Regge jerked his chin at the old guy. “You need him? What the hell for? He means nothing to you. You’ve left him on your couch for several hours and he’s dying. Look at him.”
Julian glanced at the unconscious man on his couch before looking back at the blond. He had thirty pounds on the kid, at least, but it wasn’t a fair fight. His nose was clogged with blood and snot, and his eyes kept tearing up from the pain in his face. Who were these people? He breathed out through his mouth, calming his pulse and his temper as he eyed the sword. It was three against one, and one of them wasn’t even human.
“Why do you want him?” Abraham asked Julian.
“I don’t care why.” Regge spat the words out. “His meddling has put Hunter in danger.”
“Look kid,” Julian started, his voice nasally. “Regge, right? My name is Julian. I work—or rather, worked—for a guy named Ramon Castenada.” He held his hands up and to the side, showing he was harmless. “He got himself involved in some shit at the hotel and died. It’s totally not my fault. But he waskind of my responsibility, and the people I work for, they aren’t forgiving, okay?”
He very slowly moved his hand to wipe the blood from his upper lip. A towel from his kitchen was handed to him, and he pressed it to his nose. “Thanks.” He pulled the towel away to speak. “The Castenada cartel? Heard of them? I’m a dead man if I can’t somehow bring Ramon back. Just enough to show the gang he’s around.” His eyes dropped to Shorty by the door—still out and looking far too peaceful. Escape was so close and yet so far. Where would he go anyway?
“You’re resurrecting your boss?”
“This guy can do it, I think.” He gestured at the old man. “He’s a… a—shit, I can’t even believe I’m saying this—a necromancer.” Bringing the towel up, he blew his nose forcefully, clearing it. It hurt like hell, but he could breathe now. He glanced at the Black guy. “You got a decent hook.”
Abraham flashed his white teeth but said, “I could get you some ice, I suppose.”
The kid scoffed as Julian’s mind buzzed. There were cameras all over the building. The rest of his crew had been in the lobby. Where were they now? Dead? He slumped in the chair and smoothed down his rumpled shirt. “How did you get past my men?” If he kept them talking long enough, maybe one of his lazy-assed guards would come looking for him.
“Easily. Pery’s crew moves a bit faster than yours.” Abraham handed him another towel filled with ice and upnodded to the man guarding the door. “Show him.”
The man shrugged as though working a sore muscle. Then he jerked a shoulder, an arm, dropped to his knees, and suddenly there was a large dog, drooling on Julian’s fancy Berber carpeting. No. A wolf.
“Holy shit.” Julian recoiled. “Fucking hell, are any of you human? Seriously, what kind of people are you?”
Abraham’s eyes flashed gold again, but at least the tail stayed hidden. “As I’m sure you know by now, the Fulbright is not your ordinary hotel. A place we’d like to keep under the radar. Which, thanks to you, it is not.”
Regge muttered, “Folk like Pery, and Master Anu, lived there.”
“Is that his name?” Julian asked. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t touch the guy. I only carried him out. I need him, okay? To do his special necromancer shit. But he’s been out since we left the hotel.”
“He’s dying. Has been for a while.” Regge kept his focus on the old man.
“Even if he was healthy, it doesn’t work that way. Necromancy is not something you want to mess about with,” Abraham said.
“Then what the hell were you doing with him? Because if that wasn’t some demonology shit, I don’t know what is.” Julian scowled and then stopped because his nose hurt.
“Let’s get the old guy to a hospital or at least back to the hotel.” Abraham paced the living room.
“No,” Julian protested. “I told you I need him.”
“How did Castenada die?” Abraham asked as he moved around the room. Thankfully, the wolf had returned to his human form and remained at his post by the door.
“He may rally at the hotel.” Regge ignored Julian. “There’s some kind of special energy there. If we want to get Hunter back, we have to go there.”
Otherworldly or not, Abraham seemed more reasonable than the Englishman, so Julian focused on him. “I didn’t kill Castenada. I didn’t. He was a friend, of sorts. A bit of an asshole too, but a friend. He was my responsibility.”
Abraham pulled a zip tie from his back pocket, waving it at Julian.
“Oh, come on.” But at the flash of gold eyes, he sighed and put his hands out.
“Does his father know? This big crime boss?”
“Not yet. They’re not close. If I can bring him back, then I can manage… something.”
“Sit tight,” Abraham said. “We gotta wait for the foot traffic to die down.” With that, he helped himself to Julian’s kitchen to make coffee.
Julian sat tight. Though they did let him go to the bathroom and have a cup of coffee. He and Abraham talked sparingly until the man left to check on things. He returned and gave Regge a nod. The Brit gripped Julian’s elbow and led him to the door.
