Page 52 of Into the Fire

Donnelly continued, not waiting for an answer. “There’s something else, slippery as if it doesn’t want to be seen, and hard to detect past the landvaettir’s aura. Interesting…”

“We haven’t found the details of the last binding, which happened about sixty years ago,” Simon told him. “If the entity was tricked into being trapped, it won’t be likely to make the same mistake again.”

Donnelly took a deep breath, reminding Simon of a university professor preparing to expound to his class. “Those spirits are sentient, but neither alive nor dead as we reckon the concepts.” He paused, thinking. “In a way, trapping the entity in a sealed room at the hotel isn’t much different than putting the zombies in stasis at the storage unit. The one difference being that the landvaettir would have been aware of its confinement at some level. They also often have ‘parasite’ spirits that feed off their energy and the chaos they cause, fire salamanders and dark ghosts, among others.”

He brightened. “An interesting puzzle. I will go back and talk with Cassidy, Sorren, and some of our other friends to help find a solution.”

Simon tried to hide his disappointment that, unlike at the storage building, an immediate solution wasn’t forthcoming, but he was glad to hear Donnelly independently validate his theory about fire salamanders and dark spirits. “Thank you. I’m glad for any help I can get.”

Donnelly gave him a jovial slap on the back. “Chin up. There will be a solution.” He checked his watch. “I need to get back. It’s my bridge night.” He gave a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll be in touch.”

He waved as he drove away, and Simon hurried back to his car, not wanting to stay close to the Ocean Visions any longer than necessary. Since it was still too early for Vic to be home, Simon drove to the beach and sat on a bench for half an hour, staring at the waves and letting his thoughts sort themselves out.

He wasn’t surprised when Bob Fanning’s number lit up his phone not long after.

“When I hired you to fix the problem, I didn’t mean burn the place down!” Fanning yelled.

“There was a short in the switch,” Simon lied calmly. Knowing what they had fought meant he felt no real remorse.

“Bullshit. There was nothing wrong with the electricity.”

“Okay, how about this? We found nine decomposing bodies inside, and in the process of trying to safely remove them and cleanse the ghosts, a fire started,” Simon replied.

“Bodies?” Fanning choked.

“Yeah. Cops would have had a field day. Your place would have been all over the news for days, maybe weeks. Would probably have closed the whole thing down until they could inspect all the units. Which would also mean that if any of your tenants were storing anything hinky, they’d have gotten arrested.” After everything he had been through, Fanning’s temper didn’t faze Simon.

“Cops?” Fanning didn’t seem to be able to manage more than a word at a time, and Simon knew he had hit the sore spot.

No matter what the contract said, storage units were infamous for holding questionable, if not downright illegal, items, from stolen goods to illicit drugs. Most people stored Christmas decorations and extra furniture, but the few who broke the rules endangered everyone.

“Did the fire alarm go off?” Simon already knew the answer.

“No, which is really strange. Just tested it a few weeks ago. The fire only burned that unit. No smoke damage, nothing else destroyed,” Fanning had a note in his tone that said he might have been starting to link the idea of a supernatural remedy to the odd circumstances.

“Did you know that the unit had ties to a wanted criminal who fled the country and is hiding out in Russia?” Simon asked. “Linked to disappearances, possible deaths. Would have raised all kinds of questions about what kind of tenants you permit.”

“Oh, God.” Fanning sounded like he might faint. “I’m not happy about the damage, but I get that it could have been worse. Although I only have your word to take for it.”

“Do a search on Sergei Morozov,” Simon told him. “That’s the performer whose things were in the unit. Given his track record, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you or one of your staff to protect his secrets.”

“Okay, I get it. Send me the bill. I won’t even make a fuss about paying for damages,” Fanning said as if he were extending a big favor

“I’m sure you have insurance,” Simon replied. If he had known up front what they would face, he would have asked for more money.

“All right. But I’m not writing a good review online.”

“That’s fine.” It was the outcome Simon actually preferred. There was no way Fanning could have described the situation without sounding insane or getting the police involved.

When he ended the call, Simon glanced at his watch and realized that it was nearly time for Vic to get home. Simon got there first and put a casserole in the oven before he went upstairs and took a shower, using a mix of cleansing herbs to ensure no supernatural darkness had clung to him.

“How was today?” Vic greeted Simon with a kiss.

“Fine, except for the zombies,” Simon replied.

Vic stepped back and gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s a joke, right?”

Simon let out a long breath. “I wish. Let’s eat, and then I’ll tell you all about it. It’s not dinner conversation.”