Hotel Ruby (22 page)

This is ridiculous. I don't think anyone will care what I'm wearing when I'm trying to—

I stop short, seeing my reflection for the first time. I'm a horror show, bloodier than I realized. There is an arc of bright red blood across my cheek and eye, a smear of it across my forehead. My hair is matted and stiff, and leftover mascara has blackened beneath my eyes.

“Play your part,” Catherine said. Maybe if I do, I can go home. Then again, maybe none of this is even real. I turn toward the door. Maybe they're not real.

I listen at the bathroom door, and although I can hear both Catherine's and Joshua's voices, I can't make out their words. I walk over to the shower and turn the dial as hot as it will go. I'm still barefoot, my sandals lost somewhere in the lobby, but I peel off my shirt and jeans, wincing at how revolting they are. I want Kenneth's blood off of me.

I get under the spray of water and adjust the temperature. I use my nails to pick through my stiffened hair, then shampoo and condition as quickly as possible. When I'm clean, I turn off the faucet, wondering what exactly
Catherine expects me to wear. I climb out of the shower, checking the still-locked door, and then wrap myself in a towel.

I hurry and change into a pair of too-tight jeans and a blouse with strained buttons. Catherine's a bit thinner than humanly possible, I decide, and I quickly use her comb to untangle my hair. When I'm done, I wait, surrounded by the quiet of the bathroom. Once I step outside, I don't know what I'll find. I don't know who I'll find.

“You're getting out of this hotel,” I tell my reflection, and then slip my feet into a pair of heels. I stand there feeling absurd, but if you didn't know me, this outfit might be normal. But I'm not even sure what the hell normal is anymore.

I'm startled by a knock on the door. “Do you mind?” Catherine calls. “I'd like to finish getting ready for the party. Unlike you, I actually try to appeal to the opposite sex.” She laughs, and I walk over to unlock the door and open it. Catherine studies me and then hitches up her eyebrow. “It's an improvement, if you ask me.”

“I didn't ask you,” I say, and push past her back into the room. Joshua nods and agrees with Catherine that I'm definitely improved, and I turn to both of them. “So what am I supposed to do now?” I demand.

Catherine sighs and motions for Joshua to answer me instead. I know she told me to run around and act like nothing's wrong, but I can't do that.

Joshua presses his lips into a sympathetic smile. “You live,” he says simply. “You live, Audrey. The Ruby will do the rest.” He and Catherine exchange a look, and then Catherine strolls into the bathroom.

“Oh, wait,” she says, poking her head back out. “If you see Elias, will you be a dear and tell him I'm looking for him?” I don't respond, still not clear about what I'm supposed to do. Catherine motions to the door. “Run along now. And whatever you do”—she pauses, apologetic and regretful—“stay away from that party.” She tightens her jaw and shuts the bathroom door.

Unable to bear another second with her, I leave the room and let the door slam shut behind me. Now, in the deserted hallway, I stand, afraid and confused. Catherine said Kenneth couldn't hurt me—but do I believe that? I've seen him attack Lourdes, seen how terrified of him everyone is. Would he have already done something to me if he could have? And what does any of this have to do with the thirteenth floor?

I can't stay here and go along—
live,
as Joshua said—knowing this place is honest-to-God haunted. Knowing that Kenneth is in control of my life. And then there's my family. They plan to stay here—do they know already? Did they try to leave and couldn't? But more disturbingly, if they know the truth about this place . . . why won't they tell me? Why won't Daniel?

I get into the guest elevator, scared but determined.
Even at my worst my brother didn't desert me. He stuck with me while our dad evaporated, made sure I held together when I found out we were moving. Until today he was the person I trusted most in the world, the only one who truly understood my grief.

And so I press the button for the sixth floor. Daniel told me he didn't want to fight—well, too bad. Let's have it out. But when it's done, we're getting out of here. We're getting out of here together.

D
aniel doesn't answer his door. My knocks turn to panicked thumps, and I'm not sure if he's ignoring me or truly not here. He wasn't with Catherine, I know that much. He could be with my father. With that thought I walk down a few doors to my father's room and start the banging process all over again.

