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“You got one,” he answered. He slid a little white envelope toward her with a card tucked inside.
“Thanks,” she said, and pulled out her wad of money. “How much?”
“Paid for by your boyfriend,” the man answered, and turned to fuss with his reservation cards.
“The big guy?”
“Yes, he paid for you. Said you are his girlfriend and need your own room to be respectful to your father. ” He looked at her as if he didn't believe she could ever be respectful.
“Oh, well, thanks,” she said, and took the card.
Walking back out into the night, Amaliya felt as if maybe her luck was changing. First a good, clean ride into Dallas and now a free hotel room. She had yet to spend any of the money she had brought with her. Heaving her bag
onto her back, she trudged up the stairs to the second floor. She started scanning doors for her hotel room number. Her hearing seemed to be keener than before for she could clearly hear what was going on behind each door. When she heard two burly male voices urging each other on for hotter sex followed by a room with a family reading the Bible, she struggled not to burst out laughing.
Finding her room at the far end and tucked a little out of the way, she slipped the card into the slot on the electronic device on the door. The little light turned green and she shoved the door open. She sighed as a room, nearly identical to the one she had left Pete in, swung into view. The door clicked shut behind her. She threw the bag on the first bed, walked over to the second queen size bed, and grabbed the comforter.
Yanking the ugly thing off the bed, Amaliya carried it to the vanity. She frowned at the empty room in the mirror. She easily jumped onto the counter and worked at getting the comforter adjusted over the mirror. It was a little hard since it was bolted to the wall, but she managed to get it tucked around the corners. Jumping back down, she looked at the ugly bedspread covering the mirror with satisfaction. She did not need to deal with staring into an empty mirror tonight.
Kicking off her boots, she sprawled on one of the beds and turned on the TV. Some late night news show was on and to her surprise, her old college was being shown in stock photos. But then again, how could she be surprised? She knew this was coming. Chewing on her thumbnail, she turned up the sound as video of body bags being carried out of the frat house filled the screen.
“Well, you know, man, they were in a secret room. That's just weird,” a student was saying to a reporter.
“Did you know anyone who was killed?”
“No, no, but that one guy was like the football star. We're gonna lose all the games next season, that's for sure. ”
“Did you hear rumors about a cult being on campus?”
“Satanists are everywhere, man. I saw it at my church camp. They had a video,” the guy said confidently.
Amaliya rolled her eyes.
“There is still no official word on the cause of death, but many speculate that this could have been a ritual killing. Whether or not the deceased were willing participants, remains to be determined. Sources close to the investigation say that the room held evidence of-” the female reporter hesitated “evidence of an orgy and drug use. The authorities and school officials ask that students call in to the number on the screen. They are still trying to estimate how many students may still be missing. As stated earlier, there is a report of an unmarked grave being discovered in the forest behind the school. The grave held the body of a young woman that has yet to be identified. Authorities are now searching the woods as a report of yet another grave being discovered has surfaced. This one was supposedly empty. ”
“He killed another girl?” Amaliya blinked. “Shit. ”
She rolled onto her back and killed the sound. So far she was safe from suspicion. The satanic cult theory would take awhile to disprove and she knew that people would cling to it like crazy. Satanists were easier to believe in than vampires. Slowly, she worked her socks off her feet using her toes as she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. She almost felt angry and jealous that the Professor had killed another girl and just not her. She wondered why the other girl hadn't changed like she had.
Probably her bad luck. . . again.
“Well, fuck it,” she muttered, and slid off the bed. Shoving her jeans down over her hips, she pulled the covers down on the second queen size bed in the room. Dancing her way out of her pant legs, she collapsed on the bed and stared at her toes. Her toe nails were looking wicked sharp, too.
Grabbing her toiletry bag, she headed over to the vanity to brush her teeth and wash her face. Maybe both things were totally unnecessary now, but she felt the need to do something normal. She was leaning over the sink, scrubbing away when she heard the door open behind her. Whirling around, she was startled to see Rob standing in the doorway staring at her with his usual blank look. In utter silence, he shut the door and walked over and sat down on the bed she had turned down. Spitting out the toothpaste and quickly rinsing out her mouth, she tried to process his strange appearance in the room.
“Uh, Rob? What are you doing here?”
Sitting with his hands on his knees, he turned his head and looked at her calmly. “I paid for the room. They gave me a card. ”
“Yeah, but why are you here?” She put her hands on her hips and tried not to be intimidated by the fact she was standing in her pink and black bikini underwear and AC/DC tank.
He slowly smiled. “You're a nice girl. ”
She snorted slightly, and shook her head. “Okay, maybe, but why the hell are you in my hotel room?”
Shifting his massive weight, he adjusted himself and gave her a surprisingly sly expression. “You know. ”
“Aw, fuck,” she said, and threw up her hands. “My luck so freaking sucks. ”
