Chapter 3

“Missing protestor?”I squeaked.

“Oh yes, didn’t you hear?” She poked at her stiff hairdo. “Perhaps you haven’t yet. I’m sure it’s nothing. Either way, I’m here, and you offered a lengthier interview. There’s no time like the present. How does now sound?”

“Oh, uh, yes, that would be lovely, but I’m quite busy...”

The foyer was empty, apart from the click-clack of Madame Matase’s knitting needles. We had one guest. I was very obviously not busy.

“Let’s sit in the bar, shall we?” She pushed by me and entered the bar, making a beeline for Tom Collins, who would no doubt swear at her. I dashed ahead, and veered toward one of the tables, pulling out a chair. “Why don’t you take a seat? Would you like a drink?” I glanced at the bar, where Tom was drying glasses that hadn’t been used, and Reynard was nowhere in sight. Just his half-finished glass of Bloody Bitch remained. How had he gotten by me? Or had he left the bar another way?

“Oh yes, thank you, I’ll have a water. It’s a little early for alcohol.”

“Is it? Right. Yes. Of course.” I hurried to the bar. “Tom, just a water. Where did Reynard go?” He glared, about to launch into the whole, “I’m not his PA,” rant again. I held up my hand. “Never mind, just the water.”

“One vodka coming up.”

“No. Water, please.”

“Vodka.”

“Water.”

“You’re saying water but I’m hearing vodka.”

“Tom.” I held his gaze. “You know very well what I’m ordering.”

“Does this look like a café? You’ll be asking me for a fucking latte next.”

“You see that journalist over my shoulder? She’s going to write a story about us and this hotel in the paper tomorrow, and I really, really need it to be good. I need you to help me. If you don’t help me—if she writes a terrible article, and nobody comes to the hotel—you, me, and every Lost One under my roof will have nowhere else to go. So please, pick up a glass, put some water in it, and give it to me. Or do I have to come back there and do it myself?”

I stared at Tom without blinking, waiting for the sass. I wasn’t even sure why I was reasoning with him. An AI didn’t care about anything beyond its programming.

Tom finally broke our stare-down, picked up a glass and grabbed a bottle of water, twisted off the top and poured it in. He didn’t even swear while doing it.

“Thank you.”

He grinned, keeping his lips pinned shut.

“See, this is good, this is progress. We are making progress.”

He grumbled something rude while sweeping a cloth across the bar, making it gleam.

“Problems?” Noreen asked.

“Oh no, just some... calibration issues.” I handed over her water and sat at the table. “We’ll get there.”

“I’m sure.” She placed her phone on the table and hit record, but the phone blipped an unhappy noise. “Oh, wait a moment.”

“You uh... There’s some technical interference here, I doubt you’ll be able to use that. Just pen and paper.” I smiled and shifted on the chair, trying to get comfortable.

“Interference?”

“Yes, it’s...” Circling a hand, I searched for the right word that didn’t sound like Lost Ones voodoo. “Thick walls.”

“I see.” She dropped her phone back into her bag and produced a notepad and pen. “So, Mr. Vex?—”

“Just Adam.”

“Adam... What made you, a human, invest in a hotel that offers sanctuary to the dangerous Lost Ones?”

“That’s a common misconception, actually. The Lost Ones are no more dangerous than you are.”

“Is that so?” She scribbled on her pad. “Then why have wards?”

That was a good question. I plucked at my sleeve. “Well, because some can be... difficult sometimes.”

“Difficult?” Her left eyebrow shot up. “But not dangerous?”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you all about Lost Ones, when there are far more qualified people than I who have written many books on the subject. Your readers want to know about the hotel, don’t they?”

“Yes, of course. The hotel.” She leaned back, relaxing some. “You were in a bidding war to purchase the hotel from a retiree, Mrs. Lee. Tell me about that?”

I could definitely do that. “Yes, that’s right. There was another party who wanted the hotel, you see?—”

She checked her notepad. “Gideon Cain, of Cain Developments?”

She was well informed. “Yes. That’s him, and well, what can I say? It was an auction, and Mr. Cain was outbid?—”

“That’s not what my source tells me. Apparently Mr. Cain offered a vast sum of money for the run-down hotel. Far over what the land was worth, and forgive me, more than you and Zodiac—your porn-star business partner—appear to be able to afford. Yet Mrs. Lee chose to sell to you? Why is that?”

“I suppose she liked me?” She had been a very sweet old lady. We’d bonded over our love of cats. She had ten, and I collected cat figurines.

“She liked you so much, she accepted a bid of several million below Mr. Cain’s?”