I've lost track of time. How long since the movie ended, since lunch? How long have we been at this hotel? Time is a blur. I rub my hands roughly over my face and rest against the wall. I've been telling myself for months that I was alone, but now . . . I truly am. And I'm terrified.

I take a moment to pull myself together. I look down at Catherine's clothes and smooth back my hair. My father is probably at dinner, and he plans to be at the party. I have to find them both, and then I'll drag them out of here if I have to.

A plan starts to formulate. I'll ask Daniel if I can talk to him outside with Dad. And then I'll convince them to leave. We came here together; if we try to leave together, we'll be able to. It makes sense. In my scattered and frightened thoughts it makes a little bit of sense.

I walk purposefully back to the elevator, and the doors open like it's been waiting for me. My heart crawls up into my throat and I step inside. When I turn, I see that every button has been pressed already, lit up and every floor a stop. The elevator doors close, and although it's not dark in this space, the air itself seems to dim.

The Ruby will try to stop you.

The bell dings for the next floor. I press myself against the mirrored wall, afraid of who's waiting for the elevator. It feels like an eternity, and I moan out my fear as the doors slide open. No one is there. I bite hard on my lip, scared to peek into the hallway. I wait.
Please, hurry. Please, hurry.
The doors finally close, and I squat down, my legs shaking too badly to stand. It's the same on every floor, and my sanity wavers, until finally the elevator doors slide back at the lobby.

The space is bright and grand in front of me, light glittering from the chandeliers, people happily walking about. I let out a shaky breath and step forward. The scene is one of ease, and I leave the elevator and look around. Is this happening?

My eyes dart to the desk, expecting Kenneth, but he's not there.
Too busy trying to murder his employees,
I think. No one walking around seems even the slightest bit interested in me. But my eyes feel too wide, my skin too cold. My lips are parted, shaking as I breathe erratically. I start toward the ballroom, mentally reciting the different ways I can tell my family that the Ruby is haunted, that it's brainwashing
them, and that we have to leave—that we have to try. It's not going well, even in my head.

I pause when I notice two men in tuxedos standing at the doorway of the ballroom. They weren't there when I sneaked in that first day. Is this added security a new development? Is this because of me?

The men nod their hellos to every person who walks in the door. They're not turning anyone away, but will they let me pass? Just then one of the men lifts his head and meets my eyes, like he's known I've been here the entire time. His expression is stern but not altogether scary. If I hope to pass through, I'll need my invitation. Proper attire. I'm sure I could dredge something up in my room, and then I'll come down and . . .

It's then that I hear it, the soft sounds of piano keys; the song. The same song I've heard over and over since I've been here. I turn and follow the melody, my pulse pounding so fast I'm afraid I'm going to have a heart attack. But the
song
. I feel like I should recognize it, that I need to remember it.

The people begin to fade away as I turn down the empty corridor. I'm no longer scared, I'm determined. I have to find the source of the music, and then maybe I'll figure out what the hell is going on here.

I end up at the door of the billiard room. It's partially ajar, the lights blazing inside, but I'm scared to walk in. What if Kenneth is there? What if he's waiting for me?

“Hello?” a voice calls from inside, as if noticing me linger. I push the door open more to find Elias standing at the leaded window. I sway with relief.
He's okay. Thank God he's okay
. When he sees me, he puts his hand over his heart.

“I called your room,” he says breathlessly. “I've looked everywhere.” His hair has fallen onto his forehead, disheveled, but he's still painfully handsome in his gray suit. He checks me over, and the corner of his mouth tilts slightly. He must recognize Catherine's clothes.

I stare at him, not sure where to start. “Did you hear it?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“Hear what?”

“The music,” I say. “Did you hear the music?”

Elias's face pales and he shakes his head no. “I'm sorry,” he says eventually. “I can't hear it, Audrey.”

