Ultimate Supernatural Horror Box Set

Chapter 47

Violet stood by the main lobby entrance, arms folded.

The small crowd pushed against her, shouting as the smoke blinded them. Rhonda had spit out her gum and Jonathan Holmes, the burly, bald member of SSI, tried to shove past her. The only light was from a torch held aloft by one of the guests. She searched for Philippe among the flame-licked faces but didn’t see him.

Maybe her friends in the basement had taken care of him. She had a new maintenance staff, and they would be on call around the clock, forever.

“Remain calm,” Violet shouted.

“Let us the hell out of here,” Jonathan said.

“The door’s jammed,” Violet said.

“The second floor’s caving and the stairs are shot,” said Cody, the young, good-looking SSI guy. He cradled a whimpering old woman in his arms.

Janey? Her heart clutched. No. This place is mine now.

The old woman rolled her face away from Cody’s chest. Violet was relieved. Besides, Janey was too proud to accept help.

The hotel gave a deep shudder, settling on its framework. Outside, shingles tore loose and rained down past the windows. The floor was warm beneath them, the carpet steaming. Some of the people were groggy and bleary-eyed from the carbon monoxide.

Sleep tight, my valued guests. Enjoy your stay.

Jonathan Holmes threw his shoulder against the massive door. He bounced off with a thrunk, cursing, while a couple of people joined Jonathan and put their weight against the door.

“The windows,” someone yelled.

The lobby featured large bay windows set with old-fashioned ripple glass. Like most of the windows, they were painted tight in their casings. The smoke now hung in a solid, roiling sea just beneath the ceiling, and a dim red glow blossomed from the far ends of the halls. The hotel was like a great ship going down, and Violet lifted her chin against those who would abandon it.

“Don’t break anything,” she shouted, knowing they’d ignore her. Few understood the soul of this old place. To them, it was just wood, carpet, and glass.

One guy picked up a settee and hurled it against the window. It bounced away, but the glass cracked. A couple of people had dropped to their hands and knees to dodge the smoke. Even the torchlight did little to penetrate the murk.

“The couch!” Jonathan waved a few people over. Two men joined him and they bent and lifted the furniture to their waists.

“You’ll have to pay for damages,” Violet said, but no one was listening.

If Janey were here, they wouldn’t dare.

She could sense them—she wasn’t exactly sure what they were, only that they’d always been here and they had something to do with Janey’s disappearance—hovering around the corners, their laughter mingling with the distant crackle of flames and the cacophony of destruction.

“Heave,” Jonathan commanded, as the three men rocked the sofa backward. On “ho,” they hurled it into the window and the glass exploded. Cool night air poured through the jagged opening and the frantic crowd rushed to escape.

“Women first,” Cody yelled, carrying his injured patient to the window.

Rhonda made a move toward the window, but Violet grabbed her by the back of her blouse.

“Lemme go,” Rhonda said.

“You haven’t punched your time card.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Where’s the cash drawer? At the desk?”

“How should I know?”

Cody passed the injured woman through the window, and she was reluctant to let him go, clinging to his neck with tapered, skeletal fingers. He finally passed her to Jonathan, who was standing outside in the hedges. A man in a toboggan was helping women over the lip of the window, but not everyone was as chivalrous. Violet smirked as a chubby young man in T-shirt and jeans shoved his way through the crowd and clambered out, revealing the fleshy swell of his upper buttocks.

“Kendra?” Cody called, looking around the rapidly thinning crowd. He was just like the rest, calling a woman’s name like she was a possession.

Well, no one is going to possess me.

Now that the curtains were yanked wide, the lobby was filled with moonlight and was almost beautiful. Smoke curled around the piano as if it were on a nightclub stage and some music-school dropout were about to peck “Heart And Soul.”

But the audience was vanishing. Violet grimaced at the thought of guests leaving before they’d checked out. Had they no respect?

Janey would never stand for it.

But Janey’s no longer in charge. Now they’ve made me caretaker. And what am I supposed to do about it?

Good question.

But one thing she knew, there was no sense letting good money go up in flames. She elbowed through the chaos and headed for the office.