by Cat Adams
There’s a point at which even the best spa is taxed to the limit. “Um … I’ll see what I can do.”
“Where’s Emma?” Dawna’s voice was soft and painted with fear.
“Did you go to her room or did she come to yours?”
Dawna’s face brightened a little. “She came to mine. Do you think…?”
It was worth a try. I dialed room-to-room and a sleepy voice sounded on the other end of extension eight fourteen. “ ’Lo?”
My whole body collapsed with relief. I felt almost numb. “Em? Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay!”
Her voice sounded muffled, like it was under a pillow. “God, keep it down. I’m fine. I was asleep. My head is killing me from all that wine.”
Dawna started crying with almost hysterical intensity and Emma heard. Her voice became more alert: “What’s wrong? Celia, tell me what’s going on.”
I threw my head back against the wall and let out a long breath. “Keep the doors locked and turn on the magical barrier if you haven’t already. And keep a One Shot handy. Something was impersonating you. It’s dead now.”
Her voice got suddenly shaky as my words hit home, and her sniffling gave way to crying. “I need to get back to Birchwoods. Tell me we’re going back today.”
One crying on the phone and the other crying on the couch. My relaxing weekend with the girls had backfired big-time.
Just then there was a knock on the door and the announcement, “House detective. Ms. Graves? Could you open the door?” Great. The local law had arrived and I was wearing nothing but a robe that was covered with blood.
Yep. This day was going to suck moss-covered swamp rocks.
17
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t care what your corporate office said! I’m saying that your faulty barrier nearly got us killed.” I slammed my hand down on the front desk and then threw what used to be a snow-white towel onto the elegant marble. It landed with a moist thud, thanks to the fact that it was covered with blood and visceral chunks of what used to be a demon. “This would be me if I wasn’t a professional bodyguard who just happened to have the right tools on hand to kill this thing.”
Yes, I’d made sure the towel had been blessed before I marched off with it. But I wanted to make it crystal clear to the management that I’d nearly died … in their spa. I wasn’t a happy camper. Not only that, but my friends were suffering. Real therapeutic weekend.
The young desk clerk, whose name badge read Cyndi, turned white as a sheet and raced through the door into the office with a hand held over her mouth. The dark-skinned manager named Leonard made an expression of extreme distaste as his colleague noisily emptied her stomach behind the wall. He produced a trash can from behind the counter, grasped the towel’s one relatively clean corner, and pulled the bloody mess into the wastebasket. “Ms. Graves—that was unnecessarily vulgar. There’s no need to traumatize my staff.”
I threw up my hands and pointed to the elevator. “Why not share the love? I’ve got two traumatized friends upstairs and I want to know what you’re going to do about it. A demon should not have been able to get in this establishment. When did you really last have that barrier serviced?”
He looked down his nose at me and I didn’t appreciate it. At least the detective had treated me like a victim. He’d let me get dressed before he sealed the room to do his investigation. “As I explained to you, we regularly attend to maintenance of our security shield. The police will be here momentarily to investigate and we’ll let you know the result once we have the report.”
“And as I explained right back, there are many different levels of maintenance. Was the shield renewed this month? This quarter? Was it even this year? That has nothing to do with the investigation. Surely there’s an inspection certificate of some sort that I can look at. You have one in the elevator and in the kitchen. Isn’t that public information? Or should I start calling the news media to see if they can find out?”
That did it. He tried hard to control his features, but the panicked look on his face said that either he didn’t want any sort of bad press or he really didn’t want me to see an inspection report of the barrier. “That won’t be necessary, ma’am. The Oceanview Resort and Spa is always happy to satisfy our customers.”
And so began the negotiations.
It was nearly fifteen minutes later by the time the rooms and spa treatments were comped, my credit card was refunded, and I had a guest pass to “give us another try.”
