Sweep of the Heart (Innkeeper Chronicles #5)(94)

She glared at me. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.”

“Five minutes is plenty.”

She marched up the driveway. Marais and I struggled to keep up. We reached the door. I held it open and the two of them went inside.

I had to keep this as professional and impersonal as possible. The more business-like I was, the more it would reassure Donna that there was absolutely nothing between Marais and me. The customary innkeeper tone when meeting new guests was best here: courteous but slightly distant.

Caldenia emerged from the kitchen, still in her beautiful gown. “Here you are. Did you know that smoking meat with Dushegub logs gives the flesh a unique flavor? I just found out. This is very exciting. I couldn’t help but notice you have five on the lawn. They must have done something to warrant a rigorous pruning.”

Donna stared at Caldenia.

“We are not pruning guests to use as fuel for a BBQ,” I said.

“I spoke to Orro, and he’s on board.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“Are you her mother?” Donna demanded.

“Heavens no. I am her guest. Her first guest.”

Her Grace smiled, showing Donna all of her beautiful, pointed teeth. Donna took a small step back.

“No pruning. That’s final. Please follow me.” I started down the hallway to the throne room.

The inn tugged on me, and I opened a door to the Merchant rooms. Cookie popped through it in all of his fluffy cuteness.

“I wish to reserve a dining hall for the fourth week of the next month.”

“Which one?”

“The Ocean one. My grandmother has been watching the selection and she wants to visit. She specifically asked for me to escort her.” His fur fluffed up. He danced around me, unable to contain himself. The lees revered their elders, and Grandmother Nuan Re was Clan Nuan’s most respected elder. To be able to host her was a massive boon.

I smiled at him. “Congratulations, Nuan Couki. What a great honor!”

“I know.” His eyes sparkled. “May I have the dining hall?”

“Of course. Please let Orro know your preferences.”

“Splendid!”

He dashed ahead of us. I opened the doors ahead, and he streaked into the throne room heading for the kitchen.

“What the fuck is going on?” Donna whispered to her husband.

“A lot,” he said. “It’s not usually this busy.”

“Is this a movie? Hector, was that a little kid in a costume? Who’s the scary old lady?”

We entered the throne room. It took Donna a couple of seconds to realize that the massive room could never have fit into the Victorian she saw from the street. Her eyes opened wide. She grabbed Marais’ arm, holding on tight. He patted her fingers gently.

Gertrude Hunt tugged on me. I pulled a thirty-foot screen to the Pit out of the floor. A huge Dushegub waved its branches at me.

“Proposition: return those you took, or we kill you, we break your inn, and we smother your dog creature. Do you want to discuss?”

I flicked my fingers. Wooden branches shot out of the wall, wrapped around the Dushegub, and yanked it into the wall. I pulled it through the inn toward me. The floor split and the murderous tree emerged, wrapped in Gertrude Hunt’s coils.

Donna shied back. “That’s not CGI. Hector, that is not CGI.”

I threw my voice down the hall. “Tony?”

“Yes?” his disembodied voice replied.

“I have one more ornament for the lawn. It’s in the throne room.”

“I knew you would see things my way. On it.”

I turned back to Marais and Donna. “This way, please.”

They followed me into the Ocean Dining Hall. Outside, past the outdoor terrace, the orange sea glittered in the sun. As if on cue, a massive, scaled creature raised its dragon head from the amber waters, snapped its jaws, and dove back down.

I pointed to the nearest table. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Donna froze. “I can smell the ocean.”

“Let’s sit,” Marais told her.

She let him lead her to the table.

Droplet emerged from the kitchen. “Welcome, honored guests.”

Donna just gaped at her.

“Chef wants to know if this is your captain and if your badge is on the line,” Droplet asked Marais.

I had tried to explain the difference between film and reality to Orro, but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. It didn’t help that Sean kept showing him buddy cop movies and calling them “Angry Captain Documentaries.”

“She’s my spouse,” Marais said.

Droplet’s fur stood on end. She ran to the kitchen, calling out, “It’s his wife! Bring all the doughnuts!”

“Brace yourself,” Marais said and yelled, “She likes strawberry!”

“What is all this?” Donna sounded almost desperate. “Who are you?”

“My name is Dina Demille, and this is Gertrude Hunt,” I told her. “We are an inn that caters to a particular kind of traveler. We’re hosting a spousal selection for the head of one of the galactic nations, and we hired your husband as extra security. I apologize if this has caused you concern. Secrecy is paramount to us. Officer Marais has the means to handle any problems he encounters, and he is very good at what he does.”