Chapter 17

We leftReynard sleeping off the tranquilizer in his room, changed our clothes, and hurried down to the bar.

Zee set about fixing Basic Tom's arm, while I tried to research djinn in the Wilson's Guide but "someone" had torn out the D's. My vague past knowledge extended to knowing that djinn were mischievous beings who were rooted to an object, like a hermit crab and its shell. If Tom was a djinn, then he was a living being, and not an AI. But how had he gotten inside a Tom Collins bartender unit?

We knew all of this could be traced back to Gideon Cain. What if he'd put the djinn there? Sorcerers could control incorporeal beings, like Shadow—and djinns. In all likelihood, Tom had no memory of his true form.

I'd need to do more research, and make sure I was right before breaking the news to him. It's not every day you're told you're not the thing you thought you were, and might even have a life somewhere outside the SOS Hotel bar.

"We good to go?" Zee twirled the wrench in his hand. He'd changed out of his armor and hat while I'd ditched my wet clothes for some loose sweats and a baggy top. Now, Zee wore a bright red, skin-tight top that proclaimed, Stop Staring at My Cock, with a cartoon cockerel on it.

Basic Tom looked ready, now he had his arm back. Now all we had to do was turn him on, and he'd have his bot body back.

I grabbed the shotgun, loaded it with a ch-chunk, and shouldered it, with both barrels pointed at Tom. Just in case the wards didn't work. "Okay."

Zee ducked behind the bar and flicked the switch.

The bot shivered. Its torso shifted, the shoulders rolled back, and Tom lifted his head. The liquid way it moved made it a hundred times more lifelike than Basic Tom, but we had to be sure.

Tom Collins lifted his chin, frowned, saw me with double barrels shoved in his face, and thumbed over his shoulder. "What does the fucking sign say?"

"Uh . . ."

"You can read?"

"Don't argue with the bartender?"

Both Tom's eyebrows lifted. "Correct. Put down the shotgun. You're embarrassing yourself."

Tom was back! I lowered the gun, cracked it open, and placed it safely on the bar. "Welcome back."

He tutted. "I see you've made an absolute mess of my bar. What were you thinking? Who put the fine spirits in with the single malts, and why is there broken glass all over the floor?"

"That was Lord Fancy Pants," Zee said, perching on the stool next to mine. "You should definitely yell at him. Line up my poison, Tom. I am in need of all the alcoholic therapy."

"Very good, Zodiac. Actual poison or the tourist type?—"

"Depends, what specials have you got back there? You know what? I don't fucking care. I trust you. Just so long as I can see straight tomorrow, we're good. Tom Collins, do your fucking worst."

"My worst?" Tom Collins said with a gleam in his eye.

Oh dear.

I'd forgotten to check for Tom's stash of drugs with everything else going on. "I'll have a whiskey, Tom. No extra ingredients."

"Coming right up."

We watched Tom shuffle some bottles around, putting everything back in its proper place. He hummed, and the opening bars of "Hotel California" came on the jukebox, completing his tune. That couldn't be a coincidence. I arched a questioning eyebrow at Zee, who grinned.

"Our Tom Collins is the best Tom Collins," Zee said.

Tom placed a multicolored steaming cocktail in front of Zee.

"What's this one called?" Zee asked.

"Fuck Around and Find Out."

"I fucking will."

Tom slid my whiskey to me on a SOS Hotel coaster. "Your whiskey, sir."

"Thank you, Tom." I caught and held Tom Collins's gaze, where a glint of something other shimmered.

"You're welcome, Adam. That one is on the house, as you were kind enough to save me from a sticky situation. Order more, and you'll have to pay like everyone else. No freeloaders."

"Of course." I bracketed my hands around the glass, and paused to absorb the moment. Zee was safe beside me, Tom was back behind the bar, and the jukebox played. This was what winning felt like, and it feal really good. "Do you remember anything?'

He tilted his head, clearly thinking. "I was serving drinks here and in a blink, I was in a cosmetics lab with you and the glamorous but vicious fae. Nothing in between."

"You don't recall ever meeting Gideon Cain prior to our opening party?"

"No. And I'd fucking remember that, if I had."

"Do you remember anything from before I switched you on here, at the hotel?"

"There is only cold, dark emptiness. A void, if you will." He visibly shivered. "A place I have no wish to revisit."