I was shaking the hand of the nice manager, who by then was close to sweating bullets and not hiding it well, when Dawna came bolting out of the elevator. Panic preceded her like a cloud as she shouted, “Celia, you’ve got to come quick. Emma is totally freaking out!” Dawna held the elevator doors open, practically vibrating with anxiety.
Yay, she was talking again. But those weren’t the words I was hoping for.
Oh, crap. “I told her to stay in her room.” God, if she saw that mess … they were going to have to lock her in a rubber room. The buzzer started sounding and the doors were struggling to shut. The wide-eyed manager nearly shoved the gift certificate into my hand. I was betting he was planning to scoot out the door before anything else went wrong.
The elevator was a calm respite and I reveled for just a few moments in the soft music, dim lights, and elegant wood paneling. Dawna stood beside me with her eyes shut, probably trying to keep hold of her sanity.
Then the doors opened and sound and motion assaulted me. Two uniformed housekeepers were trying to hold Emma on the floor while the house detective was taking pictures of the “crime scene.” The Unitarian minister had apparently already left.
Emma was screaming as fast as she could draw breath. The pretty young Latina maid looked up at me as she struggled to keep Emma’s arms from thrashing enough to hurt herself. She had to shout to be heard over my friend’s screams: “My manager went to call nine-one-one. Maybe the EMTs can give her a sedative or something. The poor thing was beating her head into the wall. We were afraid she was going to really hurt herself!”
I knelt down beside Emma and cradled her face, forcing her to look at me, while the other women tried to hold her body still. “Emma! C’mon, girlfriend. Look at me. It’s Celia. You need to calm down.” I tried to get her to focus on my face, but I could tell right away that she was beyond actually seeing anything. Maybe they were right. A sedative was what she needed. Mostly, though, she needed to get back to Birchwoods. Unfortunately, that was better than seven hours away and I was afraid if we didn’t get her back there fast, she’d wind up in some hospital up here—and might never get out.
The detective let out a frustrated noise. “I wish we could put her somewhere soundproofed until the ambulance gets here. Or maybe just teleport her mouth somewhere.” He and the maids let out a chuckle, but the word made me get to my feet so fast the maids probably thought I was about to start screaming, too.
There are few things faster than a phone call. One of them is a teleporter. Combine the two and I might know a way to help Emma.
I skirted around the detective with an apology and raced for the phone while Emma’s screams made my ears ring. Complimentary room or not, I was betting they were going to stick this international call on my bill.
And probably the cost to clean up the blood that I’d just tracked farther into the room. Oops.
I turned on my nearly dead cell phone long enough to find the number of a recent call. I barely got the number written down before the phone died. The charger was somewhere in my bags, but I didn’t want to waste time looking for it.
The phone rang once, twice, then, “Kanalai Palace,” said the calm, unhurried voice on the other end, with a distinct accent I’d come to recognize. “How may I help you?”
“This is…” I paused, glancing at the detective who was taking in my conversation without seeming to. I didn’t really want to identify myself as royalty, but it was probably the only way people on the siren island were going to listen. I
turned away from him and lowered my voice. At least if he was going to listen in, he was going to have to work at it over the screaming. “Princess Celia. I have an emergency at my location and I need to know whether Okalani is available to transport someone to a physician.”
“An ambulance has been called, Ms. Graves.” The detective cocked his head and put a bloody bit of … something into an evidence bag. “There’s no need to call a second one.”
I raised my brows and put a hand over the speaker. “This is a little faster than an ambulance.”
There was a pause on the line and I knew the receptionist was probably contacting someone telepathically. “Of course, Princess. She’ll be right there. I have a caller ID on your location. Please don’t leave that immediate area.”
Okalani was a teenager from the Isle of Serenity—pretty, insecure, troubled. She wanted nothing more than to visit the mainland. I’d have to keep watch over her pretty carefully to avoid angering Lopaka any more, assuming, of course, that was even possible.
