“Polar explorer? Seal skins?”
Nikolas narrowed his eyes then swore again and let the lighter go off, tossing it from hand to hand as the heat apparently burnt him. “We saw the same thing. That’s…interesting. And you heard me.”
“Mine disappeared. Poof. Blinked out.”
“Poof?”
“Focus.”
“I wonder. Come…”
Nikolas began to pull Ben toward the door. Ben resisted. Forcibly. “Where are you going?” He couldn’t see Nikolas’s face, but he could sense the incredulity that would be on it.
“Back to the basement!”
“You have got to be joking. Let’s wait till the lights come on at least.”
Nikolas stopped. “Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen, are you scared of the dark?”
Ben got up close and personal. “It was real, Nik. I saw it, heard it, felt it.”
“Exactly. It was as real as you and me. Come.”
Reluctantly, Ben followed Nikolas out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The other guests were beginning to assemble in the foyer, most carrying makeshift illumination—flashlights, lighters, candles. The normalcy of their questions and laughter made Ben slightly ashamed and he poked Nikolas hard in the ribs, just because he could and because it made Nikolas snort with wry amusement. They avoided getting caught up in the excited speculation and made their way to the drying room.
It was noticeably much colder than any drying room had a right to be. Ben crowed very quietly, “See? Ghosts draw energy from places to manifest. Cold spots.”
“I have had more rational conversations with Radulf.”
Ben then sensed a moment’s hesitation at the top of the very dark staircase into the basement from the ex-Russian Special Forces operative beside him, but he was gracious enough not to mention it, other than to give Nikolas a light bitch-slap and push in front of him to take the lead. It occurred to Ben, as they descended into that pit of inky black, that Nikolas was probably the scariest thing you would ever wish to meet in the dark. It was good to be on his side. He was beginning to actually enjoy this ghost hunt now that Nikolas was on board with it.
His pleasure evaporated fairly quickly when they rounded the corner toward the furnace. The sealskin figure was waiting for them. Ben cried out and tried to turn. Nikolas was too close behind him and they collided, the figure then falling onto them, taking them down to the freezing cement floor. Ben got a few good punches in, but it tried to suffocate him, lying over his face…inert. He sat up.
“Fucking hell!”
They shoved the empty suit away angrily and rose to their feet at the same time.
Ben gave it a kick for good measure as Nikolas commented in amusement, “Strange ghost who hangs his suit to dry. Look.” He strode off toward something further back in the darkness.
Ben followed Nik toward the rear of the furnace.
In the feeble light from Nikolas’s lighter, they saw a set of metal stairs ascending to a hatch. “Poof.”
“Huh?”
“You were out on one side of the hotel. You saw this figure suddenly disappear and then heard me speak. I was down here. I felt it get suddenly cold and then I saw the same figure you did, dripping. I think he descended through this hatch into the basement. Obviously, all this occurred to me at the time, so I probably startled him more than he did me.”
“Are you forgetting that it was in our bed this morning?”
“Perhaps there is a rational explanation for that as well.”
“Oh, this’ll be good.”
Nikolas began to make his way back toward the furnace, cursing once more as the lighter burnt his fingers and he snapped it off. It was only then that they became aware that the furnace was out. No soft glow. No roar. “Well your drawing energy to manifest theory was also a good explanation for the cold, Ben. Just as likely as running out of fuel. I saw candles on one of these shelves when I was down here earlier.”
Nikolas’s voice drifted eerily from the obscurity, his strangled English sounding even more foreign without the benefit of seeing him speak. Ben began to pat along the shelves, examining the shape and possible contents of the packets he found. “Why did you come down in the basement anyway?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Down here?”
“I assumed you would be checking on the food supplies.”
“Ah.” Ben didn’t add that he’d now worked out Nikolas had been auditing the alcohol supplies as well. It was too obvious to point out. It was starting to get noticeably colder and an unfortunate thought suddenly struck Ben. “You don’t think they’ve actually run out of fuel, do you?”
