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"Room 422. Just bring it back when you're done, please." He cocked his head and looked expectantly at Camil e. She languorously kissed her fingertips and blew the kiss to him. He let out a happy shudder, and I quickly looked away. Some men were so easy . . .
We headed for the elevator before anybody saw us. When we stepped out onto the fourth floor, room 422 was right around the corner. I listened at the door. No sound. After a moment, I stood back and nodded. Camil e moved in, slid the card in the lock, and it clicked. As she opened the door, she pul ed to the side, and I pushed through first, slamming my hand against the light switch.
Light flooded the room, but it was empty. Camil e peeked in the bathroom, then relaxed and shut the door.
"Nobody here."
"Maybe not now, but someone was." I opened the dresser and checked the drawers. Scattered tops, a couple pregnancy skirts, some underwear . . .
Amber had been here, al right. "Check the closet. Suitcase?"
Camil e pushed open the flimsy folding door that covered the closet. "Suitcase, check, and two pairs of shoes. Also, one coat."
I frowned. It was far too chil y for someone from Arizona to wander around Seattle without her coat in late October. Especial y if she was pregnant. "Do you see her purse anywhere?"
"Here it is, behind the bed, near the wal . How odd," Camil e said. "No woman tosses her purse on the floor behind her bed."
She handed it to me, and I sorted through it. "Her ID is here, her driver's license, medication--she's on something . . . probably for her pregnancy. Let me see . . . wal et is empty, but credit cards are stil there." I looked over at her where she sat on the bed and added, "This doesn't look good."
She paused, then cocked her head. "I get a real y strange energy from this room, Kitten. Al tingly with magic--but I can't identify it."
I couldn't pick up energy the way my sister could, but I had the same feeling, and it stemmed purely from my gut. "Where's it coming from?"
Camil e closed her eyes and held out her hands. "The . . . minibar? How odd." As she knelt to open the door to the miniature refrigerator, a loud pop sounded, and a cloud of something wafted through the room.
"What the fuck?" Camil e jumped back, choking so hard I thought she was going to cough her lungs out. "I . . . dizzy . . ." She reached for the dresser to steady herself and then crumpled to the ground.
"Camil e!" I hurried over to her side, but the minute I got near, my eyes began to water, and I couldn't focus on what I was about to do. Magic. It had to be some sort of magic from whatever had come blowing out of that minibar.
I stumbled away and leaned on the bed, breathing deeply, shaking my head. After a moment, the fog began to dissipate, and I opened the window, trying to get it to disperse, then grabbed my cel phone.
Glancing over at Camil e, who was stil stretched out on the floor, comatose, I quickly punched in the number for the FH-CSI, then the extension for Sharah. She was on the line almost immediately--must be a slow day--and I told her what had happened and gave the address.
"Please keep breathing, please . . ." I could see the gentle rise and fal of my sister's breast, reassuring me that at least she was alive. Whatever hit her seemed to be clearing out on the currents of fresh, cold air, but I didn't dare chance getting near her again, of both of us hitting the deck.
Ten minutes later, a discreet knock on the door sounded. It was Sharah. She must have busted ass to get there.
"It's Camil e," I said, pointing to her prone figure. "She opened the minibar, something went poof, and she went down. When I went in to get her, she was out like a light, and I started to get so disoriented I couldn't stay near her."
Sharah nodded and put on a simple gas mask, then crept over to Camil e and pul ed her out of the area, dragging her to the bed, where I helped lift her onto the sheets. Sharah checked her over quickly.
"She seems okay. If she doesn't wake up by the time I'm done here, we'l take her back to the hospital." She headed over to the minibar. Gingerly, she peeked inside. "Magical trap, al right, timed to go off when the door opened." She touched it gingerly with gloved hands. "Hard to tel what this is for. I think we'd better take Camil e and go back to headquarters while I dissect this."
While she finished detaching the trap from where it had been connected to the cabinet, I scoured the rest of the room but found nothing. While waiting for her to finish, I ran down what we were doing here.
"I'm wondering--werewolves don't deal with magic much, so what the hel was Rice doing with a magical trap?"
Sharah nodded slowly. "You're right. Lycanthropes, above al Weres, detest magic and don't like being around it. If he's like a typical werewolf, her husband wouldn't use a magical trap unless he was forced. We'd better get this back to HQ and analyze it. And Camil e seems no closer to coming around. That concerns me." She flipped open her cel phone and quietly spoke into it for a moment. "Shamas wil be here in a moment with a stretcher."
For the first time since she'd passed out, I began to real y worry. "You think she'l come around, don't you?"
"I'm sure she'l be okay. We just have to find out what this crap is."
"Hel ." I sank on the bed next to Camil e and clasped one of her hands. She was cold--not death-cold, but cold. Silently, I gathered a blanket and spread it over her. After a moment, I looked up to find Sharah watching me.
"Chase told me you guys broke up last night. Are you okay?" She blushed. "I don't mean to pry, but he was so quiet this morning that I was worried."
Stung by the fact that she was the one getting to watch over him, I let out a short huff. "Yeah, I'm just dandy. I guess this is one of the perks of being a soldier on the front line. Life changes in an instant. And even when you save the day, you sometimes lose the battle. Save his life and lose him . . . don't save his life and lose him. Either way, I lose."
