Quadruple Duty

“In the fall and winter,” Xiomara continued, “activity ramps up. Sightings are more corporeal. More significant. It’s worst in the weeks leading up to the holidays. And it ends—”

“Right after the solstice,” Kara chimed in.

Xiomara nodded. “Exactly.” A hint of jasmine-scented oil came with the movement. “On the nose.”

Logan scratched at his chin, and Kara risked a glance. His stubble had gone slightly grey in places — a sprinkle of salt in the pepper of his beard. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“What about after the solstice?”

“Nothing,” said Xiomara. “The place goes silent for months. Activity is negligible until summer.”

Kara grumbled. “So we don’t have much time.”

“No,” the Head of the Order agreed. “Especially not for any of your schoolgirl bullshit.”

She closed the file and leaned back. Opening a drawer, Xiomara drew forth a wafer of something small and thin. She unwrapped it slowly as they looked on, then popped it into her mouth.

“It’s chocolate,” she explained, as they stared on expectantly. “Just another one of my indulgences.” She glanced specifically at Kara as if to say ‘piss off’.

“So that’s it?” Logan asked. “We head up there to… document? Investigate?”

“You’re there to find out what the fuck is going on,” Xiomara barked. “And tell us why it all happens now, this week, right before the winter solstice.” She turned to face Kara. “You’re the Order’s premiere clairvoyant. You should be able to discern something of the hotel’s past. Why it’s like this, what made it this way. I don’t care if you have to talk to the fucking bricks! I want answers.”

Kara nodded dutifully. “And him?” she asked, jerking a thumb at Logan. “Why am I stuck with the burden of this—”

“He’s our best precognitive medium,” Xiomara cut in. “He’s there to keep you out of trouble. To recognize where and when you’ve pushed too far.”

The old woman’s expression went suddenly serious. The anger, the defiance, the annoyance… it fell away all at once, like a heavy curtain.

“You both watch out for each other,” Xiomara said evenly. “No bullshit. There are forces at work within the Averoigne you’ll need to treat very carefully. Delicately…” Her voice trailed off in an almost trance-like state. For the first time, Kara and Logan actually looked at each other.

“Here.” Mechanically, Xiomara slid two small stacks of cash across the desk. “Take whatever other resources you require. There’s more if you need it.” Then, in a lower voice: “And the Order’s arranged for additional help, too.”

Kara slipped one of the stacks into a jacket pocket, her face scrunched in confusion. “Additional help?”

“Just go,” said Xiomara. She unwrapped another wafer of chocolate and slid it into her mouth. “I’m tired of you both already.”

Logan stood up from his chair to leave. Kara however, remained seated.

“Listen…”

She decided to take one more shot. This time with sugar and honey, instead of a shotgun.

“You know I work best alone,” she implored Xiomara. “I always have, all throughout my tenure here. And my reputation speaks for itself.”

The old woman stared back at her impassively. Maybe she was savoring the chocolate. Tasting it. Allowing the tiny wafer to melt on her tongue.

“Give me this assignment,” demanded Kara. She jerked her head toward Logan. “And send him elsewhere.” She lowered her voice without knowing why. “Surely you don’t need the both of—”

Xiomara’s eyes flared. Her mouth twisted into the same expression Kara imagined she’d have if she’d just bit down on a lemon.

“GO!”

Three

Kara was nine when it first happened. Or at least, the first time she remembered it happening.

She’d been at her grandmother’s. Sitting in the old house, the one her great-grandfather had