Would an AI remember anything of before? Would a djinn, if Gideon had torn it from its home? There was still a lot we didn't understand, and unfortunately it was Gideon Cain who had the answers.

"I, for one, am fucking happy to have you back, Tom." Zee chinked his fancy drink with my plain ol' whiskey. "To the SOS Hotel, the best fucking management, and the best barman ever."

"Indeed," Tom agreed, smiling with pride. "I suppose you are worthy managers, after all."

Zee threw back his cocktail in one, which was asking for trouble. I sipped my whiskey, enjoying its warmth. It was the same whiskey I always had, from the same bottle Reynard had used, but Tom had a way of making it special. It was probably best not to ask how.

Zee's wings flared, and his tail did a little shiver. "Fuck," he wheezed. "My flabber has been ghasted."

"Too much?" Tom asked, leaning on the bar, his expression teasing.

"Fuck. No." Zee waggled the glass. "Fuck me up, monsieur Collins. I can take it."

"Challenge accepted."

Zee and Tom continued to create a drink that I thought would be too potent for Zee, but after twenty minutes, he'd consumed everything Tom had made for him and was still upright—although he was beginning to slump on his elbows and slur some.

More guests had ventured back into the bar now word had spread that our salty, straight-talking barman was back and happy to insult anyone who overpaid for their drinks. With Tom back, we might actually be able to go back to normal—as normal as things got under this tired roof.

I spotted Reynard enter through the bar doors. He'd gathered his messy hair into a damp ponytail, making his face even more severe than usual. Black suspenders restrained a blood-red shirt, and his black pants had been pressed into razor thin edges. He had the look of a man on a mission, and after just a few steps his gaze found me, fixing me to the stool. Despite the warmth, a shiver ran down my spine. The good kind. He nodded once, and left.

"Hey, Zee, don't go too crazy, okay? I need you to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Zee waved me off. "I am a pro at this," is what I think he said, but the words had slurred out of him in one long garbled mess.

Rolling my eyes, I caught Tom's gaze. "Just don't kill him."

"Such little faith in me, Adam," Tom said, gleefully mixing a new multicolored potion that gave off a little purple puff of smoke. He winked.

Yup, he was definitely back.

"And don't touch the internet." No internet, meant no syndicate trying to steal our Tom again. "No new bow ties."

"There's no chance of that," Tom agreed. He'd had enough of an adventure for now.

Taking my whiskey with me out of the bar, I met Reynard in the foyer beside one of the waiting area side tables. "It is good to see Tom Collins is back to his usual self," he said.

"It is, yeah. I think he's going to be alright. What do you know about djinn?"

"Djinn?" Reynard considered it and glanced toward the bar door. "An interesting theory, and worthy of further investigation. In the meantime, will you join me in my room, Adam, to discuss other matters?"

"That depends. I don't know if I'm ready to talk just yet. It's been a long night."

He nodded, his face curated into its perfectly blank expression, like the smooth, mirrored surface of a deep, fathomless lake full of secrets. "Then tomorrow, perhaps, prior to commencing your working day?"

"You knew the syndicate boss we were going to meet and didn't tell me." Apparently I was ready to talk, since that had just blurted right out. But the foyer was not the place to discuss everything. If I went up to his room, tired and frayed like I was, I'd say something I'd later regret. Regrets were something I already had too many of.

"The reason why I didn't tell you remains the same. The risk was too great, Adam."

No, that wasn't enough. There was a whole lot more he wasn't saying, and it was time to be straight with us. "If you want to be a part of this team, you need to start being honest."

"As you are being honest about what you are?" His face wasn't so stoic now. More irritated, and perhaps frustrated.

I pinched my lips together, swallowing the urge to deny everything. Claiming I was human didn't appear to be working on Reynard anymore.

"Don't you think the time has come to trust us, Adam? If not me, then surely Zodiac deserves your truth?"

The time to tell them both was approaching, and far sooner than I'd have liked. But not yet. Shifting closer to the wall, so nobody could listen in, I switched topics in a whisper. "What about Reynard Technologies, huh? What's really going on there, Victor?"

"You will have to be more specific."

"I saw it, when I was there... I saw what you're doing. I didn't think it mattered—that you can't know everything that goes on in that building—but after you kept your friendship with Agatha from me, I don't know anymore. What else are you hiding? Zee doesn't trust you. I've tried to, but you don't make it easy?—"

"Adam, this is not the place." His frown darkened. "Join me in my room."

