"There's a noise," Alex's friend volunteered helpfully. "Like the buzz from an electrical transformer."
Zoe had noticed it. Now she tried to listen with her nonphysical ears. There were words in the low, hair-raising vibration, but she couldn't make them out. She wished she'd thought to bring her tape recorder. If this sound was an EVP, an electronic voice phenomenon, the tape might pick up details her ears could not.
Since that option was out, Zoe took one last look at the rather interesting materializing pebbles and sank into a lotus position in the doorway. The posture served the same purpose for her as a bell did for Pavlov's salivating dog. Calm fell around her like a blanket of angel down.
"I call on Archangel Michael," she said, the words firm and sure. "Cleanse this room of violence. Heal whatever fear or anger is troubling this being's heart."
The icy hall immediately warmed, enough that sweat broke out on her brow. She smiled just a little. Michael was a warrior angel, a being of fire. One of the surest signs that he was around was things heating up. Encouraged by the quick response, she continued.
"Michael, we thank you for clearing this room of lower energy. Banish any who wish its occupants harm. Love is welcome here, and any spirits who are kind. All others we send back to the field of illusions from whence they came."
"Hey!" said a gruff male voice so close to audible sound that it startled her. "I am NOT an illusion. Or a lower energy. I'm just delivering a message."
"Messages are fine," Zoe told it, "but violent acts are not acceptable."
"Hah! This is an open spirit vortex. Anyone can come here who has the juice. I have as much right to be here as a ghost. I'm—Ack!"
A huge rustling of wings, invisible but somehow glowing, told her Archangel Michael was looming over their visitor. He wasn't fighting him, just pressing against him with all his angelic will. The spirit said ack! again, and Zoe had the distinct impression that it was searching for an opening to wriggle free. Michael wasn't letting it find one, and in less than half a minute, the thing gave up.
"Hold on to your feathers, Mr. Bigstuff," it grumbled ill-naturedly. "I'm going!"
Zoe's ears popped as if they'd been stuffed from landing too quickly on a plane. Without opening her eyes, she knew that whatever had been haunting the room was gone.
When she did open her eyes, the rocks had disappeared as well. "Rats," said Alex's friend. "I was going to take pictures."
Magnus had always liked small hotels. They made him think of tourists and weekend sex, of warm, appreciative women he'd probably never see again. He'd have given a great deal to be staying in this one with Zoe. He couldn't remember what it was like to be completely satisfied, not just physically but in his heart. He wanted to wake up soft for once instead of aching, with a woman he cared about snuggled to his side. Zoe was right about him missing that. She simply didn't realize how much.
Frustration aside, he was glad she'd let him come along tonight. It said that she was warming to the idea of having him in her life in a bigger way. Yes, maybe their sex life was destined to be eccentric, but men and women could have other fun in bed besides intercourse. Magnus knew he had the skill to pleasure her creatively. Conceivably, he could string out unwrapping her "gift" indefinitely.
Right, he thought sarcastically to himself. Zoe wasn't going to put up with him putting her off forever, and she really wasn't going to tolerate him continuing to sleep around. At the time he'd worked the spell that got him out of Fairy, the monthly carnal offering had seemed a small price to pay. Now, he was screwed every which way, except the one he wanted most.
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, glum and aroused at once. He knew he'd better stop dwelling on what he could and couldn't do to Zoe. A full-blown erection wasn't easy for a man his size to hide, and Mrs. Fairfax was already hovering a bit too close. Women her age usually responded to fairy charm with mothering and not flirtation. While Magnus didn't mind his women seasoned, Mrs. Fairfax unnerved him. She was candy-sweet instead of earthy. And her undergarments creaked.
"Oh, Mr. Monroe," she said with the plaintive sigh that was beginning to wear on him. "I do hope Zoe will succeed."
"I'm sure she will, Mrs. Fairfax. She's very good at her job. And you might start a pot of coffee in the meantime. Give your guests something to keep them occupied."
"What a wonderful idea," she gushed, beaming up at him. "It's so comforting to have a levelheaded man around."
Magnus answered her beaming look with a shoulder pat, then sighed in relief when she scurried off. He needed breathing room to tune his radar onto Zoe, to make certain she was safe.
As amped up as her focus was, he found her easily. Another energy curled over hers, blending at the edges in a shimmer of midnight blue. Sensing no threat, Magnus concluded it was one of the beings she called angels. The sheer might of it amazed him, unwavering strength meeting absolute love in a form so huge he wondered that the inn could hold it.
It didn't hold it, of course. No man-made structure could contain a consciousness of that magnitude.
Fascinating, Magnus thought. Angels weren't a force in Fairy, and he'd never thought of studying them, but when in Rome…
Before he could follow this train of thought, his senses picked up something far more familiar and far less nice. The back of his neck crawled with memory. An elemental was at the inn, a bogeyman for fairy children that his mother sometimes used to run her nastier errands. Elementals were only half physical. They could move between realms wherever supernatural occurrences had thinned the veil. They were vicious creatures, with little conscience regarding how they used their power. If Zoe was tangling with one of them, Magnus had no business waiting in this lobby!
He took the steps three at a time, so intent on saving Zoe that he ran straight into her on the second landing.
He caught her before she could fall over, then hugged her tight. "You're all right!"
"Of course I am." She pushed a curl from her face, laughing. "I don't know what was dropping those rocks, but Michael got rid of it just fine."
"Michael?" He narrowed his eyes at the two hastily dressed men coming down the stairs behind her.
"The archangel? Tall? Big, flaming sword?"
"Right," he said, pulling himself together. Humans knew about angels, and human was what he was supposed to be. He could leave his warnings about his mother's evil minions unmentioned. "I'm glad you were successful."