Chapter Sixteen

Yes, Miss Ruby," the manager said, waving his hands at the power outage. "The hotel is not with power. Most of the guests are with your convention. To be telling them we will open the restaurant and bar for occupancy. We have heat to heat those rooms, but all other rooms will be no heat."

"This is insane," Ruby said, tearing her hair then stopping and trying to be composed. "I'll start circulating the word, but it will take time to even get the staff up to speed. When are you opening the dining room?"

"Now," the manager said, waving his hands. "Is open! But should bring blankets, pillows. Is no maid service, none come to work today."

"I keep saying we need to move this thing to summer," Ruby muttered, darkly.

When she was gone the manager went back behind the reception desk, where angry guests were already lining up, and into his office.

"Is done," he said, shaking his head. "My cousin is cutting power to all the wings. Is only power here in the lobby and in restaurant and bar."

"Open the bar," Greg said, the shook his head. "Not free but open the bar. That will give them even more reason to stick around. But we need to get people centered in one area."

"Then, we hunt," Barbara said, standing up and walking out the side door.

She stopped when she was out in the snow and looked up at the sky. The snow was just barely coming down, now, but it was thick and deep in every direction, mounded up in drifts along the north sides of the buildings. They'd be lucky if they could get out of here in a week.

"What are you doing?" Janea coming through the door behind her. "It's freezing out here!"

"Thinking," Barb said. "Why hasn't he struck again?"

"I dunno," Janea admitted. "He might be resting after the kill, sometimes that's necessary depending upon the spell. Or he might be communicating with his demon."

"We'd feel that," Barbara pointed out. "Wouldn't we?"

"Not if he's using a circle," Janea said. "And within it, which I wouldn't do with a demon. But I don't know how he's dedicated himself. We don't even know where he found the spell to build this much power. Usually with necromancy, you lose most of the power. There's a rush that you can use, but then it fades. From that stone, he's found a way to store it."

"What's he going to use it for?" Barb asked, frowning into the distance.

"A major summoning," Janea said, shivering from more than the cold. "A really big one."

"How many souls?" Barbara asked, sadly.

"Lots," Janea said. "If it's Tiamat, lots and lots. And after that . . ."

"All hell breaks lose," Barb said, softly.

"You have to get me out of here," the man said, turning away from the image of the demon.

"You will escape, that is our bargain," the demon rasped. The sound was like the buzzing of wasps. "And you will live. If it is in my power to support you. But you must act. Now."

"There is no way I can do this and not go to prison," the man snarled, angrily. "There's evidence you stupid beast!"

"It can be changed," the demon responded. "It has taken me time to research the new skills of this world. But it can be changed. Another will be made to be the killer. You will be one of the survivors. And you will be famous which will make your sales even higher."

"Myself and my friend," the man said.

"No, only yourself," the demon snarled. "The other will be a binding. I guarantee your survival but only if your . . . friend is gone. That is a liability. End the liability."

"Agreed," the man sighed after a moment's hard thought.

"And a few will survive, besides," the demon mused. "And the one who will be chosen to go to prison in your place. The minds of the humans will be changed, computers will be changed, paper will be changed. With the power that you will gather, there is nothing that cannot be done. My mother will return."

"Your binding holds, even upon her," the man said. "I wrote it well; being a lawyer has it's uses. There is no escape. You must keep me alive and make my sales the greatest in the world. Or I am freed."

"It was agreed," the demon said. "But now is the time to act. They are gathered for the slaughter. But you must get more power. At least twenty must die before you can do battle with the White God's witch. The other is of no consequence; her goddess is weak."

"What about guns?" the man asked.

"They are of no consequence, either," the demon promised. "I have examined them as well. Simple alchemical properties, easily tampered with. But the White God's witch is strong. She is your only true enemy. All others will fall before us and then . . . My Mother will be manifest on Earth!"

"Come on, folks, let's pack up the food and booze," Leo said, lifting up a case of home made beer. "If we're going to be stuck in the restaurant we might as well have fun."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to handle being around all those people for . . . how long?" Sadie asked, picking up a case of chips.

"We can wander out," Don said, picking up a laptop and a bottle of Glenlivet. "To smoke at least. But it's going to be cold, lass. Best bring as much cold weather gear as we can gather."

"We'll do the S-starship Troopers th-thing," Baron stuttered. "All p-pile up for heat."

"In your dreams, Baron," Sadie responded, sticking out her tongue.

"Go down the south hallway. When you get to the third floor, just pull the vest out of the bag. Hold it out for two minutes, then walk down the stairs and back to the room."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"And what are you going to be doing?"

"Being conspicuously present."

"What are you doing here, Baron?" Barbara asked as she passed the entrance to the restaurant.

"I'm on s-staff, now," Baron said. "I'm ch-checking people in and out. Th-there's a list. You sh-should go in, m-ma'am."

"I'm sort of on staff, too," Barb said. "Anybody going out?"

"S-smokers," Baron said, gesturing down the hallway. "And s-some of the guests won't l-leave their r-rooms."

"Okay," Barbara said. "I'll go see if I can round up any strays."

"You're a s-stray, ma'am," Baron pointed out.

"Not hardly," Barb said. "Can I look at your list?"

"I suppose," Baron said, handing over the clipboard.

It had a list of all the congoers and guests with the few "general" guests in the hotel appended to the bottom. She noticed a group of them, third floor end, that she assumed was the "Black Rose" society, whatever that was. Janea still wouldn't explain but she said they weren't the problem. And, demonstrably, they had turned up after the first twinge from the necromancer.

Most of the congoers, guests and dealers were in the restaurant, bar and lobby area according to the list. Some of them had been ticked in and out and she recognized a few names.