His bossy tone stopped me dead. Mostly because when he got all snippy, I got hard, and if he continued to boss me around, we were definitely going to his room, but it wouldn't be for talking.

I sipped my whiskey, and glanced around us to find a few guests looking over. It was late Friday night, and most guests were awake, either heading into town or about to enjoy the bar. I hopefully had a little time before the next hotel crisis.

"Alright, fine. Let's go."

Carrying my glass of whiskey like an emotional crutch, I entered the clanging elevator beside Victor, unsure if it was the whiskey warming me through, or if I just really wanted to blow off some frustrated steam with Vampire Daddy. Or just blow him.

"Agent Leomaris has the camera you were wearing," I said, breaking the tense silence. We stepped from the elevator and headed toward his room. "They said the water wouldn't stop it from working, and if we got everything I'd mentioned, they'll be able to secure a warrant and raid the lab tomorrow."

"Bringing an end to Agatha's trading in body parts. That is a good outcome," Reynard said.

"It should be enough to keep Zee and me from being prosecuted. All charges dropped." The elevator bumped, and the doors creaked open. I strode down the corridor beside him and entered his room a step behind. Everything was neat and tidy and had its proper place. He hadn't changed anything since moving in, as though he didn't believe he'd be staying. Or perhaps the emptiness was just how he'd always lived. "It may have gone smoother had you told me everything you know about Agatha before we went in."

"Your tone is displeased," he said, heading toward the window.

"So is the rest of me." I stopped a few strides inside the door.

He parted the drapes, revealing the twinkling cityscape on a clear night. A crescent moon cut the perfect tear in the night sky's canvas. Victor sighed, and turned to face me. "What did you see at Reynard Technologies, Adam?"

"You're monitoring Lost Ones. Watching them, tracking them. Why?"

Straightening, he folded his arms. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure, yeah." I started forward but stopped at the foot of the bed, uncertain if I should go to him. "And you were aware. You told me. What is technology for, if not to spy on people?—you said those very words."

Finally, he loosened his stance, and spoke softly, "I meant generally, but it seems I was more right than I knew. Adam, as I've made clear, everything I've done these past centuries has been in pursuit of vampire supremacy. That includes Reynard Technologies. I didn't steal it for myself. I own it, but I have little interest in its running. From what you've just told me, it seems clear the vampire royals are monitoring Lost Ones, and using my company to do it."

That did not sound good. "They can do that?"

He approached me, and lowered himself to the end of the bed. "Sit."

He'd said it in his Daddy Vampire voice, so of course I immediately obeyed. Zee was right, I really was a simp for Victor Reynard, even knowing he had a million secrets. Maybe because of them. The more I understood Victor Reynard, the more I saw my own mistakes. We both had pasts that demanded we lie.

We sat, side by side, in awkward silence.

"Daisy has plans to reopen the veil," he said. "And invite her mother, the queen through. Once here, if she isn't already, she'll have the strings with which to control this world via every piece of technology ever sold from Reynard Technologies."

Oh my stars. "Victor, you know this for certain?"

"In the interest of transparency, yes. As their liaison to this side of the veil, I've been an instrumental part of their plan. I paved the way, in fact."

"Oh great. That's just... That's great." World domination. By vampires. Okay. I'd known that little missy, Princess Daisy, was trouble. But I hadn't known the scope of her plans.

"I've disappointed you," Victor whispered.

"I don't know what to think. But it's fine, we just have to stay here, keep our heads down, and everything will be alright." That seemed like a good plan. It had worked for me so far.

"I don't think hiding is a viable option."

"Hiding gets a bad rep, but hiding works. Trust me." Reynard's intelligent eyes narrowed. Oops. "I mean." I shrugged. "You don't work for Daisy anymore anyway. Reynard Technologies is yours. So you can stop them."

"You seem to have an inflated view of my status among the royals, when we both know I'm of no significance now their plans have almost come to fruition."

"Just shut that monitoring thing down? Unplug it. Whatever."

"Now I am aware of it, tomorrow I will do exactly that. But it's unlikely to stop them."

