The Devil's Reprise by Karina Halle Read Free Book Online

opened up for The Band. This was the place where I had the chance to fall—to fail—all over again.
    I took a long swig from the bottle and plopped backward onto the bed. I could feel the jet lag creeping toward me, extending its fingers, wanting to pull me under. I had to resist. I had the dinner. I had to stay awake.
    “Sage,” a voice called out, sweet and clear, like a meadow brook.
    I didn’t think much of the voice. I often heard voices. Usually they were screams. The sounds of my friends dying, echoing in my mind.
    But then I heard it again.
    “Sage.”
    I let the bottle carefully drop onto the floor and slowly raised my head off the mattress. The door to the bathroom was open just a crack. A tap was dripping.
    There was someone in there.
    The walls seemed to throb as I slowly eased myself off the bed. The champagne bubbles were a distant memory, and my tongue felt like it was coated with a layer of sand. I walked a few steps, one, two, three, and stopped outside the door, holding my breath.
    I waited a few seconds. Counting. Listening.
    Drip. Drip .
    Was that the sound of someone breathing? Or was that my own blood rushing through?
    I gently pushed the door open with my splayed fingers and prepared for the worst.
    The bathroom was empty. There was a porcelain toilet and something I assumed was a bidet, a tiny bathtub, and a mirror over the ornately carved sink.
    And on the mirror, written in red, was Be Careful What She Wished For.
    I stared at it dumbly for a few moments. My first thought was not of fear or my mind being fucked thoroughly but whether it was written in blood or red lipstick or red nail polish. I leaned forward, still too wary to set foot on the tiles, and peered at it closer. It was lipstick, the thick matte kind that Angeline was sporting earlier, but far lighter, brighter.
    All of which was totally unimportant. Because someone had left this message for me…hadn’t they?
    I exhaled sharply and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the message was still there.
    Be Careful What She Wished For.
    There was something about it, the way it registered in me. But I wasn’t sure why I was having a connection to it, other than the fact that it was written on my bathroom mirror.
    I made my way over to the champagne bottle, drank half of it in a few fizzy chugs, and picked up the phone, dialing the front desk. I tried to explain what had happened, but it was too complicated for their understanding of English, so I just told them I needed to see the manager. Then I asked to be connected to Jacob’s room.
    He answered on first ring. “Yellow?”
    “You need to come to my room—now,” I said, slamming down the phone.
    I paced back and forth for a few minutes, eyeing the bathroom, until Jacob arrived, knocking at my door.
    I let him in and pointed at the bathroom. “Take a look at that.”
    Jacob went over and poked his head in, looking from side to side. “Your bathroom is bigger than mine. Wanker.”
    “The mirror, Jacob,” I said, gritting my teeth. I plucked up the bottle and guzzled the rest of it.
    He looked back at the mirror, nodded, and said, “Huh. Graffiti.”
    “Is that it?” I couldn’t tell if he didn’t care or was being particularly evasive.
    He opened his mouth to say something, his crooked bottom teeth showing, just as the hotel manager appeared in the doorway, looking blasé.
    I quickly explained to him what had happened and let him see for himself. The manager looked at us apologetically and pressed his palms together.
    “You must excuse me, monsieur Knightly. We, ah, have a housecleaner here who can sometimes be a little…strange. She hasn’t done something like this in a while.”
    I studied him, trying to see if he was telling the truth or not. I wasn’t sure why he’d lie, but it was hard to know with the French.
    “It’s in English, though, mate,” Jacob said, pointing at it. “Does your loony housecleaner know English, too?”
    The manager shrugged.