Regge approached the counter, his expression tucked into neutral calm as he reached for the pizza box. “Thank you for this.” A flash of a smile. “Ooh, meat lovers. My favorite.”
“I know.”
«±»
When I woke up, I was a little disoriented, but the snuffling snore coming from the futon reminded me. Smiling, I rolled onto the floor from the airbed and padded to the bathroom. Showering quickly, I pulled on the same jeans from the day before and hoped to escape before Regge woke.
“You want some tea? Or I have coffee too.” Regge, still dressed in his sleepwear, stood at his kitchen sink. He set the kettle down and flipped the switch.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I know it’s early.”
“You didn’t. Wake me, I mean. What’s your gig today?”
“It’s a wedding. I’m setting up chairs and buffets. I will be done by two.” I fidgeted. “Um, do you want to go by the hotel? After I get back?”
“Hotel?”
“The Fulbright. I want to do a little investigating.” I waited.
“Oh yeah. Of course,” he said.
“I want to talk to the desk clerk and see if he knows something about the owner. I mean, the sooner it’s fixed, the sooner those guys will get out of my place and—”
“Sounds good.” Regge dropped tea bags into mugs.
I paused, not meaning to sound ungrateful or that I wanted out of Regge’s hair as soon as possible. I did, though, want to be away from here. It was too painful, too nerve jarring.
In the past, we’d never run out of things to talk about. Not since we met. Everything was interesting to Regge, and I was fascinated by his take on the modern world, but it had beenmonths since the night at the club. Months even, since he’d quit working at Pinkie’s. Last night, our conversation was kept to work, our friends, and pizza. I rattled on, filling the silence.
“Abraham told me the old guy we pulled from the rubble has disappeared from the hospital. Checked himself out, I guess. Abe’s busy finding more space for folks, and well, I thought I’d check things out, you know?”
“It’s fine. I said I’d go.” Regge’s tone had changed. Again, there was that stiffness in the breadth of his shoulders, the way his eyes avoided me.
Now I really wished I’d been able to sneak out before he woke. But the mug of tea was on the counter. It was rude to rush out the door, so I crossed the room and picked it up, drinking it too fast and scalding my tongue. All so I could escape the tension I’d created just by being.
Chapter Four
Hunter on encountering ghosts and curbing jealousy
Idrove to Regge’s place after work to find him sitting on the top step, waiting. He wore a dark hoodie, jeans faded to an inch of their denim lives, and his typical kicks. My mouth twitched as I remembered his comment on modern footwear.Why do the folk here name their shoes? Nikes, Skechers, and oh…. these are amazing. My feet are on clouds.He’d walked around with a grin on his face the rest of the day, commenting that his feet were sad when he finally took off his new shoes before bed. He’d worn Vans ever since.
I pulled up and Regge skipped down the steps and slid into the passenger side. On the way through town, I explained more about the explosion, my vision, the strange old man we’d found. Regge listened, asking appropriate questions.
Philadelphia was an old city, relatively speaking, and some sections of town had thrived. Like Old City, with its historic designations and cobblestone streets. This area, however, was a downtrodden, high crime part of town. The small neighborhood surrounding the hotel held more street corner dealers and supernatural creatures than tourists or business people.
“Bloody hell, this is a blighted rookery.” Regge scanned the empty streets.
Used to his idioms by now, I didn’t miss a beat. “Agreed. Whatever you said. It feels even creepier now that the hotel is closed. I’ll park in the alley.”
Regge waited by the front of the car as I got out. “Do you sense anything?”
“You mean a vision?” I stopped and closed my eyes, sending out my feelers, as I called it. Clairvoyance was not an exact science, and it didn’t always work, but practice helped.
I wouldn’t be able to see either of our near futures, because besides myself, Regge was the only one I hadn’t seemed to conjure a vision for.
Often seeing complete strangers if they were close by, I’d trained myself to focus mostly on those people I knew—my inner circle. Nothing came through. We rounded the corner and looked up at the ramshackle building.
The hotel was built in the early nineteen hundreds when the town was filled with flappers and speakeasys. Back in those days, Fulbright’s four stories and old gaslights were the epitome of high tech and glamour. Now the brickwork was failing, the paint peeling, and the entire facade needed a facelift. Somehow it had escaped demolition, even as other buildings around it were torn down and rebuilt over the years.
