by Krista Walsh
She forced herself to look away only to find Courtney still hadn’t finished speaking. Allegra groaned under her breath.
“As I’ve told some of you, we begin work this morning as soon as you’ve settled into your rooms. I’ve had the wardrobes for the week sent up and unpacked, but you might want to go through them to make sure everything’s in order. We have a lot to get done in the next five days, but if we stick with the schedule, we should be able to squeeze in some time to relax and enjoy the perks of the location.”
“She’s something else, isn’t she?” a soft voice said against Allegra’s ear.
Allegra jumped, not having heard Monique approach. She tilted her chin toward the blond, who stared at her with amusement dancing in her large blue eyes.
“That is one way to describe her,” Allegra agreed, slipping off her sunglasses and tucking them into the neckline of her dress. “Micromanaging harpy would be another.”
Monique smiled at her, her chemically whitened teeth catching the gray-hued morning light, and wrapped her hand around Allegra’s manicured fingers. “Still, there are worse places to be stuck for a few days. Have you had a chance to see your room? The beds are very cozy.”
“I’ve not yet had the pleasure,” Allegra replied.
She ran her gaze over Monique’s figure, wrapped in a white dress that hugged her from knee to throat with a dark blue leather jacket draped over her shoulders. A gold belt rested around her thin hips and a long golden chain draped around her neck to lie over her chest. Her cheeks were pinched, as though she’d lost more weight during her time in rehab. Or perhaps she’d fallen back on her pills.
“Perhaps we can enjoy that pleasure together,” Monique suggested. “It’s been a while since we’ve worked the same shoot.” She released Allegra’s hand to run her fingers along the back of her wrist to the elbow and up to her shoulder.
Allegra’s demon blood sang at her touch. What Monique offered wouldn’t satisfy the craving of her darker side, but it would scratch a different itch. It had been a while since she’d indulged in any mindless pleasure.
At the same time, she recognized the light in Monique’s eyes for what it was – a symptom of growing attachment. Allegra had been clear from the beginning that she had no interest in any kind of commitment, but human beings could be so troublesome about that sort of thing. As though sex were something more than a way to pass the time and refill the lost energy of the day.
Having grown up in a household of succubi and incubi, any delusions of that kind had been weeded out of her by the time she hit puberty. Sex had been taught as a necessary skill for survival. Not to say it was always a simple matter to remain detached. It was in her nature to experience sensuality on a deeper level than any human, and it was easy to be caught up in its decadence. Occasionally — rarely — that experience was so deep, it was impossible not to form a connection, but the results were usually disastrous. Her brother, Antony, was a prime example of that danger. His connection to the warlock Jermaine Hershel had led to a series of stupid decisions and, eventually, to his death. A mistake Allegra had no intention of repeating.
She lived for pleasure, and had no time for such inconveniences as emotions or personal attachments. All they did was tempt the demon inside her to rise from its slumber, and there was nothing she hated more than revealing the ugliness of her hidden nature. Only her victims were permitted that intimacy, and she had no reason for Monique to become one of them.
“By the sound of our esteemed leader, we might not have much time for frivolities before our schedule begins,” Allegra said, hoping to put the idea out of Monique’s head without severing the relationship entirely. “I believe it would be best to wait for a time when we have no need to rush.” She leaned close enough to Monique’s ear that the tickle of her breath caused goosebumps to rise on the other woman’s neck. “When I can make it worthwhile for both of us.”
A shiver ran through Monique and her sharp blue eyes melted into languid pools of lust. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and smirked, offering a quick raise of her eyebrows before she winked and walked toward the front of the crowd. Her hips swayed in a way that suggested she was exaggerating the motion for Allegra’s benefit.
Allegra forced her attention back to Courtney, but the production manager had finally wrapped up her spiel. She was dismissing the group, leaving them free to go inside and get settled.
