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“Wow.” Zee poofed into the cavernous apartment-sized hotel room, spread his arms and tail, and circled on the spot. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about. VIP treatment! It’s about time we got some respect.”

The enormous room was split into a living area, a kitchenette, and a double bed in the slightly raised sleeping area by the window. Double doors led through to a second, smaller room with two additional beds, but even that side room was twice the size of anything we had at the SOS Hotel.

“Oh, kinky,” Zee said, spotting the mirrors on the ceiling above the bed. He dashed into a little side room. “Oh my fuck, I’ve died and gone to a billionaire’s bathhouse in the sky.” Zee’s voice sailed from inside the other room, its echo suggesting a bathroom.

Victor followed the sound of Zee’s voice and disappeared into the bathroom too. “My, my, that is generous.”

This was . . . a very nice room, but wasn’t it a bit luxurious for us? How much money had been in that roll Victor handed over? Maybe he’d gotten tired of slumming it in the van and this was his throwback to finer living?

“Rub it, vampire,” Zee was saying, his voice echoing from the bathroom.

“I am rubbing, demon.”

“Rub it harder or it won’t thicken.”

While Zee and Victor explored the facilities, I wandered around the spacious suite. Colorful fresh flowers filled a vase, and the minibar was stocked with all manner of tiny expensive-looking alcohol bottles.

Straightening, I scanned the rest of the room. With its fine art and fluffed pillows, it was definitely more than we could afford. There had to be a catch. Then, in the corner, on the same wall the bed butted up against, high up where the wall met the ceiling, a little camera stared down.

A camera . . . in a hotel room?

“Uh, guys?”

“It’ll stiffen if you pump it, like this,” Zee said, clearly instructing Victor on something important.

“Guys?”

Victor emerged, wiping his hands on a towel, and Zee followed, carrying some kind of tub. “Hair wax,” Zee explained. “If he’s going to look like a vampire, he has to fix his hair.”

“I am a vampire.”

“Up there.” I nodded at the camera. “Look.”

They both fell quiet, and stared up at the little box. It wasn’t hidden, so it wasn’t for secret spying, but that didn’t ease my concern.

“The fuck?!” Zee folded his arms. “I am not doing freebies.”

A camera in a private hotel room definitely wasn’t right. “I’ll go speak to the concierge.”

Victor’s narrowed eyes suggested he felt the same creeping sense of unease as me. Zee scooped out a glob of hair wax. “You gotta rub it, so it stiffens. Then you can style it easier.”

“Put that in my hair and it will be the last thing you ever do,” Victor said, eerily calm.

Zee scraped the wax off his fingers, back into the pot. “Oh-kay then. What about a manicure?” Zee’s eyes brightened at the idea. “Yes, let me paint your nails! Fuckin’ rainbows! I can braid your hair. Oh my fuck, yes. Why have I not done that yet?!”

Victor turned to me, deliberately ignoring Zee’s offer of a makeover. “Would you like me to accompany you downstairs? Please. Immediately.”

“No, it’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just some misunderstanding. You guys unpack. I’ll be right back.”

After leaving the room, I jogged back down the grand staircase. The lobby was even busier than before, and filled with all manner of costume-wearing people. I fought a path to the front desk, passing a message board that read: Drinks and nibbles start at eight p.m. in the bar. Zee would definitely want free snacks.

Larimer wasn’t at the front desk.

Ding! I chimed the bell, and while waiting, I admired the many different costumes on display. Some guests clearly took dressing up more seriously than others. There were plenty of cliché vampires sporting plastic fangs, and lots of pretend weapons—although some of them had been so well made they looked real.

A man loitering by the front entrance caught my eye, mostly because he wore sunglasses indoors. Slicked-back gelled hair accentuated a stern but youngish face. He leaned against the wall, possibly watching the crowd, although it was difficult to tell without seeing his eyes. He gave off hired-security vibes, but wore a puffy winter jacket as though about to head outside.

He pushed off the wall and left through the main door, letting in a blast of cold air that upset the capes and skirts of everyone in the reception. My instincts said vampire. I’d been around a few lately . . . killed some, and eaten one. I was getting pretty good at spotting them.