I barely caught Wyatt’s delighted reflection in the glass door before Christian swung it open and we filed in. The rest waited outside until we made sure the place was secure.
Christian approached the desk and rolled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt. He’d left his silver jacket in the car. What looked like bulletproof glass separated a belligerent customer and the paunchy clerk.
“I want the damn key,” the customer growled fiercely. “You better give me the goddamn key and let me get my shit, or I swear to fucking God I’ll leave more holes in you than swiss cheese.”
Christian rolled his eyes. He preferred creative threats.
The clerk behind the glass took a sloppy bite of his Philly cheesesteak. “If you don’t pay in advance, we clear out the room. Rules are rules.”
“Itoldyou I was coming back,” the man retorted.
The clerk wiped the grease off his chin and black mustache with a paper napkin. “And you were two days late. No pay, no stay.”
The jerk in the brown leather jacket slapped his hand on the glass, green bills pinned against his palm. “Here’s your fucking money!”
“Too late. We changed the locks and threw away what was left behind. That’s what happens when you don’t pay up.”
I approached the counter. “Can we check in?”
The customer reached inside his jacket and whipped out a gun, pointing it directly at my head. “No, but you can check out.”
Like an action scene out of a movie, Christian snapped the gun in two, broke the man’s wrist, and knocked him out. It all happened so fast that the clerk didn’t even realize that Christian had broken a gun with his bare hands. Shepherd bent over and collected the pieces, casually walking off toward a trash can.
I eased up to Christian. “So your powers are back?”
“I only had that swill in my mouth for a second.”
I remembered how Christian had only swished out his mouth with the cider. “I forgot you like to spit instead of swallow. Sir, can we get a few rooms?” I asked, turning to the clerk.
“How many?”
I thought about that and looked at the rest of our party walking in.
Viktor stepped over the unconscious man to address the clerk. “We require four. If you please, we would like to sleep on the same floor.”
The man put on his glasses and looked down at his book. This place was like a time machine. No computers, no security guards, no card keys, no vending machines, spray paint all over the building, and water stains on the ceiling. It was a wonder the city hadn’t condemned this place.
“I’ve got two rooms on six and two on four.”
“What if we wait an hour?” I asked, knowing how the prostitutes rented rooms by the hour.
He shrugged. “Then you may have none. It’s a busy night. Cold out there. Brings people inside.”
“We will take.” Viktor waved Christian over. “Pay the man.”
The clerk reached behind him and took keys off the wall, each with a red leather clip that displayed the room number. He handed them to Viktor through the slot.
“The elevator’s broken.” The clerk chewed off another bite of his sandwich. “Repairman’s coming in the morning to fix it. Checkout time is ten, so if you want the room another night, you need to come down here and pay before ten, or I throw you out. Got it? No exceptions.”
Christian reviewed the prices, which included hourly rates, listed on the paper taped to the glass barrier.
While he paid the man, I moseyed to the stairs and glanced ahead at the group. “Watch for puddles.”
Wyatt suddenly stopped. “Hold your ponies. Do you meanpee?”
I moved past him. “Those aren’t the ones I’d worry about.”
Blue caught up with me. “I saw another dead guy.”
