Chapter 6

The day passed without incident.Reynard was absent, probably busy running his tech empire, which begged the same question—why was he staying at our hotel, when he surely had a luxury bed at home to crawl into after a long, hard day’s work? Did he have a partner to snuggle with? He didn’t seem the snuggling sort. Kids? Did vampires have kids, or did they infect each other with vampirism? Pets, then? I needed to check the Wilson’s Guide again, and focus.

A few minor problems kept me busy. Several tasks I’d asked Claymore to do hadn’t been done, including setting the gremlin traps in the attic. While up there—among the shadows, stacks of storage boxes, and cobwebs—I took a few minutes to stop at Zee’s perch, and peer out the window over San Francisco bay. I could see why he liked it up there, the view was stunning with the iconic Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

Returning to the main hotel, I searched for Claymore. As a shy gargoyle, he usually lurked in the basement during the day, preferring to emerge at night to patrol the grounds. But he wasn’t there, and when I asked a few of the staff, nobody had seen him since the previous day. As a six-foot-tall, muscle-bound gargoyle, he was generally hard to miss.

As the evening drew in, I found Zee in the bar, hammering and clanging, putting together what appeared to be a stage he’d found somewhere. He mentioned he’d printed Noreen’s article, and left me to read it as he went back to fixing the stage boards in place.

Noreen’s article dismissed the SOS Hotel as a folly that was doomed to fail, despite the plucky, na?ve human manager—me. Zee had been mentioned in passing as the ex-porn star, but most of the page had been dedicated to why Lord Victor Reynard would invest in such an obvious lost cause. Noreen asked the question as to whether he was taking on charity cases to clean the stains from his past.

What stains could those be? Vampires generally got a bad rep, since Hollywood had made them out to be vicious, blood-hungry zombies, or romantic emo teenagers. The truth, I figured, was probably nothing like those stereotypes.

Noreen went on to describe the vampire nobility ranks, baron being pretty low on the food chain, which was probably why he chose to go by Lord. But just as the details were getting juicy, the ink had faded on Zee’s printer, and the rest of the article had faded away.

“I’ll tell you all you want to know, you merely have to ask.”

Reynard’s smooth, articulate voice was made for radio, and announced his arrival by stroking some inner, hungry part of me, long before he sat in the opposite seat at my table. Mercy, he seemed to get more handsome every time I laid eyes on him. How did he keep his hair so smooth and straight? Maybe it was L’Oréal? Since he was definitely worth it.

“Hit the Road Jack” came on the jukebox, and a glance revealed Zee there, tail twitching, pretending he hadn’t noticed Reynard’s return.

“Do you like my gift, Adam?” He didn’t look over at the jukebox, also preferring to ignore the existence of the angry demon, and instead settled his silvery-eyed gaze on me. When Reynard looked at you, he made it seem as though nothing else existed. Just him and me, in this singular moment. And I was trapped, fixed in place, while that penetrating gaze rummaged around in my soul.

I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact. “It’s... very nice. Thank you.”

“But?”

There were so many buts. I didn’t want to appear rude, but... “If you’re going to stay here, you must accept that Zee is joint owner in this hotel, and while you clearly don’t like demons, this is half his house too.” My heart began to pound under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. “And while we’re laying some ground rules, of course your gift is graciously accepted, providing there are no hidden motives behind your gifting it. Are there?”

His lips gradually lifted in a smile. “It’s as though you do not trust me, Adam.”

“It’s nothing personal. I don’t trust anyone.” Except Zee.

“And why is that?”

“Well, it’s just...” I teased a SOS Hotel cardboard drinks coaster between my fingers, keeping my eyes downcast so he couldn’t read them. “That’s just the way I am.”

“Intriguing.”

Was I? I thought I was the least intriguing thing in the hotel. I tried to be. But the way Reynard was looking at me, through me, trying to figure me out, suggested I needed to work a little harder at being average.

There was nothing to figure out.

I was just Adam.

“Is that a . . . pole?” Reynard asked.

