“And here we are,” Finn said, steering out of the trees and into a wide, circular area in front of the hotel.

   He pulled up close to the entrance and stopped, and the four of us got out of the car.

   The Bullet Pointe resort hotel loomed up before us. The seven-story structure was made out of enormous gray rocks fitted together, along with thick, sturdy beams of old, gray weathered wood. Wide, short windows gleamed like rectangular diamonds in the sunlight, while the black slate roof rose to a sharp point. The front of the hotel was flanked by a stone porch that featured rows of rocking chairs and old-fashioned barrels with checkerboards and other games perched on top.

   Christmas had definitely come early here. Large clusters of potted poinsettias were spaced every few feet along the porch, while mistletoe and other greenery wrapped around the stone columns, along with white twinkle lights. Still more white icicle lights dripped down from all the windows and eaves, while ten-foot-wide evergreen wreaths topped with red velvet bows dangled from the sides of the structure. The hotel reminded me of some rustic Western hunting lodge that had been decked out for the holidays and dropped into the middle of the Appalachian Mountains.

   “Isn’t it cool?” Finn said, his face lighting up with excitement. “This is going to be such a great weekend. Let’s get our luggage and go inside.”

   Although it was just after ten o’clock in the morning, a steady stream of people moved in and out of the hotel, checking in, checking out, hauling suitcases, coolers, and more here and there. A valet dressed like a cowboy took Finn’s car keys, while a couple of bellmen, also dressed like cowboys, hustled up and loaded our luggage onto a brass cart. The four of us headed for the main entrance, a stone archway that was lined with deer and elk antlers with white lights wrapped around them.

   Finn was busy talking and pointing out things to Bria and Owen, but I looked around, examining everything and everyone around me. The valets and bellmen were hurrying to do their jobs, while the other guests were busy wrangling their kids and their luggage. I also reached out with my Stone magic, but the rocks that made up the hotel only murmured with all the fast-paced hustle and bustle of the thousands of people who stayed here every year, and I didn’t detect any loud, obvious notes of malice, mayhem, or murder.

   Still, I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me.

   A familiar ominous dread filled the pit of my stomach, and the spider rune scars embedded in my palms started itching and burning, almost in warning. I could have sworn that someone was staring at me. I looked around again, but the busy scene was the same as before, with guests, valets, and bellmen all caught up in their own luggage, tips, and chores. So my gaze wandered higher toward the upper levels of the hotel—

   A white curtain twitched in a window on the third floor.

   My head snapped up, and my eyes narrowed as I peered at that window, but the curtain had already dropped back into place, and I couldn’t see who—if anyone—was standing behind it. Still, I stayed where I was, hoping that the curtain would move again, revealing exactly who was on the other side—

   “Come on, Gin!” Finn called out. “Time’s a’wasting!”

   He waved at me before stepping through the arched entrance. Bria and Owen followed him, but I stayed where I was and looked up at the window again.

   The white curtain remained perfectly still, although my uneasy sensation of being watched didn’t vanish. If anything, it intensified the longer I looked up at the curtain, as though I were locked in a staring contest with someone I couldn’t even see—

   “Gin!” Finn called out again, hanging on to the side of the archway. “Come on, already!”

   At his second, louder shout, guests and workers alike turned to stare at me, increasing my discomfort, and I had no choice but to duck my head and hurry forward. Still, as I stepped into the hotel, one thought kept running through my mind.

   We’d just gotten here, and I already felt like we’d made a dangerous mistake.

   * * *

   I stepped through the archway and caught up with Bria and Owen, who were looking around the lobby while Finn talked to one of the cowboy clerks at the checkout counter.

   The Bullet Pointe hotel might have seemed rustic from the outside, but Deirdre Shaw had certainly spared no expense remodeling the inside, which was all rich, luxe comfort. An enormous gray stone fireplace at least fifty feet wide took up one entire wall of the lobby, with padded rocking chairs and overstuffed sofas scattered in front of it. Given the cold outside, several folks were relaxing in front of the crackling flames and sipping tall mugs of hot chocolate and spiced apple cider, while other guests were perched on stools at a bar close to the fireplace, sipping harder brews.

   Waiters dressed like cowboys and waitresses in saloon-girl costumes moved from the bar, through the crowd in front of the fireplace, and back again, serving and refilling drinks. Still more costumed waitstaff circulated through the lobby, dropping off plates of appetizers and small snacks, before heading back down a hallway to a nearby kitchen.

   More chairs and sofas were clustered in groups throughout the lobby, for those who preferred to relax away from the heat of the fireplace, along with tables that featured tall lamps made out of deer, elk, and moose antlers. Those same sorts of antlers also wrapped around the wide wagon-wheel chandeliers that dropped down from the ceiling.

   But the rustic decor couldn’t compete with all the Christmas trees. More than a dozen of them were spread throughout the lobby, ranging in size from cute three-foot tabletoppers to the showstopping thirty-foot spruce in the center of the lobby. No fakes here. These trees were definitely genuine, given the strong tangy evergreen scent that perfumed the air.

   Each tree had a different theme and decorations to match. One tree was its own toy box, with rag dolls, miniature trains, and tin soldiers dangling from its branches, along with popcorn and cranberry strings. Another had a cowboy theme, naturally, with miniature boots, lassos, and silver spurs covering it from top to bottom. One was its own winter wonderland, decked out in crystal snowflakes, glass snowmen, and silver tinsel. On and on they went, each tree boasting more lights and ornaments than the last.