Authors: E. J. Squires
Tags: #romance, #paranormal, #young adult, #norse, #folklore and mythology, #huldra
“
We’ll have to exit this
way.” Skuld opens the door and looks both ways. She has a small
silver pistol in her hand. “The coast is clear.” She signals for us
to come and we all steal toward the parking garage.
“
Stop!” I hear the hostess
yell behind us. I don’t look back, but instead pick up my pace and
run as fast as I can toward the exit.
“
To the car—follow me!”
Anthony grabs my hand, hauling me along. The Lightálfars are able
to shoot down the two others, and then they follow us into the
parking garage and run toward their car.
Bullets zoom past us, and the few people who
are in the restaurant are screaming. “Call 911!” I hear someone
yell, but I’m not going to risk my life to try and find my phone in
my purse. Besides, the hostess is only after us anyway and will
hopefully not shoot at any late-night customers.
Sprinting into the parking garage, I rummage
through my purse to find the car keys. When I can’t find them, I
pour the contents of the purse out onto the asphalt and pick up my
phone, wallet and keys, leaving everything else on the ground. But
before I’m able to move on, the hostess catches up with me, and
shoves me to the ground. The keys, my phone and wallet go flying
through the air, landing a few yards away. I also see that the
hostess has dropped her gun. I hop to my feet as quickly as
possible, just like Anthony taught me, and try to reach the gun.
But the hostess pulls me back, comes at me and I duck. Once I stand
up straight, I thrust the base of my hand into her nose with all my
might. She screams and grabs her nose, thick, red blood oozing from
it. Refocusing her attention on me, she lunges toward me and locks
her arms around my waist. As I plummet to the ground I accidentally
kick the gun and it skids across the concrete, ending up underneath
one of the parked cars. Falling down, I hit the concrete, my head
slams against it, and I let out a cry. Anthony is right there and
pulls the hostess off me, flinging her in through the revolving
door we just exited. He has already picked up my belongings and we
dash toward the SUV.
Right when I lock my door, the hostess
appears in front of the window, aims her gun toward me and shoots
several rounds. I duck, expecting the glass to shatter, but only
loud thumping sounds can be heard instead.
“
Did your mother have
bulletproof windows installed?” Anthony asks, revving up the
engine.
“
She must have.” Thank you,
Mom!
Anthony backs up, the hostess still firing
bullets at us. Then as Anthony drives forward and is about to mow
her down, she vanishes into a swirly smoke of blackness.
“
A Darkálfar!” Anthony
yells. “You know what this means, right?”
“
Maureen knows we’re
working against her and that we’re in contact with the
Lightálfars,” I say, barely able to speak. “And we no longer have
the element of surprise on our side.”
Chapter 26
Anthony speeds through the tight and
twisting maze of the parking garage, the tires of the SUV
screeching at every turn. I feel the back of my head and notice
there’s a tender bump there from falling on the concrete.
“
How do you know Maureen
won’t know which hotel we’re at?” I ask.
“
She won’t, trust me. I’ve
dined at the Bergdorf with her before, so I should have known she
had her spies there.”
“
How do you know she
doesn’t have them at the hotel, and how did she know we were at the
restaurant in the first place?” I say, trying to hold onto my seat
as best as I can. The SUV slides on the slick concrete and I feel
dizzy and nauseated.
“
I don’t know anything for
sure, Sonia. Any other hotel is just as safe or unsafe, in my
opinion. Even if we went into the woods and slept, we still
wouldn’t be safe.” Winding through the parking garage, Anthony
finds his phone, opens the window, and flings it out. “Give me your
phone.”
“
Not if you’re going
to—”
He grabs it off my lap and flings it out the
window too. “There could be tracking devices in them and that might
be how Maureen found out where we were.”
“
Oh.” She could even have
been listening to all our phone conversations and that’s how she
knew where we were. “Do you realize what just happened back there?
The Darkálfar shot you in the chest, and I watched you die!” The
image of his dead body is burned into my mind.