My heart sank. This was exactly the kind of thing I needed to avoid. "You know what, I can't think about this." I stood and wanted to leave. The door was right there. I could walk out, and forget we'd had this conversation. But something held me in place, and a glance at Victor's sad, guilt-ridden face trapped me in one spot. "It's not my problem. The vampires wanna come, that's fine. Let them come. What can I do about it? Nothing. I'm just me. Adam Vex. And you, you're just... you. A vampire, who—as it turns out—is not very good at saving people, or yourself. So, the vampires want to take over the world? Oh well. We can all stay here and run the hotel. It will be fine."

"Perhaps," he said, but he'd failed to hide the note of sadness.

"I can't get involved."

"I see that."

"No, you don't understand. I can't, Victor."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I did not mean for you to become involved."

"I'm not involved." I laughed. "I just run a hotel. Why would I be involved?"

"Well, it's just that... you did explicitly claim me in front of the royal family, and as they know I am aware of their machinations, they likely suspect you are now aware too. Why else would you so vehemently vow to keep me safe?"

"Oh, I don't know, because I didn't want them to chop off your head? Isn't that enough? Can't I just be a normal person who doesn't want people to chop heads off other people? Why does it have to be anything more? Why does the end of the world land at my feet every single time?"

"Every... time?" Victor hesitated. "Has this unlikely scenario happened before?"

"What? Pfft. No," I blustered, sounding a lot like Zee when he was trying to hide something. I stood, grabbed my whiskey off the sideboard, and gulped it down. A fire blazed in my chest, and it wasn't just the alcohol. But that was fine. Everything was fine! "Good talk. I need more whiskey."

Reynard blurred in front of the door, blocking my path with his tall, stoic pillar of vampire stubbornness. "Adam..."

"Victor?" Oh, there were the shivers again. But no, I was not going to let the fact I wanted to straddle Daddy Vampire and ride his cock like a bucking bronco distract me from being mad at him and this situation. And the stupid prophecy that kept trying to put me in the middle of saving the world.

"I cannot run from this," he said, all sensible and manly. "Neither can you."

"I have been running from this my entire life," I admitted, skimming so close to the truth I could taste its ash on my tongue.

He stepped close and tilted my chin up. The wards didn't tingle. He had no intention of hurting me or stopping me from leaving, if I truly wanted to. "Dance with me."

"Erm . . . what?"

His arm eased around my waist, and like two jigsaw pieces, he drew me closer until we clicked, our bodies touching in all the right ways through our clothes. I clutched at his back, scrunching his shirt, and grabbed his firm arm.

"What if you no longer had to run?" he whispered, shifting his hips in a tentative rhythm. "Would you then be free?"

I scrunched his shirt harder, holding him tighter, and ached from the impact of his words. I'd trusted before and been betrayed. I'd loved, and had my heart broken. But this felt different. This world was different. I was different. Victor was different—and so was Zee. Maybe, just maybe the SOS Hotel would be my last stand, with the two halves of my heart beside me?

A thump rattled the door, jolting me from the moment.

Reynard's exasperated sigh brushed my ear.

"Kitten-shoo-in-there?"

"Zee?"

"Imshofuckinwashted."

I leaned back and winced at Reynard's resting vampire face, as Zee called it. "I can send him away?"

Reynard blinked, rolled his eyes up, and blinked again. "If he dies of alcohol poisoning I will get the blame." With a second heavy sigh, he stepped aside and opened the door.

Zee tumbled into the room, wings flapping, but managed to right himself, and spin, holding up a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a flask in the other. His big grin beamed. "Eh voila!" he proclaimed, slurring a little. "I come with gifts. Well, I don't come with gifts." He winked. "Not yet."

"Uh, thank you, Zee, but maybe you should?—"

Zee swooped in and flung an arm around Reynard's shoulders, rocking Reynard. "Bloody Bish," Zee said, shoving the flask into Reynard's hand. "Also, wait..." He pushed off Reynard, and tried to get his hand into his tight pants pocket. For some reason known only to him, to get whatever he needed out of his pocket required he spin on the spot, with his wings and tail flailing.

Reynard danced back, avoiding a tail in the face. I ducked under a wing.

"Ah-ha!" Zee held up a tiny frog ornament. "This, Your Royal Fuckness, is for you. Is warm because was in my pocket. By my balls."

Reynard frowned.