I looked up, and sure enough, Zee had finished installing the floor to ceiling, shiny silver pole.

“It’s art,” Zodiac said, strutting up to our table. His hand rested on the back of my chair and his wings spread, claiming his space, with me inside of it.

“As you say, demon.” Reynard kept his smile pinned to his face.

Zee grinned back. “Stay and watch, maybe you’ll fucking learn something?”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

Zee’s smile faltered some. Invisible electric tension sizzled between us, the wards firing up, ready to slap them both down should either of them act on their murderous impulses.

I sucked in a deep breath and loudly cleared my throat.

Reynard slow-blinked and rose gracefully from the chair. “Good evening, Adam.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, and snarled. “Demon.”

Zee smiled, and waited until he strode halfway across the bar before saying, “Fuck you too.”

Reynard probably heard. I’d read in the guide how vampires could hear a pin drop from a mile away.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” I said. “Nobody attacked anyone. I’d say that’s progress.”

“The day he sets foot in Runo is the day that vampire gets his ass handed to him.” The way Zee’s glare narrowed to pin-sharp slits suggested he didn’t mean in the fun way. But what happened outside the SOS Hotel was not my concern, although Zee’s safety was. Hopefully he’d cool off, and I doubted Reynard would so much as glance at Runo. There was no way a creature of poise, grace, and professionalism would venture into Demontown.

“Adam? Adam!” Madame Matase glided over, her all-black gown rippling around her ankles like oil. She checked nobody was within earshot, and whispered, “The police are here.”

Zee blinked. “Fuck.”

“Now?”

“Yes, a Detective Somers, from the SFPD Special Dept. He’s asked to speak with you.”

“Did he bring a warrant?” Zee asked, hackles rising. “He can’t search the hotel without a warrant.”

“It’s fine, Zee. There’s nothing to worry about. We haven’t done anything illegal.” I stood and caught Zee’s slightly alarmed face. Of course, there was the dead body he’d disposed of, but we hadn’t killed that person, just hidden the evidence.

I walked with Madame Matase and met the detective in the lobby. A short man, with close-set eyes and a neck so thick, he likely worked out when he wasn’t policing. Maybe he had some gargoyle in his family.

“Let’s go into the conference room,” I told him, after we’d exchanged greetings. The conference room wasn’t much more than a plain, dull, dark room with a large table and mismatched chairs. We’d sort of forgotten about it during the renovations, since not many Lost Ones had conferences, or meetings. We sat, and the detective brought out a clipboard with a form attached, clearly prepared for our analogue ambience. “A few obligatory tick boxes before we begin,” he said, then clicked his pen. “Are you of sane mind and will, Mr. Vex?”

“Uh, I suppose?”

Those narrow eyes flicked up. “You’re not being coerced by the Lost Ones in any way?”

“Not that I know of. But strictly speaking, I wouldn’t actually know if I were being... coerced.” He raised an impatient eyebrow, and I smiled a helpful smile. “No, I’m not being coerced in any way by any Lost Ones.”

“You have wards here that protect against violence?”

“Yes.”

“Your ward weaver is licensed?”

“Yes. Madame Matase is all above board.”

“Gypsy, that correct?”

“I think the correct term is Romani. The Romani people have a long history of helping Lost Ones.”

“Right. But I’m not here for a history lesson.” He scribbled some more. “Those wards don’t influence your guests in any other way?” he asked.

“Oh no, just protection wards, nothing untoward.”

“And you, Mr. Vex, are one hundred percent human?”

“What?” I blinked.

Detective Somers sat back in his chair and sighed. “You’re wholly human... not a half breed, or a sorcerer, demon, or something that looks human but isn’t?”

“Why?” That seemed like a personal question.

“It’s just routine admin. If you’re not human, then I can’t interview you, and we need to get the Supe Specials in.” He waved his pen around. “Lots of aggravation, very dramatic, but it protects the both of us from their lies.”

“I am absolutely human.” I grinned, and swallowed my thumping heart.

“That’s great, sign here.”

