Ian looked away, but I had seen the look on his face.
Jamie turned and pushed Ian down the hallway.
Matilda had finished passing out the keys and was standing with the clipboard at the check-in table. I noticed a man behind the counter. He had the same odd way about him as the others and had long, black hair, light eyes, and pale skin.
I went up to them. Trying to play nice, I smiled at Matilda. “I’d like a copy of that list,” I said, looking down at her clipboard.
She looked surprised. “Whatever for?”
As I looked at her, I thought about how easily we fall for anyone who seems to be in authority. Our natural paranoia, eroded by near bombardment of our private lives, has stripped us of the instinct to shelter ourselves from strangers. Everyone I loved had put their name on that list, had allowed these people to tell them exactly where they would be. I did not like it one bit. I gave Matilda a hard look.
In that moment, I saw a dark shadow pass over her face, the mask falling away. She covered it quickly. “Well, as you know, we have no Xerox,” she said with a smile. “Perhaps Ambrosio will write the list down for you?” she said, looking to the man.
He looked me over from head to foot. “You may stop by for it tomorrow.”
I knew there would never be a list if I depended on them. “Don’t trouble yourself,” I said, taking the clipboard from her hand. “I got it.”
She looked astonished and gazed at the man she’d called Ambrosio.
I grabbed a sheet of paper off the counter and jotted down the room numbers of the Hamletville citizens.
“We didn’t get your name,” Ambrosio told me, coming around from behind the counter to stand in front of me.
I smiled, handed Matilda her clipboard, and set the pen down. “No, you didn’t,” I said and walked away.
As I left, I heard them murmuring between one another.
I was there, but I didn’t have to like it.
Chapter 24
It turned out that room 415 was a bridal suite; there was a plaque on the door. I set down the bags and looked the space over. It was beautiful. Someone had lit a number of candles, filling the space with a soft, romantic glow. A large poster bed was draped with gauzy white cloth. The bed was covered in a light purple satin coverlet. The ornate Victorian furniture was romantic. A settee piled with pillows looked out at the lake. The moonlight was reflecting on the pitching waves.
For a moment, I pretended. I pretended the world had not fallen apart. I pretended that the undead were not walking around. I pretended that earth spirits were not talking to me. I pretended I’d come home from D.C. on vacation and had fallen in love with Jamie. I pretended we had gotten married and that my grandmother had smiled benevolently on me, me dressed in white, as Jamie and I married in a Russian Orthodox ceremony. I pretended that Jamie had brought me here as a honeymoon surprise. I played pretend, just for a moment, and then I was done. It did not do to play pretend.
I went then to the window and checked the lock. It was bolted loosely from the inside. I removed the ornate tie-backs from the window and laced them around the window locks. I then checked the room for any other entrances. The only other way to get in was the front door. I dragged the writing desk from one side of the room and jammed the door handle, barricading the door.
I pulled the curtains shut and then unrolled my weapons bundle. I stood looking down on them, considering what to do next. I checked the cartridge on the Glock and stuffed it into the holster. I reloaded the Magnum and did the same. There was a small ammo pouch on the holster, inside I stuffed the holy water inside—just in case. I also stuffed Jamie’s water gun, still loaded, into a pocket. I adjusted the shashka scabbard to bandolier style and threaded the throwing daggers onto a belt. From my boots I pulled out the doe and wolf poyasni. I slid each across the small whet stone I carried in the weapon roll and then stuffed them back into my boots.
A short while later there was a knock on the door.
I leaned against the door, sword drawn, and looked through the key-hole.
“Layla?” Jamie called.
I moved the desk and opened the door.
“I would have just come in, but I didn’t want you to shoot me.”
“I had the door barricaded anyway,” I said, motioning to the desk.
He laughed. “I heard.” He then looked around the room, at least the parts of it I had not dismantled. “Wow. This is really something.”
“Well, it is the bridal suite.”
Jamie look embarrassed. “Look, I’m not trying to, you know, force any issue. I just wanted you safe—with me. That’s all.”
I laid my sword on the bed and wrapped my hands around his neck. I pulled him into a deep kiss, my hand sliding across his back and shoulders, fingers toying with the hair at the base of his neck. He held me tightly, pressing my body against him. I could feel the heat rising between us.
Again, there was a knock on the door.