“Dude, we’re helping you,” I whisper shouted.
The old guy scowled but said nothing as we ran up to the abandoned front desk.
“Where is our ghost?” Regge asked, stifling a curse when the bow tie clerk shimmered into existence.
“How may I be of service?”
“Is there another way out of here?” I asked, ignoring the old man’s babbling.
The clerk waved a hand toward the back. “We have a lovely terrace for our guests to enjoy.” Hustling everyone there, we closed the door against the night clerk. He merely popped into existence on the terrace with us. Definitely a ghost.
“You cannot take him.” The clerk sounded worried and conversed with the old man.
Thelovely terracewas nothing more than a slab of concrete with cheap lattice surround and three rusting metal tables. Regge inspected the lattice for a way out.
I looked at the desk clerk. “You understand him?”
“Of course.”
“Great. Tell him those guys will kill him if we don’t leave. We will keep him safe, but we have to go.”
Regge had pulled away one lattice panel. “This leads to the alley.” In the distance, sirens sounded. Cops and EMS would be there soon.
“Not again.” The night clerk frowned. “They will disturb our guests.”
I pointed at the ancient man next to us. “This guy is your only guest. Now translate. Please.”
With a huff, the clerk turned to his guest. What started as a simple statement grew into an entire conversation as though they were catching up like long-lost friends.
Regge finally interrupted. “Are we leaving?”
The clerk turned to us. “Master Anu thanks you for your help. But it is not needed. He says the men have left and he will return to his room.”
“What? No.” I sighed, looking at Regge. Regge shrugged as people entered the lobby.
“Guests!” The night clerk shimmered away, leaving the three of us on the terrace.
I turned to the man. “Master Anu? That’s your name? How do you know the men have left?”
Regge stashed the sword behind the latticework and replaced the panel. “Hunter, he doesn’t understand you.”
“Right.”
The entrance door behind us opened and a burly dude in full turnout gear emerged onto the terrace. “You guys okay? We got a call.”
Regge turned all his charm on the EMS guy. “Our apologies, good sir. We thought there was a fire and called for your services.”
The firefighter smirked behind his visor, listening to Regge talk. He was enchanted (most people were) by his accent and old-world manners. Regge continued with his tale—a consummate performer, sounding both scared and innocent.
“We saw the smoke and assumed something was burning, but it was simple plaster dust falling. And miscreants across the way set off fireworks that sounded like gunfire. Our initial assumptions were woefully inaccurate. My sincere apologies.”
I let out a small huff as the firefighter leaned closer. Softly, as though coaxing a kitten from a tree, he asked Regge to show him where we first saw smoke. He was taller than either of us and built like a firetruck himself, with blue eyes shining under his fire helmet. My gut churned at the way the hero looked at Regge.
“Of course,” Regge agreed, guiding the firefighter deeper into the hotel.
After they left me, the clerk popped onto the terrace. Master Anu mumbled and he translated. “My Master wishes to give his sword to, well, not you. The other one. Where is he?”
“He’s getting a date with a good-looking firefighter,” I said. “He’ll be back. Maybe.”
