The Gauntlet: The Soppranaturale Series: The Soppranaturale Series, #1

By Ashley Pagano

Hidden in plain sight, is a mysterious hotel that doubles as a supernatural refugee: The Soppronaturale. 

Each supernatural inhabitant has a specific purpose, job, and destiny. 

All to keep the hotel running and its secrets safe.

Vampires exist. Werewolves exist. Witches exist. Shape Shifters exist. And now Faeries exist. 

The last two Faeries, once unified, could be the most powerful forces on Earth. 

Ommily, newcomer to the Soppronaturale, offensively controls and manipulates the four elements; Fire, Earth, Wind and Water. While Link defensively uses their energy to shield Ommily and himself from even the darkest magic. 

They could protect all others. But first, they have to defeat the Gauntlet.     

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: Apr 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781949931150

Book preview

The Gauntlet

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The Soppranaturale Series

Ashley Pagano

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this stripped book.

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The Gauntlet: The Soppranaturale Series

Copyright © 2019 Ashley Pagano

All rights reserved.

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ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-949931-15-0

(print) 978-1-949931-16-7

Inkspell Publishing

5764 Woodbine Ave.

Pinckney, MI 48169

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Edited By Rie Langdon

Cover art By Najla Qamber

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This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

The Soppranaturale Hotel is said to be the home and hideout to countless, mysterious

supernatural beings.

Its whereabouts are truly unknown.

Dedication

To my vivacious, loving grandmother,

Who reads every one of my books the second they

come out,

Who loves every sentence of them,

Who pushes them on everyone she meets: family, friends, and complete strangers,

And who inspires me to write many more.

Thank you.

CHAPTER 1: IMPOSSIBLE...YET HERE SHE IS

When she walks into the hotel lobby, my world stands still. As if the earth suddenly stops rotating for a brief, suffocating second. Not just for me, but other men and women seem to pause just to stare at her, too. Huddled businessmen stumble over their words as they cut off their conversations in order to gawk at her. Their gazes follow her curves, from her forehead down to her heels. Their mouths hang open with no regard to impending drool. Wide-eyed women follow her path also, turning their heads just enough to hide their judgmental expressions. Even the teenage bellboy nearly trips over his luggage cart as he catches sight of her. For me, I have to grip the counter to stop myself from swaying and my knees from buckling, fighting the breath that’s caught in my windpipe.

Her hair, like fire, consumes her shoulders in perfect, flowing ringlets. Her eyes are like protuberant green emeralds that capture your soul, if ever your gaze aligns with hers. Her skin is as if it were painted on her face, pulling in the bronze summer highlights from outside. Her smile is one luminous hue of ivory, matching the sagging tissues directly in front of me. Her body is thin yet slightly muscular, bulging or pinching inward in all the right places. Her clothes even look as though they were made specifically for her, hugging her body seamlessly.

She pauses to study the lobby’s vibrant paintings, which every normal person just dismisses as make-believe re-creations. She even spends several minutes leaning over and reading each caption, completely unaware of her audience.

Through the double doors trudges a debonair businessman wheeling two lopsided suitcases. His entrance whips the breeze through her hair, wrapping it around her neck like a noose. Still, her eyes stay glued to the paintings as she throws her hair back over her shoulder like a lifeguard on Bay Watch.

The man empties his pockets and flops his wallet, keys, and cell phone on the counter. Checking in, please, he says rather suavely, while pushing the creased itinerary toward me.

Finally, I make eye contact with him, clear my throat, and compose myself. I pull the itinerary off the counter and unfold it. Mr. Preston Aimes, welcome to the Soppranaturale Hotel. I fake a smile as I quickly type his name and confirmation number into my computer. I don’t realize my hands are shaking until I misspell his name, twice. I have you booked for a queen, non-smoking suite for two.

Yes, that is correct. His voice is just as deep in tone as my own.

I’ll just need a credit card on file and your license. We will not charge you for incidentals until checkout. I straighten my posture and pull down my bunched-up uniform in an attempt to look more professional.

Certainly. He pulls his license and credit card out of his wallet with one smooth motion, griping each between a different pair of fingers.

I swipe his card, check that his information matches, and then I slip it back across the counter as if I’m dealing him cards in a game of high-stakes poker. Here, we allow you to choose your floor, Mr. Aimes—

Before I can get out the rest of my sentence, her hand spreads over his shoulder like an elongated starfish. A sparkling, oversized diamond reflects a rainbow aura around her ring finger. She brushes her body against his and nonchalantly rests her elbow on the counter. I can hear myself gasp, but luckily neither of them does.

We can pick our floor? She bats her long, dark eyelashes. With every flutter they seem to shimmer in the light of the hanging crystal chandeliers.

Uh... Yes. Of course. My words sound rickety and cracked as they pass over my lips. That’s when my eyes reluctantly lock with hers and immediately a warm rush erupts from the center of my abdomen, like a cluster of spark plugs. Its heat spreads throughout my body, weakening me and causing me nearly to pass out. I watch her bobble her footing at the exact same moment and lean on the counter in order to balance herself. Her palms slip across the marble until their moisture halts them. Aimes attempts to stabilize her.

