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  “Blake’s brother. He practically accosted me at Lola’s diner last month. He’s a vampire so apparently he knows these things through the vampire grapevine or something,” I said. “But take it with a grain of salt because that guy did not seem all that trustworthy to me.”

  “Dean Elliot.” She pinched the bridge of his nose. “He used to be a good man. He’s twelve years older than Blake, so when their parent’s died, Dean had to step up and basically raised Blake himself. I hate what’s he become.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “No one knows who turned him. He was twenty-six. I suppose that would technically make him forty-five right now, but he’ll always look like a twenty-six year old. It’s a real shame. There were several vampires living around here at the time, but we never found out who it was.”

  “Let’s say Dean is right about the vampire coming to Wolf Mountain. What’s so bad about that? This place is crawling with supernatural creatures. I’m pretty sure I have a few vampires working at the lodge this winter. What’s one more vampire?”

  She rubbed her palms over her face and hunched over her desk. “Maybe it’s nothing,” she said. “In fact, I hope it’s nothing. But I think you’ve heard the rumors about a supernatural prison located under the lodge. There are all kinds of creatures down there—many of them vampires. I don’t know the details, but Martha was the last witch to cast a sealing spell on that prison.” She shrugged. “Perhaps this vampire heard about Martha’s death and is hoping that the seal has been lifted.”

  “Has it?” I tugged at a strand of my long blonde hair. “Do I need to be doing some kind of spell on it to keep this secret supernatural prison locked up.”

  “No,” Angie said firmly. “No, Martha assured me that the magic she cast was powerful enough to last indefinitely. I don’t know the details, but she drew from other sources of energy, not her own personal energy. Her death won’t weaken the spell one bit.”

  “I hope you’re right. Because, in addition to this vampire threat, we’ve got a reporter from a national magazine flying down today. The last thing I want is a bunch of angry, criminal supernatural creatures on the loose.”

  “Do yourself a favor and don’t waste your time worrying about hypotheticals. We’ve learned to deal with all the supernatural threats that have come our way, and we’re going to keep doing it.”

  “I know,” I said. “I just wish you hadn’t told me that.”

  Angie carefully took the pouch of powder and opened up the drawstring top. “If you’re serious about that we can test out the memory powder now.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I guess I would rather know.”

  “You sure?” Angie dipped her hand into the canvas pouch and lifted out a handful of silvery powder. “Honestly, I wish I didn’t know half the stuff I knew about this place.”

  I shook my head again, then paused. “Do you think it’s ethical to use that stuff?” I asked. “Lola’s walking around thinking Liam dumped her totally out of the blue. She has no idea that she saw him as a werewolf that one morning.”

  “What difference does it make? She’d be upset either way, and her knowing wouldn’t change the fact that he’s a werewolf.”

  I dropped into the chair with a sigh. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

  Angie shook her head. “Trust me. I’ve been living on Wolf Mountain all my life. Some people can handle the truth—people like Blake or Ida Honeycutt. Others don’t want to know—you can see it in their eyes. They want to live their lives believing that monsters are the stuff of movies and fairy tales. Memory dust allows them to keep their worldview intact. Who am I to burst their bubble?”

  “But is that really your call?”

  “It’s my job to make the hard calls in order to protect people,” she said. “And sooner or later, you’ll find yourself making those hard calls as well. Our job is to keep everyone safe—whatever it takes.”

  I picked at a loose thread on my cream fisherman’s sweater. “Can you promise me something?”

  Angie tipped her palm so all the dust tumbled back into the pouch. “Depends.”

  “Don’t ever use that stuff on me unless I specifically ask you to,” I said. “I’d rather know.”

  “If that’s what you want, then sure.” She nodded once. “And in that case, here’s the list of Wolf Mountain residents and their alleged supernatural statuses.” She slid a manila folder over to me. “Be careful with that. I think there are a lot of monsters on this mountain who would prefer us not knowing about their presence.”