“I assume that is why the furnace is out, yes.”
“What? I thought it was…I don’t know…on a timer or something! This is bad! It’s freezing in here already!”
“Dear God. We are three hours from a large town with an international airport!”
“Uh-huh. And how is a large town and—found some.” Ben grabbed a handful of candles from a box and made his way to the tiny flame of Nikolas’s lighter.
They stuck half a dozen of the sturdy lights around on the shelves and they each took one in their hands. Held just below their chins, the wavering amber illumination shadowed each bone in their faces, hollowing out cheeks, widening eyes. At the same time, they smiled and came together for a kiss.
Careful to hold the flames well away, Ben enjoyed the illicit pleasure of kissing another man in the dark. Eventually, he pulled away, and finished his thought. “How is only being three hours from anywhere going to help us if we’ve no communication and no transport?”
“Huh?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, we might as well be in the taiga again, millions of miles from civilization, if we can’t reach it or contact it.”
“Thousands. Look. There is your ghost in the bed.”
Ben started but covered by slapping Nikolas’s arm, then peered dutifully at what Nikolas was holding his candle up to. It was the open end of the heating vent, a large shaft that carried the hot air from the furnace to every bedroom.
Nikolas tested it with the back of his hand and then commanded, “Hold this.” He handed Ben his candle and with a dexterity hidden by habitual indolence, Nikolas hoisted himself up into the metal tunnel.
His feet disappeared before Ben could protest. He raised the candle into the end of the tunnel and could see Nikolas worming his way up, and then he vanished into a right-angled shaft to one side.
Ben’s first thought was that he’d never again feel sympathy for another one of Nikolas’s winces or claims of being still slightly injured, comments made whenever anything the least bit domestic had to be done.
His second was that it was suddenly very quiet in the basement.
§§§
Ben made it back to the bedroom at the same time as Nikolas, only he sprinted up the stairs—ignoring the attempts by the loudest American to engage him in a fascinating conversation about the lights going off, that it was getting noticeably colder, and how much were they fucking paying for this—whereas Nikolas was only then arriving via the heating vents. When Ben knelt down in the tiny space between the wall and the bed, he could see Nikolas behind the grill.
“Ow.” Ben put the candle onto the carpet and patted around where he crouched, holding up a screw. At the same time, Nikolas shoved at the grill from the inside and it popped off the wall. He tumbled out, knocking the candle over, which promptly went out.
With a few curses and re-snapping of Nik’s lighter, they ended up sitting on the floor together with the tiny object in the palm of Ben’s hand. It seemed almost more incredible than having a ghost in his bed.
“Someone came through the grill and got into bed with me?”
Nikolas shrugged. “I think it more likely they stood to one side of the bed, realised it wasn’t who they thought it was, and…” He trailed off at the look Ben gave him and added with a smirk, “All right. They took the opportunity afforded them to lie
in a bed with you! Who wouldn’t?”
Ben narrowed his eyes at the sarcasm. Put like that, it did seem ridiculous.
Perhaps he had heard someone merely standing alongside…Merely standing alongside! He shuddered. A real person doing that was almost worse than a ghost in bed with him.
Then he remembered how he’d been lying, his body entirely naked and stretched out, his cock risen and heavy and…the fingers. He hadn’t told Nikolas this bit, for a variety of reasons.
“What the fuck, Nik? What’s going on? They must have released the grill earlier. It was unscrewed from this side. In preparation? Jesus, it’s getting cold.” Nikolas nodded, and they rose and went to their suitcases to rummage for some sweaters. “How could he have possibly got back inside that…?” Ben turned as he tugged down the extra layer, considering the scenario once more. “I got twisted up in the sheet. It didn’t seem like a long time but—”
A knock sounded on the door and they stilled, shielding their candle’s flame. The door opened slowly and Claire peered anxiously at them from the light of a lantern. “We are all gathering in the lobby. The fire is lit there. Sorry.”
