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“It’s a maximum security prison for Lost Ones.”

“Oh.” His face fell, then brightened. “That’s why we’re all wearing orange. Orange is fab.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Why would Tom Collins tell Zander go to the hotel, only to have the SSD jump him as soon as he arrived?

He flapped a hand. “I’m sure it will all get sorted out. At least it’s warm here, and dry. I needed a change of scenery. Do you mind if I take a nap? That bus ride over was super aggressive.”

“Sure . . .”

Zander made himself comfortable, and was out like a light and snoring within a few minutes.

Arrested for trespassing in a hotel wasn’t a thing, was it? Unless my brother had spotted him, and knowing we’d met had wanted him gone. And it sounded as though Tom Collins was up to something. But what?

CHAPTER 19

At dinner, we were all filed out of our cells and watched by guards with stun guns while they herded us into the mess hall. Zander was excited for potatoes and stew, and once we’d found an empty table, he tucked into his with gusto. I wasn’t hungry, and instead searched the crowd for Victor or Zee . . . then I spotted Zee chatting with another demon. His gaze wandered toward me. I shot to my feet and waved.

Zee’s grin lit up. He strode over, weaving around tables—not running, but close to it—and with only a few steps to go, he opened his arms to scoop me into a hug. “Kitten⁠—”

“No physical contact!”

Zee pulled up short, and shot a look of imma murder you later to the guard.

We sat instead, and Zee spotted Zander wolfing down his dinner.

“Zander?” Zee blinked, as though disbelieving what his own eyes were telling him.

“This stew is so good!”

“What are you doing here, buddy?” Zee asked.

“No idea, but free food is a win, right?” He grinned around a mouthful.

“For real,” Zee agreed, then frowned at me. I briefly told him about Tom Collins calling Zander. He wasn’t buying it either. Zander was a harmless labrador compared to the other con artist and killer Lost Ones surrounding us. “Have you seen Vic? He’d know⁠—”

“I am here, my dears,” Victor slid into the seat next to mine. He reached out and grasped my hand, giving it a secret squeeze, then let go before the guards could notice.

“Sweet baby Gareth, orange is not your fucking color,” Zee said, grinning. “But it sure feels good to know you’re okay, vampire.”

“Likewise, demon.” They shared a soft, lingering look, filled with longing. The table between the three of us felt like a bottomless chasm.

“Adam, were you aware Hooper is also here?” Victor asked.

“The frog shifter?” I knew who he was, it just didn’t make sense that he’d be here too.

Victor nodded. “He was apprehended the same time we were.”

“But he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t need to.” Zee shuddered. “Frogs are the fucking worst. Hiroshima? Frogs did it.”

“Zee, Hooper’s nice. He fixed your leeches, remember?”

“One nice frog . . . One. Like there’s one nice vampire . . . Ours. The rest are psychopaths. Did you guys know frogs use their eyes to swallow. Nobody should use their own eyeballs for anything other than lookin’. It’s fuckin’ messed up and weird.”

“Indeed . . .” Victor sighed. “May I continue?”

“Yes,” Zee said with a wrist-flick. “Fancy Fangs, you may.”