Ghosts of Averoigne

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Ghosts of Averoigne Page 14

by Krista Wolf


  “Ever heard of a land line?” Xiomara snapped. “Check the front desk, or Prescott’s office. It’s what we used back in the stone age, before all your fancy cellular technology took a big shit over everything.”

  Kara and Jeremy both knew enough to stop talking. Logan however pushed the envelope.

  “How did that work anyway?” he grinned. “Weren’t the dinosaurs always knocking down the telephone poles?”

  Xiomara’s face went utterly blank for several seconds. Either she was on the verge of breaking out laughing, or Logan was about to get the mother of all ass-chewings. It honestly could’ve gone either way.

  For some strange reason she ignored him completely.

  “LoPresti,” Xiomara finally said. “If this clown’s all finished with his act, I’ll tell you what we know.”

  “Please,” she said, shooting Logan a staying glance.

  “Alright. Here we go.”

  On screen Xiomara leaned in even closer, like she was talking in confidence. It distorted her features to cartoon levels. Her forehead looked enormous.

  “The book is gibberish, for the most part. We’re not sure if it was written by a charlatan or a genius. Either way, it seems the ritual was finished, at least for the most part, when Rudolph Northrop got to the marked page. So if I were you, I’d leave that part alone.”

  Kara nodded, and Xiomara went on.

  “The sigil scratched into the candle is a glyph. It’s meant for protection. This seems to bolster your theory that Northrop was doing right by the hotel. Either that, or he was just trying to protect his own sorry ass from whatever holy hell he was unleashing on the Averoigne.” The old woman stopped for a moment to let out a long breath. “My gut feeling is it’s the former.”

  She waited until Xiomara was fully finished with her report, then Kara launched into everything they’d learned about the Averoigne. Jeremy and Logan piped in, talking about the history of the hotel, Victor Walcott, and all the strange happenings they’d experienced so far. They also mentioned recovering every artifact necessary to recreate the ceremony, other than the scrying crystal.

  “If you do this,” Xiomara warned, “you must be meticulous. Hell, let Manning do the setup on that. He’s anal as fuck. He’ll get it right.”

  “Thanks,” Jeremy said wryly.

  “Hey don’t get smarmy with me,” Xiomara snapped, wagging a finger. “It’s not my fault you’ve always been wound up tighter than a crab’s ass. And shit, these two idiots have gotten more done in three days than you accomplished in three weeks there! So if I were you, I’d stop flapping my gums.”

  Kara tapped her fingers and looked away. She was trying to avoid eye contact with Jeremy, as well as escape the Head of Order’s extended wrath. Sometimes Xiomara could go off like a hand grenade. Anyone in the immediate vicinity would get injured by her shrapnel.

  “So what’s your backup plan?” the old woman was suddenly asking.

  Logan blinked. “Backup plan?”

  “Yeah, in case this whole sorry thing goes to shit.”

  The three of them looked to each other helplessly. After a moment, they shrugged.

  “Jesus Christ,” Xiomara swore. “So your backup plan is to wait another whole fucking year? Until the next winter solstice?”

  Their shoulders slumped. Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but Kara kicked him off camera.

  “Right then,” said Xiomara. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  “We won’t,” Kara promised quickly.

  Xiomara didn’t look so sure. Her eyes narrowed until they were two tiny slits in the wrinkled landscape of her face.

  “Okay.” Her expression softened, and in only a slightly gentler tone she added: “Just be careful.”

  The old woman went to kill the connection, missed the ‘END’ button, and walked off grumbling and rubbing her backside. She began cursing loudly about something — yelling ferociously at someone off-screen — when Kara reached down and ended the call on their end.

  The three of them looked back at each other wearily, like shell-shocked veterans sharing a beer after a mortar attack.

  “Isn’t she the best?” smirked Logan.

  Thirty-Seven

  Their final day at the Averoigne passed quickly.

  They spent most of it getting ready, checking and double-checking their gear, and going over last minute details. Then they cleaned up, rested a bit, and met back downstairs for a late dinner.

