Paranormal Nights

by CJ Ellisson

  His eyes widen slightly and then travel down my torso and back to my face. “Are you sure you’re going to the V V Inn?”

  This pisses me off. Maybe he’s used to wealthy clients that aren’t dressed in capris and flip flops. “Lisa Carron.” I stare at him, as if my name should answer all his questions.

  He checks his computer and then looks back at me, his smile tight. “Yep, you’re on the schedule.”

  No shit, Sherlock. “Great. What now?”

  He opens the door next to the glass and ushers me in, relieving me of my bag as I pass him. “I’ll take you to the lounge and the pilot will get you when it’s time to board.”

  “Thank you.”

  The corridor he leads me down is narrow and rather dark. After a minute he stops at a smooth wooden door and opens it. “You can wait in here.”

  To say I’m surprised when I step inside is an understatement. What I thought would be a utilitarian waiting area turns out to be a plush lounge. So this is how the other half lives.

  Leather furniture is arranged in groupings, making conversation easy. I zero in on the snack bar—mainly the beverages supplies. Everything from bottled water to wine.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” The guy sets my bag on a luggage rack. “There’s snacks and drinks.” He points to a computer. “You’ve even got free internet access. The only thing you can’t do is watch porn.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Oh darn, how will I spend my time?”

  He smirks and I realize he was joking. Funny. He glances at his watch. “It will probably be about forty minutes until you board. Remote for the television is on the table. Bathroom is behind you. And if you have any questions just pick up the black phone and hit one. It’s a direct line to me.”

  “Thank you,” I say again. I won’t lie, I’m anxious for him to leave so I can enjoy the room. Rarely do I get time alone. Never in such a posh environment. I nod. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll let them know you’re here.” He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

  For forty minutes I bask in the luxury of the lounge. Strawberries, honey roasted peanuts, and chocolate wafers. I try to open a cabinet labeled coffee, but it’s locked. No matter, I’d rather have a glass of wine.

  Too soon I’m ushered out the room and onto a plane by a stoic, heavily bearded pilot. He looks more like a lumber jack but in Alaska that’s not unusual. With as few words as possible he gets me settled in one of the eight seats. Besides the pilot, I’m the only passenger. There’s no safety briefing beyond buckling up. I ease forward to look out the window. I don’t love small planes and I send up a silent prayer that we won’t crash. Maybe being a grim reaper on the job gives me added protection—at least I hope it does.

  My stomach does a little flip when the nose of the plane lifts, pulling us into the sky. Fairbanks isn’t a huge place and within minutes we’re beyond the city limits and flying over bush Alaska. Rivers wind across the county side. While still at a low altitude I scan the ground passing below us. Even though they’re tough to spot, I catch a glimpse of two moose in a stand of trees. They look like brown dots and I probably wouldn’t have seen them if one hadn’t been walking.

  But soon we’re too high to make out details so I relax. The flight is just over an hour, maybe two depending on the winds. On a map, Coldfoot doesn’t look that far, but Alaska is a lot bigger than people think.

  The drone of the engines eventually lulls me to sleep. I must have been more tired than I thought because I wake up when the plane banks left, into a pass. I scoot forward to look out the window again. Cabins dot the landscape but when we enter the pass any sign of people disappears.

  The mountains rise on both sides of the plane. Thin waterfalls pour out of cracks in the rock face, dropping hundreds of feet. My stomach lurches slightly and I feel the plane nose downward. I press my face to the window, trying to see where the pilot plans to land.

  A couple minutes later the narrow pass opens to wide tundra. Groves of trees spot the landscape and a river branches to the right. The beauty of the area takes my breath away. I’ve lived here all my life but I never get tired of the scenery.

  I glance down, my eyes rounding. Below the plane is a pack of what looks like wolves. No way, they must be huskies. Maybe somebody at the inn runs a team. They appear a lot bigger than any huskies I’ve ever seen though, but it’s hard to tell from this height. When the pilot banks the plane I glimpse the inn.

