They were in constant motion and she'd lost track of which was which. "Breakfast is included in the price."

"Great but all we really need you to do is..."

"... throw half a dozen raw eggs into a blender."

"We're in training."

For what? Salmonella? But they were guests, so all she said aloud was, "Well, if you'll give us a few minutes, we'll get room one ready for you."

"No hurry."

"We're going for a run down by the lake."

"We've been on the road since dawn and..."

"... we don't do so well sitting still that long."

"We'll be back in about an hour."

Ron, or possibly Reg, grinned up, way up, at Dean. "See you later, big fella."

Reg, or as it were, Ron, nodded at Claire. "Ma'am."

They bounded out the door together. Claire had never seen anyone over the age of three actually bound before. Feeling a little out of breath, although she hadn't moved from behind the counter during the entire exchange, she wondered just when exactly she'd become a ma'am.

"Cool guys," Dean said. "Lots of energy. Should I go up and do the room?"

And was Boss really any better?

"Boss?"

Not really. "Why not? Has to be done."

She walked over to the desk as he went upstairs and dropped into the chair. Keep your distance, she reminded herself. The way things have turned out, he'll be moving on long before you do.

When Austin came into the office a few minutes later, she was sulkily updating the day's noninformation into the site journal. "What's with you?" she asked, noticing the cat's bottle brush tail, and half open mouth.

"Something stinks," he growled. "I smell dog."

"Two guests just registered." She hadn't noticed any particular odor, but if the twins were competing at the sportsman's show perhaps that meant they worked with dogs.

"It's coming from over here."

Rolling her eyes, Claire got up to peer over the counter at him.

"And it's not dog."

He was sniffing the spot where Reg, or possibly Ron, had stood to sign the register.

"Then what is it?"

"Werewolf."

WEREWOLVES?.

THERE WOLVES. THERE CASTLE.

The silence that fell in the furnace room was the sort of antic.i.p.atory silence that fell just before a smack. In this particular case, it wasn't so much a smack as total, all encompa.s.sing destruction.

The silence continued a moment longer, then a very small voice said, OW.

CHAPTER NINE.

"The seepage is building up again." Sitting on the edge of the bed, Claire pulled on a sock. "I can feel the buzz beginning."

Austin yawned. "What're you going to do about it."

"I don't know. I can stop the buzz by using it, which'll make h.e.l.l happy, or I can endure it and go slowly nuts, which'll also make h.e.l.l happy. There's got to be an alternative."

"I'll let you know if I think of one."

Claire rolled her eyes. "You do that."

"You going after the Historian this morning?"

Already halfway out the door, she threw an irritated, "What's the point?" back over her shoulder.

"Boss? You busy?"

Claire looked up from writing Smythe junk on the outside of the sixth box of a.s.sorted odds and ends, mostly ends, she'd cleared from the sitting room. "Not exactly, no."

"Can I talk to you?"

"I think I can spare a moment." When he frowned, clearly considering the actual time he'd need, Claire sighed. "Figure of speech. Dean. What did you want to tell me?"

"Well, I was upstairs, wiping down the molding..."

She leaned slightly toward him, as though proximity would help the statement make more sense. "You were what?"

"Wiping down the molding. The trim around the doors," he expanded with an indulgent smile when she continued to look confused. "It collects dust. I didn't get to it last week because of the renovations. Anyway, you know the two guys in room one; the twins?"

"The triplets."

"Okay."

Claire managed to rearrange her face into her most neutral expression. "What about them?"