The Witch and the Huntsman (5 page)

After a few minutes, Mr. Schreich came up, wringing his hands and cringingly apologizing. All I could hear was something about being sure to have it in stock tomorrow night.

Meanwhile Kev came up behind me and said in a sort of loud whisper over the roar of clinking cutlery and dinner-table conversation, “What was all that about?”

“
They wanted some dish called
Langschweinefleisch
,” I told him. “I’ve never heard of it.”

He shrugged. Kev was even taller and, if possible, younger than Brittany. He was also good looking and so earnest, I wondered if he was a Mormon or something.

“
We get that requested a lot here. It’s some kind of Austrian game delicacy, I think.”

Duh, I’d thought it was a kind of wine, you know, like
Liebfraumilch
. He handed me a second tray of rainbow-colored macaroons and told me to follow him to table twelve.

“
You know, La Chasse isn’t just a ski resort; we’re a hunting lodge, too. Our parent company bags so much wild game around the world that the Jaegers also run their own specialty meat export business—that’s who supplies us when local game is scarce.”

That explained the van that had almost hit me coming in. “Who are the Jaegers?”

Kev lowered his voice almost fearfully. “Our employers. You know, the big boss, Regina Jaeger—Mrs. Jaeger—that’s her over by the door.”

I glanced quickly in that direction—and my gaze froze.

When you were a kid, did you ever meet an adult who made you feel like you were the lowliest scum on earth? Who made your blood turn cold whenever they walked into the room? Mrs. Roosevelt, my elementary school principal, was like that; she looked like she ate children for breakfast.

So did Regina Jaeger. The sight of her gave me a real jolt. I guess she was pretty, maybe even beautiful. Most guys would probably think so; she was tall and blonde, and looked like an ex-fashion model or movie starlet. It was pretty obvious that the Slavic bimbo she had on the reception desk had been hired to be her mini-me. But I didn’t like the look of her—and I could tell just in that split-second our eyes met, that she wasn’t crazy about me, either.

And it wasn’t just physical, either. Or the food stains I’d managed to spill on my shirt. Something passed between us on a psychic level. Something spooky. Because that’s the other thing; as Sam Moon had continued to feed on my blood and my psychic powers grew, I’d become able to see people’s auras. Brittany’s, for example, was clear and bluish, just what you’d expect from an open, honest kind of person. Kev’s was more complicated; there was courage there, but some treacherous yellow strands, too.

I’d expected something dark and twisted and evil from Regina Jaeger’s aura—maybe even something like the swirling faded crimsons and rotting egg-yolk grays of Mr. Schreich’s—but no.
Nothing
.

The woman had no aura at all. How was that possible? Even corpses keep giving them off for a while after death, I’d discovered. Was she one of the undead? Sam didn’t give off an aura. And neither did her werewolf boyfriend. Both immortal. Jesus, did I just say all that? Anyway, I shivered, and when I looked up again, she was gone.

“
That’s Eric, her stepson,” said Kev’s voice in my ear. It was like being woken from a trance—I’d forgotten his existence completely.

And what I saw next blotted it out completely. A rugged-looking blonde guy probably just on the south side of thirty had come into the ballroom and was standing in the doorway Mrs. Jaeger had just vacated. He was wearing a classic-notch, black, Western-style tux and a formal Stetson, and was very probably the hottest-looking guy I’d ever seen before in my life.

Honestly, he was even handsomer than Brad Pitt.

Instantly, I more or less forgot about all the unpleasant things I’d just been feeling a few seconds before. Okay, I wasn’t exactly mentally naming our firstborn yet, but it did seem like maybe it hadn’t been such a terrible idea to come here, after all, in spite of all my bad feelings and Millicent’s warnings.

Maybe meeting Eric Jaeger was meant to be...right? Every great love story has to start someplace.

Chapter Six

After most of the diners had left (most seemed headed for the lounge or the bar or a movie in the little theater), Kev and I found Brittany helping the kitchen staff load dishes into the industrial-sized stainless steel Mieles. Blowing her nose, she still looked weepy.