“
What are you talking
about?” Anthony says.
Maybe he doesn’t remember what happened back
there because he died. “The Lightálfars warped the time back after
the hostess shot you in the chest!” I start to cry. I hate crying
in front of Anthony because it makes me feel weak.
“
I died?” His face goes
white.
“
Yes, Anthony, you died!”
Tears flood my eyes now and I let out a sob.
“
I can’t believe my own
mother tried to have me killed!” Anthony’s voice trembles with
rage. “Obviously she knows I lied to her and now she’s furious, but
what’s worse is she knows we’re here. We need to come up with
another plan. Shoot, shoot, shoot!” He slams his fist into the
steering wheel. “I don’t know how to get to Wraithsong
Island.”
“
The Lightálfars might
know, Anthony.” I sniffle. My hands shake uncontrollably, so I
brace my chest in an attempt to calm down.
“
Okay, that’s true.” He
settles down a little. Finally at the ground level, he turns right
onto the street. “The Darkálfar could follow us to the hotel, so
I’m not going to head there right away.”
My legs are achy, and my back is tight. I
really don’t want to sit in the car anymore after our lengthy road
trip, but I know we need to take extra precautions in order to be
safe.
Once at a stoplight, Anthony looks over at
me. “Everything will be fine.” He takes my hand in his, holding it
for a long time.
I want to believe him, I really do.
* * *
Two hours later, with no sightings of the
Darkálfar following us, we pull in front of the hotel.
“
Welcome to Porter Hotel
Central Park,” the doorman says. He’s wearing a dark gray suit,
matching hat, and gold buttons at the collar, attire I’d usually
see on a doorman in the movies. “Is there anything I can do for you
right now?” He closes the car door with his white glove-covered
hands.
“
No thanks.” I’m so
exhausted physically and emotionally that I can barely manage to
get my words to sound like English.
The doorman grabs our bags from the trunk.
“Follow me, please.” He orders a young-looking valet to park our
SUV. We enter into the large foyer through the gold-framed glass
doors and the concierge smiles warmly when we approach the marble
counter.
“
Good evening. What’s your
last name, sir?” the concierge asks.
“
Jensen,” Anthony
says.
“
Mr. Jensen, welcome to
Porter Hotel Central Park.” She types a few things into her
computer. “I show two—two bedrooms with park views reserved for
you. Is that correct?” Her smile is calm and sweet.
“
Yes,” Anthony
says.
I wander off toward the sitting area. The
tan marble floor is so glossy that I see my reflection in it. Brown
leather couches sit on either end of diamond-shaped wooden tables.
Rows of fluted wood pillars line the walls and crystal chandeliers
hang from the ceilings.
“
Ready?” Anthony asks. He
offers his arm to me in a very gentlemanly manner.
I manage a miniature smile and gladly take
his arm. It helps calm my frazzled nerves. “Yes. Have the others
arrived yet?”
“
No, but I called them and
they’ll be here in an hour or so,” he says. We enter the
elevator.
My stomach flutters when the elevator
ascends upward and again when it stops. The hallways are much
roomier than at other hotels I’ve stayed at with my mom. If I
wasn’t so traumatized, I might have enjoyed staying here.
“
Ah, here we are,” the
doorman says, stopping at our entrance. “So are you two
honeymooning?”
“
No,” I say and feel my
cheeks flush hot. “We’re just on a graduation trip. We’ll be
meeting up with some other friends as well.”
“
That sounds like fun. I
remember when I was your age, oh that must have been forty years
ago, but I took a trip to France with my old pa’. I’ll never forget
how long it took to climb the stairs to get to the top of the
Eiffel Tower! My legs were sore for weeks after, I tell ya. Nice
view, though. If you ever get a chance, France is the place to
visit.” He opens the door.
“
I’m sure it is,” I say,
stepping into the room. The room looks like an apartment for a king
or queen with floor to ceiling windows. I can see most of New York
and possibly even all of Central Park. I follow the doorman
around.