“Thank the gods,” Allegra muttered, then moved toward the door. She stepped onto the flagstone path only to stop as nausea unexpectedly hit her like a physical blow. At first she believed her demon was fighting to come out, roused by the desire Monique had stirred, but the queasiness churned like oil, slinking up her esophagus, and in the thickness, she tasted a sour, unfamiliar energy. She drew in a slow breath and stared up at the hotel.
From the outside, the Garden Hotel was a breathtaking piece of historical architecture. Its dark gray-and-white stones were rough instead of worn down with age. Clean white shutters lined each of the windows, with flower boxes perched beneath, bright with the blooms of autumn flowers. Dark green vines crept up the front left side of the building, giving the impression that nature held control over the hotel despite its years in human hands.
But beneath the beauty, the awareness of a negative presence kept Allegra from taking another step forward. For a brief second, she debated hailing one of the taxis sitting at the curb and going back to her condo, where she was safe from anything that threatened the elegant simplicity of her life.
As quickly as it came, the nausea ebbed, and she brushed off the urge to flee.
Of course it feels strange. A building as old as this has surely seen its years of tragedy.
Allegra straightened her shoulders and climbed the steps to the smooth oak entrance, shaking off the sensations and focusing on reality. Stained glass windows sat in each of the doors, with earthy reds and blues.
The rest of the team had already disappeared inside, leaving her to pass by Timothy Banks alone where he stood on the front stoop.
“Welcome to the Garden Hotel,” he said, extending his hand in greeting. His smile created dimples in his cheeks, and the tartness of his energy invited Allegra closer. She drew in a slow breath through her nose to sample the taste of him, and her taste buds sang.
He would be a dangerous temptation this week.
“I hope you enjoy your visit,” he said.
“I’m sure I will,” Allegra replied. “It is a beautiful location.”
Tim tilted his head back, and the expression of pride that overwhelmed his features brought out a spark in his blue eyes. “It is indeed. It’s been in the family for the last seventy years. We’re very happy with what the Garden has become.” He shifted his attention back to her. “Do you have everything you need?”
Allegra cast him a coy smile. “I’ll be sure to come to you directly if I find otherwise.”
Tim’s eyes widened, and then he smiled and bowed his head. “Please do.”
He opened the door for her, and Allegra passed into the lobby, where the colors of the stained glass spilled across the interior. She spotted her bags near the reception desk to her left where the driver had dropped them off, but the concierge Courtney had mentioned was nowhere to be seen.
Sunlight shone through the large windows along the front of the hotel, lighting up the salon through the archway to her far left and the sitting room to her right. Ahead of her, beyond the stairs, she heard the clatter of dishes as the current guests finished their breakfast in the dining room. From somewhere in the hotel, she caught a whiff of chlorine, suggesting an indoor pool. There was also the faint odor of stale sweat from the gym and essential oils from the spa.
“Allegra Rossi?”
Allegra turned toward a young man standing to her right, by the foot of the stairs. He appeared to be in his late teens, with thick dark hair that fell over his ears and across his brow, where it was pressed down by his round cap. Both cap and uniform were a striking dark g
reen that brought out the amber flecks in his eyes and the depth of his tan.
“I’m Cody. I’ll be looking after you today.” He offered Allegra a smile that would have curled her toes if she’d been an inexperienced high schooler, and she returned it with a flourish, catching a hint of surprise in his brown eyes.
She chuckled softly and opened her mouth to greet him, but was interrupted by a sharp hiss from the staff door near the dining room.
“Don’t be a fool,” Tim said. His cheeks were flushed red as he loomed over another young concierge, who was standing in the doorway, looking trapped. “If I catch you or any of the others spewing this nonsense, you’ll be out on your ass without a job or references. Is that clear?”
Allegra didn’t wait to listen to the young man’s response.
He likely deserved it, she thought, watching Tim as he curled his lip with disgust and stormed toward the reception desk.
She appreciated a man who was willing to put his foot down. Such dominance suggested he knew what he wanted, and there was nothing she loved more than proving to a man that what he actually wanted was something he had never dreamed of having — something that was worth the price of his soul.