Okalani managed to avoid not only every bit of furniture but me and the demon remains as well. And she wasn’t alone. Adriana released the light grip she had on the teenager’s arm and smiled thinly at me. Okalani didn’t seem very happy, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she had a chaperone, regular teen angst, or something more serious.
More serious would be a problem. I needed to be able to trust her with Emma. I smiled at the girl whom I’d first met on her back with a knife at her throat. She’d snuck into my room and I’d considered her … gee, an intruder. Go figure. I had to shout over the screaming: “Hi, Okalani. Thanks for coming so quick!”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Adriana spoke first, holding out her delicate hand like I was supposed to kiss her ring or something. Fat chance. “Good afternoon, Celia. May I ask what the crisis is?”
I looked around the room, wondering what dimension she was in that it wasn’t completely obvious. “Can you not hear the screaming, Adriana?”
Okalani raised a tentative hand. “Princess, is that woman injured?”
Maybe I needed to just talk to Okalani. Adriana seemed really … distracted. The detective stepped over, his eyes a little wide at the sudden appearance of a dark-skinned teen in camo pants and a black tank top and a woman who would put pretty much every movie star to shame. “Ms. Graves, I can’t let these people—”
I knew what he was going to say. He didn’t want them to contaminate the crime scene. I understood that. I didn’t want there to be any question I was the good guy. “They’re only here to take my screaming friend to Birchwoods. Is that okay?”
He looked confused. “There’ll be additional footprints.” I could understand how he would think that.
“Okalani, could you and Adriana pop out to the hallway? My friend’s name is Emma and she needs to go to the Birchwoods. Do you have any idea where that is?”
Now Adriana finally joined the conversation: “I will touch your friend’s mind and see where the place is. Okalani will take us there.”
Oh! That’s right. They’d done that before. “Great. I appreciate this. Really. You won’t be able to teleport her inside the barrier, but if you deliver her just outside the gates they’ll bring her inside.”
Adriana nodded once, sharply, and shifted her black shoulder bag in a way that made me realize she was carrying something significant. “Please remain nearby. We must talk. It’s important.”
They were gone before I could respond, and the screaming cut off abruptly before either I or the detective could move around the bed enough to see out the door.
Dawna was standing in the hall with shock written all over her exotic features. She was staring down at the two maids who were getting to their feet and likewise looking confused. “What the heck just happened?”
I dusted my hands together. You couldn’t ask for a better resolution. “Emma’s back at Birchwoods. I called in a favor.”
Dawna looked confused. “What do you mean … back at Birchwoods? You mean, like … now?”
I nodded. “If you call the front gate right now, they’re probably just letting her inside the shield.” In fact, I probably did need to call Gwen to let her know what had happened.
I was betting it wasn’t going to be a happy call.
* * *
“I know it wasn’t intentional, Celia. I do. And the situation at the prison couldn’t have been predicted by anyone.” I could hear a big “but” in Gwen’s voice. “But—”
Yep. There it was.
“It would have been better if you’d brought her down last night rather than having her go back to the spa.”
I wasn’t trying to argue. Truly. But that just didn’t make sense to me. “I was accompanying Mr. Creede, who was driving a two-seater car at over a hundred miles an hour for four hours. Wouldn’t that have been just a bit stressful by itself? Yes, I made the mistake of presuming the spa’s security barrier matched the place’s five-star rating. But I think anyone else would have done the same thing. If not for that, this wouldn’t have happened.”
There was a long pause and I could hear whispering in the background. “Emma is back in her room. She’s calm now that she’s been given a sedative. But we’ll have to restrict her movements until we can evaluate her.” Gwen let out a long sigh and I could imagine her eyes closing while she centered herself. “This whole situation has been unfortunate, but I certainly can’t find any reason to blame you for the events. We’ll just have to chalk it up to bad luck.”
I let out a sigh and shook my head. Dawna, sitting beside me with a sad expression on her face, reached over to touch my hand and then pat it, offering what little comfort she could. Yeah, I suppose a demonic death curse could qualify as bad luck. Damn demons were apparently drawn to me like honey.