These were some very pointed questions. Almost less like an interview, and more like an interrogation. “It’s not always about money.”

“Did you know, Mrs. Lee has not been seen since she sold the hotel to you?”

I blinked. “Oh, no, I didn’t. Perhaps she used the money to go on vacation?”

“She’s ninety-three years old.”

“Old people vacation too, Mrs. Greene.”

“Gideon Cain has hinted he might sue.”

I blinked again. “Sue who?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“He believes the sale was illegally agreed through coercive means. You have to admit it’s strange. Why did Mrs. Lee sell to someone she’d never met before, for vastly below the highest bid? Perhaps you applied some external pressure?”

“Are you suggesting I bullied a sweet old lady into selling the hotel to me?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m looking at the facts. Where did you get the money to buy this hotel, Mr. Vex? No job, no social media presence. Before six months ago, you didn’t exist. How does a man like you, with few financial means, throw down a few million for prime San Francisco land?”

“Well, there’s Zee—Zodiac. Sex sells, or so he insists on telling me every moment he can.”

“Not to the tune of five million, Mr. Vex.”

“I supplied the additional funds,” Reynard said, emerging from the shadows where he’d apparently been lurking this whole time. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

“Uh, well, not?—”

Reynard’s solid hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed, his intention to silence me clear. I stared up his lean, suit-clad body at his dignified expression. And while I didn’t much like being silenced, I couldn’t argue that his intervention wasn’t welcome. Noreen’s questions had definitely wandered from their original jovial tone into something else completely.

“So you see, it really was a fair transaction. Gideon Cain was merely outbid, and appears to be sore about his loss,” Reynard explained.

“Lord Reynard, I didn’t realize you were a joint owner in this venture. Is your investment public record?

“I’m a silent partner. Isn’t that right, Adam?”

I couldn’t argue with him in front of a reporter, not without this entire meeting turning into a PR fiasco. “Uh... yes?”

“Well then, I have to ask myself why a man who controls a vast tech empire purchases a run-down hotel with a man who has no hospitality experience, that I can find, and an incubus porn star, when everyone knows Lost Ones of your persuasion don’t get along with demons.”

“You may ask yourself anything you like,” Reynard said, his hand still fixed on my shoulder.

“I will.” Noreen smirked back.

“Did Gideon Cain send you, Noreen?” Reynard asked.

Noreen stared back at Reynard, unblinking, and Reynard stared down at her as though she was nothing but a spec of dirt under his polished shoes.

I hadn’t considered that Noreen might have had other motives for the interview. Cain had tried to purchase the hotel several times since I’d won it at auction, each time his offers becoming more and more outrageous. Perhaps he’d decided to apply a different kind of pressure to get what he wanted?

“I have everything I need.” Noreen dropped her notepad back into her bag and gathered her things. “Thank you both for your time.”

I moved to stand when Reynard’s hand pushed me back into the seat.

“It’s been a delight,” Reynard said, sounding as though he’d rather lick razor blades.

“Good day... Both of you. And good luck. You’re going to need it.” She headed for the door, and while I was trapped in the chair I waited for her to leave, heart pounding. “Oh, and Lord Reynard.” She turned, all cocked hip and sly expression. “Hiding out here won’t stop them from coming for you.”

The door clanged shut behind her, leaving Reynard and I in the soft quiet of the bar. The silence thickened, coming down on us like his hand on my shoulder, and as much as I liked it there, I definitely did not appreciate being shoved to the side of the conversation when it came to my hotel. A hotel Zee and I owned, and Lord Reynard had no claim over, other than being a guest. For one night.

Noreen could, and probably would dig around in the records, looking for the documents to back up Reynard’s lies—but of course, there wouldn’t be any. A woman like her wasn’t going to let that go. He may have just made everything worse. But at least she was gone for today.

“Why did you do that?”

He removed his hand and lifted his chin. “I’d like to extend my stay.”

“You’re welcome to, if you answer my question.”

“Adam.” Here came that sideways glance. “You were clearly in a tight spot. I merely wish to help.”

I was beginning to get the impression his help wasn’t altruistic. He wanted something. “She has a point you know, why are you getting involved?”

He turned his attention to the closed door again. “As Mrs. Greene mentioned, there are some external forces who I’d like to avoid. That is what this hotel is for, no? A sanctuary. Guaranteed a safe stay?”

It was. I just hadn’t expected someone like him to ever need it. Didn’t he have countless bodyguards? Couldn’t he hire his own ward weavers? That seemed easier and more discreet than slumming it here. No, there was another reason why someone of his stature was determined to stay. But as I had several other problems to deal with, the mystery of the suave vampire would have to wait.

