Chapter 11

With the helpof Noreen Greene, and social media, last minute plans were made for a party that same evening. Reynard prepared for our guest of honor—the shadowbeast—while I uncovered some old bunting, and had the staff string it along the front porch with balloons, in a sorry-looking excuse for a celebration.

The balloons drooped, and the bunting had been nibbled by gremlins, but it would have to do.

Although, as it turned out, Reynard had thought of that too. A few hours before dusk, an army of well-dressed city-types arrived, claiming to be from Reynard Technologies, and with a few claps of their manicured hands, they filled the lobby with decorations that far outshone my sorry attempt.

Soon, curious passers-by dropped in, taking advantage of the free bar—all paid for by our patron, Lord Victor Reynard. It seemed like a lot, but it was worth it, to get Zee back.

I kept an eye on Tom Collins, after warning him not to drug the guests. He claimed to be innocent of adding cocaine to my drink, but also had a mischievous glint in his eye. I must have purchased the most inappropriate bartender to ever have existed. But there was something about his charming, chipper attitude, speckled with expletives, that was also kinda growing on me. Yes, he swore... at everyone. And he completely ignored most orders, giving guests the drinks he wanted to serve them, not those they’d ordered. But as I watched, most guests went away happy. Perhaps because Reynard was picking up the tab, but even so, Tom Collins had something special because he was broken—just like the rest of us.

“So where’s the demon? This seems like his kind of rodeo,” Tom said, taking a moment between orders to chat with me.

I scanned the packed bar. The jukebox was playing, loud and clear, and there was barely a clear gap on the floor. Only the stage was empty, missing its main act. “Yeah, he’d love it.”

“He’s not coming? Did you two have a disagreement?”

“Nothing like that. He uh... well, he’s been kidnapped by a megalomaniac sorcerer who is hell-bent on destroying me, and this hotel.”

The glass Tom had been drying slipped from his fingers. I lunged, caught it, and frowned at his glitch. “Butterfingers.”

“Kidnapped?” Tom squeaked.

I nodded sadly and handed over the glass. “This party is all part of a plan to get him back.”

“My, my... what a fucking shit-show. Are you expecting the kidnapper to be here?”

“Not in person, just his minion.”

“Point them out, and I’ll make sure to fix them a drink with a little something extra potent.” He winked.

“You . . . wait, what? No.”

“It won’t leave any lasting effects. Unless you want it to, of course.” His eyebrows waggled.

“You can’t—” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “You can’t poison people. Even bad ones.”

“In case you hadn’t fucking noticed, it’s literally my job to do exactly that.”

“Not with real poison!”

“Look, Adam. If you wanted a nice, wholesome bartender to mix you drinks and listen to your woes, why the fuck did you buy me?” He swept an arm at the multi-colored racks of bottles behind him that did admittedly look like an apothecary’s shelves. “What do you see?”

“Uh . . . drinks?”

“No. Want to kill a cheating lover? Try the Deceitful Daiquiri. A truth serum? Order the Veracity Venom. Or let’s say you want someone to love you, but just for a day. Then you’ll want the Amore Elixir. Sex on the Beach will make you come on that stool. Alcohol, my dear man, has the answer to everything.”

My mouth fell open. “Your drinks can do that?”

“Why do you think I was discontinued? I was too literal. . . too shocking.”

I gulped. “I’ve created a monster.”

“If by monster you mean the best fucking bartender in this fine city, then you’re welcome.”

“Just... just don’t poison anyone tonight. Except Gideon.” Well, that had just slipped right out.

Tom’s eyebrows lifted. “Is this Gideon the man who kidnapped our Zodiac?”

“Never mind, I didn’t mean that. Don’t poison anyone. You can’t. The wards will prevent you from causing harm. And Gideon probably won’t come, not after yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?

“His minion threw Lord Reynard out a window.”

Tom nodded, thinking it over. “And we’re not poisoning him because?”

“Because it’s wrong?”

“Oh right.” Tom winked again. “It’s ha ha wrong.”

“No, I’m not being cryptic. Poisoning people is wrong, Tom.”

He winked again.

“Why are you winking? Humans react very badly to that sort of thing. The reviews will be terrible, and there are laws against it. The wards?—”

“Wards aren’t infallible,” Tom said, with far too much confidence for my liking. “Well hello, there,” he crooned at a new customer, completely ignoring my attempt to rein him in. “What can I get you? And may I say how fabulous your hair is? You definitely look like you need a good time, so let’s set you up with some liquid sex.”

“No poison,”I mouthed. This time he saluted, and I had no idea if that was the same as winking? Maybe he should poison Gideon. It would solve a lot of my problems. But any ill intent, and the wards would lock Tom down. I was sure of it—mostly.

