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I bend down and pull the larger crystal from my handbag and hold it up for her to see. It’s still glowing a faint blue color. “There’s definitely something in the hotel.”
Becka frowns. “Yeah, but blue isn’t for ghosts.”
“Fairy?” I guess. “Revenants? One of those Slavic vampire ghosts with the claws?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to do some research. In the meantime, why not try a séance?”
“You’re joking, right? I want to bag this ghost, not chitchat with it.”
“The jilted groom is obviously in hiding. Probably, he smelled monster hunters a mile away. You can use the power of the séance to draw him out. You know how ghosts are drawn to objects that carry memories, right? If you think the ghost is killing off couples because he didn’t get his happily ever after, then find something that will remind him of the bride who left him, and put it on the table. He won’t be able to resist.”
“Right. I’ll just dig up the empty sixty-year-old poison bottle the bride left lying around.”
“You’ll figure something out, Lil. You always do. Unless you want to wait for me? I have an exam tomorrow, and then I could—”
“No.” This hotel is feeling cramped enough as it is. The last thing I need is Becka trying to shove me into the arms of a Bellua, or onto a Bellua dick.
“Fine. Suit yourself. When the ghostie shows up, ask what it wants and force it to cross over. You’re not going to get answers by lying around in a heart-shaped bed, hoping to get attacked. Unless, of course, the answer you’re looking for is just how good is Bellua cock—”
“Fine,” I grumble as I reach for my backpack. “Remind me what magical mumbo jumbo do I need for a séance?”
12
TWELVE: LILY
It’s amazing the things you can accomplish when you’re a five-foot, curvy redhead with tits. I’m not saying men are pigs. But I’m also notnotsaying that, either.
Freddie, the concierge who helped carry our bags up to our rooms, is all too agreeable to my request.
“Why, of course!” His eyes gleam as he begins to rapidly type things into his computer. “I can definitely check the archives. Oh! This is so exciting. We don’t usually get genuine academics interested in the history of the Bridgemont. Only horror writers and wannabe crime solvers.” He rolls his eyes as if the prospect is ridiculous.
I toss a strand of my flame-colored hair over my shoulder with a lilting laugh. Freddie’s gaze instinctively dips to the swell of my breasts, now visible, and he swallows heavily.
Hook. Line. And sinker.
“Well, my professor said we had to research a building for our final project of the semester. Because it’s an architectural class, we not only need to look up the designs over the years, but also the history and why the designers chose what they did.” Ihave no idea if I’m making any sense, but Freddie seems to be eagerly chomping down on my piss-poor excuse.
Is this even a project real architectural students have to do? Probably not. But it was the only thing I could come up with on such short notice.
“Let me see what I can find!” Freddie flashes me another agreeable smile, this time keeping his gaze fixated firmly on my face.
Shame. The push-up bra I wore today really makes the girls look great.
“Is there anything in particular you want me to look into?”
“Well, I’m really interested in the time period between 1960 and 1970. I heard there were a lot of interesting things occurring at the time. Newspaper clippings would be very helpful.” I bat my eyelashes innocently as Freddie’s lips fold into a frown.
Of course, he doesn’t confess the truth—that the reason for the renovations was a grizzly murder. But I can see the knowledge flicking behind his eyes.
Still, that perpetual smile of his bounces back as quickly as a swinging pendulum. I almost wonder if I imagined the frown in the first place.
“Of course, Mrs. Dean. Shall I have the information sent to your room?”
I almost say yes before I think of my unwanted and irritating roommate. I should be workingwiththe Bellua brothers on this case, sharing our resources, but I have a feeling they’ll riot if they discover I’m going to attempt a séance. Monster hunters seem to be firmly “anti-magic” no matter the reasoning behind it.
These boy scouts probably hold crucifixes to their chests while watching theHarry Potterfilms.
The world is changing, boys, and you need to either hang on for the ride or be left behind.