She looked to Cody and found him frowning in Tim’s direction. Apparently he didn’t agree with her assessment of the situation.
“You’re to show me to my room?” she asked, reminding him of her presence.
Cody gave himself a shake, and the same charming smile returned to his handsome features. Courtney had clearly not exaggerated the young man’s interest in the opposite sex, and Allegra guessed he didn’t often experience the pangs of rejection. The golden brown of a fading summer tan highlighted the spatter of freckles along his cheekbones, and his hair caught the honey from the sun as it came through the windows. Despite his age, Allegra wondered whether he wouldn’t be an adequate alternative to Monique. No doubt his stamina would make up for any less-developed skills.
She guessed her expression hadn’t been as guarded as it could have been, because Cody’s cheeks turned pink, and he cleared his throat before saying, “I am. If you’ll follow me.”
He took hold of her bags and started up the steps, and Allegra trailed behind him.
As she reached the third step, the hair rose on the back of her neck, and she glanced over her shoulder, certain that someone was watching her. But the lobby was empty except for the desk clerk at reception, who was deep in conversation with one of the cleaning staff, and although voices drifted to her from the salon, no one stood in the archway.
Allegra narrowed her eyes and tried to ignore the disconcerting sensation. She was comfortable with her exhibitionist personality, but preferred when she was able to see, and therefore control, the voyeur. This hidden watchfulness was invasive.
She looked ahead to find Cody paused at the top of the stairs, smiling at her.
“You already feel it, don’t you?” he asked.
Allegra frowned and continued up the rest of the way. “Feel what?”
His grin widened. “Haven’t you heard the rumors yet?” He leaned in as she approached. “You’d better watch your back when you’re alone in the dark. The Garden Hotel is said to be haunted.”
Laughing, he turned on his heel and carried her luggage down the hallway to her room. As Allegra watched him go, a fever rose in her blood, and a sense of inevitability tightened around her throat. Her thoughts flew back to her physical reaction to the hotel in the courtyard, the overwhelming sense of dread.
She sent one last look over her shoulder and silently swore.
As if she needed one more reason to hate this cursed city.
2
Allegra stood at the end of the bed and surveyed the room. Her critical eye focused on the curtains, catching the cheap quality of the fabric with its soft teal-and-purple paisley design. She could feel the thinness of the carpet under her shoes, worn through by too many other people treading its surface over the years. As though to hide the musty smell of the room’s age, the air carried a hint of sweet potpourri from a small jar in the bathroom. Vanilla and cranberry was her guess.
Despite the room’s faults, though, she had to give credit to the designer. A convenient vanity table with a three-paneled mirror sat to the right of the door, while a slim walnut desk occupied the left, a large television perched on the corner of its glossy surface. In the far left corner sat a wide wardrobe that had ample space for all of her dressing necessities. A king-sized four-poster took up the center of the room, next to a large window that offered a perfect view of the garden. Courtney hadn’t exaggerated when she’d mentioned the view as a feature point. Even so late in the year, the richness of color that bloomed in the maze of flower beds contrasted with the cold blue of the autumn sky. Only a week before, the city had closed down due to the amount of falling snow, and the meteorologists were amazed that the only evidence of the storm was the occasional snowbank lingering in the shade. One could easily believe that summer was hanging on by its brightly painted fingernails, and that autumn was taking its time moving toward winter.
Allegra leaned on the mattress and confirmed Monique’s opinion as to its comfort.
Unfortunately, the Prussian blue bedspread was worn with age. She frowned in disapproval at its nobbled surface. She was used to traveling and staying in all manner of five-star hotels, and she just wasn’t prepared to overlook the flaws here. Anything that didn’t meet her standards earned her disdain. Life was too short to surround oneself with ugly things.
Especially when that ugliness lived inside you.