  At first I’m not sure what I’m seeing. The place is huge. In the middle of nowhere, sat a long main building with a wing off the back. Dozens of buildings litter the area. Some look like cabins. Others are bigger, maybe apartments. It’s like a hidden wonderland. If this is how the rich and famous live, sign me up.

  As the plane approaches, I wonder what my room will be like. I could handle a few more days of luxury accommodations. We touch down on a wide gravel strip and taxi to a hangar. Several vehicles are parked and I see a man standing near a black SUV, obviously waiting for the plane.

  He’s hot. Not just good looking, but rugged and sexy in flannel and jeans. Just the way I like them. It’s nice to know that even though I’ve been a widow for over a year I’m not dead inside. I appreciate a nice tush or rock hard abs as much as the next gal.

  The plane stops and the engines power down. I stand, slightly hunched and sidle between the seats to the door. After a minute it opens and the Alaskan sunlight streams in. I glance at my phone. It’s nearly seven p.m. That’s another thing I love about summer here, twenty four hours of daylight above the Arctic Circle.

  As I exit the plane the hot guy offers his hand. “Watch your step.”

  I attempt an easy smile and accept his assistance. The last thing I want is to end up face down on the ground. “Thanks.” His hand is hot. Not sweaty, ick hot, but the kind of warmth that seeps into my skin. I ignore the shiver that ripples through me. “I’m Lisa Carron.”

  “Yeah, we heard you were coming.” He let’s go of my hand. “I’m Jon.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jon.” From his tone I get the impression he’s not thrilled about my arrival. Is that because I’m a reaper? I’m not sure how to broach the subject so I just dive in. “So, do you know why I’m here?”

  He picks up my bag from the ground where the pilot set it and walks toward the black SUV. “Yep.”

  I take a couple of skipping steps to catch up with him. “What were you told?”

  “That you were here to take care of our ghost problem.” He pulls the back door open and tosses my bag on the seat. Then he turns and looks at me. I skid to a stop. His eyes, though a beautiful hazel, are unwelcoming. “That you’re some kind of grim reaper.”

  The fact he knows surprises me. “Not some kind of grim reaper. I am a reaper.”

  His brow furrows and he nods. “Okay, you are a reaper.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe but it’s true.”

  “Get in.” He opens the driver’s door and slides onto the seat, shutting it in my face.

  “Okay.” Jackass. I circle the SUV and climb in. We’re silent for a few seconds as he shoves the car into gear and edges onto the road. Tension zings between us. Always one to try and fill an awkward silence I start to ramble. “You may not believe this but the supernatural world does exist.”

  He snorts and looks at me like I’m a complete idiot. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Do you even know where you are?”

  I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but I give him my sweetest smile. “An Alaskan resort for the most—” I lift my hands and make air quotes. “The most elite.”

  He gives me a look crossed between confusion and wariness. After a few seconds he focuses on the road. “Okay, because for a second I wasn’t sure you understood the scope of this.”

  “Don’t worry, Jon, I get it.” I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Discreet and quick. Those are my orders.”

&nbs
p; We don’t speak again until we reach the inn. It takes all my effort not to gawk and gush at the sight of the building. The place is bigger than I thought, like a ginormous plantation mansion in the middle of bum frickin’ nowhere. Despite the bright sun, the place has an ominous feel. As I exit the SUV I notice the windows are draped or sealed in some way. Maybe it’s closed for the season, which would be weird because summer is prime tourist time in Alaska.

  Maybe the ghost I’m to reap has caused so much havoc they had to shut down the place. I follow Jon up the steps to the sprawling front porch and into the inn. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but I see the interior is impressive. Soaring ceilings, wood everywhere, definitely a hangout for the wealthy.

  “Why is it so dark in here?” I ask.

  Jon snickers but doesn’t answer my question. “Asa, this is Lisa.” He drops my bag on the ground. “Seems she’s a reaper and… she’s all yours.” He walks to the registration counter and leans against it, scowling at me.

