Haunted

By Amanda Bonilla

A short story from the Sentry of Evil world…


Working on a TV special about one of McCall, Idaho’s legendary “haunted” hotels isn’t exactly how production assistant Alyssa Shaw wants to spend her weekend. But when the hotel’s handsome caretaker finds her outside at night, Alyssa forgets all about ghosts and her annoying boss.


Alec Bailey knows a thing or two about the supernatural world and its dangers. When the local news crew shows up to do a piece on his hotel, he knows he should send them away…especially with that unchecked demon lurking on the property perimeter. Supernatural protocol dictates he call in Jacquelyn, McCall’s own demon hunter, but he isn’t ready to say goodbye to the beautiful crew member who reminds of a time in his life long past…


If Alec can’t keep Alyssa from the forest, she’s as good as dead. When she ventures past the iron fence, Alec realizes that he’ll have to defy supernatural law if he’s going to save her. And it may be that defiance, this time, will save him right back…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: May 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094458007

Amanda Bonilla

Amanda Bonilla is the author of the Shaede Assassin and Sentry of Evil urban fantasy romance series. The debut novel in the series, SHAEDES OF GRAY, was nominated for Best Urban Fantasy Protagonist of 2011 by Romantic Times Magazine. Amanda lives in rural Idaho. She's a part-time pet wrangler, a full-time sun worshipper, and only goes out into the cold when coerced. She also writes romantic suspense as Mandy Baxter and paranormal romance as Kate Baxter.

Book preview

1

O KAY, LET’S UNPACK the gear and then everyone can get set up in a room.

Alyssa Shaw looked around the deserted lobby of the almost century old hotel and wondered if it was too late to turn around and go back to Boise. The Payette Lake Hotel was the subject of an upcoming news story that KLBV was planning to air for a Halloween ratings boost. And she was the unlucky production assistant assigned to accompany the talent and crew for their haunted house experience.

That’d teach her to be late for a production meeting.

Aly, let’s make sure that Melinda starts the report here, Jeff, the producer, said, pointing to the front desk. I’d like to get a shot of her standing at the desk and then walking out from behind it. And for the love of all that is holy, make sure no one dusts a single surface.

The onset of an epic sneeze tickled her nose and Alyssa took a couple of deep breaths to stifle it. God forbid she disturb a single dust particle, though they were assaulting her nose and lungs in an invisible hoard of allergens sure to choke the life from her by the time the weekend was over. Blech.

What about the rooms? No way was she going to sleep somewhere that was coated with a hundred years’ worth of grime. Do you really think Melinda’s going to sleep somewhere that hasn’t been thoroughly sterilized? At this point, it was better to throw her own concerns off on the talent. Melinda McAvoy was a known germaphobe and major diva. And Jeff knew it.

The top floor’s been scrubbed down. The historical society’s tour season ended a couple of months ago, but I hired a cleaning company to take care of the top floor for us so it would be livable.

Of course. Jeff thought of everything, including enticing the historical society to let him help their fundraising efforts by showcasing the supposed haunted hotel for their news story. Not that Alyssa bought into the whole haunted hotel angle. Great. Todd has all of the gear for tomorrow’s shoot ready to roll so I’m going to go upstairs and stake a claim.

Leave the suite for Melinda! Jeff called as Alyssa headed for the stairs.

As if she’d even consider the possibility of making the Melinda McAvoy sleep in a—gasp!—small room with a standard sized bed. Oh, the horror! She flashed Jeff a thumbs up, totally not the digit she wanted to show him, and continued her climb to the third floor.

In the light of day, Alyssa couldn’t find a single creepy thing about the hotel, besides the fact that it was a total throwback from the prohibition era and ass-numbingly cold. Then again, it was late-October, and McCall, Idaho was about as warm as a deep freeze this time of year. Did the north wind ever quit blowing? Either way, she doubted chill had little to do with any sort of supernatural presence. If anything, this entire field trip was nothing more than an excuse for Melinda and Jeff to get away for the weekend so they could fuck like bunnies without their respective spouses interfering. Totally more disturbing than the thought of being catapulted across the room by an angry poltergeist.

Once she reached the third floor landing, Alyssa hung a right and ducked into the first room at the top of the stairs. Why be picky? She just wanted to unload her duffle and laptop and lie down for a few minutes…

Alyssa! Where the hell are you? I need someone to grab my bags!

A low groan worked its way up Alyssa’s throat and she fell back on the bed, only mildly surprised a cloud of dust didn’t billow from the coverlet. Melinda was early, as was evidenced by the shrill, harpy cry that boomed all the way up to the third floor without the aid of a megaphone.

Why, god? Alyssa stared at the ceiling, a cold lump of despair congealing in her stomach. At twenty five and barely past the intern stage of her career, she knew beggars couldn’t be choosers, but why oh why did she have to work for the mother of all divas? Surely Naomi Campbell’s personal