What was I thinking? I couldn’t sanction poisoning...

The last thing we needed was to give Gideon more ammunition to shoot us down with. Gideon wasn’t coming anyway, so all of this was moot. We just needed his shadowbeast to make an appearance and to fall into Reynard’s trap.

I left the bar, surprised to find the lobby throbbing with Lost Ones and humans alike. This was either a wonderful idea, or a dangerous one. Either way, the wards would protect everyone. Hopefully.

I waved a hello to Noreen Greene, then ducked my head and vanished out a side door, so she couldn’t corner me with a thousand questions. Away from the hustle and bustle of the rapidly burgeoning party, I found Reynard in the attic, looking very gothic as he stood over a pentagram chalked onto the floor, surrounded by half a dozen flickering candles.

“This looks like... fun.” I hadn’t expected ritual magic. He didn’t seem the sort. Zee would use it as further evidence he couldn’t be trusted, but as he was doing this to help find Zee, I wasn’t going to question it. Maybe later.

“How is the party coming along?” he asked.

“It’s looking good, popular even. Thank you for the extra decorations.”

“You’re welcome.” Reynard could barely take his eyes from his artwork. He’d tucked his hair behind both ears, thinning his face and adding more seriousness, but there was a wicked little shimmer of hunger in his eyes that suggested he hadn’t had this much fun in a while. He’d tossed his suit jacket and tie, and rolled up his shirt sleeves too. He looked even better all tousled and manic.

“Can you get me a gremlin?”

“A what now?”

“A gremlin.” He waved a hand. “You have traps all over. I just need one to grease the gears.”

“Grease the—” Oh. Blood. He was talking about blood. I didn’t much like the gremlins that lived in our walls, but I also wasn’t too keen on sacrificing one, even for the greater good. “Can’t you just use mine?”

His glare snapped to me. “Most certainly, Adam.”

He reached out and I automatically offered my wrist, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to expose your veins to a blood-sucking vampire. I expected him to use a knife, or something similarly sharp, but as he brought my wrist to his lips, I realized my faux pas too late.

His warm, soft mouth touched my skin, sending an electric shiver through me, chased by the brief pinprick jab of his fangs. His eyes fixed on mine, pupils widening, and just like before, those little shivers traveled down my back, collecting in my cock. But in the second I realized I was about to get hard, he withdrew, tugged me forward a step, and held my wrist over the pentagram. Scarlet blood dribbled onto the chalk. The design flared, briefly electrified, before fading to a chalk line again.

“Beautiful,” Reynard said, looking at me.

Heat warmed my face. He clearly didn’t mean me. But as he held my wrist, and we stared into each other’s eyes, the seconds ticked by, and a sense of safety and comfort had me gazing back, not wanting to break free.

Reynard slid his gaze sideways, and clearing his throat, he freed my wrist. “There, now we have a shadowbeast trap.”

I brought my wrist up, and swept a few leaking drops of blood away. Reynard’s gaze tracked the movement, skipping up to my face, then back to his sacrificial pentagram.

“I should return to the party, be seen, you know... schmooze.” But I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay, wanted him to sink his teeth into my wrist again, wanted to get hard for him. Because it felt good, not having to hide, not being afraid. That’s why I liked him, I realized. He made me feel safe.

But it was probably just my blood that had him looking at me as though I was next on his menu of delicious morsels to eat.

“Alright, I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything to report,” he said, letting me know I could leave.

“Okay... great.” I backed up, tripped over an exposed beam, righted myself, and smiled at Reynard’s glance. “So I’ll, uhm, see you later.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Great.”

Why was this weird? Was I making it weird? I threw him a little wave, making it more weird, and hurried down the narrow, spiral stairs. I was being ridiculous. Just because he’d sucked on my veins, didn’t make us anything. We had a mutually beneficial agreement—wasn’t that what he’d said? Although, it didn’t feel particularly mutual. He got my blood and I got a hard-on, but no payoff.

I cleared my throat and righted my clothes as I hurried down the corridor. I definitely needed Zee back to keep me from straying too deep into Reynard territory.

The lobby was even busier. Drinks flowed. Reynard’s caterers had provided plates of little nibbles that seemed to be going down well.

“Of course, he won’t be staying here long,” a familiar voice announced so loudly, everyone in the bar heard him over the jukebox. Sebastien. I spotted his wing tips and horns, both gleaming with painted-on rainbow glitter. “He’s mine you know. I discovered him, I own him.”

I veered away, not wanting to get into a fight with Zee’s ex-boss. Typical, he’d show up, trying to muscle in on Zee’s new life—the one he’d chosen, here, with me.