I bid Lord Reynard a good day—keeping my tone cool, so he at least knew while I was grateful he’d stepped in, I had reservations—and left the bar. If he assumed I was weak, and thought he could march all over me in those fine shoes, he’d soon learn his mistake.

A pair of guests stood at the reception desk, and while I itched to swoop in and introduce myself, Madame Matase had them chatting, and I didn’t want to interrupt her flow, so I veered away. She winked at me as the guests entered their names into the hotel register.

That was some good news I’d sorely needed. I’d begun to wonder if Reynard might be my only guest, and as delectable as he was, I did not need to get any more tangled up in all that witheverything else happening.

I visited the top floor and checked Reynard’s room. Whatever Zee had done, there was nothing to suggest a body had bled out on the floor several hours ago. No blood, no lingering smell, and the ruined carpet was spotless once more. He clearly had more talents than selling himself by the hour, but telling a lust demon they had potential was the same as telling a dog he didn’t have to bark.

Hours ticked by. The protestors had moved off, and now the furor had died down outside, the police had moved on too. The hotel had survived its first day with only one murder, had narrowly avoided the suspicions of a journalist who might be working for a real estate developer, and now housed a vampire of questionable motives.

It could have been worse.

As I made it to the bar for the evening, Tom Collins had a drink waiting, and since nobody was crying at the bar and there were people seated at the tables, he must have been doing something right. I tipped my glass at him, then took up a quiet little corner to sit and look up vampires in the Wilson’s Supernatural Guide. Vampires had a strict hierarchy and followed family traditions with religious fervor. Their society was based off the class system, with the queen at the top, dukes and barons under her. Since the queen hadn’t ventured into this world when the veil had weakened, any vampires trapped on this side had been cut off from their home, but most retained their societal rules.

I skipped a bunch of history and went straight to the potential issues section, where it listed vampiric abilities. I’d been right. They did have persuasion skills, able to tune in to their prey’s emotions and tweak them, in a similar way to how demons took advantage of a human’s needs and desires. The wards would prevent Reynard from manipulating anyone, but outside the hotel he was likely to be extremely powerful. Which made it seem stranger still that he’d choose to stay in a place that weakened him.

“What’s this?” Zee said, blasting into the bar in a snap of static. He slammed a printed piece of paper onto the table in front of me. “We’re not open a day and you’re already replacing me?”

“What?” I picked up the printed article from the San Francisco Post’s website.

Tech Billionaire Invests in Lost Cause.

“Lost cause is harsh,” I muttered, buying seconds to think of how to explain that I’d let Reynard walk all over me.

Zee folded his arms and lashed his tail. His eyes, usually forgiving, had narrowed to slits. Their dark pupils were as thin as daggers too. Fury made the veins in his wings sparkle. It was easy to forget Zee could be vicious, but with his seven feet—including horns—towering over me, and his wings spread, I might have been a little concerned.

“It’s not like that.”

“Right.” Sharp teeth snapped the word.

“It was a difficult situation and he stepped in. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Demon!” The voice was Reynard’s but it came from everywhere, all at once. My heart dropped. I knew what was coming—it had been inevitable. A liquid blur shot from the dark and slammed into Zee like a wrecking ball. Then the wards kicked in, tearing them from each other. Reynard fell against the bar. Zee sprawled on the floor. Both of them clutched their heads.

I shot from the chair and reached for Zee, to help him up.

“Don’t touch me.” He shoved me off, staggered to his feet and flapped out his wings, raining sparks. His lips rippled in a snarl. “I thought you were different.”

“Zee, wait?—”

His lips turned down and he gave his head a shake, making his two-tone hair ruffle about his horns. As he turned his back, he vanished in a blast of sparks.

The other guests in the bar stared, but I barely saw them.

Zee thought I’d used him, because everyone used him.

My throat burned, gut churning. I would never use Zee, and it hurt that he believed I could.

This was Reynard’s fault. I spun, and met the vampire’s glare as he straightened, realigning his suit. At least he had the presence of mind to grimace, knowing he was to blame. We had an audience, and I did not need any more drama in the hotel than we’d already had.

I swallowed the less than polite rant that had been on my lips. “You are quickly outstaying your welcome, and my patience. Attempt to touch Zee again and you will regret it.”

I left the bar, grabbed my coat from the cloakroom, and headed outside. I had to find Zee and apologize before this boiled out of control.

Unfortunately, I knew exactly where he’d be.