"Fuckshake." Zee grabbed his hand and dropped the frog into his palm. "A flog... A gog... fwgog... A fucking fog-frog. I hate fogs and I do not mush like you. Ha. I'm fucking hilar-eh-lush."

Reynard's frown scrunched into a help expression. "Adam, some assistance?"

"Although, Daddy Vampire." Zee finger-walked up Reynard's chest. "Is so fucking hot."

Oh dear. If he said something he'd regret, it would be my fault for not stopping him sooner.

"Stick your penis up my ass and hammer me like a cheap whore," Zee snorted.

Oh-kay, theregret ship had sailed. "Hey, Zee, uhm, maybe we should go to your room?"

"Yes!" He cheered. "All of us. Right now. For sex."

"Uh..." This was awkward. I glanced at Reynard and cringed.

"Not in his current state," Reynard said, appalled. But was the whole idea appalling, or just Zee's situation?

"Naw, dawg, don't like currants." Zee flopped backwards onto Reynard's bed. "Like frog eyes." He told the ceiling. "I'm so fucked. But thishish the best. Mac and cheese is the best. Daddy Vampire's bed ish the best." He stroked the sheet. "Adam is the besht. I'm the besst. Reynard ish... okay? Climb on. Let's fuckin' go."

Reynard folded his arms and peered down at the enormous demon sprawled on his bed. A few seconds later, Zee's breathing deepened into soft puffs. On his back, he'd start snoring soon.

"Uh, Victor, I'm... sorry?" I inched closer, and yup, he was definitely asleep. There was no way we were moving him, not without a whole lot of chaos. "I'm going to have to have a word with Tom Collins again." I knew Zee could hold his drink. Tom really must have done his worst.

"There's an exceedingly intoxicated demon unconscious on my bed, Adam."

I tried to read Reynard's face, but in profile, while he glared at Zee, it was really hard to know if he was alarmed, surprised, disgusted, or bored. "Yeah, but he bought you a frog, so it's not all bad."

"He also compared me to a frog." Reynard's face... softened?

"Isn't the gift part what matters?" Wait, didn't vampires gift each other dead bodies? "I mean, it's not a corpse, so I can see how you might..." Would a dead frog have been a better gift? I trailed off under the weight of his stoic silence. "He looks cute though, right?" Especially in his Stop Staring at My Cock shirt, and hugging a whiskey bottle.

"He's in my bed."

"He's more on it than in it?" Did that help?

A soft rumbling came from Reynard—the most alarming sound I'd ever heard him make. I stared, and the sound got deeper.

"This is my life now?" He sobbed, or choked, or maybe laughed?

Soft, deep rumbling noises vibrated out of him, like the tumble of melted chocolate. Definitely laughter. Wow. Okay. I chuckled.

"There's a demon in my bed, Adam!" He laughed harder, then grasped the bedpost to hold himself up. "I don't know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is, but I know there's an incubus in my bed!"

I giggle-snorted. "Pretty crazy, huh?"

His face kind of contorted, lips turning down. Wait. Were we still laughing or was he having some kind of emotional seizure?

"I am clearly insane." He wiped his eyes. "But that's entirely acceptable, here in this remarkable hotel." His laughter slowed to a trickling hiccup. Clearing his throat, he vanished it altogether—and just like that, it was over.

He crossed the room, grabbed a blanket from the closet, and draped it over Zee. "Please refrain from commenting, Adam."

Okay. I zipped my chortling behind my lips. We were back to his stern, authoritative voice.

But Reynard had laughed, and Zee missed it. I couldn't wait to tell him. "Shall we leave him to sleep it off?" I suggested.

"Indeed."

"You could come by my room, if you like? Just for... tea? Nothing else, I mean... Nothing you don't want. Or do want? I am open to everything—not everything, but most things. What?"

Reynard's face finally brightened. "Tea will be lovely."

Reynard gently placed the frog ornament on his dresser, and caught my eye, making it clear I was not to comment on that either, and the fact he obviously appreciated it.

Zee was going to be so grumpy in the morning. Not only had he missed the once in a lifetime event of witnessing Reynard laugh, he'd passed out on Reynard's bed, and missed the tender way Reynard treated the frog ornament.

