shoved a key into a dented metal door and flung it open. A blast of stale air from the darkened room hit them in the face.
“King suite,” the inn keep announced. “It’s been hotter ’n whore nooky in July the last few days. You’ll have to run the AC full blast and hope it don’t freeze up.”
Something crunched beneath their boots as they entered the room.
Behind them, the man touched a button. Lights came on, exposing a large bed with a sagging mattress, frayed coverlet, and lumpy pillows. The remainder of the furnishings—a bedside table, a lamp, and a chair—were utilitarian and showed signs of wear. The rug was faded and stained. A peeling brown cube on the floor emitted a soft drone, and a leaky tap trailed rusty stains on the wash basin mounted on the far wall.
Sassy shrank back. “What kind of place is this? There are bugs on the floor.”
“Aw, don’t get your undies in a bunch. Just a few dead roaches and grasshoppers.” The inn keep kicked an insect shell with the toe of his shoe. It flew across the dirty carpet. “Bug man was here last week and sprayed. Guess the maid forgot to vacuum.”
Sassy’s face was reflected in the mirror over the sink. A welter of emotions flitted across her features: disbelief, revulsion, and, finally, resolve.
“It’s not a five-star hotel,” she said, straightening her shoulders, “but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Provider? Grim asked silently.
She refers to a rating system whereby lodgings are ranked according to accommodations, services, and amenities, one-star being the lowest and a five-star a superior rating.
A series of images flashed through Grim’s head, examples of plush, beautifully appointed lodgings that qualified for the superior rating.
On a scale of one to five, the Hannah Inn was a zero.
Grim did not mind for himself. He had slept in mud, rain, and snow in his pursuit of the djegrali, bunked in heated desert sand and steaming jungles. A roof over his head and a dry place to sleep more than sufficed for him.
He would not, however, allow Sassy to stay in this vermin-infested, dreary and depressing, sorry excuse for lodging.
A slim blond man materialized in the room with a spotted dog at his side. Their watery forms solidified.
“Sassy, what are you doing here?” the blond ghost asked. “You can’t stay in this dump.”
The dog barked in agreement.
“I have to stay somewhere,” Sassy said, “and this appears to be it.”
“Now, you’re talking, sister.” The inn keep rubbed his hands together. He seemed oblivious to the haunting. “I’ll bring extra towels and some of them little Camay soaps. Fancy thang like you’ll like ’at.”
The manager oozed out the door.
Grim stepped between Sassy and the apparition. “I am Grimford, a demon hunter and Sassy’s sworn protector. Who are you?”
“Junior Peterson’s the name.”
“You are the shade of Sassy’s father?”
“I am.” The ghost regarded Sassy with something akin to horror. “What in heaven’s name happened to you, child? You look like something the cat drug up.”
“Sassy has had a bit of an adventure,” Grim said, “but all will be well. You have my word. If you would be so good as to give us the directions to your son’s former residence, we will be on our way.”
“I’m not staying at Trey’s.” Sassy stamped her foot. Her curly hair fluttered around her head, and she was glowing again. “I won’t.”
“Trey can show you the way,” Junior said, ignoring Sassy’s sputtering. “Son, think you can go to the house and back without getting lost?”
The mottled canine barked and wheeled around, front quarters vanishing into nothingness.
Tossing Sassy over his shoulder, Grim followed the dog’s wagging tail into the void.
Chapter Seven
For the second time that day, Grim picked Sassy up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The blood rushed to her head. The dingy motel slid out of focus and everything went dark. Ribbons of streaming starlight whirled around her.
Sassy closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. When she opened them again, they were back in the woods. An owl hooted, and a light breeze carried the scents of honeysuckle, pine, and water.
“How dare you,” Sassy said when Grim set her down. “Take me back to the motel.”
“No. The place is a cesspool of vice and carousing. I saw it in the proprietor’s thoughts.”
“I don’t care. I am not staying at Trey’s.”
“Then we have reached an impasse, for you are not staying in that brothel.”
He turned and stalked off without waiting for a response.
Sassy watched the shadows swallow