  “Thank you.” I tucked the folder into my messenger bag and slung the strap over my shoulder. “Are you coming to the Christmas party tonight?”

  She smiled. “I’ll be there. I have to pick up my little guy from the lodge child care anyway around that time.”

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on Benjamin. He’s gotten so lazy now that the weather’s cold.” I went over by the fireplace where Benjamin was sleeping and nudged him with my foot. “Wake up, Buddy. We’ve got lots to do.”

  Benjamin stirred and carelessly rolled on to his side. “Must we? I’m catching up on my beauty sleep.”

  I rolled my eyes. Benjamin was a smelly, beefy Rottweiler who became my familiar after my aunt had died. We had sort of a love/hate relationship. I was the only person who could understand Benjamin and that was a good thing considering that most of the things Benjamin said were just plain rude. “Come on. Don’t be such a prima donna, Benjamin.”

  “I’m not the one walking around the Carolina backwoods in four hundred dollar boots.”

  And that was exactly was I was talking about. “Just get in the truck, Benjamin.”

  3

  I carefully picked my way up the stairs into the lodge. The temperature was dropping by the minute, and a thin layer of ice had formed on the wooden steps leading up to the rustic cabin-like structure.

  “Remind me to have someone salt these steps before we open this side of the building to the public tonight,” I said to Benjamin, mostly for my own benefit.

  “We might all get sucked dry by a vicious vampire, but a least no one will turn an ankle.”

  “At least this is a problem I can solve.” I paused at the front door and held my ring of keys in my open palm. I closed my eyes, visualizing the correct key floating into the lock and turning until it clicked into place. The last time I’d tried this, I’d nearly electrocuted myself, but today, as I opened my eyes, the door swung open with a gentle creak. “Tell me that’s not cool,” I said, cocking my eyebrow at my familiar.

  “I’m regretting ever teaching you that spell.” He trotted into the lodge, his meaty behind swaying with every step.

  I breathed in—the air smelled like pine trees and burning wood. “I’ve learned some other tricks, too,” I said, checking the time on my cell phone. I had a few more hours before the employee Christmas party. That was more than enough time to properly deck the proverbial halls. Since this area was closed off to guests because of the party, I felt comfortable trying out my magic.

  “Have you ever seen a witch do this?” I pointed to a box of twinkle lights in on of the cardboard boxes. A thin thread of golden light shot out of my index finger and landed in the center of the box.

  “I have not seen a witch do that.” Benjamin sat down on the worn wooden floor. “But I’ve definitely seen Spiderman do that.”

  “Wait for it,” I said, squinting at the box of lights.

  Slowly, one end of the twinkle lights rose up out of the box like a dancing cobra. With a twitch of my wrist, it flew up to the ceiling and began weaving between the rafters.

  “That’s slightly more impressive,” Benjamin remarked.

  I grinned. “Now watch this.” I pointed my finger at each of the other cardboard boxes overflowing with decorations. I whispered an incantation.

  “Colored bulbs of red and green,

  Hang yourself where you’ll be seen.

  Stand up, pine tree, over t
here,

  Deck the halls, so all will stare.

  Warming fire shed some light,

  We decorate the lodge tonight.”

  All around me sparkly strands of garland and cheerful ornaments darted through the air.

  At first, it startled me. I hadn’t expected my spell to work so quickly. It reminded me of when I was little and would sprint into a big group of seagulls just to see them fly away in all different directions.

  I got down on my knees neck to Benjamin and covered the back of my head with my hands. Soon enough, all the decorations would fall into place like glitter in a snow globe.

  “I take it you came up with the rhyme?” Benjamin said, ducking as a wooden nutcracker shot past him.

  “I’ll admit it’s not Shakespeare, but it got the job done, didn’t it? Look how fast we’re getting the decorations up!”

  “Sure, as long as no one gets skewered with a candy cane.”

