Winter Lost

Last of all, there was something about this snowstorm that set all of his senses on edge. It felt malicious.

He needed help or he was going to kill someone.

He stared at his phone. Who did he trust when he was vulnerable? Who could keep people safe if Sherwood lost his battle for control?

He hit a button and put the phone to his ear.

10

Mercy

“Flotsam?” I heard myself say to the fae who’d emerged from the kitchens. I thought I sounded normal, but Adam’s hand moved to rest on the small of my back. “I thought you needed an ocean for us to be flotsam.”

Our host was a green man. I didn’t need the Soul Taker–born curse to feel his magic. It tasted like Uncle Mike’s power.

“Liam is the night manager,” Elyna had said, picking at the ice trying to form on one edge of the hot tub. “He was manning the desk when it became obvious that the roads were becoming too dangerous for travel. He called upper management and told them to keep the staff at home, that he and Emily—with the help of Hugo, a retiree who usually works a couple of days a week as the custodian and gardener—could handle it.” She paused. “Hugo can’t talk above a whisper—throat cancer or something—but he’s a sweetheart. He tends the greenhouse and brings each of the guests flowers every evening.”

As I stared at the smiling Irish fae who had been working as a night manager at a very small in-the-middle-of-renovations lodge in the wilds of Montana, I thought, sixteen people. Seventeen with Jack. All of us trapped on sacred ground by a snowstorm controlled by a frost giant. Seventeen people, and there was a werewolf, a vampire and her necromancy-augmented people, a ghost, and not one, not two, not three, but five fae—goblins count as fae. Also me. The only actual normal humans here might be Emily and Hugo the gardener.

We weren’t flotsam, because flotsam was accidental and random. We had been brought together deliberately. I wondered who had done that and why.

I wondered if I was going to be able to save my brother.

“Perhaps you are right,” said Liam, the desk clerk and night manager, whose power flowed around me like the mist rising from the hot lake had last night. “Not flotsam.”

The green man who was not Uncle Mike made a show of considering his words. He said, “Let us say, then, far travelers who have arrived at our doors, blown in by the north wind. Winter lost.” He spread his hands. “Welcome, guests, to Looking Glass Lodge.” He smiled. “Resort. I meant ‘resort.’ ”

Emily had followed the green man out of the kitchen. She gave an exasperated hiss. “Dramatic much? Don’t mind Liam. He grew up in Ireland.” She said it the same way my mother said “She was raised in a barn” to apologize for one of her more socially inept friends. “And all the signs say Looking Glass Hot Springs.”

I used my senses to check Emily again. Nope, still human.

The green man, Liam, threw the dish towel he’d been holding at her and laughed when she snatched it out of the air.

“You go help Hugo with the dishes, you troublemaker,” he admonished. “There’s not a thing wrong with Ireland—or my manner.”

She grinned and vanished through the doorway again.

“Adam and Mercy Hauptman,” said my husband, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “We came in last night. I took a key and left a note at the front desk.”

“Mr. Hauptman.” Our host shook Adam’s hand and then his eyes widened just a touch. I saw comprehension dawn and he quit meeting Adam’s gaze by briefly looking at me, rather than by dropping his own gaze. A move that did not challenge Adam’s rank—nor admit to a lesser status. People learned those kinds of manners when they hung out around werewolf Alphas. Or when their magic was geared to making their guests feel welcome and comfortable.

“Ah, that Hauptman,” the fae said. “Forgive me for not making the connection. It is an honor to have such guests. I am, for my sins, Liam Fellows—please call me Liam. I have not been to the desk yet this morning, not expecting anyone could make it through the roads. I hope you find our hospitality up to your needs.”

“Sir,” Adam said. When Adam is wary, he gets military. I was pretty sure he couldn’t feel what Liam Fellows was, but he knew that I had been surprised.

He also didn’t accept the role of guest that our would-be host offered. Offered again. Guesting laws are very important to the fae. They’d provide some protections—but also restrict what we could do.