Ben frowned at her. “What’s going on? You can’t seriously be that low in supplies of fuel.”
Claire was rummaging for something in her pocket and seemed unwilling to catch his eye. “Nils will be back soon. Please, come to the lobby.” She apparently found what she was searching for and handed Nikolas a small torch. “I have put out some drinks.”
As they trailed after her, Nikolas leant close to Ben and asked softly in Danish, “Why did she look at me when she said that?”
Ben replied in the same manner. “I’ll take a random guess and say that it might be the amount of vodka you’ve consumed since you’ve gone polar?”
Nikolas curled his lip and merely said, “Your Danish is woeful.”
Ben ignored him. He was busy counting heads. It was almost automatic, a soldier thing—who was present and accounted for, who was missing.
It was fairly easy to see that the English couple were absent. He flicked a look behind Nikolas, expecting them to be following from the bedrooms, but he and Nikolas appeared to be the last of the guests to be rounded up.
It was almost too…Ben stopped reaching for the glass of hot wine on the table. He considered the assembled figures in the dark, faces illuminated only by the fire and strategically placed candles. He bit his lip. He tried to suppress the almost irresistible laughter that bubbled up from inside, but it was impossible, and a snort emerged which he had to cover with a cough and then by moving away toward the entrance doors, where the sound of the wind muffled any odd noises he was making. Ben wasn’t known for riotous amusement. Like Nikolas, he usually only laughed gleefully when they were alone together, usually horizontal and usually at Nikolas, whom he still found, after all these years together, extremely funny. But this was too much.
Ben had just realised…
“What are you doing? Are you choking on something?”
Ben shook his head to Nikolas’s enquiry. Tears were running down his cheeks now. He tried to speak and eventually had to pluck Nikolas’s sweater sleeve and draw him even further away into the dark recesses of the huge lobby.
“I think…Squeezy…he said…murder…Norway and…they’ve done one…I think—”
“Ben!”
“I think Squeezy’s organised a murder-mystery holiday for us! He said we should go on one. He said we had a crap relationship because we hadn’t. And when I offered him this holiday, like you said I should, he said no really quickly. Too quickly for something free. And you remember? He went to Norway with Tim and we don’t know why? He’s set us up. This is a murder-mystery experience!”
Nikolas frowned and glanced back at the people milling in the lobby. “What? You think they are all…actors? Again?” He clearly didn’t seem to find this a very credible or attractive suggestion. They’d not had very good luck with actors. Or actors with them, come to that.
Ben shook his head. “No, no, not at all, they’re all like us, here to participate…only we didn’t know.”
Nikolas curled his lip again. It seemed to be his new habit. It was an improvement on the shrugging and grunting. Slightly. “Seriously? You think that moronic creature set all this up? The one who tried to inflate his bicycle tyres with helium to see if it would float?”
“He was going to a party as E.T. Tim doesn’t seem to find him dumb. And Tim’s the cleverest person we know. He’s way cleverer than you.”
Nikolas narrowed his eyes. Ben waited for the curled lip, but it didn’t come. “Who’s the billionaire? Who doesn’t even own his own house?”
“Seriously? You think wealth is proof of intelligence?”
“Ack, if you knew what obtuse meant I’d accuse you of being it. Trust me, the dimwit has not engineered this…what did you call it?”
“Murder-mystery weekend.”
“There you go. We’re not on a weekend! We’re here for the whole week! Do they have murder-mystery weeks? I think not.”
“Huh. I never thought to ask. I guess it would stretch credulity for too long. I mean, you’d kinda guess who’d done it too soon?”
Nikolas nodded as if he was taking this argument very seriously then he smirked, just a tiny quirk of the corner of his mouth. “I have remembered why I was looking for you earlier. I like you in that sweater.”
Ben hung his head. “You’re thinking of sex again.”
