Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [88]
The doors opened. Rowe stepped into the hallway first, and only when he nodded did Shadwell let us know we could move forward. Chuck didn’t check the hallway as well as they did. He was a fixer of problems, not really a bodyguard.
“He was flirting,” I said.
“Weird flirting.”
“I’ve seen weirder.”
Chuck gave me a look like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t care if he believed me; all I needed was our room and privacy. I needed Jason to help me push the tiger back and feed the ardeur. When that was done we’d worry about what Chuck knew, or thought he knew about us.
“You don’t look so good,” Rowe said.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You know what I mean. Did the were-whatever or vampire do something to you that we mundanes couldn’t see?”
That was a good question; a smart question. Too smart a question. Again, Jason saved me from trying to answer.
“For those of us who can sense the energy of the unseen, you have no idea how it can affect you. It can be the biggest rush, or the biggest downer.”
“What makes the difference?” Rowe asked.
Shadwell said, “Once we’re inside the room you can ask twenty questions, Rowe. We need our eyes and ears for work.”
We let Shadwell save us from answering the second question, but his being so serious about the hallway walk to the room made me remember that I had questions. Ones that needed answers. But the metaphysical problem was going to outrank the mystery. I had to get better at this stuff. It was affecting my jobs, and my life, in ways that were not good.
When we reached the door to our room, Shadwell held out his hand. “What?” Jason asked.
“Key card, so I’m first through the door.”
“Jesus,” I said, “Shadwell, you didn’t do that earlier. Did you guys get another message that the threat is even worse?”
Shadwell tried for blank cop eyes, but ended up just looking angry. “Please give me the key card.”
Jason looked at me. “He did say please.”
I started to argue, but something in my stomach contracted so hard that it doubled me over. I thought What? and saw the pale gold and white of the weretiger that had nearly killed me. The tiger looked at me for a second; the old and orange eyes were overlaid with an echo of Crispin’s from the room above. The thought doubled me over, took my knees out from under me. Jason had to catch me or I would have fallen.
The door got opened by Shadwell while I was still fighting to breathe and remain calm. My fear was part of what allowed the beasts to get the upper hand. But it was so hard not to be afraid. So hard not to anticipate the feel of claws and teeth trying to eat their way out of me. I was tired of the pain; tired of the problem; just plain tired. I had been arrogant. I took a metaphysical ability to feed on lust to a bachelorette party with strippers. Fuck, what had I been thinking?
Shadwell held the door and Jason helped me inside. He picked me up, carried me to the bed. I was staring into the tiger’s face, but it wasn’t just the pale-gold-and-cream tiger, but like a second tiger was superimposed on top of the first as if my eyes were blurring. What was happening? The phantom cat, or cats, stood eye to eye with me in some sort of waking dream. Except this dream never changed; eyes closed, eyes opened, I saw the tigers staring at me. I’d never had that happen before.
“Everyone out,” Jason said.
“Our orders are that no one gets left alone,” Shadwell said.
“Then stay outside the door,” Jason said.
“Our orders are very clear,” Shadwell said.
The tiger moved closer to me, as if it were some huge dog phantom, and wanted to touch my nose with its own. But this was no dog.
I found my voice and spoke carefully, as if afraid that I would spook it. “Jason, something’s wrong, different.”
“I know.”
“Can you see it?” I whispered.
“See what?” Chuck asked.
“No,” Jason said, “but I can smell it.”
“Smell what?” Chuck asked.
Jason said, “You have to leave now, all of you. If you don’t go I’ll call down to hotel security.”
“They won’t help you,” Chuck said.
“I’ll call the reporters and tell them you tried to molest Anita.