Spellbound

Original Edition: Twenty-Nine

The ladder wobbled under me as I stretched to place the angel on the top of the ten-foot Christmas tree in the lobby. I yelped, grabbing the top branch of the pine and sending several glass ornaments crashing to the wood floor. Even Nat King Cole's Christmas Song couldn't save the mess I was making of the decorations.

A warm hand rested on my back, steadying me on my feet. "Let me before you break your neck."

I looked down and found Soren holding out his hand. He and Archer had gone silent since the Thanksgiving debacle, and I was starting to think they somehow found a way to leave the property. But there he stood in a black corded sweater and slacks like he was mourning the death of Mr. Scrooge.

I took his hand and stepped off the ladder, passing him the decoration. "Thank you," I said, and I gripped the ladder, holding it steady as he climbed and placed the angel at the top of the tree.

He stepped down and brushed his palms together with a satisfied twinkle in his eyes. "That was easy; no need for you to end up in the hospital over it."

"Yeah yeah..." This was the perfect time to talk to him about Hazel. I looked over my shoulder and pointed my thumb at the darkened roon. "The bar is technically closed, but...do you want a drink?"

"Lead the way."

I poured us each a glass of red wine, using the moment to gather my thoughts. Hazel's feelings for him were clearly a touchy subject, and I wanted to broach it with as much class as possible. I sat at the bar next to him and handed him is glass, watching as he took his first measured sip. After a few bigger gulps on my end, I cleared my throat. "I read some more of the tome..."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked nonchalantly, swirling the alcohol in his glass.

I decided to just put it out there, no beating around the bush. "Hazel was in love with you, and you didn't love her in return." When he didn't answer, I took that as confirmation and continued, "Soren, I don't mean to pry into your personal life, but...are you gay?"

In the middle of a sip of wine, he choked and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. "Not that it would matter, but no," his gaze swept over me from bottom to top, "I'm not gay."

Warmth ran through my body, and it had nothing to do with the wine. I didn't want to dwell on it, knowing it would lead me down a slippery slope, one I was not willing to slide and tumble down. But the feeling was harder to rein in. I shifted in my seat and crossed my legs, quelling the throb between them. "Well, Hazel was a catch, so I just thought that maybe, you know...she just wasn't your type."

He set his glass down and folded his hands on the top of the bar. "My affections ran deep for Hazel, but I never looked at her in a romantic way. She was my savior, my confidant, and everything I needed her to be. A lover wasn't what I was looking for during that time of my life."

I took another sip of my wine and before I could stop myself, I asked, "And what about now?" Blood rushed to my cheeks and I shook my head, pushing my hair out of my face and looking at the ceiling in horror. "Oh my God...I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

The question didn't seem to ruffle him, and he answered without much pause. "Now, I'm just coming to terms with my fate. There are many things I'm destined to never have."

He always seemed to radiate such sorrow and regret; I couldn't help but feel like he thought he didn't deserve any better. What could he have done to think so lowly of himself? Hazel clearly found him worthy of her love and I'd found no fault in him...so far.

"You don't think you're destined to have love? Or even...intimacy? I know it doesn't really matter what I think, but...you're wrong," I said, my voice nearly a whisper.

"You don't know the damage I've caused, Gemma. I don't think you can make that call yet."

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe I was just so grateful that he had told me the truth about Archer, but against my better judgment, I stood and moved in front of him. My leg grazed his, igniting that heated feeling in me again. I didn't pull my gaze from him as I said, "You tried to stop your brother from breaking my heart. You gave me the tome that held the answers I needed. I can't speak for whatever you've done in your past, just like no one can judge me for mine. But in this span of time, in my eyes, you deserve anything you desire."

He swirled the rest of the red liquid around the bottom of his glass, watching it dance in circles. When his gaze returned to mine, it was dark with emotion.

"What about you, what do you deserve? A crumbling hotel and two wards that should be able to care for themselves? What are you looking for, Gemma?"

I raised my hand from my side and brushed his fingers with mine. "I'd like to think I deserve to feel...needed. In all the ways a person can be," I whispered, not meeting his eyes this time.

"Well, if anything, you are needed here, more than you know." He swallowed the last of his wine, which seemed to embolden him to squeeze my fingers. "And you deserve so much more than this place can offer you in return."

"We'll see about that," I said, taking the last sip from my glass and smiling at him over the rim. "Will you walk me back to my room?"

He hesitated, his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "Yes."

Taking our glasses, he washed them in the small sink behind the bar and set them to dry before offering me his arm. When he headed for the elevator, I contemplated following him into the small space, but my fear for the death trap got the better of me, and I pulled him toward the staircase.

He laughed and said, "It's perfectly safe. I've only heard of it having a handful of faulty episodes."

I scoffed. "Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"You don't think I could save you if it all went bad? Maybe I have some superhuman powers you don't know about."

I grinned and said, "Oh, I have no doubt you could save me. Superhuman powers or no. I mean, you've already saved me from breaking my neck tonight. Why not from a crashing elevator?" I thought about that for a moment. "Do you have superpowers?"

"Well, if you consider turning into a sprite a superhuman power..." he said with a shrug.

I laughed despite myself, my skin still warm from the wine and his hand on me. "You mean like, a little glowing Tinkerbell?" I teased.

He flashed me a smirk with a cocked eyebrow, and my jaw dropped as an epiphany struck me.

"All those photos people take here at the hotel and swear they capture ghosts...the orbs. Those aren't ghosts. That's you and Archer in your true forms, right?"

He patted my hand where it rested on the crook of his elbow. "If I give away all of my secrets now, how will I keep you entertained for the next sixty or so years?"

The thought of being in the same place for the next sixty years was horrifying.

But isn't that part of what the Reynard was supposed to do? Help me settle my wild, wandering spirit?

If keeping this hotel alive meant finally conquering my fear of commitment, maybe it was a goal I'd be willing to meet.