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No time like the present.

Just meander on over.

“Adam, darling, there you are,” Madame Matase said. She wore a lovely cream and yellow summer dress that rippled around her ankles as she glided over, and had her long hair pinned high. Her necklaces and bangles jingled. She appeared to be a young woman, but she had old, storytelling eyes, which was how I knew her to be much older inside. “Are you busy?”

“Er, no? Not at all.” I’d have The Talk with Zee later.

“Good. The exterminator is here and he wants to visit the epicenter of the . . . uhm . . .” She lowered her voice and glanced around. “Infestation.” It was definitely best if the guests didn’t know how bad our gremlin problem had become.

Following Madame Matase back to the lobby, I spotted a big man dressed in baggy gray overalls that were taped into thick rubber boots. He wore a bright red hard hat, and chonky letters stretched over his rotund belly read: Gremlins Gone.

So much for keeping our infestation a secret.

I gripped his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Doug McDongle.” He introduced himself with a bouncy voice and bright grin. “Gremlins Gone!”

“Adam Vex, uh . . . SOS Hotel.”

“Then I’m in the right place!” the jolly man chuckled. “It seems you have a gremlin problem.”

“Uh, yes.” Did he have to say it so loud? “I’ll take you to the room they’ve adopted.” I headed toward the elevator, with McDongle bounding along at my side like a happy St. Bernard dog.

“Old buildings like these,” McDongle remarked. “They attract all sorts. You’re lucky it’s just gremlins.”

If only it was just gremlins. “We have a pixie too.”

“Uh-oh. That’s a terrible mix. Pixies organize gremlins. You’ve called us at the right time.” He stopped in front of the elevator and eyed it warily as the doors rumbled open. “Best not, I think. If it’s as bad as you say, they’ve probably chewed cables.”

I winced, and eyed the elevator with concern. It had been extra glitchy lately. “The stairs?”

“Good idea!” McDongle grinned. “You’ll want to shut down the elevator until we’re done. Just to be sure.”

We headed into the stairwell. “They’ve not always been this bad. We inherited the gremlins when we bought the hotel,” I explained. “Their numbers weren’t so bad to begin with. Just a few, you know?”

“Once in, gremlins are notoriously difficult to evict. They hide in the walls. You don’t know you got problems until . . . Oh no! They’re everywhere!” He waved his hands in mock shock. I could have done without his theatrics. “They’ll also undermine the structural integrity of a building—weight-bearing beams and the like. Little bastards!” He chortled. “Have you been getting holes?”

Oh boy, had we. “Yeah, we have a lot of those.” We’d had to cover a new one in the bar with a potted plant.

“Oh dear, oh dear. We’ll need to do a full scan of the structure.”

This was beginning to sound expensive. Thankfully, Reynard had offered to help with the bills. Although, that had been before he’d picked up a Wilson’s Guide and read exactly what and who I was. Victor hadn’t said much after that, just sipped his tea and stared at the cabinet he’d made. It was a lot to take in. He’d excused himself later that evening, and I’d only seen him again briefly yesterday, on his way out the main door, probably heading to work.

He’d left an origami rose outside my temporary room, so I figured we were okay. Victor had been through a lot, losing his wife and his family—even if they were all blood-sucking narcissistic psychopaths. The last few weeks had taken a great deal out of him. He needed some space.

“Here we are,” I said, stopping outside my old room.

McDongle slapped his hands together and rubbed them with glee. “Best see what I’m dealing with!” He really loved his job.

“Alright, but it gets wild. Just so you know.” Rather him than me. I shoved open the door. A cat ornament hurtled out and smashed on the corridor’s opposite wall.

McDongle clenched his fists. “Righteo. In I go!” And in the stocky, boiler suit–clad man went.

I closed the door, shoved my hands into my pockets, and waited. Some screeching sounded, then something fragile shattered. A guest tottered on by, giving me the side-eye as she went. “Morning,” I greeted. “Just uhm . . . housekeeping?”

A screaming yowl sounded.

The door opened and McDongle flew out at an impressive speed for his size.

“Close the door,” he barked, face flushed as red as his hat. “Hurry! Close it!”