  For once there was no tension between them. Conversation was light, even pleasant, and the three of them found themselves laughing together. They were near the end, Kara realized. It was almost over, and the stress of being cooped up in the old hotel was finally draining away.

  Even so, there was still plenty to be done.

  It took two trips to get all of their stuff up to room 334. This included three tripods, two full-spectrum cameras, battery backups and the infrared. The latter was extremely hi-tech, military grade night-vision. Because while the Hallowed Order took great care in choosing when and how to take footage of an event? They quite literally spared no expense.

  The room had been cleaned even better than Logan indicated. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Still without electricity, a dozen large candles had been arranged at intervals throughout the room. They cast a warm glow over everything, even the fully-made, four-poster bed.

  “Red satin sheets?” Kara smirked.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re real silk,” said Logan. “But yeah, Radcliffe says they’re original to the room. They were laundered along with everything else.”

  They went through the motions of setting up, each of them moving with almost mechanical ease. In the end the cameras covered the entire room. Every corner was within range, but centrally they were focused on the mirror.

  Whatever happens tonight, we’re getting it, thought Kara. The idea of finally pleasing Xiomara for once actually excited her. And whatever happens should be good.

  When it was all done they sat quietly, listening in the silence. Logan and Kara rested on the edge of the bed. Jeremy leaned back into a carved ironwood chair.

  For a long time, they heard nothing. Just the normal protest of a century-old building, settling onto its ancient foundation. There were no voices. No strange noises or sounds. It was as if the hotel knew what they wanted, and was now mocking them. Screwing with their heads.

  “I don’t see anything in the mirror,” said Kara.

  “It doesn’t happen right away,” Logan replied. “Last night it took a while.”

  “How long’s a while?”

  He shrugged. “I started first seeing the light around midnight. Didn’t really get bright until one-ish.”

  Kara looked at the time. She groaned “Another hour and a half?”

  She sighed and stretched out on the bed, spreading her hair out beneath her. Then she closed her eyes. She thought about the mirror, the photograph. The array of ancient objects spread out across Rudolph Northrop’s table — the exact artifacts they’d spread out on room 334’s dresser, right here, right now.

  Something’s not right.

  Kara couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But there was definitely—

  “Hey,” Logan voice said suddenly. “Weren’t you supposed to charge the backup batteries?”

  “I did,” said Jeremy.

  “Well then you did a shit job,” Logan scoffed. “Here, look at the charge meters.”

  She heard Jeremy shuffle over. He bent to touch a few things, make a few adjustments. Kara opened one eye.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Jeremy said. He sounded indignant. He tapped one of the backups with his thumb.

  “I do,” said Logan simply. “You fucked up.”

  Oh boy.

  Jeremy stood up, rising to his full height. He stepped into Logan, who swelled up against him immediately.

  Kara opened her other eye.

  “You had one job,” said Logan. “Plug the backups in. That’s all you
had to do. Everything else—”

  “I DID plug them in!” Jeremy yelled. “And I checked them, too. They were fully charged when we carried them up here. The needles were buried, left-side green.”

  “Yeah,” laughed Logan. “And they both happened to drain completely in what… an hour? Come on…”

  They were close now, only inches apart. She’d obviously have to do something. Kara ran through different scenarios in her head, trying to find one that assuaged them both without taking either side. She couldn’t find one, so she fell back on good old anger.

  “Hey!” she yelled, standing up. “Assholes!”

  They both whirled, somewhat astonished. She took the opportunity to step between them.

  “The whole time we’ve been here, you’ve done nothing but bicker. It’s sickening. Like babysitting two little kids!”

  They both started to say something. She shushed them with two stern looks.

  “I’m done with it,” Kara declared, “so both of you get over it already. I’ve had enough of this never-ending dick-measuring contest!”

  They looked at her for a moment, then each other. Logan’s mouth curled into a disdainful smirk. “I’d win that contest,” he chuckled.

