The Witch and the Huntsman (9 page)

“
Was she always in the hotel, I mean,
hospitality
, industry?” Which was a laugh; the bitch was about as hospitable as a cobra, as far as I could tell. “And what’s with this guy Schreich?”

Now, it wasn’t just his aura that seemed cold to me; so was his tone of voice. “Regina’s led a very interesting life, but I can’t tell you much about it, because I don’t know much. I can tell you that she’s a herbalist and a healer and comes from a noble family. Mr. Schreich is an old family servant of hers. I guess they still have those in Austria. If you’re curious, just ask her.”

Before I could put my foot in it any deeper, we came across a blood red stain smeared for a few feet along one of the ski paths. We both stopped and knelt beside it.

“
Looks like a predator kill,” Eric said. “Something big, too. Maybe a wolf took down a deer.” He glanced around, looking baffled. “But I don’t see any tracks.”

I dipped my finger in it. The blood had frozen and congealed like crimson cotton candy in the snow. The moment I touched it, my vision blurred and swam, and the world turned to darkness. Frigid cold surrounded me.

Just as in my dream, I was being hunted once again, running for my life through the night, my heart pounding in my chest. The torches bobbed and flamed behind me, sending crazy living shadows across the snow, and the ground shook beneath my feet from the hooves of the hunters’ horses. If that was even what they were...

The hunting horns and cries of my pursuers rang in my ears. I turned and caught an impression of glowing eyes and mouths, of monstrous horns and antlers growing from helmets, or maybe heads—and then I fell. The riders halted in a circle around me, and I could hear their slobbering breath, their evil laughter. I didn’t dare look up, but that didn’t save me—I felt a terrible piercing pain penetrating my body, and then I opened my eyes again to find Eric’s gray ones gazing deeply into them with concern.

“
Allison! Are you all right?”

I shook my head to clear it. My vision had been so...real.

“
Sure,” I said. “But this isn’t animal blood. It’s
human
.”

Chapter Twelve

On the way back to the lodge, Eric and I got into an argument about calling the police.

“
I don’t mean to question your belief or whatever that blood was human, but I’m an expert hunter and tracker—it’s what I do for a living. And we see traces like that all the time where game is killed, either by other hunters coming in from outside or by wild animals. I don’t want the guests upset by needless visits and questions from the police. You’re a city girl, and you—”

“
Eric! It’s
evidence
! You’ve just had one of your employees disappear under mysterious circumstance—Sergeant Doberman was up here looking for her just the night before last.” I took out my phone. “I have him on speed dial. Why don’t I—”

“
No, I’d better do it,” said Eric. “When you’re right, you’re right, Allison. I totally apologize. I was thinking like a businessman, not like a normal human being. I’ll put in the call from the office and then go back up there and tape the area off so that nobody disturbs it.”

Again with that sweet, soulful smile. Whenever he did that to me, I nearly forgot whatever it was I’d been talking about.

But I was reminded of it again pretty fast when I walked in the front door to the lodge, which, because of the snowdrifts, had been extended out into the parking lot by inflating a huge cylindrical padded vinyl tunnel over the walkway. Regina Jaeger, looking infuriatingly gorgeous and elegant, not to mention slender and tall in an expensive Claude Montana designer skirt, was pacing back and forth across the six-sided lobby like a caged panther hissing at somebody on her cell phone.

“
Next
week
? I don’t care how early in the week it is! I need someone
now—
half an hour ago. Someone poised, confident, and attractive. As well as youthful and physically fit. No, a female, please. Very well, that is the last of my business you will have. I will try another agency at once. Ah, there you are, Allison.” She pronounced my name like ‘Alley Zone.’

“
I should have known you would be prompt and early for your work. I am beginning to think you are a most excellent hire. And really so presentable, too.” In long strides, she had covered the distance between us and was brushing a few stray hairs back from my face with two long, cruelly nailed fingers. She stared at me with such naked hunger, I thought for a second she was about to bite me. Or kiss me, which might have been even worse.

“
You know what I am thinking? I’m thinking that if we should dress you in Ivanka’s clothes, you would be perfect for the position.”

