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“The golem probably had the key on him this whole time, and it fell out in the closet.”

“That is likely,” Victor agreed.

“But we didn’t trigger him, right? We haven’t actually done anything to the hotel, have we?”

“No, but the new management may have. I suspect their takeover triggered the golem, and they’ve been keeping people locked in their hotel rooms to keep them safe . . . and to keep the golem’s presence a secret.”

“Imma just say it . . . Was kinda suspicious that Wes didn’t show, and bam, a grumpy golem throws an axe at my face. Just putting that out there.”

It was a little suspicious, but Wesley may have had other reasons for not being at our meeting. The management may have gotten to him before he could meet us . . . or he could have changed his mind, as Zee had been very clear about not wanting a vampire to tag along.

“You know I’m right.”

“Probably,” Victor admitted.

“Point to the sexy demon. And thank you Lord Fancy Fangs for the save, it was very welcome. Also, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you go feral. I need to get into more fights just to see you lose your cool.”

“You’re welcome, Zodiac, but please refrain from unnecessary confrontation. I do not enjoy my feral state, as you say.”

We shuffled further down the narrow staircase, and while the ambient light from the foyer dimmed, a fresh, cool-blue light illuminated the way ahead. Gooseflesh prickled over my arms. Whatever was down here, it was cold and probably not all that welcoming.

Why were we doing this again?

Victor hesitated on a step and turned. “Adam?” He’d heard my teeth chattering.

“I’m good.” Just as long as I didn’t stay in the cold too long. I’d begun to learn that maybe I might be more susceptible to the cold than Victor or Zee.

The tight spiral stairwell finally fanned open into a low-ceilinged cellar made of brick archways and chambers with metal doors, four on each side. Cool mist and an eerie blue light seeped out from beneath each of the chamber doors.

“What is this creepy-ass place?” Zee whispered. He was able to stand upright now that the curved ceiling arched high enough to accommodate his horns.

“Bomb shelter?” I guessed, uncertain. It seemed sturdy enough.

“Wine cellar.” Victor approached the nearest chamber door and peeked through a small window. “Hm.”

“Hm?” Zee echoed, then strode to the next doorway and stooped to get a look through the tiny window. A rectangle of blue light illuminated his face. “When you said hm, what you actually meant was what the fuck, right? Because that’s a whole lot of what the fuck in there. Kitten, take a look.”

I really did not want to do that. “Do I have to? It’s bad, right? Just tell me. I don’t need to see.”

Zee rolled his eyes. “We can’t leave, we’re heroes, blah blah,” he whined, in a terrible imitation of my voice.

Shivering, I stepped up to the door, stood on my toes, and peered over the bottom edge of the tiny window. Inside, enormous glass containers held frozen people, like giant human popsicles lit by eerie blue light. Cold steam wafted off them—the same vapor mist that was crawling under the doors.

“The mist you see coming off the frozen individuals is condensation in the air,” Victor said, still gazing through the tiny window. “The frozen people are cooling the air around them making the water vapor in the air condense, forming a miniature cloud. It’s really rather beautiful.”

Zee and I both stared at Victor.

He looked over and blinked. “What?”

“You do see the dead people, right?” Zee asked him.

“Of course. But you have to admit, science is fascinating.”

“Not while we’ve got Frosty the Fuckin’ Psycho Snowman adding people to his icy collection we fuckin’ don’t.”

“We don’t actually know who’s doing this,” I pointed out. “Or why.” But it was creepy, for sure. Stepping back from the door, I blew into my cupped hands to try and thaw my fingers. The cold was in my bones now, making them ache.

“Why would a riddle on an ancient key bring us down here?” Zee asked. “I’m not seeing any treasure, Kitten. This is the opposite of treasure . . . it’s trouble.”