"Thanks," she said, handing it back with a wide smile. "Are you going to get relieved some time?"

"Yes, m-ma'am," Baron said. "I'm only really filling in for someone."

"Well, I'm going to go try to pry people out of their rooms," Barbara said. She walked down the hallway to the outside door and looked out. Outside the door were a couple of kids that looked like gamers or Larpers, smoking, and a gaggle of Wharf Rats doing the same. She decided to brave the cold.

"Hi, Barb," Sadie said, her hands shaking as she lifted a cigarette. "S . . . cold!"

"You sound like Baron," Leo said, smiling. "It's not that cold! It was colder at the Inchon Reservoir!"

"But you weren't there, Leo," Duncan chuckled, waving a cigar. "You were barely born."

"Okay, it's colder where I go hunting," Leo said, shrugging deeper into his jacket. "What are you doing out here, Barb?"

"I'm sort of on staff," Barbara said, looking at Duncan. "I'm trying to round up strays."

"Just us out here," Duncan said, shrugging and nodding at her significantly. "And as soon as we hammer a couple of coffin nails we're going back in."

"Okay," Barb said, nodding back. She still was of two minds about whether he was on the list of suspects or not. She firmly believed he wasn't a necromancer, but that strange shield bothered her immensely. "Where's Don?"

"Dunno," Duncan said, shrugging. "I knocked on his door but he didn't answer. Probably sleeping it off. Don't worry, he won't freeze to death; too much antifreeze in his system."

"I'll check on him," she said, frowning at Duncan. He shouldn't be so flippant with what he knew. But maybe he was still thinking it was all a silly game or something.

As she walked back the hallway towards the lobby she saw David Krake talking to Baron earnestly. The former was wearing a long, heavy coat and had snow on his legs.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I can't find Charlotte," Krake replied, tightly. "She's not in her room or in the restaurant. She's not checked in on the list at all."

"Can I suggest that you wait in the restaurant, sir?" Barbara said, politely. "I'm one of the people designated to round up strays. I'll look for her I really will."

"You can suggest all you'd like," Krake replied, tartly. "But I'll find her myself, thank you. She said she was going to be here."

Barbara looked at the list again, making some notes as he walked down the hall towards the smoking area. She also noted that Mandy, Larry and Angie were missing from the con-goers. Norm and Eric had been checked in, although both had been in and out, apparently. She hadn't felt anything from the necromancer, so it was unlikely they'd been killed. But there was something bothering her about the pattern.

"Janea," Barb said, walking a little bit away from the entrance and keying her radio.

"Go," Janea said.

"Go pry the Black Rose out of their rooms, will you?" Barbara asked, politely. "And while you're up there, use the pass key to check 304. Thomas Draxon is missing. See if he's sleeping it off."

"Will do," Janea said. "What are you going to be doing?"

"I'm heading over to the west wing and see if I can find a few more strays," Barb answered. "Greg?"

"Here," the FBI agent said. He'd taken up position in the manager's office. It had exits to the restaurant, the outside and the lobby so he could move in any direction to respond to trouble.

"You got that?"

"Got it," Greg said, unhappily. "Be careful."

"Of course," Barbara said, crossing into the deserted atrium. Perhaps from the rumor of a murder running around, the congoers really were huddling together like sheep. And something bothered her about that as well.

She entered the west wing and started to take the stairs then stopped and pulled out her radio.

"He's here," Barb said. "Somewhere in the west wing. Janea, get those Black Rose people out of there. I don't care how."

She hit the stairs and pounded to the second floor. She could only tell he was somewhere above her and to the west.

There wasn't anyone on the second floor and she could tell he was still above her. But as she ran to the top floor the feeling . . . quit.

She burst out into the third floor corridor and looked to the end but there was nobody there. She did, however, hear the sound of the firedoor closing on the far end.

She'd done that one before so she ducked back into the stairs and ran down to the second floor, darting out and looking to the far end. When nobody came out she headed down to the ground floor.

As she burst from the stairwell, she nearly ran down -Duncan.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, sharply. He was just coming in the door from the atrium so he clearly hadn't been on the top floor.

"I was getting another coat," Duncan said, evenly. "I had a spare in my room."

"You need to get in with the others, sir," Barbara said, definitely. "Our friend is somewhere in this wing."

"Interesting," Duncan said, looking up at the wing. "But you said that he couldn't charm me or whatever."

"I don't know that he isn't you," Barb said, bluntly.

"Well, I do," Duncan replied, nodding at her. "I'm just going to get my coat, then go back. I'm sure I'll be around plenty of witnesses if anyone dies."

"Damnit," she snapped, shaking her head. He went to the -second-floor corridor and, with nothing else to do, she -followed.

"Making sure I'm going where I said I was?" Duncan asked.

"Yes," she replied, tightly.

Duncan stopped at a room and inserted a key, waving for her to enter.

"I'll stay here," Barbara replied, suddenly not sure if she was following him or guarding him.

He emerged a moment later with a couple of flannel shirts, a pair of waterproof pants and a Gortex and fleece jacket.

"There, you see?" he asked. "All I said I was getting. Shall we be getting back?"

"I'll follow you to the atrium," she said. "The necromancer was somewhere in this building."

When he went into the atrium she watched him cross then shook her head.

Not knowing quite what to do she walked to the far end of the first floor and looked out the exit door there. It was supposed to be locked, but it wasn't. The lock had been taped back and there was snow on the floor and footprints outside. Recent footprints, at least since the snow had stopped falling.

She stepped out into the snow, noticing that the light was falling fast, and followed the prints around the building. They appeared at first to enter the building through the back of the kitchens but on the far side of the loading dock there was another set. It looked like more than one person and she broke into a run. She could feel it in her bones, that something wicked this way comes