I tried to edge away from her, as politely as I could. “What position? And who’s Ivanka?”

“
Our reception manager.
Receptionist
,” she added, when I looked blank. “She has completely disappeared! Just run off, like that silly Marisa girl. Why does this keep happening to me? Is this such a terrible place to work? Am I such an ogre? You must tell me truly, Allison. I know you will be honest—I can read your thoughts like a book.”

I sincerely hoped that was just a figure of speech, because otherwise, I was in the deepest of doo-doo...

Someone, probably the creepy weirdo night guy Conrad, had dragged Ivanka’s suitcases back from the Annex, and they were now stacked in Regina’s office. Which struck me as bizarre. I mean...how did anybody even know Ivanka was actually gone if she was only half an hour late for her shift this morning—and had left all her possessions in her room overnight?

But by the same token, would Regina be making such a big song and dance out of it if she knew what Ivanka’s actual fate was? Because I didn’t have any real doubt it had been the blonde receptionist’s mind I’d been inside just now. She might have been nasty to me and not very bright, but she certainly didn’t deserve to be hunted like a wild animal up and down a mountain all night.

Meanwhile, Regina was pawing through the poor Slavic girl’s possessions, pulling out skirts and blouses and jackets and making me try them on. She was playing dolls—and I was Barbie.

“
You have a lovely little body,” she kept saying, staring and touching me as she fastened and unfastened buttons and snaps. I’d been around plenty of lesbians at the go-go dancing clubs—had a few good lesbian friends, even—but I didn’t get the vibe that was what she was really after. It was more like she was deciding if I was worthy of her.

Or maybe just playing with her food...

“
I think you must really be quite an extraordinary spirit, Allison. I have a sensitivity for these things, you know, and I sense that you are a sister-soul, someone with much sympathy. I am a very unusual person, I admit. That makes me a lonely figure in this life. Often, I have longed for a true friend, someone I can impart all my wisdom and secrets to. I feel you might be that person. I sense that you have many very great talents...”

WTF was all this buttering up about? Was she just toying with me now? Did she already know I was a witch?
Did she know about Millicent
?
 

Equally scary, was she kind of making me a counteroffer? You know, like trying to seduce me away from the triad and into a witchy partnership thing with
her
?

She glanced at her jeweled Cartier watch. “Come. Your hair is still a fright, but we cannot leave the front desk uncovered any longer. I have a group coming in at eleven. I will train you personally.” Which was a laugh, because it turned out I was way better at figuring out the computerized bookings than she was. But when she
finally
left me alone to get on with my new job, I was no wiser about Regina than I’d been before.

The whole time I was with her, I had caught not even the teeniest, tiniest glimpse of her aura. Or of her true thoughts or intentions. I’d made no attempt to read them—I mean, if she’d felt even the least probing attempt on my part to do that, then my goose would have been cooked on the spot. But I couldn’t help but sense the thick dark shield around them. It was like hanging with Darth Vader’s Death Star. The whole time I was around her, I’d done my best to imitate it and give nothing away.

What she hadn’t told me was that I’d be working reception all day—and then be expected to waitress all evening, too. Mr. Schreich click-clacked by the front desk to leave me in no doubt of that. So much for any more hunting parties with Eric, I thought. At least for the foreseeable future. For minimum wage and tips, not all of which you get to keep, by the way—the busboys demanded their share, and Mr. Schreich, who had not earned a dime of it, took a hefty cut off the top.

So I was already in a pretty foul mood when I changed into my server’s uniform of salmon pink and black, and went in to wait dinner at six. It totally didn’t help that Kev and Brittany were pissed at me for instantly glomming onto a much better job my second day there. A real job, as Brittany said bitterly, with a salary and benefits, however pathetic. Which wasn’t exactly doing me any good at the moment, because I still had seven tables to cover.

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that waiting tables is easy. It’s hard freakin’ work—six hours or so of running from the kitchen to the dining room and back, over and over again, carrying heavy trays and plates of food, pleasing everyone no matter how difficult or demanding, and of course, keeping that big fat smile plastered to your kisser if you want a chance in hell of getting a big tip.

