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“He gets hangry,” Zee explained to Jenny. “I like your plants. They are . . . There’s lots of them.”

“Yeah.” She flopped back down into her chair and buried her face in her phone. “Plants are nicer than people. Enjoy your stay at the No Tel Motel.”

That was our cue to leave. As we stepped outside, Victor cut a striking figure carrying his bag up the step outside room six. Zee and I enjoyed a few moments admiring the austere figure of our suit-clad vampire lord carrying our bags.

“Did you see the way those pants sculpt dat fine ass?” Zee asked. “And how the mist clings to his dark hair?”

A small chuckle fell out of me, prompting Zee to act shocked. “What? He needs to stop bossing us the fuck around, and then maybe we won’t both bend over backwards—or forwards— for him, amiright?” His purple eyebrows jumped.

It was true. When Victor said bend over, we both asked how low. “Maybe, yeah.”

“Helloooo . . . sex demon. He knows he’s a turn-on and deliberately struts around flaunting his big-dick energy.”

Like someone else I knew very well.

He started toward the room, and nodded at the motel sign. “No Tel? Cute.” Someone had either stolen the V and O from Novotel, or the letters had fallen off and the owner figured its new name worked just fine, leaving it NO TEL MOTEL. “If I get crabs from this dive, imma share them with you.”

We climbed the steps and joined Victor inside an orange and gray 1930s-styled room. The weird chairs were all slippery, frayed fake leather, and the carpet had so many stains I wasn’t sure what was supposed to be the pattern and what may have been left from a murder scene.

Zee froze a few steps inside. “This is where hopes and dreams come to die.”

“It is adequate for our temporary needs,” Victor said, standing by a dresser that was also covered in suspicious burn stains. He tugged at his cufflinks, jerking them off.

“It’s nice.” Nice was generous, but I had to say something.

“Uh.” Zee dropped the bags and grumpily folded his arms. “There’s only one bed, and as much as I love tropes, my fabulous self will not fit on that tiny mattress with you two.”

“Fear not, Zodiac.” With a step sideways and a flick of the wrist, Victor opened a second door, revealing the room over with two singles in the same migraine-inducing orange. “Adjoining rooms.”

“Your skinny asses can take those skinny beds. I’m too fabulous to ever sleep in a single. And I have wings.”

“Thank you for the reminder. We surely hadn’t remembered your impractically large appendages.”

“Are we talkin’ about my wings or something else?” When Victor didn’t laugh, Zee headed over to him. “Sassy Daddy is sassy.” He side-stepped up in front of Victor and with no thought for his own personal safety, booped Victor on the nose. Victor blinked. Nothing else. The blink was his only movement. “You’re adorable when overtired.”

“Boop my nose again and one of two things will happen. I will perform an armlock that will debilitate you. Or, during our next intimacies, I’ll ensure you spend the entire time on your knees, begging for a release that will not come.”

Zee’s delicate purple lashes fluttered as his smirk grew. “Is there a third bad option, because honestly, both of those just make me wanna administer more boops—” Victor snarled, baring his fangs. “Alrighty. No touchy grumpy vampire.” Zee huffed and retreated to the double bed. “Boops are bad,” he air-quoted.

We were all getting restless and angsty, which was entirely my fault. Every bone in my body ached to apologize for dragging them so far north and spill everything about my brother, but if we weren’t far enough away, they’d turn the van around and head right back to the SOS Hotel. Where they’d die, making some grand last stand.

No, nope. I grabbed my bags and began to unpack what few items I’d brought.

After getting settled—which saw Zee poke into every cupboard, shelf, dresser, and hidey hole he could find—Victor pulled the drapes, blocking out any chance of seeing some sun, and stretched his lean body out on top of one of the two single beds.

“So uh . . . how far did we get exactly?” I parted the drapes and peeked outside. A few more cars had pulled up since our arrival, but the lot was pretty quiet.

“We’re outside a small settlement called Whiteacre Falls,” Victor explained. He rested his clasped hands on his chest and closed his eyes. “A few hours from the Canadian border. Is that as far north as you wish to run?”

“Run?!” I spluttered, then squeaked a laugh. “What? We’re not running. You’re so funny, Victor. That’s just . . . If we were running, I’d obviously tell you that was a thing that was happening.”

“Of course you would.” His eyes stayed closed. “Because there’s no reason not to tell us when we’ll always support you, no matter what or how bad such a thing might be to cause you to run in the first place.”

“Uh, sure. If that was happening. But it’s not, so we’re good.” It was definitely time to change the subject. “Uh, Zee?”

“Hullo, Kitten?” Zee called back from the other room.

“What’s your favorite cookie?”