I scribbled on his form. He flipped it over, and readied the pen above a long list of questions.

“So what’s this about, Detective?”

“We have a missing person who was last seen protesting outside your hotel. Have you see this man?” He held out a photograph, of a smiling young man posing with a happy Labrador. Very different to how I’d seen him face down on the floor. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You didn’t happen to notice him outside the hotel yesterday?”

“I was very busy with the opening, you see? And the protestors all looked the same. I try not to get involved in all that, considering my clientele.”

“Lost Ones.” He leaned back, and smiled a friendly smile. “How’s that working out for you?”

I kept my smile, but in my head, I couldn’t seem to silence the playback of “Hit the Road Jack” thanks to Zee selecting it on the jukebox earlier. “They’re keeping me on my toes, that’s for sure.”

He chuckled along, as though we were pals. “You’re an interesting one, Mr. Vex. Where did you live before coming to San Francisco six months ago?”

“Oh you know, I traveled here and there, all over really.”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Europe.”

“What part of Europe?”

“Eastern Europe.”

“And if I look you up on the Interpol database, you’ll be registered in what part of Europe exactly?”

“Who was the missing man? What’s his name? His picture seems nice.”

“Don’t you mean who is the missing man? As he’s still missing. Unless you know something I don’t?”

“That’s what I said.” Goodness, this was getting tense.

He smiled. Blinked. “His name is Jacob Reese.”

“Reese, like the candy.”

“Yes, Mr. Vex, just like the candy.”

“Maybe you should ask some of the religious contingent in the crowd,” I suggested. “They were getting spirited. Perhaps they know where he went?”

He pointed his pen at me. “That’s a good idea. You should be a detective, Mr. Vex.”

“Oh no,” I laughed. “I’m happy being a hotel manager.”

“I’m sure you are.”

What was that supposed to mean, and why did his smile look hungry?

“It’s a mystery isn’t it,” he said, no longer so jovial and friendly. In fact, he looked at me now like Reynard had, as though I was a riddle to be solved.

“I’m sure you’ll solve where Mr. Reese went,” I said.

“No, I mean you. Did you know half the Lost Ones, when polled, consider humans beneath them? A fifth consider humans to be prey. Did you know that? When they’re not hunting us, they hunt each other?—”

“We have a strict No Bounty Hunter policy here.”

“Of course you do, you’ve thought of everything.”

That didn’t sound like praise, and I wasn’t sure if Detective Somers was as nice as he’d first made himself out to be.

“This hotel is a sanctuary, isn’t that right?” he asked.

“That’s correct... for all Lost Ones. We don’t turn anyone away, unlike most hotels in the region.”

He nodded, making an agreeable noise. “What are you hiding from, Adam Vex?”

I laughed. “Me? Hiding? I’m not hiding. If I were hiding, would I open a very controversial hotel? That would be insane. Why would I do that?”

“Right.” He laughed along with me. “Why would you?”

“Oh, look at the time.” I glanced at my wrist, but wasn’t wearing a watch. “Well, I must get back to work. It’s been nice meeting you. If we can help with Mr. Reese’s whereabouts, please let me know.” I slapped my thighs and stood. “No rest for the wicked.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Vex, and good luck with your venture.” He followed me out the door and into the brightly lit, surprisingly bustling lobby. “Oh, one more thing.” He stopped halfway toward the main door and turned on his heel, finger raised in question.

“Yes?”

“Zodiac, your business partner... He worked at the Razorsedge?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“It’s not my department, but three demons were found slaughtered near the club just last night. Gruesome stuff. Quite violent apparently.”

“Well, that’s Demontown for you.” Oh dear. “It’s why we have wards. Good day, Detective—” I turned away.

“I heard about it, see, since Zodiac works there.”

“How... terrible.” Facing him again, I offered a sympathetic smile. “But Zodiac doesn’t work there anymore.”

“That’s right. Just a coincidence, I suppose.”

“They happen all the time, Detective.”

“Where was Zodiac last night, Mr. Vex?”