And
then
helping with the clean up before you can finally leave and go collapse in your tiny little room. Your tiny, very
crowded
little room, if you have a ghost bunking in with you who weirdly turns into flesh and blood off and on, and suddenly wants to wash her hair all the time and try out new skincare products, exfoliants and bath oils. Not
real
flesh and blood, of course; but something oddly similar.

All of which meant I was feeling even crappier by the time I crawled back to my crib sometime after midnight.

Only, Millicent wasn’t there. Instead, no sooner had I changed into my PJs and started brushing my teeth, than there was a timid tapping at my door.

It was Eric.

He was carrying something on a coat hanger, something black and velvety. I groaned at the sight of it. “Crap, not another damn uniform!”

He laughed, showing off big perfect white teeth. “Not exactly.” He lowered his voice. “We’re going to wake everybody up. Look, I know I shouldn’t ask this, but is it okay if I come in just for a minute? I haven’t seen you all day, and I’m starting to get Allison withdrawal symptoms. Bringing you this costume is basically just an excuse.”

“
Costume?”

“
For the masked Hunt Ball tomorrow night. Everybody has to wear one, so I got into the cloakroom early and snagged this for you.”

So what was I supposed to do? Say no? Make him go away while I tried it on? Or stand outside in the hall?  It was a party
costume
, for crying out loud! Who can resist that? As it turned out, it was a black cat suit, complete with furry ears and a mask with sexy little whiskers and a tail on wires that sort of whipped back and forth when I walked. As I discovered when I tried it on in the bathroom while he sat and waited on my bed for me to make my grand entrance in it.

“
Ta
dahhh
!” I said.

“
Wow,” was all he could say when I danced back into the bedroom. Eric’s eyes were on stalks, like a cartoon character. It made me feel more like Tweety Bird than Sylvester the cat...

Chapter Thirteen

“
But you’re not supposed to be a
cat
,” he said for like the dozenth time. “You’re supposed to be a mountain lion. The theme of the party is wild animals—the hunters and the hunted.”

“
There are black mountain lions?”

“
Well, black panthers, I guess,” he said. By now I was sitting on the bed next to him and we were drinking from a bottle of California Zinfandel I’d rescued from a table that had only drunk about a quarter of it. I’ve tried to give up alcohol and caffeine because they interfere with my powers, but tonight, I’d figured, what the hell and brought it back with me. After all, I knew Millicent was getting all hot to test her taste buds out. She kept swigging my Scope.

“
I’m not sure I’m allowed to be a black panther. I think a cougar is probably more appropriate in my case, anyway.”

“
What do you mean?”

I sighed heavily. I was getting super exhausted, really stretched to my physical limits, and the wine wasn’t exactly helping.

“
I wasn’t going to tell you this, Eric, but I guess I kind of have to before things go any further between us. I’m not exactly your age, I don’t think.” What the hell; might as well be totally honest with him. “I’m pretty sure I’m older than you — I’m thirty-five.”

“
So what?” He laughed again and said teasingly, “I’m totally into older women.”

“
How much older
?” I asked. Sounding a lot sharper than I meant to. I guess I was thinking of Regina.

“
Hey, chill, Allison. Sounds like this is your way of asking me how old I am. I’m twenty-six.”

My heart sank. “That’s
nine
years difference between us! I’d be
cradle-snatching
.”

“
I don’t exactly sleep in a cradle lately. Besides—you look amazing for any age. Seriously, I actually thought you were a year or two younger than me. But the bottom line: I totally just don’t care.”

“
But I do. It wouldn’t be fair to you to start a relationship—and I don’t want a casual hookup, sorry. Been there, done that. Not for me.”

Actually, that last bit wasn’t exactly completely 100% true. It had been a
really
long time since I’d been with anybody. I mean, there had been one or two guys since Victor, but neither had amounted to anything, so I was actually going pretty batshit crazy being on my own all this time. Let’s face it, I was getting attention-starved. Right now even a casual fling was looking pretty good—especially with the world’s cutest guy.