  “Wanna bet?” Jeremy snapped back.

  Holy shit, Kara thought. They’re even fighting about this!

  “Yeah, I’ll bet,” Logan went on. He hooked a hand on his belt. “What are the stakes?”

  Logan’s eyes were blue fire. Jeremy’s were a smoldering brown. Kara was locked between them, the only sanity left in a mad world. She couldn’t believe it was all boiling down to something this stupid.

  “Let’s see,” said Jeremy. “Stakes… How about—”

  Kara growled in frustration. She put one hand on each of their chests. “Stop! You’ve both got big dicks, alright?”

  Instantly they stopped staring at each other and looked down at her. The room fell completely, utter silent.

  “I’ve been with the both of you,” Kara went on. “I’ve seen you both, and you’re both well-hung, okay? So quit playing around!”

  It was much louder than she meant it to be. Kara actually flushed red for a moment. She glared at Logan, then Jeremy, then back at Logan again.

  “Can we just leave it at that?”

  They stood there, frozen, neither one of them sure what came next But her words had the desired effect. At least they weren’t fighting anymore. But now…

  It was Logan who moved first. He took her hand — the one on his chest — and slid down across his body. Kara gasped when he settled it over his cock.

  “You sure?” he grinned.

  Kara’s heart was in her throat. She didn’t know what to do… but she still hadn’t moved her hand away.

  Not to be outdone, Jeremy took her other hand. This time he stepped in close, slipping her palm down the front of his jeans. Kara could feel the top of his manhood. It was warm. Already thick…

  Jeremy’s gaze went to Logan. He stared back, but his expression was entirely different now. Gone was the anger, the blame, even the challenge itself. In its place Kara could see a familiar mischievousness. A recklessness and impulsiveness that had always made her heart race.

  “You know,” said Logan, “we might be owed a more thorough answer.”

  He slipped an arm around her waist. Kara gulped.

  “For once I agree with him,” added Jeremy. He placed his hand over hers, trapping it. His cock began shifting. Swelling beneath her fingers. “You expect us to just take your word for it?”

  Kara looked at them again. They hadn’t said a word to each other, and yet, somehow they had. She felt a warmth down in her belly… and even lower. Her stomach did a somersault.

  Logan undid his belt buckle. He unbuttoned and unzipped his fly. And still Kara did nothing. Nothing but keep her hand firmly where it was.

  “You know,” said Logan slyly, “you’ve been bossing us around here these last few days.” He pulled her in closer. Put his mouth right up against her ear. “Maybe it’s time we took charge for a while.”

  His breath was hot. His voice softer, more sensual. And then suddenly, on the other side of her, Kara’s hand began to move. It began stroking Jeremy’s cock, up and down, as if it had a will of its own.

  This can’t be happening.

  Kara whirled, looking up at Jeremy. He bent down and kissed her. She found that she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but kiss him back. And then suddenly another pair of lips were on her neck — Logan, on the opposite side — and her entire body went limp all at once.

  “I— I don’t know… what you…”

  Jeremy’s tongue dueled hers in slow, sensual circles. It made Kara completely uninterested in finishing her sentence. At the same time, Logan’s churning mouth traced its way along her neck, sending shivers down the entire right side of Kara’s body.

  The rest of it happened in slow motion. She found herself kissing the both of them, taking turns back and forth as two entirely different sets of hands roamed her body. A warm palm slid over her ass. Another one cupped her, just beneath one breast…

  Kara gulped again, harder this time. “Y— You guys are crazy...”

  They responded by pressing in closer on either side of her. Kara could smell them now. Inhale the musk of of their skin, the scent of their clothes. She could feel the heat of their bodies, spooning up against her.

  “Is… is this really going to happen?” she murmured.

  Four arms lifted her up. They deposited her on the bed, spreading her out across its silken surface. Logan slid up next to her on one side. Jeremy along the other. Kara’s back arched reflexively as she felt a hand go between her legs.

