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As I made my way around the front of the van and climbed into the passenger seat, Victor side-eyed me from behind the wheel. He didn’t ask, but he didn’t have to.

There hadn’t been a frog.

With a puff of smoke and a rattling cough, the van grumbled to life and we got underway.

A glance back as we pulled onto the road showed the family man by his SUV, watching us leave.

Maybe I was paranoid . . . Or maybe I’d just saved Zee? How was I supposed to know if someone had good or bad intentions?

I settled in my seat and gazed out the window at the endless treeline rolling by. Had I done the right thing by leaving the hotel and its wards? Could I really protect them by running? I’d been so sure, but now . . .

How far away would be far enough?

CHAPTER 4

The rocking van and slamming door roused me from my broken dreams. The bits and pieces of those dreams left me with frayed nerves and a mild sense of panic. Where was Victor? Zee?

Sitting bolt upright, it took me a few seconds to realize Zee had climbed out. He flicked his wings, stretching their sparkly leather expanses wide, and lashed his tail, loosening tight muscles.

Victor strode across the lot, heading toward the covered porch and flickering sign that read: Open.

They were okay. We were safe.

Rain fogged the windshield and my view of the single-story motel we’d stopped at. The SOS Hotel had looked just as beat-up as this place when we’d bought it—and it had been abandoned. I did not want to know what critters lived inside these walls.

Hopping out, I stretched my legs. Victor was right, we did need a break from traveling. A brief stop wouldn’t hurt.

There was only one other vehicle in the lot, a rusted pickup truck with grass growing around its wheels. Thumping music and murmured chatter drifted from the bar next door—the one with rows of shiny black and chrome low-rider bikes parked outside.

“Hey, Kitten, you don’t think he’s gone in there to rent us a room, d’yah?” Zee asked as I met him on his side of the van.

Victor was an ex-billionaire; he had standards. But he’d also chosen to stay at the SOS Hotel when we’d still had a few improvements to make, so those standards might have been really low.

“We should check,” I told Zee, and we hurried across the lot.

Opening the rickety door into a cramped reception area, a blast of sweet perfume tickled my nose, making me sneeze. Sniffing, I blinked through tears, and spied succulent plants of all shapes and sizes covering every shelf, counter, desktop, window sill . . . and the floor, leaving a little vacant path to the main desk.

The young woman behind the desk, with short pixie-cut brown hair, lifted her eyes and arched an eyebrow, taking in all of Zee’s seven-foot-tall demon-with-horns glory—he’d hidden his wings—then me.

“They with you, bestie?” she asked Victor, having already assessed him before our arrival.

“Yes. Is that permitted in this fine establishment?”

“Whatever. Welcome to the No Tel Motel,” she drawled, adding zero enthusiasm. “I’m Jenny—manager, cleaner, receptionist, everything else. We givin’ liminal-space vibes in a quirky way. The aesthetic is low-key cursed but make it cozy. Wi-Fi’s mid but it works, and the vibes are slutty core. We’re living for it, though. Cash only, we don’t claim technology in this establishment. You want hourly? No shade no tea, we literally don’t judge here. Room six’s available . . . actually most rooms are empty, but sheets are clean in six, no cap.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d zoned out from lack of sleep or if she was speaking an entirely different language. ”Uhm, there’s no tea?”

“Thank you, Jenny.” Victor took the room key from the desk and saw my face. “Adam. We’ll rest up here for the day. Zodiac can stretch his wings and you should eat at the bar next door. We all need the break.”

Zee’s tail flicked, and struck a stubby succulent, sending it flying. He swooped in, grabbed it before it could hit the floor, and delicately placed it on Jenny’s desk. “Oops.”

“Are you uh . . . sure?” I asked, spying a condom vending machine beside the tourist leaflets.

With a huff, Victor lifted his chin. “I have driven all night. You are tired, and Zodiac has talked for an insufferable three hours about his favorite cookie. Our stopping is not up for discussion.”

If we’d driven all night on top of the drive through the day, then we were a long way from San Francisco—which would explain the enormous trees, drop in temperature, and dense mist. That was good. We could stop for a while to recharge and figure out what came next. Frankly, we’d stayed at the SOS Hotel when it hadn’t even had running water. What could be worse? “Alright, I guess.”

Victor turned on his heel and marched outside.