“Ah, Mr. Vex.” Detective Somers greeted, lifting his gaze from the small plate of tasty hors d’oeuvres he was carrying. “Quite the impressive turnout.” He held a thin glass of bubbly drink in his other hand. “And nobody has died. Yet.”

“Oh, Detective, how... great it is that you’re here.” I laughed, hoping I didn’t sound strained.

“It’s pretty damn remarkable what you’re doing here. I’ve never seen Lost Ones packed in so close with humans without a massacre ensuing.”

“Oh, let’s hope there’s no massacre!” I laughed again.

“The night’s still young... You’ve got some blood there.”

“What?” My shirt cuff was all bloody from Reynard’s bite. I hastily folded it up. “Just a little... shaving accident.”

“Right.” He smiled his I-know-what-you’re-up-to-but-can’t-prove-it smile. “The bartender is a character.”

Oh heavens. “Did you get your drink from him?”

He raised his glass toward his lips. “Oh yes, he mentioned the drink was custom made. He called it, now what was it... A Long Walk off a Short Pier.”

I barked a sharp, slightly panicked laugh, grabbed his drink, and dumped it into a nearby potted plant. “Tell him to fix you another one that’s not as custom.” I handed back the empty glass and smiled while he blinked. It may not have been poisoned, but Tom Collins had been listening in when Zee had asked if we had a detective problem. I really needed to find a way to fix him, before he permanently fixed our problematic customers.

The bar lights flickered. The jukebox spluttered, then continued belting out a song. Were our aging electrics playing up, or did we have an extra visitor? One who hadn’t been invited. I hoped Reynard had the shadowbeast in hand. He’d seemed proficient in rituals. He surely knew what he was doing.

I headed back out into the lobby, then out onto the porch, where several groups had opted to stand around and chat outside. The hotel’s windows throbbed with warmth and light, coming alive in the quiet San Francisco night.

Six months ago, I’d been hiding on the fringes of life, fitting in nowhere, running from everything and everyone. Stumbling through Demontown, I’d fallen over a wrecked demon sprawled on the sidewalk. Zodiac. Him and me... we were the same. I hadn’t been beaten and bloody on the outside, but on the inside, I’d been hurting.

Him and me, and the SOS Hotel? We’d saved it, and each other. I was going to save him tonight too.

A black stretch limo turned into the street and crawled to a halt, wheels crunching on grit. Gideon Cain climbed from the back of the car, and buttoned up his jacket as he admired my hotel.

“I love what you’ve done with the place Mr. Vex,” he said, climbing the steps and extending his hand. I’d learned my lesson the first time we’d touched and had no intention of making the mistake again. He dropped his hand, since I wasn’t biting. “Very retro chic.”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“Isn’t everyone welcome? Supernaturally safe for all?”

I folded my arms and leveled him with my most stern glower. “I doubt our world-class wards will even let you in, since you kidnapped my business partner.”

Gideon chuckled and eyed the front doors where people milled freely back and forth, laughing, chatting, having a great time. “That’s a big accusation for a man who lies with his every breath.”

“You should leave.”

“Where’s your vampire bodyguard? I must admit, I did not expect Lord Reynard to be riding your coattails. But then, there’s a great deal of mystery surrounding you, isn’t there Mr. Vex.”

“What do you want, Gideon?”

He finally met my gaze, then shoved his hand into his pocket and removed a slip of paper. I recognized it as a page from the Wilson’s Guide. He slapped the page against my chest and held it there, his touch fizzing against my glamor. I lasted a few seconds, but our conversation was garnering attention I didn’t need or want, so I stepped back, breaking his contact. The page from the guide fluttered to the floor.

“You should have conceded the auction, Mr. Vex. I always get what I want, eventually. You have everything to lose.”

“Get off my steps.”

“Why are you so threatened by my presence?” He snorted, stepping into my personal space. He had the entire porch to stand on, but had to invade my step. “We’re both business men, are we not?”

“I’m not threatened, I...” People were watching, and probably wondering why I hadn’t allowed an upstanding citizen like Gideon Cain to enter the hotel. I couldn’t exactly call him out as a sorcerer, not without risking him exposing whatever he thought he knew about me.

“This little masquerade of yours won’t last the week,” he said under his breath. “Now, where’s the bar? This hotel does have a bar?”

“Uh, yes.” I stepped aside and swept an arm toward the door, inviting him in. “Tom Collins, our bartender, will be delighted to serve you.”

Gideon smiled his broad, gorilla grin, and barged through the doorway. With the entertainment over, the groups went back to tittering and chatting, ignoring me once more.

The wind picked up, trying to whisk the page from the Wilson’s Guide off the step. I stomped on it, pinning it in place, then picked it up.