Ommily! Oh my god. Are you all right? He frantically steadies her.

Meanwhile, I’m about to go down, blanketed by a warm, tingling sensation of euphoria.

Easy, Link. It’s okay. I’ve got this. Kyran’s voice whispers softly in my ear and he grips my biceps. He holds up my entire weight, effortlessly, and shuffles me aside.

Miss, are you all right? Kyran’s booming voice immediately whisks their attention away from each other.

Um... Yes. I believe so. She struggles to find an excuse for nearly fainting. Too much sun, maybe. She charmingly giggles, addressing the nosey lobby that has been watching her the entire time.

Some water? Kyran offers her a cool glass of water that, apparently, no one saw him retrieve.

Thank you, she whispers, loudly gulping it down to validate her alibi.

Behind Kyran, I lean up against the wall as I feel my face flush red and my heart speed up to a pace so high, that you’d think I was sprinting. At the same time, her hand rests on her collarbone, obviously attempting to breathe through whatever is bothering her.

Perhaps you should sit down? Kyran suggests calmly, gesturing to the assortment of chairs and couches behind them.

No, no. I’m all right now. Whatever that was has just about passed.

Well, then, ma’am. You may pick any floor you wish and go straight upstairs to take a relaxing bubble bath. That is an order. Kyran ticks his authoritative finger at her. Being that he owns the entire hotel, he can do that.

Seven. She unknowingly blurts out the magical number that only a supernatural would say; the floor where only supernaturals reside.

My saliva gets caught in my throat like a scratchy tumbleweed when I hear it. I begin hyperventilating. Kyran, you can’t let them...

Honey, you know I have an issue with heights. Perhaps floor two or three would be better. Aimes grips her shoulders and leans in to her face, non-verbally assuring her.

How about room 314, overlooking our very own arboretum? It has a beautiful view of the grounds too. Especially at sunset. Kyran solidifies their choice.

Oh...yes. That room is just fine. Seven’s my lucky number, that’s all. A shorter distance for me to faint, too. Her joke successfully lightens the mood as I finally begin to feel normal again.

Here are your keys. You take the elevator up to the third floor and take a right and it’s down the hall on your right, I believe. Kyran smiles grandly as he hands over their keys. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you. Anything at all.

Real quick, my fiancée heard that this hotel is haunted or something. She loves that stuff. Do you have a brochure with all the available amenities?

Jesus, your fiancée almost fainted and you’re stalling. Just go! All I want them to do is go.

Of course, here you are. Drake, help them with their luggage! Kyran hands them a neatly folded brochure with a map of the grounds staked on top. He snaps his fingers and points the ogling bellboy in their direction.

Thank you! they say in unison. Hers is an ashamed whisper, while his is confirmed closure.

Aimes ushers her toward the elevator with his hand planted on her lower back like a ventriloquist while Drake juggles the luggage behind them. Simultaneously, I peel myself away from the wall; my sweaty handprints warp its delicate wallpaper. My uniform sticks to my back like a plastic bag, my shoes feel spongy, the tips of my short hair sag, and my forehead glistens. I’m a mess.

That’s when she curiously glances back, still keeping the majority of her body forward. Her glance connects with mine and I feel that same sensation, once more. Thankfully, it’s not nearly as intense as before. But it’s as if there is an invisible string of energy tying us together, suspended in the air between her and me. I let my brows crease into a shadowy V and I squint, desperately trying to communicate with her. But suddenly, the elevator doors cut off our connected gaze. The second they shut, I hunch over the counter in relief, leaning on Kyran.

What the hell was that?

"I think you mean, who the hell was that?" Kyran pats me on the back. An evil and cunning smirk creeps across his face.

"What do you mean who?" I grip my chest, scrunching up my starchy uniform underneath.

Kyran spins me into the back room when no one is watching. That, my dear boy, that was you. The only other you in the whole, vast world.

That’s impossible. I say in a brittle voice, my eyes swelling with tears.

Impossible...yet here she is.

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Pacing. Continuous pacing. I walk back and forth, back and forth, as if to wear a thin line in the carpeting. I violently shake my head. All the while, Kyran sits statuesque in his throne-like armchair, intently watching me. Only his eyes follow, nothing else.

I’ve searched everywhere. I’ve been to the ends of the earth, hoping to find another like me and always I’ve found nothing. And what happens? She shows up on our doorstep, after all this time. I bury my face in my hands as I pivot to blindly walk another line.

Kyran lights up a fancy Victorian pipe that he’s saved from the 1800s. He relaxes and inhales it deeply, puffing out three, perfect, feathery Os.

I snap at him. Why do you do that? Huh? It’s not like it does anything for you!

Oh, by now it’s just an oral fixation. It’s a habit, really. I smoked long before I was turned vampire and I’ll smoke long after. His chiseled, pasty face grimaces and his blackened, emotionless eyes dig into mine, almost carving them out of their sockets. His glance bullies me into hushing, a craft perfected by older vampires.

Stop it! That shit doesn’t work on me, remember! I scold him as if he isn’t thousands of years older than me. I pause for a moment, attempting to stand as still as him.