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“Adam, my dear? It may be best if you remove the leech from Zodiac’s leg before he regains consciousness.”

“Me?” I squeaked.

“Well, I am rather stuck in this position of support until Zodiac recovers from his swooning.”

I approached carefully, in case the leech lunged at me. The thick black worm thing was definitely stuck to Zee’s skin. It would be fine, right? Just pluck it off. Done. I’d once unclogged a gremlin from the hotel’s sewer system, so . . . one little leech should be easy.

“Please do not also pass out. I doubt I can support the both of you.”

“No, I’m good, I just . . .” I pinched the leech, or tried to, but it was real slippery and the slimy sucker was properly rooted in Zee’s flesh.

“Before he wakes up, preferably.”

“Okay . . . I’ve got it.” The black slimy leech stretched thin, then slipped from my fingers, still latched on. “Yeah, uhm . . .” My stomach flopped. I puffed, flushing hot and cold. “I just need a second here . . .”

“You fellas havin’ some issues?” A drawling voice alerted us to the fact we were no longer alone.

“Oh, hey uhm . . . so . . . we uh . . . we got lost.” I had to say something about why we looked as though the swamp had spat us out at the back of this man’s shack. “And uhm, we saw your light, and my friend here . . . he uh . . . he’s a bit squeamish, I guess.” I gestured at the leech, still snacking on Zee.

“You got a hitchhiker.” The rotund guy pulled a lighter from his bib-overalls pocket, flicked the flame alight, and approached Zee—still out cold in Victor’s arms.

The little flame reflected in Victor’s silvery eyes, highlighting their warning, but the guy didn’t seem to notice or care. He held the flame against the leech, for just long enough that the critter curled up and plopped to the ground.

“Bring him inside. We’ll get that wound cleaned up.” The big guy turned around and strode back onto the front deck. When he noticed we weren’t following, he urged, “You comin’? I don’t bite.”

I glanced at Victor, who after a few seconds thought gave a small nod and scooped Zee’s limp body into his arms.

Following the friendly leech wrangler, I shoved open the shack door and blinked into the gloom inside. Several other heavyset people sat around makeshift tables made of cut wood, used pallets, and steel drums. All eight faces turned toward us.

“Oh, hello.” I smiled, and raised a hand in a small wave. A few waved back, then returned to their conversations. Was this some kind of meeting place, or a bar? In the middle of the swamp? Whatever it was, the locals seemed friendly enough.

“Let’s get your friend fixed up back here,” the leech wrangler said, waving us toward the back of the shack to a makeshift bed of wooden pallets and old blankets.

Victor laid Zee on the bed but Zee’s height meant his legs hung off the end. He may only have fainted, but concern squeezed my heart at the sight of him out cold and vulnerable. Zee was always in motion, always flouncing here and there, tail flicking, head tilted, lashes fluttering. Even when sleeping, he twitched and mumbled. Being still wasn’t in his nature.

The leech wrangler approached with a piece of rag and an unmarked bottle. He poured the bottle’s contents onto the rag and reached for Zee’s leg.

Victor got between them, grabbing the man’s wrist. “Explain.”

“Just a bit of rubbing alcohol. It’ll hurt, probably wake him up, but as you guys have been swimming in nature’s pea soup, you’re gonna need it to make sure that bite don’t get infected.”

“It’s alright, Victor,” I said. We were safe here, I felt that much. Something about this place and it’s people . . . It sort of felt right. More right than Toby’s house, or the Stephanie Hotel, or even the Pacific Northwest. It felt like the safest place we’d been since leaving the SOS Hotel.

Victor freed the man’s wrist. “What is your name?”

“Hooper,” the big guy drawled. His tufty chestnut hair stuck out at different angles, as though he’d been wearing a hat that had flattened the top part. His large eyes were kind. “This is my place . . . a safe place. No harm will come to you here.”

Reluctantly, Victor nodded and leaned back, letting Hooper kneel down and soak the rag with alcohol.

“You may wanna hold him,” Hooper suggested.

Victor gripped Zee’s shoulders from his position behind his head, pinning him down.

“Ready?”

Hooper waited for his nod, then pressed the rag to Zee’s leg.

Zee bucked. His eyes shot open and saw me.