by Tasha Black
TRUTHS33K3R:
i dunno if that’s really weird. seems like that place would attract a lot of ultra-pale wannabe spooky types
BethsMom1972:
Truthseeker might be right. This guy sounds like he’s trying too hard.
TadStrange:
Keep your eyes peeled for someone trying too hard to fit in, that’ll be your ghost.
Dru laughed. Truthseeker was the ultimate skeptic, but in this case, he was probably right.
Gh0stwr1ter:
Point taken, guys. :) I also found a really old journal jammed in the back of a desk in my room.
TadStrange:
How old?
Gh0stwr1ter:
Hard to say. But the pages are yellowed and the glue is all orange and cracked.
BethsMom1972:
What’s written in it?
Gh0stwr1ter:
I don’t know because it looks like it’s in another language.
TadStrange:
Could have the location of the hidden treasure ;)
Gh0stwr1ter:
Unlikely. But it would be neat!
There was a ding indicating another member had arrived.
EctoCoolR:
Hey y’all! Guess who just watched the Jersey Devil episode?
Instantly the group devolved into a blow-by-blow rundown of that episode of Ghost Getters, from the paranormal activity, to Lily Getter’s pink Nirvana t-shirt and high-waisted jeans.
Dru followed along for a little while, but couldn’t really get into it since she hadn’t seen that one.
Truth be told, she hadn’t really watched much of the show at all, other than a few clips on the internet since joining the group. She was most interested in the aspects of it that had stimulated its audience, which the users documented for her nightly.
And although she was getting a dose of it right now, for once she couldn’t bring herself to take notes.
She signed off the forum and turned her attention to the typewriter instead. Time to get to work.
She had the setting for her novel figured out, and earlier today she had nailed down most of the character names. Now she was working through all their backgrounds.
It was amazing how much time she could spend writing without really writing. At this rate, she would still be night clerking at this hotel when she was as old as the Van Buren sisters that lived in the Amethyst room. And they had to be in their seventies, at least.
A particularly harsh gust of wind hit the hotel, rattling the windowpanes and causing the lights to flicker.
Dru shivered. And this time it was definitely out of fear.
You are not getting spooked, Dru Holloway, she told herself sternly. This is part of the charm.
The hotel was on top of a mountain. Of course it was buffeted by winds. Of course the electricity was at the mercy of the elements.
And of course she was going to lose her shit if the power went out.
5
Dru was finally in the zone, fingers clacking away on the keys of the old typewriter, when she heard someone cough.
She nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Hey there,” a deep voice said.
She glanced up, already knowing who she was going to see.
Brian Thompson leaned his considerable form on the counter, a thick gold chain with matching gold cross dangled freely from the collar of a very large shirt that had one button too many undone. For such a heavyset man, he was extremely self-confident.
“How can I help you, Mr. Thompson?” she asked as politely as she could.
“People still use these things?” he asked, with a smile that was a little too wide as he leaned over the robin’s-egg-blue typewriter. “I’m surprised it even works.”
Dru leaned back instinctively, putting some distance between them.
Hailey had warned her that the guy in the Opal room was always hanging out in the lobby for no reason other than to flirt, or at least to try to get a look down her blouse. But she also said he tipped very well, which was more that she could say for ninety percent of the guests she’d encountered. The very idea of tipping never seemed to cross most of their minds.
Still, she would rather go without tips than have to deal with some miscreant ogling her.
Thankfully, the miscreant in question had made a habit of sleeping through Dru’s shift.
Until now.
“It works just fine, Mr. Thompson,” she replied crisply. “What can I do for you?”
It wasn’t entirely true. The typewriter was kind of a bear to wrangle, and the number eight key didn’t work at all. But she wasn’t about it tell him that.
“What can you do for me?” he echoed significantly, letting the words trail off as if he were mentally listing out dirty suggestions.
She buttoned her lips and turned her attention back to her typewriter.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to offer me a drink?” Brian snapped when he noticed he was losing her undivided attention.
“Would you like a drink?” Dru asked, a little too politely.
“As a matter of fact, I would,” Brian said with another wolfish grin. “Why don’t you get yourself one too?”
“I’m on duty, Mr. Thompson,” Dru replied. “What would you like to drink?”
“I thought this place catered to guests,” Brian said in a voice he probably thought was seductive. “And I want you to cater to me by having a drink.”
Dru idly wondered how much it might damage a typewriter to drop it on someone’s head. She suspected it would pull through just fine.
“Miss Holloway,” another masculine voice cut in before she could respond. “I believe it’s time for my tour.”
Tour?
She glanced up to see Viktor Striker near the bottom of the stairs, surveying the scene below.