  “Can you think of a better way to kill the next hour?” Logan smiled.

  Thirty-Eight

  The whole thing happened as in a dream. It unfolded slowly, sensually, in the warm, quiet darkness.

  Only for Kara was all too breathtakingly real.

  She lay sandwiched between the two strong men as they took turns kissing and undressing her. She felt Jeremy’s hands, moving over the flat of her stomach. Logan’s mouth, his lips pressed hotly against her own. She kissed and writhed, twisting her body to accommodate them as, together, they rolled her already-soaked panties down her smooth thighs.

  No voices echoed in her head this time. Nothing telling her not to enjoy it. Kara knew what they were about to do was absolutely insane, and that where they were doing it even more so.

  She found that she simply didn’t care.

  The candles cast a warm glow over the pitch-black room. They illuminated her lovers’ bodies in light and shadow; big and broad and well-defined, both of them so strong and handsome it made her instantly wet.

  Logan was still kissing her. His mouth was busy around her neck, licking, sucking, kissing hard and then falling away. He whispered urgently into her ear. Dirty things. Filthy things that he wanted to do to her, some of which he’d already done. He told her how much he wanted to fuck her. How he wanted to feel himself buried deep, thrusting inside her.

  On her other side, Jeremy was touching her everywhere. His hands slid up along her hips, coming up beneath her breasts and squeezing them together. Kara gasped as he replaced his hands with his mouth, tonguing her nipples, licking wet circles around them until they were achingly hard.

  A hand slid between her legs. She didn’t even know who it belonged to, nor did she care. Kara spread herself wide, groaning as a palm rubbed hard on her clit. She was lost now. Completely gone over.

  “Ohhhh…”

  She could hear her own wetness. Feel her arousal as it saturated her lover’s hand. Kara bucked upward, churning against it. Begging to be touched more. To be penetrated…

  She gasped as a long middle finger slipped into her pussy.

  Oh holy fuck…

  The silken sheets felt cool beneath her skin, sliding over the surface of her naked body. Every time she moved it was like being on water, like floating on a river
… into two sets of big, strong arms.

  “Do you want this?”

  Logan’s face was only inches from her own. His eyes shared her lust. He sought her complete surrender and Kara gave it. She nodded, biting her lip. He kissed her…

  … just as Jeremy slid down and buried his face between her legs.

  “Oh yes…” she whimpered. “Oh God yes.”

  The feasted on her. Took turns devouring her, inside and out. Jeremy went down on her for a long time, coming up only when his face was covered in her cream. Kara pulled him up and kissed him, tasting herself, even as Logan went down to finish her off. He brought her to the brink of orgasm with his tongue and fingers. Eyes rolling back into her head, Kara allowed him to drive her over the edge as well.

  As men they’d been combative with each other, even romantic rivals. But right here, right now, they were a team. They shared the same common interest of pleasuring her, perhaps even of proving themselves worthy in front of each other, in spite of each other.

  And of course, they shared another common interest: the baser, more primal goal of using Kara’s body to get themselves off.

  She didn’t care. In fact, she wanted it that way. Every last inhibition was gone, dissolved away in the wake of an unspeakable, rising lust. She would do whatever they wanted. Please them in any way possible. Her body quivered around them, and then Kara was pulling them closer, eager to make good on the unspoken promise.

  She turned to one side and felt the head of Jeremy’s cock pressed up against her mouth. Kara opened for it, letting it slip past her lips, allowing it to fill her throat. She gripped the base, sucking him hard. Blowing him even as Logan’s tongue fluttered over her clit, his fingers gliding in and out against the thrusting and churning of her hips.

  “Fuck me.”

  The words slipped out. Her body was more than ready for them.

  “Please fuck me…”

  Somehow Logan heard her cries. He sat up then shifted forward, until he was kneeling between her legs.

  Oh God.

  She spread her legs for him, and Kara could see herself glistening down there. She was soaking wet. More turned on than she’d ever been in her life.

 

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