“
The shrike yelled at me,” she said miserably, then shot Kev a little look from under her long lashes that told me she had a major crush. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

He cleared his throat. “No biggie. We need to finish up busing the big room, then you need to show Allison where we keep the vacuums. I’ll get you an apron, Allison.”

“
I know I shouldn’t let it get to me,” said Brittany to me. “Crap like this happens every night, sometimes worse. It’s just that we’re so stretched without Marisa right now that we all have to run around all night at double-speed. Kev keeps telling me I need to ‘grow a pair.’”

“
They wouldn’t look good on you.” I followed her back out into the ballroom, tying my apron on and feeling like Wilma Flintstone.

“
What wouldn’t?”

“
A
pair
,” I said.

“
Oh, ha ha. Thanks. I wish Kev would notice that.” Who the heck cared about Kev? I was still tingling all over from my first glimpse of Eric Jaeger. And I was pretty sure he’d noticed me back...

“
Who’s Marisa?” I asked Brittany casually. We started loading crockery onto the trays of a tall, multi-level square cart after scraping out the leftovers into various bins and containers. It was surprising how little the guests actually ate compared to how much they ordered.

“
She’s another waitress… server, I mean. She totally flaked on us! That’s why we’re so short-staffed tonight. She went out to cater a hunting party yesterday—and never came back. All her stuff was still in her room in this morning, then before I came on shift, I saw Conrad packing it all up, and he said the Schreich told him she’d quit and wanted it FedEx’d to her. I’m really worried about her—she was my best friend here.”

“
What was she like?”

“
Quiet but intense, you know? You’d never guess she was from LA. Except for one weird thing about her; she never did anything without calling her psychic.”

Ah, I guessed that was me.
But why didn’t I have any memory of her except for that last call
? Could she have been a regular client of Bernice’s or one of the other operators? But she’d asked for me by name. It made no sense!

“
You said ‘her room.’ Does that mean I get one, too?”

“
Oh sure! I think. Don’t worry if Schreich hasn’t arranged anything for you yet; you can use hers. Or crash in mine if her door’s locked. Oh, look—this arugula salad’s almost totally untouched. Want some?”

I didn’t, but I was so hungry by now that my tummy was rumbling almost as noisily as the dishwasher. Hey, nothing like being a vampire’s personal blood bank to help you work up an appetite. Well, one-time blood bank. These days, Sam was determined to fight the entity within her—by starving it of human blood.

My
human blood. Sigh. I get it, but...sigh.

I said, “You eat the
leftovers
?”

She laughed. “No, silly. We eat the same meals the chefs prepare for themselves in the kitchen. Go ahead and just take whatever you want.
She
doesn’t know about it...”

By ‘she,’ Brittany obviously meant Regina Jaeger. However, I definitely had the feeling that the woman I’d seen earlier knew pretty much everything that went on here.

The three of us knocked off about one a.m. after cleaning up and vacuuming the floors. The regular cleaning crew would come in to mop and wax them overnight, I was told, before the ballroom opened again at six for breakfast. Our living quarters were in the Annex Chalet which was across the ‘Annex Getback’ and the ‘Gucci Run Liftline,’ whatever they were, so I collected my bags and followed Kev and Brittany down a long hallway whose lights flickered on and off just like in
The Shining
, and out the side doors of the west wing. My uniform had no pockets, so I’d had to leave my cell phone behind with my purse in Schreich’s office—we weren’t allowed to carry anything personal around with us while on duty, including ID.

And especially iPhones. And I really,
really
wanted to check mine because I was hoping Ivy had gotten back to me. But we were back out in the snow where I was afraid my rapidly-numbing fingers would drop it, so that would have to wait.

Speaking of which, the shock of the cold air almost took my breath away; a sharp, clear Arctic blast that made you totally not believe it was July.

“
Damn
—is it always this cold here?” I asked them, shivering. My breath hung in the air. “I mean, is there always snow on the ground year-round? It’s like being in Antarctica.”

Kev laughed. Off duty, he seemed to relax and become more likable—I could sort of see what Brittany saw in him. She shook her head.

