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Just because he left when he’d seen me looking . . . that didn’t mean anything, right? Not all vampires were self-centered sociopathic megalomaniacs. Just most of them.
“How may I help?”
I yelped, spooked by Larimer’s sudden appearance behind the desk. “Oh, hey, yes. So uhm . . . It’s probably nothing, I guess, or some silly misunderstanding, but uhm . . . there’s a camera in our room.” Hopefully my nervous laugh said it was no big deal.
Larimer glared. Had he ever smiled at all? “You do not like the room?”
“Oh, no, it’s not . . . the room is lovely, it’s just . . . there’s a camera uhm . . . above the bed?”
He blinked, turned to his computer, tapped a few keys, and turned back again. “We’re fully booked. If you don’t like the room, you’ll have to stay elsewhere.”
The room was lovely, and I really didn’t want to have to head out into the cold and search for somewhere else to stay. “Uh . . . so . . . does every room in this hotel have a camera?”
“Yes.”
Wow. “Is that legal?”
“Legal?” Finally a stiff smile cracked Larimer’s stoic mask. “Oh yes, it’s very legal. Why?”
“Uhm . . . no reason, I guess.” We could just cover the camera with something. Victor would know what to do. The luxurious room with its five-star perks was worth a little bit of weirdness.
“Was there anything else?” Larimer asked.
“Uhm, no, I guess not.” I stole a lollipop out of the bowl for Zee and smiled innocently at Larimer.
He glared back. “Very good. Don’t forget there’s free drinks and nibbles in the bar at eight.”
“Okay, thank you.” So, cameras in rooms was a normal thing. Why were they there? Security? Or something else?
Starting back up the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Stephanie Hotel was weird . . . and I knew weird. Weird was my middle name. Well, it would be if I had one.
Maybe I was just tired. We’d been on the road too long. A shower, some clean clothes, then drinks and nibbles would set us all straight.
Everything was going to be just fine.
You know where I’m going with this, right?
Yeah.
Everything at the Stephanie Hotel was . . . not . . . fine.
CHAPTER 2
Zee smothered the camera in hair wax, blinding it and muffling any microphone. We then searched the rest of the suite for more cameras, but came up empty.
Maybe the hotel didn’t have wards, so they relied on technology to keep guests behaving? It was the only reason I could come up with, but Victor didn’t seem convinced. His thousand-year-old instincts were sending out warning flares, but it was just for the one night. After some food and some rest in a real bed, we’d get back on the road tomorrow.
Unpacked, showered, and dressed in clean clothes, we headed downstairs and followed the hubbub to the bar.
“Fuck,” Zee gasped in awe. “Don’t show Tom Collins this place or he’ll quit and come work here.”
The bar was a Tom Collins dream, all shiny surfaces, well stocked with a vast array of brightly colored bottles, and lit up like a jewelry store. They even had a real bartender—not that ours wasn’t real. Just real glitchy.
I scooped us up three glasses of wine from a tray and handed two over to Zee and Victor, then we loitered near the edge of the room, getting our bearings. Larimer had been right; there were at least three other SOS Hotel management trios here, meaning our arrival didn’t raise a single eyebrow.
“Hey!” Another Zee lookalike finger-gunned us. “Bros!”
I waved, Victor scowled, and Zee finger-gunned back. The guy sashayed on, making the most of the heels he wore to put some sway into his hips. The sweep of his artificial wings almost took out a tall fake fae.
