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Cool fingers clasped mine, gave a single shake, then let go in the world’s quickest handshake. “Charmed.” His voice had a cultured, smooth cadence that did complicated things to my insides.

Mercy, I needed the stool to keep my knees from giving out. Whatever this was, I wasn’t sure it was a normal reaction. I’d need to dig out Wilson’s Guide to Supernaturals later, look up vampires, and see if they had any powers that might explain why my body had gotten all extra sensitive.

Any supernatural that fed on humans, usually had a nifty little way of luring their prey into their grasp. Zodiac could bespell a crowd with his allure, whereas Reynard here had those eyes that pulled me in and at the same time made me want to drop to my knees.

I cleared my throat, and perched on the stool beside him.

Zodiac might know what kind of power Lord Reynard could wield, but asking him why the hot vampire had turned me on with a glance seemed like a bad idea. None of that mattered anyway, because all of this was strictly business, and clearly, Victor Reynard was here to discuss something important.

“It’s lovely to meet you. Usually, we’d of course welcome you in the lobby, but . . .” I trailed off under his unblinking gaze, then glanced at Tom, with no idea why. He wasn’t going to help, unless we wanted alcohol. And blood, apparently.

“Whiskey?” Tom asked me.

“Oh, it’s a bit early for whiskey,” I tittered.

“Wasn’t twenty minutes ago.” He poured me a whiskey.

And now Lord Reynard, billionaire tech vampire, knew I had whiskey for breakfast and was probably a hopeless alcoholic. I smiled at the smug AI prick and tipped my glass. Thanks for nothing, Tom.

“Tom Collins,” Reynard said, in a voice that lit up all the parts of my brain that controlled my libido. “Twenty twenty-seven model. Let me guess, you bought it off a fae?”

“I uh . . .” I laughed, and it was genuine this time. “I did.”

“Probably overpaid. That year was notorious for certain . . . glitches. The model was discontinued in twenty-eight. They’re rather rare now, because of it.”

Of course he’d know all about a bartending AI. His company had probably built them. And within thirty seconds, I’d exposed how cheap we were. I couldn’t afford the latest in tech to woo my guests. I could barely afford the wage bill. And here this man was, wearing shoes that cost more than my entire budget to fix up the hotel, which admittedly, hadn’t been much. Maybe he was here because of how clearly desperate we were, because he certainly wasn’t here for a room, and I was kidding myself if I thought he’d spend a single night under our gremlin-infested roof.

“You must think all this is ridiculous,” I said, cradling my whiskey.

“How so?”

“Trying to create a safe haven for the Lost Ones, when nobody wants them here. No one is going to stay here. But if you came to laugh, you can leave again. I won’t give up. This hotel is happening. It’s staying, and I’m going to make it work.”

He smiled, exposing two sharp, gleaming fangs that hadn’t been on display on the hotel steps. “On the contrary, I admire what you’re doing.”

He admired—wait, what was his angle? “Well then, I’m not selling if that’s what you’re here for. I’ve had offers, crazy offers. There’s this guy, Gideon Cain from Cain Developments. If you’re with him, then you should leave. I’ve told him many times, no means no.”

“You seem eager to get rid of me, Adam?”

Even knowing how he must have looked down on our silly hotel, the way my name touched his lips had some very visceral parts of me coming alive. He was definitely doing something to me, but it couldn’t be to-cause-me-harm magic, or the wards would have kicked in.

I huffed—rattled, slightly aroused, definitely confused. “No, I just . . . Look, what do you want?”

“Merely to spend the night.”

“Uh . . . Okay. We can do that.” It killed me not to ask why he’d stay with us, when there were plenty of five-star hotels in town, and some who even took Lost Ones. Zodiac would have asked, but I had more tact. Lord Reynard was our first guest, and we needed to start as we meant to go on, with politeness and discretion.

“Good.” He tilted his head back and downed the blood drink like I’d earlier downed the whiskey. I watched his pale throat move, knowing I shouldn’t, but a man could look—right? What did he taste like? All warm and spicy? Or were vampires cold? Rumors suggested they were undead, but he didn’t look like an animated corpse. Did his heart beat?

Tom caught me ogling, and judged with that raised eyebrow of his. I showed the AI my middle finger and caught his smirk in return. Maybe I could ask Reynard to fix him, make him more amiable and friendly and less of a jerk?

“With that settled, will you show me to my room?” Reynard asked.

“Yes. I . . . yes, of course.” I left the whiskey at the bar, which was probably for the best. “I have just the room for you. One of our most up to date and luxurious.”

“Perfect.” He eased off the stool and walked alongside me toward the door, Oxford shoes clipping the tired boards. He was tall, but not Zodiac tall. Although, Reynard wasn’t wearing heels, and Zodiac’s heels got higher with each day.

“And do not be offended, but should the incubus deign to approach me again, I’ll take my leave—with a full refund.”