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In the shower, he still tried to put everything together. Something was bothering him, but the realization that he did not want to continue avoiding the game overwhelmed him. Even when Hendrik delivered his dinner and he ate it, his mind continued to churn.
Drinking the last of his coffee, something came to him. “Damn it all,” he said out loud, slamming the cup down with a rattle on its saucer. He dressed hastily and slipped out the back door again. Hopefully he’d be able to find the mystery woman and talk with her some more. Despite himself, he was looking forward to seeing her again. He was almost sure she wouldn’t actually kill him. Not permanently anyway.
The wind had picked up, sending the snow swirling in the lights on the compound. Hunching against the cold, Nick hurried though the snow to the Icehotel. Although many of the rooms were made of opaque snow, some of the hotel was made of clear ice, through which the lights within cast a soft glow in the darkness. Pushing open the doors, he walked past ice sculptures until he found an employee.
“Would like to go to the bar, Sir,” she asked. “I’m afraid there are no tours tonight since the main rooms are reserved for a private party. The bar however serves many vodka cocktails in ice glasses.”
Nick waved her off. “It’s important I see the head of security for the party here tonight.”
“I’m sorry Sir, that’s not possible. That part of the hotel is strictly out of bounds tonight.” the young woman said, taking his arm and steering him towards the bar.
Rather than create a scene by arguing with her, Nick allowed himself to be led to the bar, while his attractive blonde escort told him about the sculptures and the work involved in constructing this unique structure. There seemed to be a large number of employees in the hallways, dressed in parkas with the IceHotel’s logo stitched on the front and distinctive blue and yellow toques. At one of the entrances to the bar, he felt another immortal and was glad, hoping to see the woman he had met that afternoon.
His guide left him so he stood and observed the crowded room. He looked over the heads, looking for the woman, but since everyone was swathed in parkas, toques, gloves, ski pants and boots, identification was difficult. Confidently he pushed his way through the crowd, looking into faces expectantly. Halfway to the bar, he started to wonder why she was in the bar when she had a job tonight.
“Did you hear who’s here tonight?” an English-accented woman asked. Nick paused behind the semicircular booth, with reindeer hides on the ice bench, curious to hear the answer.
“I know that whoever it is, it means we can’t have our tour,” complained her partner.
“One of the bartenders told me, in strictest confidence of course, that a member of the royal family is here.”
“Oooo, do you think it’s Prince William?”
“Silly. We aren’t the only ones with a royal family.” Her friend laughed. Nick moved on, trying to remember what he knew about the Swedish royal family. Not much.
Almost to the bar with its glowing green lights, Nick sensed the immortal buzz was fading. Focusing his attention on the sensation, he looked around at the various arched doorways. A slight movement caught his eye, the glint of metal inside a slightly-opened coat. A man dressed in black surrounded by four employees moved with intent through the doorway on the far side of the bar. The man in the middle glanced back and looked directly at Nick.
Another immortal!
“Excuse me, excuse me,” Nick muttered as he tried to hurry through the crowd of drinkers. Pausing at one particularly stubborn knot of people, he scanned the space again. No distinctive blue and yellow toques to be seen in the bar area at all. Something was very wrong.
Doubling over, he made retching noises. The group in his way stopped talking to look at him disdainfully. “I’m sorry, but the Absolut doesn’t seem to be agreeing with me,” Nick gasped between retches. He hoped the green glow from the lights helped make his face look convincingly ill.
The group melted away leaving a clear path to the exit. Clutching his stomach, Nick hurried out. The hallway was also strangely clear of employees with no sign of the immortal and his gang, but Nick sensed the faint buzz of the man. He hoped it was the man and not the woman he sensed. Music throbbed from the end of a long hallway to his left. Light was dim but he thought he could see figures running in the gloom.
A bullet whistled past his ear. “Not now you fool. You’ll alert them.” Nick could hear the hissed command as he ducked into an alcove. When the sound of their boots faded, he continued to follow them, moving quickly in order to catch up. He knew the immortal could sense him, but hoped that would distract him enough to make whatever plan they had hatched go awry.
The dome was incredible with lights and music pulsing off the snow, which had been packed into brick shapes to form a huge igloo. Round tables of ice ran around the perimeter, but most of the fifty or so guests were dancing in the middle of the floor. Immortal sensations flickered around the dome, seeming to come from many places at once. He had never been in the presence of more than one immortal at a time since becoming one himself and it was distracting. Just when he thought he had a fix on one, the sensations would flow and ebb leaving him searching again.
While trying to pinpoint the immortals, Nick saw many blue and yellow toques; some circling the dancers, some dancing and some attending to the tables. On looking more closely, he noticed that some of the blue and yellow toques were slightly different from the others. It was not so much the design of the woolen hats as that the colors on a few were slightly faded. Counting carefully while the hats bobbed around, he realized that the four who had come in with the immortal had the off hats. Nick figured that the lights in the dome allowed him to catch this discrepancy.
Still bemused by the immortal feelings, he decided to approach one of the faded toque-wearing accomplices. Two steps into the dome and three big guys took him down, rifling through his clothes, disarming him and pinning him down with their knees. A familiar blonde stood over him, arms akimbo. “I thought I told you to stay away,” she demanded.
“Listen, your charge is in danger. Let me talk to you privately, please,” said Nick urgently. He didn’t struggle to show his sincerity. “It’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Uh, uh,” she replied. “Tell me what you know.” She looked over the gun before tucking it into her coat.
“Check out the employees with the faded hats. I’ll bet my last dollar they’re bogus and probably with some group called Death to Royalty that wants to get rid of all royals. They came in here just before me. And they were with a member of the, uh, special club and I can’t find him.”
“He’s lying. Nobody got in here except employees, and that death to royalty group can’t be for real,” one of the guys with his knee on Nick’s chest insisted.
“Just look,” responded Nick. “What would it hurt? Do you really want your prince or princess killed on your watch?”
“How’d you know who is here?” demanded the woman.
“Just do it!” Nick growled.
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