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CHAPTER 8
Victor moved—like he does—so fast I didn’t see it until the spinning axe stopped dead, suspended an inch from Zee’s shocked face, held there by Victor’s unwavering grip on its handle. “Midnight,” Victor snarled.
Zee immediately sprang into action and slammed the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!
Victor lowered the axe, spun on his heel, and marched for the axe murderer with enough determination in each step that he clearly meant to take the man’s head. I considered suggesting we keep him alive to get answers, but really did not want to get between Victor and his target.
Victor raised the axe.
“Holy fuck a stick,” Zee gasped, probably from watching Victor get his murder on, but he could also have noticed how the section of paneling under the stairs quivered and jerked apart revealing an opening beneath.
What was it the clue had said? Paths once knew.
“Look out!” I barked. The big bulky axeman had moved so fast he blurred, just like Victor could do, blinking from one place and appearing right behind him. Victor spun, axe on a path to take the man’s head from his neck, but he grabbed the axe, stopping Victor’s attack mid-swing.
Victor’s strength was second only to mine.
The axeman had to be a Lost One, especially now we knew he could move like a vampire, but the only Lost Ones I knew to be as bulky as him were gargoyles. Alive, then dead, then alive again? What was he?
The axeman thrust out a hand, slammed his palm into Victor’s chest, and smacked him off his feet, launching Victor through the air. He smashed through the stair treads in an explosion of splintered wood, and dropped out of sight into a void beneath.
“Victor!” I bolted into the secret doorway under the stairs and found him dusting himself off at the top of a narrow opening, with a stone staircase spiraling down into darkness. He plucked shards of wood from his messy hair. “This is a challenge.”
A roar shook the air. “Trespassers!”
Zee slammed into me. “Alright ladies, down the secret stairs we go, unless you wanna dance with a fuck-off angry wrestler who moves faster than Vic and hits harder than Adam.”
“Indeed.” Victor turned on his heel and jogged down the stairs into the gloom.
I followed, then looked back and whispered to Zee, “Is the axeman following?”
Hunched over, Zee ducked his head so his horns didn’t scrape the ceiling. “Not unless he’s shrunk.”
He was right, there was no way the axeman would fit down these stairs. “Where did he come from?”
“No fuckin’ idea. Hey Vic, he’s the same guy we dumped in the closet, right?”
“Yes. The very same.” Victor slowed his descent as the staircase tightened further. “Although clearly alive.”
“You’re an expert on dead people . . . how come he’s stomping around?”
“I do not believe that being is alive. He does not have a heartbeat, and is as cold as ice. Like a corpse. Hence we believed him to be one.”
An undead axe murderer. “Oh dear.”
“I suspect he’s some kind of supernaturally animated guardian put in place to protect this hotel, or something in it. Or just to keep others out.”
“Like a robot guard?”
“Yes, especially as he accused us of trespassing. But he’s constructed of stone and electronics. A kind of golem, if you will.”
Okay, so this hotel had a supernatural security system. “Do you think someone activated him?” I asked, as we shuffled onward, down each tread, going around and around, deeper beneath the hotel. As the temperature dropped, my breath misted in the gloom.
“It’s possible. Or he’s automatically triggered.”
“A mean burglar alarm,” Zee said.
“Yes. To protect the secrets this hotel harbors.”