I hadn’t found him, but he also definitely had not been responsible for three dead demons near Razorsedge, which was clearly what this detective was implying. I cleared my throat and glanced around. We had an audience—some staff members, a few guests. While they weren’t overtly listening, they also couldn’t not listen, since the detective had chosen this very public place to ask his final questions.

“He was with me,” I said, knowing exactly how it sounded.

“I see.” He smiled, pleased with himself now he’d gotten something out of me, even if it had nothing to do with his missing person. “All night?”

“All night. Good evening, Detective.” I turned my back on him and headed into the bar.

Tom Collins saw my face and poured my usual before I’d reached him. I sat, and downed the whiskey in a single, burning gulp.

“What did he say?” Zee asked, appearing to my left.

“Give me a minute.” I just needed a few moments to calm my racing heart. Tom refilled my glass, and down it went. As I held it out for a third time, Zee covered it with his hand and shook his head at Tom, sending the bartender away.

“Do we have a detective problem?” he asked quietly. When Zee said anything quietly, it was usually a veiled threat. I knew what he was asking, but the last thing we needed was more murders.

“No. It’s fine.” The detective hadn’t had any evidence, and hadn’t arrested anyone. “He’s just poking around, seeing what falls out.”

Zee removed his hand from my glass and leaned back, propping both elbows on the bar behind him. We stayed there, quietly, side by side, as the bar buzzed around us. When it mattered, Zee knew when to be quiet. Lust demons were attuned to the emotions of others, since that was how he fed. He could probably taste my anxiety.

Part of me wanted to drink whiskey until all my thoughts blurred. But that was just another way of hiding. And hiding was all I seemed to be good at...

Hiding in the spotlight.

“Are we doing the right thing?” I asked, thinking aloud.

Zee looked over. “Meaning?”

“The hotel. All of it. Am I crazy?”

He snorted. “I thought you were when you stopped that night instead of walking over me like everyone else. Stupid human in the wrong place, wrong fucking time, I thought. But here we are, and I like the view, don’t you?”

Twisting on the stool, I followed his gaze. The jukebox was playing. People—Lost Ones and humans alike—were laughing, drinking, chatting. A couple of demons, a gargoyle with a slim, reedy fae leaning against him, the two of them clearly an item. A few unidentified Lost Ones, not willing to drop their glamor. Nobody was fighting, but more importantly, nobody was scared, and they all wanted to be here. In this safe place.

Maybe we really were doing a good thing, and maybe it was worth it.

Zee’s smile grew, showing a hint of sharp teeth.

I smiled back, glad he was here. I couldn’t have opened the hotel alone. “Oh uh, by the way, if anyone asks, you were with me last night.”

His eyebrows pinched together and his smile tilted sideways. “I know.”

“All night.”

He held my gaze, assessing what I was really asking. I was his alibi, and he was mine.

“Most everyone in the lobby heard, so they all think we’re . . . you know . . .”

“Fucking? Say it, you can say it, you won’t combust. Say fuck.” He pinched his lower lip between his teeth and whined, “Please.”

“In a relationship,” I said, each word perfectly precise.

“Kitten, I’ve been in a relationship with you since you scraped me off the fucking sidewalk.”

Which he clearly believed was fine, but wasn’t. “Zee, c’mon, you don’t owe me anything for helping you. We made a deal to get this hotel up and running—we’re equals.”

“Call it what you like, but I owe you a life debt, and until it’s paid you own me. I’m just waiting for you to wake up and realize it.”

A life debt? That sounded... serious. “That’s not what this is.”

Zee waved Tom over. “Lover, all demons are owned. If it’s not you, then it’s...” He trailed off, glanced over to see if I’d noticed, then laughed into the drink Tom had handed him “Never mind. Wanna see me fuck a pole?”

I spluttered a laugh. “You are keeping your clothes on, right? And you’re not actually... going to...” I waved a hand, grasping at words. “Have intercourse with a pole?”

“Maybe. It’ll be fucking exciting while we find out.”

