Chapter Sixteen: The Tenth Floor
Little did Jack and Keith know that as they headed up to the second floor, the girl they wished to find stood in a suite on the tenth, asking a question she wasn't sure she should ask.
"What-- um--" she asked, biting her lower lip nervously. "What other things am I destined for?"
Her grandmother offered a mysterious smile in response. "Did you enjoy growing up here, Emily?"
Emily shrugged, bewildered. "Sure, I guess."
"I'll bet you did," Irina responded, her smile growing confident. "I'll bet you felt like a princess, living in that gorgeous little cottage on the beach."
Emily only shrugged again. How the hell was she supposed to answer that?"
"Your parents treated you like a princess, you know, at least when you were younger," Irina continued. "They loved Jack, too, but you were always so pleasant, so well-behaved, and you required such care."
Emily fidgeted nervously, but when her voice came out, it was strong and clear. "You still haven't told me what I'm destined for."
Irina's face suddenly turned very serious. "Emily, darling," she said, her voice cool. "What do you know about the Organization?"
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Jack and Keith heard room 247 well before they saw the numbers on the door. The raucous music spilling from the room practically made the walls vibrate.
"I wonder how many complaints the manager's gotten so far," Keith muttered.
Jack shrugged. "Everyone's probably out partying."
Keith rapped on the door; he had to practically pound before he got anyone's attention. Andrew Lincoln answered the door wearing nothing but a Santa hat and a pair of pajama pants with candy canes on them.
"Where the hell's Emily?" Keith demanded, before Jack could.
"Emily Vaughn?" Andrew asked, looking from Keith to Jack and back again. "I don't fucking know. Hey, Ingalls!" he called into the room. "Has Emily Vaughn stopped by?"
"Emily Vaughn?" Jack watched as Chad Ingalls appeared next to Andrew. He was fully dressed, at least. "Nah, man. I saw her downstairs talking to some old guy."
"Old guy?" Jack repeated.
"Yeah, man," Chad confirmed, raking a hand back through his hair. "He was like forty, or something."
"Hot, though," a female voice piped up.
Jack's eyes widened as Delia appeared, clutching a half-empty bottle of champagne, the strap of her dress sliding down her arm. "Jack," she gasped.
"Delia, uh--" Jack began, then his eyes widened as a realization hit him. "Oh my God."
"What?" Keith asked with a frown.
"I think I know where Emily is," he said, grabbing Keith's arm. "Come on, we've gotta go."
"What? Where?"
"Tenth floor."