She wondered what it must look like, Brian Thompson leaning his bulk over her desk and her cheeks red with fury.
And here was Viktor, making up a fake tour to save her from having to deal with this idiot any longer.
A wave of gratitude swept through her and she jumped up from her stool.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Striker,” she said. “Mr. Thompson, my apologies, but I have an appointment with another guest. There is self-serve coffee and tea in the dining room. Unfortunately, no alcohol can be served, except by a staff member.”
“Hey,” Brian began to protest as he turned from the counter.
“Good evening,” Viktor said to him in a soft but steely voice.
Brian opened his mouth to retort.
Dru saw the moment he made eye contact with Viktor.
Whatever the big man had been about to say died in his throat, and Brian closed his mouth again and headed for the dining room without another word.
Dru turned to Viktor.
He observed her calmly, his expression less intense than before.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He gave her a half-smile.
“We’d better get started on our tour before he comes back.”
“Do you want a tour of the hotel?” Dru asked.
“There are trails in the woods, aren’t there?” Viktor asked.
“For bird watching,” Dru said, nodding.
“For bird watching,” Viktor allowed. “I would like to see them. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Of course,” Dru replied. “Let me grab my coat.”
It was a little odd to go out on the walking trails in the middle of the night, but it would be good to get some fresh air. And if she wasn’t at the desk when Brian Thompson came out of the dining room, hopefully he would just give up and go back to his room.
She put the bee-shaped, wooden Bee Right Back sign on the front desk and grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door.
Viktor stepped forward to open the door for her with a flourish.
“Thank you,” she said, stepping outside.
The air was cold and crisp. A million stars glittered above them.
<
br /> Viktor moved to join her.
“It’s always so lovely here,” he said, looking out over the woods.
“You’ve been here before?” she asked.
He turned to her as if remembering that she was there.
“It’s been a long time,” he said with a smile. “Where are the trails?”
“Oh, right,” she said. “This way.”
They walked on in silence, across the lawn and toward the trees on the northwest side of the hotel.
Viktor gazed up at the ruined north wing, with its darkened tower, as they passed.
“No one stays there?” he asked.
“They say it’s haunted,” she offered.
He chuckled.
“I mean, clearly it just needs attention,” she admitted. “It’s an old building,” she added, surprising herself with her urge to defend it.
“Old things do deserve attention,” Viktor said cryptically.
She glanced over at him, but he chose not to add to his observation. Maybe he was talking about his luggage. Or her typewriter.
“The moonlight is lovely,” he remarked.
He was right. The soft light sparkled on the crust of snow.
Dru’s breath plumed in the air in front of her. She zipped up her jacket.
“How long have you worked at Hemlock House?” Viktor asked.
“Only about a week,” Dru admitted.
“What brought you here?”
“I’m writing a book,” she told him.
“Really?” he asked, eyebrows lifted slightly. “What’s it about?”
“It’s just fiction,” she explained. “I thought this place might inspire me.”
Dru kept the genre to herself. She wasn’t ready for another condescending look when she told someone she was planning to write a horror novel. She’d gotten enough of that from the professors in her writing program.
“You’re not secretly here to look for treasure?” he asked.
“No,” she said with a smile. “How about you?”
“I just wanted to get away.”
That was a non-answer. She stole a glance at him.
He wore a slightly dreamy expression. The moonlight made his creamy skin almost seem to glow.
“Do you walk the trails often?” he asked her.
“Not really,” she said. “But I haven’t been here long.”
“So what do you do when you’re not working or writing?”
She didn’t bother to tell him that those were the same thing.
“Nothing, really,” she replied.
“That’s a shame,” he told her. “You’re young. You should take advantage of the chance to enjoy nature.”
“Okay, grandpa,” she teased.
He grinned at her.
“Yes, I know. You’re all of twenty, so you know everything.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m twenty-four,” Dru replied. “And I don’t know everything, but I do know that spending a lot of time in nature is not for me.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I’m accident prone, and I have allergies,” she told him.
“Nothing to be allergic to at this time of year,” he told her.
“True,” she agreed, taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air.
“Do you live at the hotel?” he asked.
“Yes,” she told him. “There’s a section in the south wing for staff.”
He nodded. “Does your room face the lawn or the woods?”
“Woods,” she said. “It’s really nice. I have a window seat and everything.”
They had just reached the entry to the first trail.
“Okay, I’m going to get out my flashlight,” she warned him. “It’s very bright.”
She slid the tactical flashlight out of her jacket pocket and clicked it on, focusing the beam on the trail.
Everything outside the beam’s reach disappeared into darkness as they stepped under the canopy of trees.