“
Here is the master bedroom
with a full bath.” The ivory duvet and amethyst pillows scream for
me to come and lay in them. “Here’s the attached bath.” Granite
countertops with two vanities stand to my left when I enter, and a
huge whirlpool tub is situated at the end by the window. I can’t
wait to soak in a bath.
The doorman continues over to the other side
of the living area. “Here is the other room with a queen-sized bed,
and it also has a full bath. Here is the living room as you can
see, and the dining area.”
I nod.
He walks over to the foyer again.
Anthony flips on the flat screen to a soccer
game and sinks into the bronzed leather couch. He seems to be in a
completely different universe.
“
Anything else I can get
for you while I’m here?” the doorman says with a smile.
“
No, that will be all,
thank you.” I just want to unwind and go to bed. I feel like I’ve
been blown up by an atomic bomb, and I’m trying to hold all the
particles in my body together.
Anthony comes into the hallway with a
hundred-dollar bill. “Here, thanks for your help, sir.”
“
Thank you,” the doorman
says. “I’ll be here all night, so if you need anything, don’t
hesitate to call.”
After the doorman leaves, I immediately
start unpacking, stacking my clothes into the espresso colored
eight-drawer dresser in the master bedroom. “I’m going to take a
bath,” I say. “I need to unwind from everything.”
“
Okay,” Anthony says, not
in his usual energetic voice.
He sounds like he needs some encouragement,
so I sit down next to him on the couch.
“
Are you all right?” I
touch him on the shoulder.
“
Yeah, fine.”
“
Are you sure?”
“
Yes,” he says without
looking at me. When I don’t get up, he looks at me. “What’s
up?”
I breathe. I don’t want to force him to open
up, but it might help him if we talk about what just happened.
“Well, your mom did just try to kill you, and I can’t imagine what
that must feel like.”
“
I’d rather not talk about
it right now. I just need to relax for a bit.” He smiles at me, but
his smile is strained and his eyes are still worried.
“
Okay, but just know that
if you need to talk, I’m here,” I say. I’m so grateful that he’s
here with me, and that he has so willingly risked his life so I
could get my mom back. I can’t imagine what he must be going
through, how he could possibly process and make sense of what his
own mom tried to do—and actually did. I rest my hand on top of his
for a moment, offering the measly support I can. When he doesn’t
respond, I leave to go take a bath.
Chapter 27
I thought that an Epsom salt bath would have
helped me relax. But since it’s quiet I keep thinking about my mom
and how her life is in the hands of a woman who just a few hours
ago killed her own son. Each time I close my eyes, Anthony’s dead
body is right there in front of me so I keep them open, even though
my eyelids feel heavy. I have to let these images and thoughts go,
or I’ll drive myself insane.
After my bath, I put on my pink and
white-striped pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. My worry
continues to build when I think about how brutal Maureen’s people
are. They would kill us at the blink of an eye with just one order
from their leader. My mom must surely be in pain and must fear for
her life, and I’m certain she is worried sick about me too. I wish
I could communicate with her somehow and tell her that I’m all
right. After agonizing for some time, and then beating myself up
about it, I go out to sit down next to Anthony. His eyes are still
glued to the TV screen.
“
Hey, did you notice
something strange about the hostess’ aura?” I ask, trying to
understand what happened in the Bergdorf Restaurant.
“
I noticed that it was
darker than normal, but I didn’t think at the time that it was
unusual. Darkálfars don’t have auras, so I gave it no second
thought,” Anthony says. “I should have, though. It was a stupid
mistake on my part.”
“
Mani did mention that
Darkálfars could make it look like they have auras,” I
say.
“
Yeah,” Anthony says,
clearly not engaging himself in our conversation.
“
I’ve been thinking more
about this whole gift of mine, and I might as well let Maureen have
it. Then she’ll leave us be and she’ll have what she wants, and I
get my mom back.”