  “Ignore him,” a male voice says from my right. I turn to see another guy walking out of the shadows. “Jon’s a little short on manners.”

  Wow, he’s drop dead gorgeous. Young, buff, and all Vin Deisel-ish, I think my panties just caught on fire. “Hi.” My voice comes out a little too breathy. When he gets closer I see he’s in his mid-twenties. Suddenly I feel like a cougar. Down girl. “Asa, is it?”

  “Yes.” He strides toward me in a way that makes me think military. Maybe it’s his straight posture. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s sporting a shaved head and wearing dog tags. Stopping next to a wall, he flips on a switch for an overhead light and I get the full effect of the inn’s interior—and him. Both are impressive. “So you’re going to rid us of our ghost?”

  My eyes are drawn to the others in the room. Not people, but spirits. Three that I can see. “Ghosts.”

  “Excuse me?” he says, as if not understanding.

  I take a deep breath. “Do you know you’ve got a lot of dead people walking around here?”

  Chapter Two

  Asa

  She couldn’t have said we have a lot of dead people walking around, right? I glance around the room and then back to the curvy blond. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  Lisa smiles at me like I’m a simpleton. “That’s why I was sent.” She turns away. “Gorgeous but dumb, just my luck.”

  Even though she mumbles the last part I hear her perfectly. A spark of interest lights inside me. This one’s a firecracker all right. She might be a little older than me, but there’s something about her that’s different from anyone I’ve met in a long while.

  Not like you get out much to socialize up here in the wilds of Alaska.

  Yeah, there is that.

  She speaks slowly, with a hint of humor in her voice. “You. Have lots. Of dead people.” She motions in big circles with her arms. “Walking around.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I say, stifling the urge to snap a comeback that I am indeed more than just a big dumb guy. “You’re saying we have ghosts on the premises?”

  She shakes her head and a tiny snort escapes.

  My gaze travels over the full-figured woman, wondering if she laughs in bed, too. I wouldn’t mind a little laughter in my life these days. I haven’t been with anyone since Joanna last year, and this woman appears ripe and ready. Like she knows what she wants.

  Get your mind out of the gutter. You’ve got a job to do.

  Damn conscience. Shut up.

  Lisa catches me staring. Her cheeks flame red as she glances away and motions jerkily with her chin across the room. Jon and I look in the direction she’s indicating.

  Nothing.

  “The tiny Asian lady leaning against the front desk? She’s got long black hair and looks as fragile as a porcelain doll.” Lisa steps deeper into the mammoth lounge area in the center of the hotel. “There’s a creepy guy with a short white goatee staring at us from near the fireplace.” She gestures with one hand.

  Whirling to her left, like she hears something, Lisa faces the hallway of the north wing. “And you’ve got a serene-looking Indian guy heading toward us from the hall.”

  No freakin’ way.

  My mouth drops open and I glance at the werewolf across from me. Yup. Jon’s jaw is gaping like a caught fish, too.

  Jon recovers first. “Am I smoking crack, or is she describing Emiko, Ivan, and Vikram?”

  Despite the disbelief coursing through me, I can’t think of any other logical answer. Vivian, one of the owners, wouldn’t be playing some long-distance joke on us, would she? Like using her vamp mental skills to project dead people’s images that only this human could see? Nah. Wouldn’t make sense. If she was going to mess with me or Jon, she’d want a ring-side seat while the prank unfolded.

  Viv did say a reaper was coming, but I didn’t have a chance to think about what the hell that really meant.

  “So… you’re able to see three dead people who were killed here this past year?”

  Lisa slowly turns and faces me, her complexion paling. “Did you…” With an unsteady step she walks to the sofa and lowers herself to a deep cushion. She audibly swallows and stares at the floor. “Kill them?”

  “No… no.” I rush to reassure her, moving to a chair across from her. She jumps slightly in her seat. I raise my empty hands in a slow-down motion. “Calm yourself. I’m not going to hurt you. I didn’t kill any of them.” Remembering my time with Emiko in the bowling alley I add, “And one of them seriously kicked my ass.”