She shoved away the reminder of the demon pacing the back of her mind and set about inspecting every last detail of the room. Once she was certain there were no unpleasant surprises under the bed or beneath the bathroom sink — which sat across from a deep soaker tub, she was impressed to find — Allegra sat in front of the vanity table and brushed out her thick hair. Her long dark tresses glinted gold in the light from the window to her left as the tines of her brush cut through them, and a hundred strokes later, they flowed like eagles’ wings over her shoulders.
She opened her makeup bags and leaned toward the mirror, removing the eyeliner around her deep brown eyes and the smear of mocha lipstick. Makeup free, she eased into the straight-back chair to admire the smoothness of her honey-hued skin.
Beautiful.
She flashed a smile at her reflection, and specks of gold swirled through her irises. She blinked to clear them, but it was a useless gesture. She closed her eyes instead and focused her mind to center herself on the present.
You are not your demon. Let your brothers and sisters act like animals and make fools of themselves. Let them call you weak and inferior. Twenty years from now, they’ll be dead or locked up in an institution, while you’ll still be attending lavish parties and being adored by the masses.
She repeated the words to herself until her succubus blood settled into the shadows of her mind, then she opened her eyes and surveyed the change. Solid brown irises stared back at her, and the tension around her mouth had eased. Perfect.
Her face clean, she stripped off her skirt and blouse and went to the row of outfits hanging in the wardrobe. Courtney had ensured that each outfit for the week was labeled with the date and time slot it would be needed. While Allegra was quick to give the woman a hard time for her occasional poor judgment, she appreciated that she wasn’t incompetent.
She grabbed the first dress, a cream wraparound, and slid the silk over her shoulders. It was smooth and soft, as decadent as slipping into a bath full of scented oils, and Allegra shivered as it slipped along her spine.
She loved the feel of money on her skin.
After changing her shoes for the ones that matched the dress, she headed downstairs.
***
Katie Triggs’s hand jerked, and a swipe of eye shadow dashed along Allegra’s cheek.
Allegra drew away and scowled. “I could have done a better job than this in my room. Remind me again why I need t
o be subjected to your ineptitude.”
Katie frowned and crossed her arms, creasing the plaid shirt she had rolled to the elbows over her white T-shirt. Her mousy brown hair, struck through with hot pink highlights, was tied up in a short ponytail and her own makeup was flawless.
“Because if you didn’t have me, you’d complain that you had to do something for yourself, heaven forbid,” she said. “Now how about you sit still and let me finish. We’re almost done.”
Allegra glanced in the mirror before closing her eyes. Katie’s brush returned to her eyelid. “Try not to ruin the rest of your work as you finish,” she said, refusing to let the artist have the last word.
Katie huffed, but said nothing. Over the months they had worked together, Allegra had trained her not to bother. Allegra always won.
She knew if she were anyone else, or working for a larger magazine, her behavior would not be accepted, but Grace ranked far below the status she’d earned for herself, and Courtney understood how fortunate they were to have Allegra’s face on their pages. Staff like Katie might resent her presence, but she was a big part of the reason the magazine’s subscriptions had increased over the last four months.
Half an hour later, Allegra slipped a jacket over her shoulders to shield herself against the wind and stepped into the gardens she’d admired from her room.
She walked around a small patch of snow and followed the flower beds to the collection of cameras, crew, and two other models gathered at the far end of the garden. As she reached them, she passed a spray of asters, their purple petals dancing with the wind.
Of all the flowers in the garden, these were the only blossoms to have thrived in the resurgence of good weather.
Allegra ran her hands through the leaves and caught one of the purple blooms between her fingers. As she stroked its smooth surface with her thumb, she felt an uncomfortable warmth rise up in her core even as her limbs went cold. She turned around, again overwhelmed by the feeling that someone was watching her. The oily sensation she’d felt on arriving returned, this time sliding over her arms as though something had taken hold of her. She rubbed her hands over the sleeves of her jacket to shake the feeling off and twisted her neck to search beyond the hedges around the garden.
