I had no time to react; she was on me again. I was still barefoot and the roof was rough under my feet. She swung again; I blocked and struck her with a hard upper-cut. She fell backward across the roof and then rolled to the ground below. With a jump, I followed her, my bare feet landing in the soft grass, mud oozing up between my toes.
Lightning shot across the sky, and a moment later there was a loud clap of thunder. Buried in the thunder-clap was the strange cat-like howl of the man who tried to creep into Frenchie’s room. He had jumped backward, away from the door and onto the balcony railing, and was cradling his hand. It looked like it was smoking. With a yelp, he bounded across the balconies and disappeared back into the night.
The woman had stopped to watch the scene, a confused and worried look on her face. I took that split second to look around. In the manicured flowerbed in front of the hotel I spotted a poured concrete garden gnome. I grabbed the smiling little creature, turned, and with a heave, smashed it on the woman’s head.
Clutching her head, she fell to the ground with a screech. I pounced on top of her. The massive cut I had leveled across her head and face had slowly begun to heal. I had her pinned, but she was getting better by the second. She grinned at me, her sharp teeth showing. I heaved the lawn ornament once more; then, I felt it. There was a surge of strange energy in the air and then she simply poofed, transforming into a shadow. Where she had been lying beneath me there was now a black, ethereal form, a shadow. It slipped easily out of my grasp and with a twirl, it vanished into the night.
Tossing the gnome, I picked myself up and ran. I vaulted the porch railing and hit the main hotel doors. They were locked. As I yanked at the door handle, I noticed someone was inside. It was Finn. He looked up at me and smiled and waved. I turned then and ran toward the door at the end of the building near the infirmary. To my luck, it was open.
I dashed down the hallway. I paused for just a moment at Ian’s room. He slept soundly; no one was in sight. I ran then to the main foyer, soaking wet and still in my underwear, and up the grand stairway. Finn was no longer in the lobby.
I went at once to Frenchie’s door and knocked. “Frenchie!”
“Layla?” Frenchie said sleepily as she opened the door. Once she saw my appearance, however, she was alert.
“Someone tried your window,” I said and rushed across the room to check the door. It was open just an inch or two. The thunder outside boomed. When he’d pried the door open, he must have passed the line in the salt, burning his hand. I pulled the door closed and locked it.
“Who? Layla, you’re soaking. And half-naked,” Frenchie said.
“One of them.”
Frenchie took my hand. “You’re bleeding,” she whispered, blotting blood off my forehead. “I’ll go get Jamie.”
“No.”
“I’ll be fast. Stay with the girls,” she said and then left.
A few moments after she had gone there was a soft knock on the door.
Thinking it was Frenchie and Jamie, I opened the door without hesitation. Corbin was standing on the other side.
He smiled when he saw me. I saw him take in the room; the girl’s sleeping in the bed, the salt in front of the door, my half-naked self, and the nasty wound on my forehead.
“Ouch,” he said, looking at the cut. “Looks like it hurts. I understand there was some commotion? May I be of assistance?” he asked.
I laughed. “Seriously? Tell your boss we want to go home. I don’t want trouble. If she agrees, we’ll leave peacefully.”
Corbin smiled at me. His teeth were small and pointed. “You are home,” he said.
“Just deliver my message like the flunky you are.”
A dark shadow crossed his face, and he took a step closer toward me.
I stepped back into the room: “uh, uh, uh,” I said, shaking my finger and casting a glance toward the salt.
Corbin glared at me, his face a thundercloud. He cast a glance toward the sliding glass door behind me. The first hint of morning light had appeared on the horizon.
At that same moment, Jamie and Frenchie turned the corner. Jamie had his gun drawn. He raised it at Corbin as he walked down the hall toward us.
Corbin took a long, hard look at Jamie and then stalked down the hallway in the other direction.
Jamie grabbed me as he rushed into the room. “I woke up and you were gone; all your stuff was there and the window was open. Oh my god, Layla. I thought the worst,” he said, crushing me to him. “You’re soaked and freezing,” he added.
Frenchie crossed the room to check on the girls. They were still sleeping. She pushed the curtain aside and looked outside. “It’s almost sun-up,” she observed.
“What happened?” Jamie whispered. He looked at the wound on my forehead. “You need stitches.”
I looked back at Frenchie and the girls.
“We’re okay. Go get some rest,” she said.
“No, we should stay with you,” I replied.