  Jon walks to the fireplace, taking a deep sniff of air. “Nothing here, man.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “Are you sure she’s telling the truth?”

  Lisa glares at him and the fire I saw earlier returns. “Now why the hell would I lie, jackass? What do I have to gain?” She shakes her head, disbelief and annoyance clear on her face. “Typical guy. You can’t see it or understand it, so it must be a lie.” She settles back against the couch. “Reminds me of my partner, Nate.”

  Jon’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead and he opens his mouth to retaliate. I shake my head once. It’s not worth it. It’s unclear how much she knows about us or how much she’s likely to believe. But Vivian said she was here to do a job and we needed to support her. That’s what I damn well will do.

  I reach for my travel mug filled with bloodcoffee, using the cup as a prop for casual intro to conversation. “So… how long have you seen dead people?”

  Lisa barks out a laugh. “Cute. Haven’t heard that line outside of a movie.”

  “Okay,” Jon announces. “I’m out of here. It’s your turn to handle the weirdness. Call me if you need me.” The temperamental werewolf strides across the lobby and disappears into the dining area. He’s temporarily moved into Rafe and Vivian’s apartment while they’re tying up loose ends in Argentina.

  It’s been a long summer so far and I can’t wait for the vampire master and her husband to come home. Their arrival will signify a return to normalcy as well as the beginning of fall at our remote resort. Personally, avoiding the sun and traveling through the tunnels gets old.

  “All kidding aside,” I say to Lisa. “I’m serious. I never knew there were reapers in the world.”

  “Isn’t there an old saying about what man doesn’t know about his world could fill the largest library ten times over?”

  I shrug. “No idea. Sounds about right, though. Are you going to answer me about how long you’ve seen ghosts? I am truly curious.”

  Lisa glances into my eyes, uncertainty showing in the dazzling blue depths. “Normally I can’t discuss that.” She hesitates, but apparently sees something in me that encourages her to go on. “I guess I was born with the trait. Another reaper died, my husband as a matter of fact, and I kind of fell into the job. It certainly wasn’t my choice. Then I found out I’d be reaping stupid people. So really not my choice.”

  I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Fascinating. And what does ‘reaping’ entail?”r />
  “Well, it depends on the soul. People who die in violent ways are more resistant than happy souls. Sometimes I have to chase them down. Sometimes they go to the afterlife willingly.”

  “So there is an afterlife? I’ve always wondered.”

  “Er… um… yeah. There is. But I really don’t know much about it. I make a point of not getting too close to my porter. He has a tendency to take anybody who gets within reach on a joyride to Hell.” She nervously looks around the lobby. “Why is it so dark in here? And you didn’t cover who actually did the killing of those ghosts I spotted.”

  I stand and motion to the front desk. “Why don’t we get you checked into a room? Neither of those questions has a quick answer.”

  Lisa follows me and listens quietly to Tommy’s directions on where her room is and on some of the inn’s facilities. Thankfully he catches himself and doesn’t mention the protocols on blood donors and the sex-toy basket our paying guests normally receive.

  Jon had carried in Lisa’s bag, so once she’s handed her room key card I grab the luggage and lead the way upstairs.

  “Wow,” Lisa says, eyeing the floor to ceiling book cases encircling the landings that overlook the lobby. “Someone sure likes to read.”

  “The owners collect first edition books. Sure fills up the time during the long Alaskan winter.”

  A tense laugh escapes her. “I prefer indoor target shooting with a .22 pistol. Especially under the influence of alcohol—it’s good for a laugh.”

  Her words sink in and I glance over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  We arrive at the top and she shrugs. “Only if you’re stupid.”

  I escort her to the largest suite on the second floor, room three. The inn is dead this week—no pun intended. Our busy time is winter and after the botched first attempt of a werewolf hunt earlier this summer we’ve reverted to the normal off-season skeleton staff of thirty. Less people around should make it easy for Lisa to do her ghost-hunting task.