Hotel Hex by Linda Wisdom

his hands encased in white cotton. Easy to assume they were to prevent any skin flakes falling on the guests. As if that mattered any longer. “Do you have any more of those cotton gloves?”
    “Got them out in the lobby.” Zorak shuffled away. When he returned he held out a plastic bag. Jazz reached in and pulled out a pair of gloves, slipping them on.
    “Isn’t your vampire a detective? Why isn’t he down here?” Zorak remained on her heels.
    “This time it’s a girl thing.” She inspected the mantel carved with leering faces that looked as if they came straight from Hades. She kept her fingers to herself. She wasn’t certain if they might bite. “How long do you think Amira will be out of commission?”
    “Hard to say. She sucks up more power with each person.”
    Jazz shook her head. “She couldn’t have gotten too much from Sylvie. The twit didn’t have any real power.”
    “She plans on getting her real boosts from you and the vampire,” he replied. “Then she’ll be back all the way and there won’t be any stopping her.”
    Jazz rolled her eyes. “Oh puleeze. Another one out to end the world? Been there, done that, have the scorched broom. There’s been more than enough of those wanting to end the world, thank you very much. And they’re always stopped. That’s the way it works. Evil tries to move to the top of the heap and good stops them.”
    “Amira’s been around since healthy young slaves were prime transportation,” the zombie pointed out.
    Jazz stopped and turned. “She talked to you about her plans?”
    “Bragged a lot about her life as the most dominant sorceress in the world,” he drawled. “How no one’s magick could ever stand up to hers. Seems that’s how she always stayed the way she is. Except back then no one cared what she did to slaves. When she was driven out of Babylon, she moved to Egypt. Guess she picked up new tricks wherever she went. That woman is a real talker. Especially when it’s about herself.”
    “Although she probably didn’t talk about what can weaken her,” Jazz mused, now eager to leave the room with its macabre corpse.
    “Nope.”
    “And the house. Anything about how she and the house are connected?” She kept a casual tone to keep him talking. “Is there anything else other than her blood infused in the stones?”
    “Just that she’s mighty upset her blood doesn’t have the punch like it used to,” he replied, as he followed Jazz to the library. “Keeping the house and grounds like they are is takin’ more outta her. She will probably go after Mr. Derwood next in hopes he’ll keep her goin’ until she’s ready for you.”
    Jazz thought of the travel writer who was already looking bad. “Then I better figure this out fast.”
    Zorak watched her roam the library with the same care she gave the parlor.
    “You won’t find anything down here,” he told her. “Or even in the kitchen.”
    Jazz mentally gagged at the mention of the room. “Please tell me I don’t have to go into the cellar.” The idea of walking into a dank dark place probably filled with spiders had her mentally itching.
    “All you’d find down there is the furnace and a bunch of old furniture. Everythin’s up in the attic. That Amira likes it up there. No idea why. It hasn’t been cleaned up there in years.”
    “ Attic ?” Her interest perked up. “Nick and I headed up that way our first night. We only saw a nursery and children’s’ bedrooms.”
    He shook his head. “She does some kinda mojo to make it look like that. There’s some special door up there she goes through.” Zorak idly wiggled his finger in his ear. The lobe drifted away.
    “You need to show me that door,” Jazz said, starting to reach for his arm then pulled back. Zombie forensic evidence was something she didn’t care to collect.
    Zorak reared back. “And how will you protect me when you don’t have magick? She’s been working hard to acquire all she needs to be at full