Outside the station, our group splits up between two hansom cabs, as each compact carriage only has room for two human-sized passengers. I ride with Monty, Daphne in my lap. My nose is practically pressed to the window as we enter the heart of the city. Even before noon, the streets are crowded with other horse-drawn cabs and coaches, while the sidewalks teem with people. The buildings tower high overhead, taller than any I’ve seen before.
I release a gasp. “This city is beautiful.”
“If you’re impressed now,” Monty says, “wait until you see it at night. Lumenas was made for its nightlife.”
I can’t imagine how much more stunning it could possibly be. Morning sun glints off the windows of the tallest buildings, illuminating jugglers and other performers who grace the street corners. We pass glittering storefronts, opera houses, restaurants, and luxury apartments. Meanwhile, the people appear to be an even mix of human and fae, pointed ears, animal features, and extravagant costumes standing out in equal measure to modestly dressed, round-eared patrons. It’s the most diverse blend of people I’ve seen in any of the cities we’ve been in.
I bring this up to Monty.
“Lumenas attracts tourists,” Monty says, fiddling with an unlit cigarillo, “many of which are human. Yet a great number of the performers, residents, and staff are fae, and certain areas in the city discard human propriety entirely. There truly is something for everyone here.”
“I know why you like it, Monty,” Daphne says from my lap. “One of Lumenas’ nicknames is Den of Debauchery.”
He casts an affronted look at the pine marten. “I, a debaucher? I’m insulted.”
She scoffs. “You’ve been flipping that same cigarillo between your fingers since we got here. You’re just wondering where you might find more of that Moonpetal Mr. Somerton gave you, aren’t you?”
“Right you are, Daffy. A little Moonpetal, an amateur boxing match. I’m already planning the perfect night.”
“You better not try to claim a boxing match as a business expense.”
“I have money of my own, you know.”
I grin as their banter continues, and I take in every street, every sight, every building. Finally, our cab stops outside a hotel so tall that I couldn’t count the number of floors if I tried. William and Zane exit their cab behind us, and our party reconvenes.
William sidles into me as we enter the hotel lobby. “How do you like Lumenas?”
“I love it.” I turn in a circle as we walk, staring at the marble floors, the white-and-gold papered walls, the crystal chandeliers. “Monty went all out when he picked this hotel. This must be the finest hotel in the city.”
“You love it, hmm? Is that all it takes for you to fall in love? A single glance?” William’s question has me tripping over my own feet. His hand comes to my elbow to help me regain my footing. We pause our steps. He leans in, his body closer to me than it’s been since our time alone in his hotel room. “I didn’t think you were one to fall in love at first sight.”
I recover my wits and give him a haughty look. “That’s because you’ve only been on the receiving end of my hate at first sight.”
His hand still holds my elbow. He brushes his thumb over my sleeve before letting his fingers fall back to his side. A deviousglint sparks in his eyes. “That didn’t feel like hate when you were pumping my cock.”
My heart flips in my chest. Thank heavens our companions are now several feet ahead. I clear my throat before I deliver my answer. “I barely pumped it more than three times if you’ll recall. Besides, I was pretending it was your neck.”
“Mmm. I might like that.”
My cheeks burn hot as we finally rejoin our party. Almost at once, I can tell something is amiss.
“What do you mean there’s something wrong with our booking?” Monty says, his tone serious for once. “I made these reservations months ago. I sent a telegram last week to confirm we would need a second room.”
I study the stern receptionist. Her skin is covered in glittering green scales and her eyes are aqua blue, devoid of any discernible whites or pupils. She flips through the ledger on her desk. “I don’t see any record of your telegram, Mr. Phillips. We sent one as well to confirm but never received a reply.”
“What does that mean?” Monty asks. “Do we have at least one room?”
“Oh no.” Realization dawns at once, and I give the receptionist a solemn look. “I know what this is. I’ve written about it. There’s only one bed, isn’t there?”
“I liked that one,” Daphne says, staring up at me from near my feet. “Your attention to detail in that scene was impeccable. I particularly appreciated the emphasis you put on the headboard slamming against the wall and creating hairline fractures in the brick. It really demonstrated?—”
“There arenobeds,” the receptionist says. “We’ve been overbooked due to clerical errors and can only accommodate those who confirmed their booking last week. You’ll receive a refund and a voucher for free Lumies from any vendor in the city.”
“What are Lumies?” I ask.
Zane answers, their expression brightening. “You must try Lumies. They’re delicious.”
Monty runs a hand through his pale hair, sending his curls in charming disarray. “Can you transfer our booking to another hotel?”