He wasn’t... I didn’t think so, anyway. Hopefully not. We had a reputation to uphold, and alright, it wasn’t a great reputation, but we had some standards. Really low ones.

“Do me a favor, Adam?”

“Sure,” I said, probably too flippantly.

His tail stroked up my arm as he leaned in, shrinking my world around his dazzling smile and brilliant eyes. “You see that pole?” I did see the gleaming pole. “Imagine that pole is you. Just Adam Vex, standing right there. And watch.” He peeled himself away, and sashayed toward the stage. The jacket went, draped over a nearby chair, and as he stepped onto the stage, the lights dimmed.

“There’s no way anyone in here is ready for this,” Tom grumbled.

The jukebox fell silent, and I don’t know how Zee did it, but when the music blasted to life again, so did the lights. And there he was, clad in his skinny waistcoat, black leather pants riding low on his hips, heeled boots laced up to the knee—and he began to dance.

What had I been expecting?

A simple routine, maybe. A few minutes of fun. But Zee turned himself into liquid sex, and worshipped that pole as though it were his whole reason for living. I hadn’t even known a body could move like that, hips and legs in glorious, fluid motion, spinning around the pole like water down a drain. I did what he said and imaged I was there with him, but that very quickly had my heart pounding, along with other insistent parts of me.

And this was why I didn’t indulge in watching his movies.

“It’s not a bad thing to want someone,” Tom said, leaning an arm on the bar while watching Zee’s performance.

I looked up from my drink, and studied the artificial bartender. “Is that part of your script?”

“Does it matter?”

Huffing a laugh, I circled my finger around the rim of my glass. “It’s not the wanting him, it’s the can’t have him part.”

“Why not? He’s obviously into you.”

“Everything I say to you, stays between us, right? You don’t share secrets, you just hear them? That’s part of your package?”

“That’s right.” Tom beamed. “The best listener your cheap ass could buy.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered. Then looked over and caught Zee’s gaze spearing into me, pinning me to the stool, as he rose from a crouch and bent his body in a silky, wave-like motion, that left no doubt how the arrow tattooed on his hip would absolutely keep its promises. “It’s complicated,” I told Tom. “So, so complicated.”

“Is it though? Or is that your head getting in the way of your heart?”

I blinked at him. “You’re actually not bad at this.”

“You want to know what I see?”

“Alright.”

“Two consenting adults and a whole lot of unresolved sexual tension. It wouldn’t hurt either of you to blow off some steam, might even help relax you, allow you to focus once you’ve got it out of your system. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t want to get it outof my system. I’m not like that.”

“Ah, and you believe Zodiac is? You think he’ll drop you faster than a hot rock once he’s tapped that?” Tom raked his gaze over me. “Valid point. I doubt he’s looking for a long-term, stable, happy-ever-after.“

“It’s not even that. I am capable of frivolous things too, I just... I’m scared to feel again.”

Tom eyed me cautiously. “Been keeping people at a distance for a while, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Zee’s dance ended, and the stage lights darkened to a single spotlight. He bowed, and the bar customers went wild. All that, and he hadn’t taken any more of his clothes off.

The spotlight went out, Zee vanished, then poofed onto the stool beside me. Flushed with heat, he sweated some, and his hair clung to his face, horns and neck. “You wanna fuck me now, Kitten?” he purred, reaching for the drink Tom had poured for him.

I opened my mouth to say the usual line about being business partners, when Tom’s glance caught my own, and the words stalled on my lips.

Zee was chuckling, then rapidly stopped chuckling and looked over. His smile fell away, then bloomed back as he slipped off the stool and plastered himself to my side. His tail came around and stroked up my back. “Tell me to stop, or I won’t, and then we’re both fucked.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop?”

His hand skimmed my jaw, tilted my chin up, and everyone in the bar must have seen how there was nothing separating us, and how he peered into my eyes. Tension sizzled between us. A need we both had, that threatened to boil over. “I didn’t think that would work.”

As though I was just another trick to turn, another man to screw, another hill to climb.