We headed to my room, our steps lighter. Clearing the air felt good, even if it did have world-ending consequences that I was definitely not getting swept up in. Nope. I was quite happy in the hotel, doing hotel things. There was no reason the prophecy had to find me here. None at all. I was going to have tea with Reynard, and then fantastic bossy sex. And everything was going to be fine.

"I collected some teas from Chef étrange," I said. "So there's all sorts of different ones to try."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Adam. But I'm sure the company will be more delightful than the tea."

I was definitely getting some action. What else could go wrong? Zee was out cold, so there wouldn't be any more untimely interruptions from him, and the hotel was running smoothly. Disasters had been averted. We weren't going to prison. The black market body-parts business had been foiled.

This was my moment, my downtime, and my chance to get on my knees for Vampire Daddy.

I opened my room door—and slammed it shut again.

"What is it?" Reynard asked.

"Oh it's..." I'd seen the inside of my room. The image had gone into my eyes, but I struggled to turn it into words. Instead, I sighed, and opened the door so Reynard could witness it too.

Gremlins.

Everywhere.

Swinging from the light, climbing the curtains, burrowing in my open dresser drawers. Several were eating the carpet. More appeared to be getting frisky with my pillows.

A gremlin party.

Or, depending on where you looked, a gremlin orgy—and they were not shy.

On my bed, in the middle of all the chaos, the ringleader's beady-eyed glare met mine. Little Jimmy, the mass-murdering pixie from the fae market, raised his middle finger.

"Oh my stars."

"Adam, you appear to have a gremlin problem."

I sighed, closed the door, and pinned a smile to my face. "Let's have tea in the bar."

"You're going to leave the gremlins?"

They'd already trashed my room. It couldn't get much worse. "That's tomorrow's problem."

"Very well." Reynard's lips ticked, almost as though he threatened to free another untimely laugh.

"Do you think this is funny, Victor?" I asked, teasing.

"You must admit, it is rather entertaining in a chaotic, desperate way." He hooked his arm around my waist, tucking me in close as we walked toward the elevator. Maybe I didn't get to drop to my knees tonight, but this was good too.

My smile softened. Despite the gremlins, things weren't all that bad. We'd gotten Tom Collins back, avoided jail, made a tentative ally in Agent Leomaris, and slightly inconvenienced Gideon Cain. Again. Not bad for a sex demon, a vampire daddy, and an average human.

The elevator doors rumbled closed, the cables twanged, and the car jolted down.

Reynard eyed the rickety walls. "Some investment in the hotel is overdue. After everything you've done for me, I'm happy to assist financially."

Hm, but he was technically still a guest. I couldn't take Reynard's money without Zee's approval. "She's just tired, that's all." I thumped the elevator's side. "The old girl's got some life left?—"

The elevator clanged to an abrupt stop with the arrow halfway between floors. The door remained firmly shut.

"You were saying?" Reynard prompted.

I thumped the car again, and the elevator lurched back into motion. "See, she's fine."

"Hm."

"Alright, so maybe the hotel is held together by cobwebs and best intentions, but she's still standing." The doors finally opened and we hurried from the elevator into the foyer. "Some investment wouldn't hurt. Perhaps just a little loan? A business arrangement. We'll pay you back." If the hotel ever made a profit.

"As you wish."

We pushed into the bar, finding it lively with customers. Reynard headed to Tom at the bar to order our tea, while I took a seat and watched the guests mingle, chat, and laugh. All of them safe.

This was what the strife was all for. The SOS Hotel. A sanctuary for all.

The wards were growing, Zee had become more powerful since feeding on me, and my curse was intact. Victor had some issues, but we were working on those. It had not been easy, but after four weeks, we were still here and better than ever.

Let Gideon Cain come. Let him try and take what's mine.

He'd soon learn what it meant to mess with the SOS Hotel management. And Adam Vex.

Picking up a branded hotel coaster, I turned it over in my hand.

Everything was going to be fine, just so long as the drama was over. It had to be, didn't it? What else could possibly go wrong, besides the typical hotel problems?

Reynard returned with a pair of tall iced teas that likely had alcohol in them. "I thought it prudent not to argue with Tom Collins," he said, handing over my drink and taking a seat. "The tea undoubtably has various toxins in it, as he greatly implied we should spend the evening together. Regrettably, he is unaware of the gremlins in your room, and the comatose incubus in mine."

I chuckled and chinked my tea with Victor's. "To the SOS Hotel."

