to be the reason that his glowy smile leaves his face.
“My car broke down.” I point lamely over my shoulder, in the direction of the car park.
“Yeah, the power of the car got sucked right out. Even my phone stopped working.” I narrow my eyes.
“Oh… well, okay.” He scratches his nose. “That explains a lot,” he mutters, but then he beams a warm smile at me and claps his hands again. “Let’s get you booked in. I presume you’re staying and don’t want to just use the phone?”
“Yes, please. I’ll stay for the night.”
“Perfect, that’s perfect.” He spins and pulls a key from the old-fashioned key hooks hanging on the wall. Twelve rooms. The key from the number one hook is missing, which means there might be another guest. He places the key to room twelve on the desk and then drops to a crouch.
My hand strays to my pocket with the sleeping gun. What is he doing? As I rise on my toes to peer over the desk to see what he is up to, he pops back up with a—I frown—I can only describe it as a tome. It smacks down so hard that the desk vibrates.
What the heck is that?
Has this guy never heard of a computer? No wonder the place is so quiet. Wide-eyed, I stare at the enormous book.
The old spine creaks as he opens it to a blank page, and as he spins it towards me, dust and god knows what sprinkles onto the desk. I wrinkle my nose.
“If you would just pop down your name and sign here.” He points to a spot and places a pen next to the book.
I shimmy forward and glance down at where his finger is indicating.
“Here?” I ask with a frown.
I read fiction; I don’t read tome or whatever the heck this is. Should I really be signing my name into an ancient-looking book? Urm, no.
No, I should not.
Crap. I can feel my whole body ache with disappointment. It seems we will be sleeping in the car. I wish I had a human-sized version of Daisy’s travel bubble. I open my mouth to make an excuse and then—
I’m signing the stupid book.
What the fuck? What happened?
I blink a few times and take the offered key. I blink again and then I am standing in a clean but shabby room. Which thankfully doesn’t smell of feet.
What the heck just happened? Was that magic?
The same magic that messed up the car and the phone?
I sink to the bed and put my head in my hands.
“I’ve gone and done it now. Signed my life away.
Demons. I bet demons are involved.” I shudder.
“My parents are going to kill me.” Ha, the first thing that comes to mind is the inevitable “I told you so” lecture from my parents, not dying horribly. “I am seriously fudged up.”
Then there is this feeling, an inner feeling of being safe, of being home.
I’ve never felt that.
Wow, now that’s sad. I’ve never felt safe or content, no matter how successful I have become professionally. I’ve always felt something is off, missing, and that I am… in the wrong place. Now everything inside me screams I’m okay. Here is where I am meant to be.
I flop back onto the bed. I know a lot about magic.
Even though I am a dud, I’m still a witch.
I have felt the worst kind of magic as it trips my tongue and controls my words.
My fists clench. Yeah, thanks to my mum, I have had years of a potion working on my mind, so I can tell when I am artificially being controlled.
I can feel it. This isn’t that. No matter how powerful magic can be, it can’t alter what you feel inside. Your inner voice.
I pluck at the covers and my eyes trace the lines of a dark blob on the ceiling.
I need to be honest; it wasn’t magic that made me sign that book—well, not outside magic anyway—it was something inside me.
My face scrunches up. I think it was like, inner me took hold of my body, took me for a joy ride for a few minutes. I shake my head and blow out a breath.
And isn’t that freaky?
What I feel about this place is genuine. It must be. But that doesn’t mean I am going to be an idiot and walk around blindly. No, it just means I am going to find out what the heck is going on. Tomorrow.
With a tired groan, I get up. I pull the plastic gun from my pocket and pop it on the bedside table within easy reach.
Even though I feel like crap and my head is swimming with fatigue, I’m also feeling icky from the long car journey, so I run myself a bath. I don’t have a bathtub in my flat, so having a long soak is a well-deserved treat.
Before I strip off, I dig out a temporary ward and set it up to protect the entire room. It’s a strong one, with both Diane and Jodie’s combined magic. At least if anything untoward happens, I will have a warning as the ward will wake me up.
I check the floor for safety, making sure there’s nothing hidden that could hurt Daisy, and then I touch her travel bubble and the door opens. Inside, my little dragon is adorably snoring.
When she wakes up, she’ll be able to come in and out as she pleases. Though, knowing Daisy, she’ll wait till the very last moment to pee, so I set the bubble close to the bathroom and use another tray and remaining shavings for a temporary dragon toilet before also setting up her food and water.
I then fiddle with the phone. Miraculously, it works.
Hi Owen, it’s Tuesday. I am safe, but the car died.
I think it’s an electric issue. I didn’t crash it!
I’m staying the night at The Sanctuary Hotel.
It’s about thirty minutes from the safe house.
Will you do me a favour and let my coven know?
The phone you gave me also has an issue and it keeps dying.
I will use the hotel phone to ring my dad in the morning. Thank you x
I quickly press send before the phone can decide to quit and the message wings its way into the ether.
Ah crap. I wince when I re-read it. The kiss at the end. A kiss. I groan and rub the back of my neck. Why did I do that? I added it on without thinking. I nibble on my nail. Of course, it’s gone now. Then the stupid phone flashes and the screen goes grey. It shuts down. Dead.
Gah. I tap the phone against my thigh as I rub my face.
At least he knows where I am, right? In my mind’s eye, I see Miss Piggy dramatically blow a kiss to an unimpressed Kermit while saying kissy-kissy-kissy.
A kiss on a text is friendly, right? With another wince and a helpless shrug, I stuff the phone away.
I groan at the splash in the steamy bathroom and the echoing flap of wet wings. “Oh, it sounds like it is dragonette bath time,” I grumble. “I hope they’ve given me a lot of towels. We’re going to need them.”
Before I enter the bath battlefield, I drop to my knees and open the suitcase. I push the knives Forrest has packed for me to the side. Who needs six silver blades and two iron ones, but no underwear? That woman has serious issues.
I pop a knife on the bedside table and empty my pockets of all potions, lining them up for easy throwing, just in case.
A small giggle of disbelief slips from my lips as I grab some fluffy, pink unicorn pyjamas. Although they are adorable, I would never in a million years buy them for myself.
Knives and unicorns. Forrest seems really weird.