By the time we were released from the final portion of the tour, I headed straight for my room.
Haunted or not, I didn’t care. I was done.
Inside, without calling my sister to give her an update, I showered, changed into a tank top and shorts, and crawled into the too-big bed. The room was quiet. Dark.
And somehow, I fell asleep almost instantly.
Unfortunately…
It didn’t last long.
THE HAUNTING OF ROOM 401
I woke up with a start, at first not knowing why, basically blind in the darkened room. But then I heard it again.
It wasn’t even subtle, a heavy but muffled thud that made the wooden bedframe creak slightly beneath me.
I ducked under my covers and froze, straining to hear over the pounding of my heartbeat.
Another thud. I shot out from under the covers and fumbled to switch on the lamp beside the bed, and that should have helped. So why were the hairs on my arm still standing up?
I swear, the closet door had been firmly shut when I’d climbed into bed.
It gaped open now.
Another thump, followed by a…moan? That was it—I was done.
I flew out of bed, my bare feet landing on the carpet as I swiped up my jacket. It wasn’t much of a defense against…whatever this was, but it felt better than nothing. Tugging it on over my shortie PJs, I grabbed my room key from the bedside table and bolted for the door. I paused, pressing my ear against it, listening for any movement in the hallway. When I heard nothing, I slowly turned the handle and peered outside.
Seeing the hallway empty, my breaths slowed, but just a little. Tarnished sconces illuminated the space, but there were also shadows…ghostly ones.
Because, of course, the shadows would be ghostly in the Stanley Hotel.
And even though I’d only met Babs this morning, we’d bonded, hadn’t we? So I wasn’t too proud to wake her up tonight. Room 405 was just around the corner.
It would be fine. As long as Morty hadn’t shown up for a visit.
With the key in one hand and clutching my jacket closed with the other, I stepped out. The door clicked shut behind me, and I suddenly felt even more exposed.
I let out a shaky breath.
Steering clear of the room beside mine, Room 403—the one that shared a wall with the back of my closet, where the sounds could have been coming from—I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door swung open.
And then nearly fainted in relief. Not a ghost. Just Noah Grady.
Even in my terrified state, I wasn’t immune to him.
He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair rumpled, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
But I wasn’t in the mood to ogle him.
Well. Maybe just a little.
“You heard it too?” I whispered. In that moment, I didn’t care about the little showdown we’d entered during the tour. He was flesh and blood human. Which meant I was safe from any unworldly entities frolicking around this hotel… for a few minutes, anyhow.
Noah’s gaze flicked toward me, though he didn’t quite meet my eyes. There was a hazy sort of energy about him, as if he wasn’t completely here with me—probably still half asleep—but when he replied, his tone was perfectly casual. “Heard what?”
“The…” I trailed off, searching his face for some sign of understanding.
