Part of her role here was to help the vampiric staff learn the latest lingo. The primary goal of The Grand was to hide among the sheep and was a challenge when everyone sounded as though they were embalmed prior to the reign of Queen Victoria.
Cecil smirked and passed on the menu. It generally varied little, but that would change once the guests rolled in.
“Coming right up,” Cecil said.
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“I’m hesitant to ask why,” Evelyn said while flashing a smile.
“Let’s say some of the dearly departed from a massacre fifty years ago have been making rounds.”
“Vraiment?” Evelyn said. (Really?) “I gather they aren’t the most sociable?”
“I think the three dead workers we found would agree with that… So, what will it be tonight?” Cecil asked.
“Let’s start with some giggle water, while I peek at the bill of fare,” Evelyn said.
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Again the man smiled, but she had seen warmer mugshots from hardened criminals. At least he’s trying.
“Avoid the east wing for the next week or so,” Cecil said.
Evelyn was slowly making her way through The Grand decorating rooms as inspiration struck. Occasionally there were mechanical issues affecting the lighting and ventilation, but those rarely hindered her progress.
“I’m hesitant to ask why,” Evelyn said while flashing a smile.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
He looked as though he had never seen the light of day which was most likely true for a vampire. His hair was always greasy, a trait that was nearly unheard of for their kind.
That explained why the few people there were spread throughout. They went to the bar as needed for a refill or to make an order. Otherwise they avoided mingling with Cecil… especially as the word spreads of his true role around the hotel.
Evelyn had a differing opinion on the situation. The man may have looked like a dime store undertaker, but he also knew what was going on.
“Bonsoir,” Evelyn said as she sat at a stool near the man.
“Good evening,” Cecil said.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
The lounge was nearly empty, and that was to be expected. Very few of the human staff needed to run this massive hotel had been hired.
At the bar she spotted a man in a black and white uniform. Despite the smile most people were wary of him. This was Cecil, the hotel’s fixer who often worked in the shadows to ensure everything ran smoothly.
He looked as though he had never seen the light of day which was most likely true for a vampire. His hair was always greasy, a trait that was nearly unheard of for their kind.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
The notable exception was a piano bar and lounge located right above the kitchens. This was open because the human staff and guests needed a place to eat. The Grand would never stoop so low as to have a cafeteria and mess hall.
For the most part the lounge was nearly complete. The wooden bar along the far wall, but selection was sorely lacking. Then there was the raised stage occupying the middle of this space with a concert level Grand piano. A shame that they haven’t hired a pianist or even a singer.
Nevertheless music hung in the air, giving the space some well deserved life. Evelyn made the recommendation early on to use a phonograph in the interim to make this place more welcoming.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
Evelyn walked the marble circular staircase leading to Grand Hall. The main reception area was still in tatters. The collection of windows providing guests a view of the valley below was a collection of welded steel, wood covers, and tarps. At least it keeps the wind and rain out.
The front desk was missing entirely, in its place there was a large shipping crate. Since the hotel was not officially open, there was nothing else. but a phone in case someone needed assistance.
On either side of her were the east and west wings. Most of it was made up of tarps, scaffolding as the clubs, lounges, and restaurants were still at the design stage.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
The flames from the flare and its need to breathe only served to power the chemical reaction. The pain must have been intense as it actually tried to claw its own throat to expel the flare. However the intense heat and flame eventually forced the werewolf to its knees and it fell face first into the ground.
When everything settled, Marc realised that the shooting had stopped entirely. In the distance there came a mass of footsteps approaching which meant he might be discovered. Intent on making sure his men saw no hide or tail of him. Marc used his sabre to free the creature of its head.
The thing was positively huge, and an excellent trophy. The man of war was not interested in hanging this creature’s head on his mantle back home. Besides, it was rumoured that werewolves reverted to their human form once the moon set. Still, he had an idea and wanted to send a message to dissuade further incursions across his lines.
“Besides,” Marc whispered. “It’ll give me something to write about…”
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He willed himself to stem the bleeding at his back, and charged the creature once more. Not to be outdone the werewolf did the same, looking more determined than ever to come out on top.
This time Marc waited until the creature lunged at him before reacting. He took aim, and fired the flare gun at that gaping maw. The illumination flare shot out and very nearly went straight down the werewolf’s throat.
What appeared to be a certain death moments ago, had changed in his favour. The werewolf immediately reached for its throat as though choking. Marc managed to slide under the creature, and did not come to a stop before regaining his footing to distance himself from the beast.
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To prevent another attack, Marc used up more of his blood to distance himself. By the time he slowed Marc was fifty-three paces away, staring down the creature with a bloodied paw. He could see it had trouble standing, but that was not enough to end it.
“I wonder if it learned a lesson…”
That long and angry howl certainly confirmed that it had not. Although Marc supposed that he should be thankful there were no replies.
He holstered his pistol and pulled out another. At this point, he knew that more exchanges like that would end up with him a chew toy. Time to take a page from Murphy’s playbook.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.