I pulled him to me. “Thanks for putting that in my head. Because I look ridiculous in bow ties.”
He tucked the sleeping bag around us and snuggled into my chest, giving a soft puff of air into my collarbone.
“It will be fine, HB. Everything will be fine.”
I fell into the best sleep I’d had in a while.
Chapter Twelve
Regge finds out what he gets for helping ghosts
The evening after the camping trip, we returned to the hotel. We’d intended to deliver the items for the severance ritual to Nigel and leave, but Hunter had a feeling we needed to be there. By this time, I had learned to trust his instincts.
“The sisters gave me some instructions to set up some wards.” Hunter pulled out his phone to peruse his texts. “Just some basic sigils against outside violence or intention. Kind of what they did for the bar.”
“Good idea. I’ll check in with Nigel.” I hesitated. “Unless you need help?”
Hunter, intent on his work, was chalking a sigil on the front wall. He looked up, his eyes warm and affectionate. “I’m good. I’m also going to give Cobb a ring, just to fill him in.”
Pery, the wolf watching the place, said he and two others would be back at ten this evening to take over. I heard the side door slam behind him and headed for the front desk. Evening had cast a widow’s veil of gloom over the lobby as Nigel shimmered into view, his usual welcome severely subdued.
“Nigel, are you okay?”
“I’m sad to be losing this vessel.” He fiddled with his ever-present tie. “I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it. Though I will loathe to become a cup or pen or ink blotter.” He shuddered.
At his words, I was immediately reminiscent of an animated film about talking cups and pots and lamps. No. I could not imagine Nigel as an ink blotter. Whatever that was. “It is better than not being here at all, correct?”
“True. But I find this body to be quite pleasing. Quite handsome, in fact.”
Hunter came up to the desk, quirking an eyebrow at Nigel’s comment. “We should get started. Is Master Anu ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he made for the stairs.
Nigel was not giving up so easily. “Do you not agree with me, Mr. Hunter? Is this vessel not a thing of beauty. Handsome?”
Hunter stopped his stride across the room and looked at Nigel. “Everyone has a different idea of handsome, or beauty if you will. Beauty can be in the sunlight through the early-morning glass, or a pretty cloud, so my opinion doesn’t say much.” He continued his trek to the stairs, but on the first step, he stopped and said, “I like you, Nigel. And you are an excellent night clerk. Perfect for this hotel. But you and I are average-looking at best. Look at Regge. He is handsome.” He headed up the stairs.
I wanted to stop him. Tease him or thank him or something. But I was speechless. I glanced at Nigel’s brow arching as he inspected me. He sniffed.
“Well, shall we go and get rid of this average-looking body then?”
He popped out of existence. On the third floor, I fell into step with Hunter.
“I think you hurt his feelings.”
Hunter shrugged, his fingers brushing my hand. “I was telling the truth.”
“You are not average-looking. I find you—”
Nigel wafted into view through a wall. “There’s more room in here.” He guided us to the blasted area of the damaged rooms. The debris had been cleared away, leaving a fairly large open space in the center.
Anu seemed to feel better today—his dark eyes alert and watchful, his movements lighter. Hunter commented on the empty IV bag attached to a curtain rod, its tubing hanging uselessly on the floor. “Ziggy came prepared as always.” He looked at me but lifted his chin at Anu.
“She said there was not much she could do. That he needs a hospital, but even then, it’s…” My voice dropped, not wanting Nigel to hear.
“He looks spry enough today.”
Nigel turned from Anu.
“Master says the strongest energy is here. Did you bring everything?”