“
No way. I used to come here sometimes when I was a kid and help out in the ski shop,” she said. “In the summers, the snowline retreated almost all the way up the mountain, and we had to use the snow machines. That’s why there’s an outdoor pool. Everything’s changed since Mr. Jaeger died a few years ago and Mrs. Jaeger took over. Now, it stays snowy all the time—I think we’re supposed to get another big storm in a couple days, right, Kev?”

And she glanced shyly at him.

“
Brittany’s going to take this place over someday,” he said, still grinning. “She knows everything about it.”
Uh oh
, I thought.
I mean his tone’s affectionate, but he sounds like her brother. Poor Brittany
.

We walked silently beneath the motionless ski-lift line. Then the snow-covered Douglas firs parted, and the Annex Chalet came into view under the starlit sky. It was a smaller, much humbler version of the main lodge, and only had a few lights on.

“
It looks almost deserted.”

“
That’s because most of the day employees are asleep,” said Kev. “Wait staff, shop staff, maids, cleaners, maintenance workers, security...there must be thirty or forty of us peons on the two-day shifts, maybe another dozen or so working the graveyard—and hey, speak of the devil! What’s up, Conrad?”

A tall, ghostly figure that looked like Mr. Schreich’s Ichabod Crane-like son materialized out of the gloom ahead of us, wearing a uniform just like ours, his eyes as reflective as mirrors. He nodded a few times like a night-bird and scuttled off.

“
Conrad does room service all night—that’s where all the big tips are.”

“
You mean
we
get tips, too?” I said.

“
Sure,” said Brittany. “That’s a third of our salary.”

No one had tipped me even a dime.

Like the lodge, the annex had two wings; in this case, divided into men’s and women’s dorms, and once we were inside, I said goodnight to Kev and followed Brittany upstairs. Luckily, I didn’t have to share her room; Marisa’s was unlocked, so I gave the place the once-over before I unpacked. It was really Spartan. Tiny, with just a bare-bones single bed in it, along with a small chest of drawers and a cheap bedside lamp—it looked more like what you’d find in a youth hostel than at a luxury resort. I put my bags down and checked my phone. Three text messages from Ivy, one from Bernice, and one from Smithy.

Ivy’s were all just “
???
”.

Bernice’s said, “
Heard about what happened with Donna. OMG. I’m so sorry! Call me.
”

Smithy’s was just his cell phone number. It was too late to call Bernice or the detective back, but I tried sending Ivy a text.

“
U there?
”

The reply came back after a minute: “
U ok?? U in that loj place???
” She meant ‘lodge’; typing long words wasn’t exactly Ivy’s thing.

“
S
ure. I’m fine, have a job here now, LOL. But Marisa the grl who called me is gone & Mil can’t find her soul anywhere. so maybe she’s still alive. In her room now
.”

“
Wish
cd b there w/ u now. Wll send all my warding powrs ur way
.”

“
That would be gr8, babe
.”

I sighed. Right now it would be even better to have her here in the flesh to give me some backup. Ivy could be a pain in the butt sometimes, but I could have really used her powers added to mine. Without Millicent at full strength, I was feeling very weak when it came to tackling whatever evil had taken over this place.

That it was a very powerful evil, I no longer had any doubt. Though it was cloaked from my second sight, I could feel its hypnotic influence everywhere. Even Britt and Kev, about as normal a pair as you could ever hope to meet, gave off mad vibes like abused
Stepford
stepkids. And why wasn’t I getting any visions about Marisa now that I was surrounded by the few pitiful personal possessions of hers that Conrad, the Bird of Carrion had left behind? It was like I was deep underwater, and only muffled sounds and fragments of light were coming from the surface.

“
Ok, wll do. Take gd care and wtch urself. Luv u
!
”

Film people. Gotta love ‘em.

I took a shower and had my first piece of luck—some of Marisa’s stuff had been left behind there. A loofah, some shampoo, a big comb with a few long strands of reddish hair in its teeth. A skilled witch like Ivy—a ‘kitchen witch’ they’re called because they know herbs and potions—could have summoned Marisa or at least visions of her from her hair alone, but I’d never been any good in the kitchen.