"Indeed. Long may it thrive."

As I raised the cool glass to my lips, the opening bars of "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins came on the jukebox. Which was odd. I hadn't realized it had that song in its library.

The bar door flung open and a demon I'd hoped never to see again flounced in.

Sebastien wore a pale pink suit that, combined with his long braid of white hair, gave him the appearance of sickly candy, despite there being nothing sweet about him. He scanned the bar, and my fleeting hope he might not see us quickly died the second his gaze landed at our table.

"Oh dear."

He looked regrettably well for someone who'd had their life torn apart, and probably parts of their anatomy too, but that was probably down to glamor.

He barged through the crowd, and dumped a large cardboard box onto our table.

"Oh, sweethearts, did I interrupt whatever fucking tragedy is happening here?"

"Sebastien," I greeted, keeping my heart calm and voice even. "You're not welcome."

"Oh, aren't I?" He pouted. "Is this the face of someone who fucking cares about your SUS Hotel? No. This is the face of someone who is better than you cuntbags in every fucking way."

Reynard simmered in fury. "Allow me to stop you there, demon. The hotel wards prevent me from harming you, but beyond the hotel, you're fair game."

Seb dry-glared. "I won't be staying. I came to deliver these. Courtesy of Gideon Cain."

"Are you Gideon's delivery boy, then?" Reynard enquired.

Sebastien screwed up his face, then tore open the box and scooped out a pile of Wilson's Guides. He flung a stack down, spilling them across the table, then plucked a sheet of paper from his pocket and flung it in front of Reynard. "He wrote you a note."

Reynard picked it up, flicked the note out, and recited. "Queen Cream, Velvet Poker, Master P?—"

"The fuck." Seb snatched the note back, muttering about dildos and shopping. He dug a second note out of a different pocket, and slammed that down.

This time, as Reynard read, his expression gradually hardened. "Dagda, Demigod, Demons, Derricks, Djinn, Doppleg?nger?—"

"Stop." I swallowed my leaping heart.

Reynard set the list down and eyed the spread of guides. Each one had a colorful sticky note poking from between the pages. I didn't need to open them to know they'd all have their D sections intact and clearly highlighted.

Seb cocked a hip and waved a hand. "Looks like you made not one but three enemies, stupid little human."

I was not going to react. I'd not give Sebastien that satisfaction. But inside, my head and heart pounded. "Just three?"

Seb counted on his fingers. "Gideon Cain, Princess Daisy, and me."

"I'm surprised you can count that high, Sebastien," Reynard said.

"I don't need the whores. I have new friends, better friends, and I'm not even paying them to like me. Lord Reynard." Seb pointed. "You sit there all high and mighty, but Daisy knows all your dark, filthy secrets. And you, dull, pathetic, reeking of insecurity, Adam Vex. Seems like you aren't what you seem, amiright? Y'all made a mistake in making me an enemy."

"You're really more of a nuisance than a threat." Reynard raised his gaze, and while he appeared relaxed, the wards tingled. "It's time you left."

Seb's glittery wings flared and a desperate shimmer of malice shone in his glare. "We are going to fuck you, Adam Vex, and not in the fun way. I'll show myself out of this shit-heap hotel, cumbuckets."

A pregnant pause lingered in the void Sebastien left behind. A silence full of unasked questions. The pile of guides sat on the table, each one a smoking gun. In the past, I would have run. But this hotel... these people... As Reynard had said, I could not run from this. And didn't want to.

No more running.

If Gideon wanted a fight, he had one.

I sat back and sipped my tea. It tasted good, with a hint of lemon and mint, and something spicy, with a zing that was likely Tom Collins's special ingredient.

"That was . . . unpleasant."

Reynard mirrored my nonchalant pose, and sipped his tea. "I'll see to it these guides are burned."

"No." It was time. "Open one."

"Are you sure, Adam?"

I nodded, and continued to casually sip my tea. My heart didn't race. I wasn't afraid, not anymore. Not of Victor.

Reynard set down his tea, picked up the guide closest to him, and after sliding his fingers between the pages marked by the sticky notes, he opened the book.

His gaze tracked the lines, scanning the paragraphs that had been missing from all the guides in the hotel. His eyes gradually widened.

Victor Reynard stilled.

He looked up, and said the words that were a death sentence to any and all who spoke them. "It's you."