It was hard not to think about the fact that whatever had killed the rabbit earlier today was somewhere in these woods. It was probably just a hawk, but still…
She found herself listening for unfamiliar sounds. But there was nothing but the hoot of owls and the singing of the night birds.
“Are there still treehouses out here?” Viktor asked.
“Observation decks, yes,” she told him. “They’re meant for birdwatching.”
“I see,” he said.
They walked on, the trail leading around a few curves and decidedly uphill.
It was cold, but it felt good to get a little exercise. Back in Philly, she had walked almost everywhere, getting her muscles moving every day without thinking about it. Even just a week behind the desk was having an effect on her. It was good to stretch out.
It also felt nice to spend time with Viktor Striker. The slight attraction she’d felt before was warming into something more interesting.
They had just reached a spot where the path curved around a massive oak, when there was a rustling in the undergrowth and a flash of movement nearby.
Dru let out a bit of a scream, really more of an embarrassing squeak, but managed to train the beam of the flashlight on the furry thing before its bushy tail disappeared completely.
“A fox,” she breathed.
“We’re not the only ones out for a late-night stroll,” Viktor teased. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, distracted. “I guess that’s him.”
“You guess what?”
She turned to Viktor, remembering at the last second to lower the beam of the flashlight.
“There was a dead rabbit on the lawn earlier tonight,” she explained. “That fox must be the culprit.”
Viktor’s eyebrows went up slightly. “I see.”
“Though he didn’t eat it,” she went on. “Something must have scared him off.”
Viktor nodded.
“Should we turn back, or keep going?” she asked. “The trail loops back around eventually.”
“I hate to remind you, but do you need to get back to the desk?” he asked.
She winced. “Yeah, I probably should.”
“Then let’s turn back,” he said with a sad smile. “Maybe we’ll walk the whole trail another time.”
“Sure,” she heard herself say. “We’ll do it in the daytime when you can actually see everything.”
Frankly, she couldn’t believe she’d made it this far without tripping over something. In the daylight, she’d have a much better chance of not embarrassing herself.
Viktor’s smile faded, and he nodded tersely.
They turned around and headed back for the hotel.
Dru hadn’t realized how far they had come, it was impossible to even see the light of the old building through the trees.
“How long do you plan to work here?” Viktor asked, after a moment.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’m hoping to stay long enough to finish the book.”
“Then what?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she told him. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet, but I’ll probably go back to Philly. I have an apartment there. It’s small, but it’s really nice. A friend is housesitting for me right now.”
“Do you have a family?” he asked.
“My parents are out this way,” she told him. “I grew up in the area. We see each other as often as we can, but they work, and I stay busy.”
“Do you have a husband or a… boyfriend?” he asked.
She stopped in her tracks.
“I apologize,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be familiar, and I assure you I’m not trying to woo you like that oaf back in the lobby. I was merely curious to know more about you.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re just asking me a lot of questions.”
“You remind me of someone,” he said thoughtfully. “It makes me inquisitive. Forgive me.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Someone I k
new a long time ago,” he said, and turned his attention back to the trail.
That was the lamest cover job for a flubbed pick-up she had ever seen, but at least he had enough respect for her to know when his attentions weren’t wanted.
Only they might be wanted…
She jogged to catch up, scolding herself for thinking he was hot in the first place. What he was, was odd. And she was here to work, not to fraternize with the clientele.
Viktor was just so easy to talk to.
The path narrowed, and he let her lead the way, like before.
The warm yellow light from the windows of the hotel appeared between the branches of the trees.
For an instant, feeling that the goal was near, Dru let herself relax. Almost immediately, her foot caught on a tree root and she felt herself falling forward.
She flailed her arms, the beam of the flashlight strobing madly through the trees, and felt the instant when the last of her balance deserted her. There was nothing left to do but brace for the fall and hope she didn’t break anything.
The next thing she knew, she was upright, strong arms holding her.
“Drucilla,” Viktor murmured.
“God, how embarrassing,” she muttered.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low with concern.
She could feel the hard muscle of his chest through the thin material of his shirt.
Some cavewoman vestige in her wanted to press herself closer. It was good in his arms. Safe.
She fought it back.
“Fine,” she said, extricating herself. “I’m fine.”
“Alright,” he said, releasing her and leaving his hands up to show he was harmless.
“How did you catch me?” she asked.
“I was right in front of you,” he laughed. “I practically couldn’t help it.”
She would have sworn he was behind her. But she probably just got turned around in the fall.
“Let’s get back,” she said, ready to put the incident behind her.
“Of course,” he said. “You have your duties to attend.”
Mainly, she had to try to stay awake and maybe write something. But she wasn’t going to argue.
They walked back across the snowy meadow toward the front porch of Hemlock House.