The wind tried again to rip it from my fingers.

The Prophecy of?—

Scrunching it in my fist, I stuffed it into my jacket pocket and ventured back inside the hotel. But not even its warmth touched the new ice in my veins. Shrill laughter tinkled in the air like bells. The jukebox played, but not loud enough to drown out my thumping heart. A few guests stopped me, thanked me, remarked on how wonderful the hotel was. I smiled, and swallowed every heartbeat.

Gideon was at the bar. Tom Collins winked.

I turned away. Maybe one more little murder wouldn’t hurt? The torn Wilson’s Guide page burned in my pocket, like a smoking gun. I had to get rid of it. Get rid of Gideon. Get rid of everyone. It was too much, what had I been thinking?

“Adam?”

Reynard appeared in front of me. His typically perfect shirt hung askew and his hair was all tousled on one side, as though someone had grabbed at it and given him a shake. This did not bode well. “We have a problem.”

“Of course we do.” I sighed.

Reynard’s arm hooked around my shoulders and guided me off to the side of the room, next to the potted plant I’d earlier poured the detective’s drink into. It’s leaves definitely appeared to be a little more droopy than before the party had begun.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I had it,” Reynard said. “The trap worked perfectly. Better than perfect, actually, your blood is quite the potent draw. Had I known, I might have used more of it... Anyway, I was able to upset it, somewhat.”

“Upset it . . . somewhat?” What had he done, taken its toys away? “I thought you were going to torture it to tell us where Zee is?”

“I was doing exactly that, but then it slipped the noose and—” He cleared his throat. “I lost it.”

“You lost it?” He’d lost the huge, murderous shadowbeast, in my hotel.

“Yes.”

“Lost it where?”

“Adam, you do understand the definition of losing something? It’s lost. Therefore, I do not know where it is.”

“Are you saying it’s somewhere in the hotel?”

“That seems likely. It traverses shadows, so it could be anywhere where the shadows are at their thickest.”

There were shadows everywhere, due to our terrible, outdated lighting. “Oh.” And the bar was packed with a hundred people. More in the lobby, more in the gardens and on the porch, and some likely in their rooms. Plus our staff. The press were here, so was Detective Somers. I could not have anything unfortunate happen with so many judgmental eyes on us.

My gaze snagged on Gideon at the bar, chatting with Tom Collins who had just served him a drink that was, if we were lucky, about to kill him. I winced. “Oh deary.”

“Oh dear doesn’t really cover it, since I made the beast quite angry.”

“You made it angry, and then it escaped... in my hotel.” The same beast that was strong enough to almost crush me and throw Reynard through a window. “You’re the vampire that let it loose.” I prodded his firm chest. “You need to find it again. Can’t you sense it?”

“Well yes, except, the wards are muffling my senses, since I intend to harm it.”

“I can’t lower the wards.”

“It would only need to be for minute. In that minute, I’ll locate it, yank it from the shadows, and trap it again. Then I’ll extract the information of Zodiac’s whereabouts from it.”

That was extremely risky, especially since we were bursting at the seams with people. I leaned in close and whispered, “If I drop the wards, nobody will have any protection.”

“Nobody will know.”

Drop the wards to find the shadowbeast, and find Zee? Wherever Zee was, he was trapped, hurting, possibly dying. He didn’t have long. This was our one shot at finding him. It was just a single minute. I’d already spent three minutes worrying about it. “Alright, let’s find Madame Matase.”

Madame Matase was in her usual place at the reception desk, and was not at all impressed with our idea to drop the wards, considering how busy the hotel was. She tutted at Reynard, who appeared suitably chastised, and then all three of us entered the conference room.

“Where’s the darkest room?” I asked, thinking aloud. The basement probably, which would mean sending Reynard down there.

“Here,” Reynard said. “No windows. The basement and attic have windows, and it’s a clear night. They’ll be letting in moonlight. But this conference room? No natural light at all.”

“Hit the lightswitch,” Madame Matase ordered.

I flicked off the light, and darkness rushed in. Music still thumped from the bar, and the chatter from countless people filtered under the door, but otherwise the room was quiet—my heart the loudest thing. I sensed Madame Matase’s hands moving, unpicking her intricate wards.

“You will have exactly one minute,” she told Reynard. “Are you prepared?”

“Yes.”

He could move fast. Once he sensed the shadowbeast, he’d go after it, capture it again—somehow—and we’d get Zee.

“Alright,” Madame Matase said. I sensed her hands moving, picking apart her tapestry of protection. “Three, two, one. They’re down.”

A shiver passed through me, but I only noticed it because I was looking for it. Nobody else would know. We just had to get through sixty seconds?—

Someone screamed.