  He had a point. These decorations were flying around fast. But there was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of being right. “Just pretend we’re playing a game of dodgeball,” I said, and soon as it said, it I had to dive out of the path of a very pointy star.

  This went on for a few more minutes until all the boxes were empty, and every inch of the lodge looked like the palace of the sugar plum fairy.

  And then, all at once, the lights went out.

  “That would be the fuse blowing from your three hundred strings of lights,” Benjamin said dryly.

  I groaned. “I don’t even know where the fuse box is. Seriously, how am going to impress Mr. Perry Lee Phillips Fancy Pants if I can’t even keep the power on.” I crawled out from under the table that Benjamin and I had taken cover under. “We’ve got to get this fixed. What if this happens when we have people on the ski lifts?”

  “Natalie, wait. It’s not a fuse.” Benjamin’s nails clicked against the wood floor as he scrambled to get in front of me.

  I could tell by Benjamin’s drastic change in tone that he wasn’t playing around anymore. “What is it?” I whispered.

  Benjamin took three big steps into the center of the room, his mouth peeled back to display two rows of sharp glinting teeth. His growl intensified into a snarl as I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner.

  “Over there,” I whispered, and an instant later, the shadowy figure darted to the other corner, moving so fast that I only saw a dark blur. “What is it?”

  “Vampire!” Benjamin barked. “Run, Natalie!”

  I stood my ground. “I’m not leaving you.” Adrenaline surged through my veins as my pulse sped up.

  “Get out!” Benjamin whirled his head around, and snapped his teeth at me. “You’re not trained to deal with vampires. You’ll get in the way!”

  This time I obeyed. He had a point—I was still new to all of this supernatural stuff. Sure, I could decorate a ski lodge with magic, but I wasn’t sure how helpful that skill would be right now. I doubted I’d be able to tie a powerful vampire up with twinkle lights.

  I took off toward the front door, pumping my arms as hard as I could. The shadowy figure launched itself across the room, landing right in front of me.

  I saw the vampire’s pale skin as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. It opened its mouth, exposing two pointed fangs.

  I felt numb all over. Desperate, I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my pepper spray key chain that I carried with me on jog. I aimed it at the monster and squirted it right in the face.

  The vampire doubled over, cupping its eyes with its hands. “Hey, Natalie! Seriously? You pepper sprayed me?”

  Wait a second… I knew that voice.

  My mouth dropped open when I recognized my attacker. “Dean Elliot?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Who else would it be? Ouch, that stings. Was that really necessary?” The vampire straightened up and uses his vampire speed to run to wherever the fuse box was and turn back on the lights. He appeared in front of me with an amused look on his face. “Pepper spray.” He gave a low whistle. “Well, that is the last time I pay you a surprise visit.”

  Dean Elliot had dark hair, a pale chiseled face, and electric blue eyes so bright they practically glowed in the dark. He was attractive—magnetic even, but there was also something repulsive about him. He could have been a movie star, but there was no way he’d ever be cast as the hero. There was a darkness about him—a danger.

  I staggered back from the vampire, reaching for Benjamin’s collar. “You stay away from me,” I warned. “I don’t think you’re funny or cute or whatever.” I touched my hair, then smoothed down my sweater, an attempt to regain my composure. “Now I have a lodge to run, so you can either leave, or I’ll make you leave.”

  “Oh, come on, Natalie.” Dean swaggered over to me. “Don’t you think I’m a little cute?” he touched the back his hand to my cheek.

  “Get… away from me,” I spat.

  Benjamin stepped between us, bearing his teeth.

  Dean frowned. “Benny boy, not you, too. I thought we were friends?”

  Benjamin responded with a growl so loud that I felt it vibrate in the floor.

  “Bye, Dean.” I pivoted and hurried out. Benjamin fell into step beside me when Dean didn’t make any moves to follow me.

  “I know who it is,” Dean said. ‘The vampire who is coming for you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, annoyed that I had any reason to communicate further with this insane vampire.

