Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Owen. You’re okay!” Forrest drops to her knees beside us, her brother long forgotten. My gorgeous hellhound beams a smile at her like she hung the moon. My raging libido screeches to a halt and my addled heart hurts. My soul cracks a little.
He loves her. I can see it.
With a delicate hand, she pats his chest and I can’t help but grind my teeth as my eyes fixate on the motion.
Get off him. Everything inside me cries.
My magic whips out with fury. Forrest doesn’t even blink when the naked hellhound she is petting is suddenly dressed from head to toe in his normal black combat gear. Better.
“You had me worried there for a second, Nanny Hound. Never pull a stunt like that again. If you had died, I would have gone after you and dragged you from death, just to beat the crap out of you.” She huffs and then grumbles, “I’m glad you’re okay.” Then she hugs him. She loves him too.
Warm grey eyes catch mine over her head and he shrugs as if to say, what can I do?
My face contorts into a brittle smile and, with determination and a total lack of finesse, I scramble to my feet.
“I need to organise this mess. Please excuse me.” I turn on my heel and wobble away.
“See Larry if you need anything,” I say over my shoulder.
Owen is just someone my dad paid to help me.
There is no need for me to be upset and I am not the girl who will go after another girl’s man.
That is the worst thing to do to another person and now that I have seen Forrest in person, felt her power, it would be immoral, and frankly suicidal, to step on her toes. They love each other.
My stupid heart is eviscerated.
Instead of running away, like I want to, I reaffirm that I have a job to do.
I need to focus on what’s happening around me.
Owen must have opened the portal here for the warrior elves while he and Forrest tackled some big bad who uses illegal silver bombs.
I hope this wasn’t anything to do with the elf they were hunting, the one who tried to kidnap me.
As I stomp towards Larry, with each step, I feel more and more like hammered shit.
I am quite sure nobody can tell. I’m sure I am pulling off the hundred-percent-in-control-of-the-situation-vibe.
I have my manager face plastered on. Crikey, using all that magic in such a short span of time has drained my energy dry.
If this is going to be a typical day in my life as a host, I’m probably going to be dead before the end of the week. I shake off the macabre thought as a high energy protein bar is slapped in my hand.
“Oh. Thanks, Larry.”
“No problem. The way you wobbled across the room, I thought you needed it.” Well, there goes the idea that I’d nailed my getaway. I scowl and, with trembling hands, carefully unwrap the bar and stuff my face. I should wash my hands. They are still kind of gooey from the first elf.
As I chew, another man swaggers over to chat with Larry.
He is a shifter, with light hair. He is also dressed in black.
Huh. The shifters must work closely with the elves.
Which is strange. From my history lessons, working nicely together is unprecedented.
Shifters and elves have a nasty intense history of hating each other, and if I remember correctly, shifters may not set foot in Ireland.
It appears things have changed. I shrug. As long as there isn't a ruckus at the hotel and they aren’t trying to kill each other, it has nothing to do with me.
On our walk, I remember Owen saying he and Forrest were working in Ireland. I guess I was too busy drooling at Owen to put all that together.
“We will be out of your hair in an hour,” he tells Larry in a soft, lilting Irish accent.
“I didn’t even know this hotel existed. This is a pocket realm, right?
With the power buzzing around the room and the fact nobody can wander off as there is an impenetrable force field in place, all evidence points to the fact you must be a legendary host.” He slaps Larry on the shoulder. “That’s incredible.”
My eyes flick between them, and as I chew, my jaw aches. Why are these extra nutty protein bars like chomping on concrete?
“I’ve never met anyone alive with your branch of magic before. My boss would be interested in working with you.”
“Me? Working with me?” Larry splutters. His bright green eyes widen. “Oh, no, sir. You must have me confused. I am but a lowly servant of my mistress.” Larry presents me with a flourish of his hand and a click of his heels.
Cute.
“Hi,” I say, as I cover my mouth to hide my chomping. As my mouth is still full, the word comes out garbled. The empty wrapper crackles in my grip as I give the shifter a tired wave. The shifter stares at me as if I’ve got two heads.
“You? You’re the host?” he scoffs. “But you are just a girl.”
Dick.
I ignore his faux pas. Frankly I can’t be arsed.
On the plus side, at least I’ve finished the protein bar without getting any blood on it.
Go me. Larry hands me another. “Thank you. So an hour?” I ask, waving the protein bar as if trying to hurry the shifter along.
I have important things to do. Like… cry.
“You said you will all be leaving within the hour?”
As I unwrap the new bar, my hands no longer tremble. My energy levels have already increased. My lip curls at the state of my hands and in response magic washes across me, cleaning my navy dress and skin of any residual sweat, goo, and blood.
Handy.
I bite down on the new bar as the shifter chokes on his own spit. Oh dear, I have unintentionally shocked him with my quick clean up. I refrain from offering to pat him on the back. Perhaps Larry should, as they are so chummy.
“Yes, um… mistress?” the shifter mutters, his tone full of disbelief.
The word mistress coming from him hits a little bit below the belt. I wince and shake my head. “Oh no, none of that. Ignore Larry, please call me Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” His hard brown eyes narrow. I can almost see his mind churning as he rolls my name around in his head. “Don’t I know you? Aren’t you Matthew Larson’s daughter? The younger one?” He raises an eyebrow.
Oh no, he knows my dad. Can this day get any worse?
“The dud.” He nods sagely. “Your lack of magic has been truly exaggerated.”
“Can’t fool you, can I?” I fake titter. I need to get out of here. “Yes, I’m Tuesday Larson, and yes, I have host magic. You are? I know we’ve never met.” I drop the fake smile and narrow my eyes.
“Mac. Pleased to meet you, Tuesday.” He holds out his hand. After transferring my snack into my left hand, I reluctantly shake it. “No, we haven’t met, but I’ve seen a photograph of you in your father’s office.”
Oh. I nod wisely. Insinuating I know about the photo. I didn’t know Dad had a photo of me. It must be a group one. I clear my throat.
“So this is your pocket realm?”
“Yes.”
“Impressive.”
I back away from the shifter. “Well, I will just—”
“Our weapons?” Mac taps his thigh and narrows his eyes.
“Will be returned once you’ve entered the portal.”
“Thank you for your help,” he says reluctantly. “We wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for your timely portal and assistance. Please give your father my regards.”
“I will. Well, thank you for visiting The Sanctuary Hotel. I hope you visit us again, under less exciting circumstances. Larry will help if you need anything. If you will excuse me.” I don’t wait for confirmation and instead spin on my heel and hurry away.
I fixate my eyes on the door behind reception, not trusting myself to search out a certain hellhound. As I beat a hasty retreat, I catch the raspy voice of Forrest as she tears into Mac. “Sexist much? You’d think being my friend you would have learned not to be a dick.”