Kara looked at him through her peripheral vision, not wanting to give him even the satisfaction of a curious glance. There was too much history. Too much bad blood.
“Good to see you too,” he sighed.
She couldn’t help but think back to all those years ago. Logan had charmed her. Seduced her… or at least that’s how she remembered it. The truth however, was harder to pin down. Over time, Kara found herself wondering whether she shouldered more of the responsibility than she originally gave herself credit for. That maybe she were to blame for some of what happened. Even just a little.
Screw that, she thought angrily to herself. You were nineteen. Just a kid.
“Are you done?” Xiomara was asking them. She paused dramatically, and for several tense moments the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. When neither of them answered she took up her chair again. “Good,” she sighed. “Let’s get on to business.”
She opened the folder and pulled out several large photographs of an old hotel. Kara found herself leaning forward… alarmingly close to where Logan happened to be leaning forward as well.
“The hotel Averoigne has a long history of paranormal occurrence, dating all the way back to its construction. Reports from the original time periods are sparse, but in the last half century the owners have been keeping more detailed records.”
Xiomara slid a second file out from within the first. “This list,” she said, “is a compilation of eyewitness accounts and event summaries.”
“That’s a lot,” said Logan.
“A metric fuck-ton,” Xiomara agreed. “And this is after all the bullshit ‘tourist’ sightings were weeded out. All the hotel guest ‘I think I saw something’ nonsense from the drunks, the wishful thinkers, and those Godforsaken ‘ghost hunting’ bloggers.”
Logan thumbed through the file, frustratingly too fast. Photographs and handwritten papers whipped by. Kara fought the urge to rip it from his hand.
“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?
”