“But . . .” I spin around, taking in the room. Looking for a piano or a radio. “I know I heard it coming from in here.” Tears start to blur my vision. “I've been hearing the same song for days,” I tell him. “I thought maybe it would lead me to an answer. Everything is so messed up,” I choke out. “Elias, my brother's gone crazy, my dad's gone sane. I watched you nearly kill someone.” He lowers his eyes, but I go on. “I can't leave the hotel,” I say. “I can't even walk out the goddamn door. I just want to go home. I want my family and I want to go home.”

Elias's expression weakens. “I know,” he murmurs. He takes a step toward me, but nervousness replaces my
initial relief at seeing him. I'm overjoyed that he's okay, but I watched him hit a man—or what I thought was a man—and crush his skull. What else is he capable of? What is his part in all of this?

He pauses when I take a step back from him. “Audrey,” he says, pained. His entire posture sags, and I see that I've wounded him. My chest aches at the thought. Because when I'm with him, I'm not overwhelmed by grief. My heart is somewhere else entirely, and I didn't think that was possible. I didn't think I would ever love anything again.

“I can't stay here,” I whisper. His eyes glass over, and he swallows hard. I'm leaving him—we both know it's going to end that way. “How do I get out?” I ask him.

“The Ruby has to let you go,” he says quietly. “You just have to wait.”

It's not the answer I wanted to hear. “Wait for what?” I ask. “For Kenneth to kill me?”

Elias's eyes flash. “He won't touch you,” he growls. “It's not his place.”

“This makes no sense!” I say, raising my voice. “What? Am I like the others, then?”

Elias stares at me a long moment, taken aback by the question. “How did you . . .” He stops and looks over my outfit again. “Catherine,” he murmurs to himself. Tentatively Elias moves toward me. I don't shrink back this time. “No. You're not exactly like the other ones,” he says. “Except in the fact that Kenneth can't hurt you. Not physically.”

I think about that. There was a moment last night, when I went to the front desk to get an invitation. Kenneth implied there was a cut on my head. I felt the sting, saw the blood. But then it was gone. I remember now. I don't know what it means, but I remember.

“This can't be happening,” I say, still clinging to the notion that there's a rational explanation for all of this. Elias comes to pause in front of me, and I tilt my head to look up at him. His eyes are desperate and lonely. Sad and loving. It's hard for me not to reach for him, and I ball my hands into fists at my sides. I didn't notice, but there's a fire crackling in the hearth across the room. The sound of voices down the hall. We're not alone, but our connection isolates us from everything else.

“I'm sorry,” Elias says. “I . . . we all hoped you'd enjoy your stay and then leave, like the other ones. A fond memory. But I should have told you what Kenneth was, even if I would have ended up locked away like Lourdes.”

“Her suspension,” I say, putting the pieces together. “What happened?”

“The Ruby doesn't reveal herself,” he says. “Or at least she shouldn't. Kenneth has strict rules to keep guests happy, including the others. If you had known what you had walked into”—he lowers his eyes—“you would have made trouble for him. Been disruptive. Lourdes broke the house rules once before. She told Tanya the truth and ended up locked away where we couldn't find her. She was
gone for so long.” He puts his fingers over his lips, holding back. He takes a breath and continues. “Kenneth doesn't have the power to get rid of us,” he says, “but he can punish us. For you I should have taken that chance.”

“Maybe,” I say, even if it's not what he wants to hear. “But I can tell you that I wouldn't want you to suffer, to be locked away.” There's a fine line between self-preservation and protecting the people you care about. Now that we can't change it, I wouldn't have wanted him to sacrifice himself.

“This is my fault,” he says miserably. “I couldn't stay away from you. I dragged you into this.”

“And what if you had stayed away?” I ask. “My family and I would have vacationed for a few days, played tennis, and then gone on our way to Elko? Where does that leave you? Why can't you get out?”

“I belong to the Ruby now,” he says. “But you don't. You still have a chance.”

His words leave no room for argument—he's a prisoner here. I'm no longer scared of Catherine, or Joshua, or even Elias. I'm scared I won't be able to get out of this place. That I'll be trapped in the Ruby forever.