  “This vampire’s name is the Old One. And you’re going to need my help catching it.”

  I paused, not turning around. “What do you care about helping? What’s in it for you?”

  Instantly, Dean was beside me. “None of your business.” His mouth quirked up in a smile.

  I rocked back on my heels. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I don’t want you anywhere near this lodge. Is that clear?”

  “Wow, you are one stubborn witch,” Dean commented. “But I want you to remember this, Natalie Wilder, someone’s going to get hurt at your lodge, and when that happens their blood will be on your hands.” He chuckled. “But—hey, at least the decorations look nice.” “But I want you to remember this, Natalie Wilder, someone’s going to get hurt at your lodge, and when that happens their blood will be on your hands.” He chuckled. “But—hey, at least the decorations look nice.”

  4

  I climbed up onto the small stage—a recent addition to the lodge dining room. I couldn’t help but smile as I took in the view from the front of the room. The clear Christmas lights framed each window, woven together with an evergreen garland. Thick red pillar candles tied with a gold bow stood on each of thirty tables. Springs of mistletoe hung over each doorway.

  I took the microphone off the stand and held my hand up to quiet everyone down. “Welcome to the lodge employee Christmas party!”

  The room erupted with applause. It was a motley crew to say the least. The youngest employee was a sixteen year old local high school student who would run the cash register at the gift shop. The oldest person was a seventy-five year old ski instructor who had worked at the lodge for several decades. Then there were the supernatural beings sprinkled throughout who I had no idea how old they were. I was almost positive some of them had forged identification cards.

  Personally, I’d gotten somewhat better at identifying the shapeshifters, the half-demons, the vampires, the witches and the werewolves. Sometimes I’d notice an odd hue to their eyes. Sometimes I’d shake their hands and see an image flash before my eyes. And, of course, sometimes I was straight-up oblivious.

  I didn’t discriminate. As long as you came to work on time with a good attitude, you were ok by me.

  “I want to thank each and every one of you for joining the team. If you haven’t met me, my name is Natalie. I know for some of you, this is your first year. Raise your hand if you’ve never worked at the lodge before?”

  To my surprise, only about eight or nine people raised their hands.
It made sense though—there weren’t too many employment opportunities on Wolf Mountain. Many people relied on this place to support their families.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. If you have any concerns or comments, feel free to come talk to me. My door is always open. Tonight is all about sampling the wonderful food from our local chef, Frederick Forbes. This is Mr. Forbes’ twenty-seventh season here as head chef, and we are so lucky to have him.” I pointed to the back of the room toward Frederick Forbes, a tall, slender man in his late forties with pale skin, gray eyes, and a curly mustache stiff with gel. He wore his white chef uniform even though this was basically just a practice dinner. Everyone clapped as he gave a curt nod before disappearing through the swinging metal doors that led to the kitchen. I’d only met him a couple times, and I had a suspicion he had supernatural roots. Mostly because I saw his tax paperwork which stated he was over a hundred years old—but there was no way. He had the most flawless skin—almost completely wrinkle-free—and moved with a cat-like grace.

  I motioned to one of the tables near the stage. “I also want to introduce Mr. Perry Lee Phillips who flew all the way from New York to review our little lodge. Thank you for being here, Mr. Phillips.”

  The reporter had on dark jeans, a blue knit polo and look of skepticism on his face.

  Another round of applause rippled through the dining room along with a few whistles.

  “Mr. Phillips will be staying with us until Monday, and we are going to give him the best four days of his life. Cynthia Day is also joining us. She’s an award-winning photographer, and she’ll be getting lots of pretty shots of the lodge, the slopes, and of all of your smiling faces. So tonight, let’s enjoy some good food, good music, and good people.” I carefully put the microphone back on the stand and motioned for the lodge pianist to take his seat and the grand piano. I’d found that piano in the lodge covered with three inches of dust and a crusty old bed sheet.