Nikolas moved closer. “I searched high and low. Up and down.” As it was dark and they were some way from the other guests, his hand was illustrating the extent of his travels. “I even went all the way…to the basement.”
Ben smirked and removed Nik’s roving appendage. “Yeah. Looking for vodka to secure and stash away before it ran out.”
“No. As usual, you are quite wrong, min skat.”
Ben’s eyes flicked down. “That’s not allowed on a murder—”
“As amusing as your suggestion is, this is not—”
“Murder!” Both doors blew open on a figure shouting and staggering into the lobby. All the candles went out in the vast gust of wind which accompanied the piercing cries, “Murder! She’s been murdered!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nikolas seemed to cheer up immensely when Richard Cooper’s cry of murder was taken up by the assembled guests. He was clearly intrigued, his interest piqued perhaps by the juxtaposition of darkness, flickering light from the fire, and the general panic and fear that spread from person to person as easily and as quickly as the tiny flames from relit candles. Ben sighed deeply. “Nik, this isn’t part of a script.”
Nikolas’s jaw dropped a little. “You this minute said it was a—”
“Yes, but it isn’t now! Obviously!”
“What do you mean? He’s screaming about murder! I admit it, you were right!”
“No! He actually means it! An actual murder!”
They made their way back to the group surrounding the unfortunate biologist. He was being divested of layers of outer clothing, making it easier for him to breathe. When he was able to speak, he moaned, “Pen’s…in the big shed.”
Nikolas tugged Ben to one side and whispered in their private language, “Come—”
Ben resisted the pull to be removed further from the room and hissed back, “Stop it! This…come thing. It’s so annoying.”
Nikolas raised his brows in what appeared to be genuine surprise and Ben added, slightly contritely, “Well it is. At least say come on. Anyway, come where?”
“We have to see the body. Before everyone tramples all over the…clues.”
“Clues? Someone’s been murdered, Nikolas. I’ve just told you; this isn’t a game!”
“You just finished trying to convince me that it is! A murder game!”
“Well, yes, that was when there wasn’t a…” He didn’t want to say it but was forced to conclude sulkily, “Real murder.” Then he added hastily, “This is real and we need to take it
seriously.”
“Yes! That’s what I’m saying! We need to see the body! How much more seriously can I take it? Come—on.”
Nikolas forced Ben toward the drying room with a surreptitious look around at the other guests. Ben glanced around as well. No one was giving them the slightest bit of attention, but were instead gathered around the Englishman, attempting to make some sense out of his continued hysterical claims that she was dead. In the shed.
Hustled into the drying room and thrust a jacket, Ben was dressing in the warm gear before he had time to complain, but when he was then manhandled toward the basement steps, he suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, my, God! You’re bored again! No internet and you’ve gone completely stir-crazy. It’s not me, it’s you!”
Nikolas only zipped Ben up and shoved him harder. “Sometimes your total lack of self-awareness is almost endearing.”
Ben almost fell down the remaining few steps and had to grab at the banister in the dark, rounding on Nikolas with a hissed, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You persist in this delusion that I’m some sort of amusing, hyperactive child getting into mischief all the time because I’m easily bored. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have never been bored in my entire life. I have a vast repertoire of amusement inside my head. You on the other hand cannot sit still for one single minute. Your attention span on anything except sex and food is non-existent. Now, up to the hatch. Quick.”
Ben allowed himself to be tugged up the second set of stairs and then dragged out onto the ice.
It was eerily quiet and still. Cold, bitterly so, but utterly calm. The wind, vicious and unremitting as it had been only a few moments ago when the Englishman had stumbled through the door, had…died. As with the vagaries of the fog earlier, this capriciousness in weather was a sobering thought.
Nikolas only said, “Excellent,” and switched on the torch Claire had given him, then tapped it to his palm to apparently revive dying batteries. He set off confidently toward the back of the hotel.
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