“And there it is—the doubt in your eyes dashing my dreams.” He laughed and dropped back onto the stool. “So close.” He very clearly adjusted his pants, bared his teeth in a snarl at his drink, then downed the contents of the glass.

The crazy thing was, I wanted him—was hard for him—wanted nothing more than for him to follow me to my room, where we’d taste each other as only lovers could. But Zee was... Zee. And I was just me. And a lie. It would be wrong.

He pushed from the stool. “I’ll see you in the morning, Adam.” He headed for the bar door, waylaid by a few new fans who told him how wonderful, beautiful, fabulous he was. I should have been saying those things. I believed them. So, why wasn’t I?

“Your lover’s leaving,” Tom reminded me.

He was. And if I let him, we were destined to do this dance around each other forever. Was my head getting in the way of my heart? Did it even matter? “Zee, wait.” I hurried out the door after him, closing the distance across the lobby, and dashed into the elevator just as the doors closed.

He arched an eyebrow. “We have to stop fucking meeting like this or people will?—”

I kissed him. It happened so fast. One second I was watching his soft, glossy mouth form words, and then I was kissing it, with my hands on his face and my body hard against his. He froze for half a heartbeat, then shattered, and shoved me against the elevator panel, kissing my breath away.

He tasted better than I’d imagined, sweet and spicy. I wanted more of him, wanted all of him. Wanted to devour him. Now. Immediately. In this elevator. I wanted to fuck and be fucked. His hand swept up my waist, dragging my shirt with it, exposing my middle to cooler air. A thousand little voices said this was wrong, but that also made it so right. I just wanted one thing, one moment in time to call my own, to indulge, to be free. And I wanted it with Zee’s hands on me, his mouth scorching my skin, his nails dragging, cock deep inside. Oh mercy?—

The elevator wires clanged, the carriage jolted, startling both of us. The carriage clattered on but Zee broke the kiss, bumping his forehead against mine, his face oddly solemn despite his smile. I had his waistcoat scrunched in my fists and a leg around his. We’d only been this close once before—in my bed, that very morning. Had this collision been inevitable?

“You don’t want this,” he said.

“I do,” I mewed. I wanted it so bad I was about to tear myself apart to get him. In three seconds I’d beg, and neither of us wanted to see that.

His brilliant purple eyes sparkled. “Did you want to fuck me in this elevator before I pole-danced?”

“No, but that was then.” And why were we talking? Why weren’t we tearing our clothes off? It had been so long since I’d had someone to hold, someone to pleasure, I was going to lose my damned mind if I didn’t get him in all the ways my sex-starved body craved.

He dragged a nail down my cheek. “You’re human, and I just put on a show designed to enthrall every human watching, including you.”

“What?” I freed his waistcoat. “You can’t enthrall me. The wards?—”

“The wards have loopholes.” He stepped back, and his wings folded behind him, making him smaller. “Consent.” He swept a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders, his body a symphony of masculinity. “They activate if the intention is to cause harm. I’m not harming anyone, and they were all there of their own free will, watching me because they wanted to. I’m just putting on a show, to get off on their thrill—and yours. I’m sorry. I... It’s fucked. I’m fucked up. I should have warned you. I didn’t, because I’m a selfish fucking asshole and I wanted to taste your lust—which is a thousand times hotter than I thought it would be, like a fucking drug I’m a slave for—and now I feel like shit for making you want me. Which never happens, by the fucking way. I don’t get regretful, and I don’t do guilt. I don’t do... friends. So it’s best you go to your room, I go to mine, and tomorrow we’ll pretend this did not fucking happen.”

The elevator doors rumbled open and he couldn’t have left any quicker if he’d poofed away.

I stared after him, buzzing but numb, except for my ragingly hard dick.

The elevator door tried to close. I thrust out a hand, holding it back, and watched my Zodiac—body buzzing, heart pounding, cock hard—until he turned the hallway corner and vanished.

He was wrong. Wrong about everything. But mostly, wrong about me. He couldn’t enthrall me. It wasn’t possible.

Because I wasn’t human, and never had been.

And he could never know.