“Celia, we must speak now.” I looked up to where Adriana was now standing over the couch in the lobby. I held up a finger to shush her while I finished the call.
“Gwen, we’re going to have to talk about this later if that’s okay. They need me back upstairs.”
“Of course. I understand. We’ll discuss it after your therapy session with Dr. Hubbard next Thursday.”
Crap. I’d forgotten about that. It was probably on my calendar, but I’d intentionally not looked at it except to cancel things for the weekend. “Fine. That’ll work. Bye.”
I pressed the end button and scooted over on the couch to make room for my cousin. Her elegantly arched brows rose just a fraction. “Might as well have a seat. I know teleporting always makes me dizzy. Where’s Okalani?”
Adriana didn’t sit. She stood there with obvious discomfort, clutching the black zippered bag for dear life. “I sent her back home. I’ll call when I need her again.”
Aww. Poor kid. Fifteen minutes on the mainland and she has to go home. “Couldn’t you at least have taken her to a water park or a movie or something?”
But she wouldn’t budge. “We’re already having difficulty keeping her from clandestine visits here. Having enjoyable experiences would only validate her behavior and make her want to disobey more.”
“See, I have just the opposite opinion. If you let her have a taste now and again, she won’t be as likely to disobey because she’ll know there’ll be a next time.”
Adriana shrugged carelessly. “But you aren’t her mother. Nor am I.”
True. It wasn’t my place to say how she was raised.
“Um … Celia?” Dawna’s voice cut in. “Were you going to introduce us or something?”
Oh. Oops. “Dawna Long, this is Adriana, high princess of the Pacific siren clan.” Then I looked at Adriana. “Adriana, Dawna Long. Although pretty soon it’ll be Queen Adriana, huh?”
That raised Dawna’s eyebrows. “Whoa. You’re getting the throne? Sweet.”
Adriana’s face flushed just a bit and her tone took on an impatience tinged with panic: “There will be no wedding unless we speak. Now. And this is not the place for the discussion.”
That wasn’t good. “I’ll have to check with the police to see if we can leave. If so, we can talk in the car on the way back home. It’s a long trip. We’ll have plenty of time and privacy.”
Her eyes flicked toward Dawna. “Can your servant be trusted to hold her tongue?”
The look on Dawna’s face was priceless—a classic oh no, you didn’t! expression. Unfortunately, my phone was still dead, so I couldn’t get a picture. Dawna opened her mouth to start spewing an offended response, but I interrupted with a laugh and a hand on her arm. We didn’t need to escalate. Adriana had a pretty thin skin, too. “It’s okay, Dawna. Remember that she’s a princess. Servants and attendants are all she knows.” Then I looked at my cousin. “Dawna is my best friend and an employee of my security company. She’s not a servant in the sense you mean. But yes, she knows how to hold her tongue.”
At least Adriana had the sense and courtesy to dip her head a fraction at Dawna after a second of consideration. “Apologies. I’m unaccustomed to princesses of the realm having … employees.”
Or friends, I was betting. Dawna looked slightly mollified and her expression went through a few transformations before settling on oh, well. “Yeah … well, I’m not accustomed to Celia being a princess. We’ll all have to adapt, I guess. How about I go check with the police to see if we can leave? I’ll meet you two at the car.”
I was going to suggest that, but it sounded less … princessy coming from her. “Thanks. If they still need me, just yell.” I was actually surprised they hadn’t come to get me already for a statement. I wasn’t sure what was up.
* * *
I was still unlocking the car when Dawna came up behind me, a strange expression on her face. “No statements required. They said they didn’t want to inconvenience us any further. We can go.” She shook her head and reached for the backseat door handle. “They were acting really weird. All smiles and apologies. Not coplike at all.”
That made me let out a little growl and look over the roof at the stunning redhead waiting for me to unlock the doors. “Did you manipulate them?” Because I sure as hell hadn’t.