Humans.
The realization settled in quickly, bringing with it a flicker of shock before something dangerously close to relief. Becausefor the first time since stepping into Wye’s world, nothing here immediately screamed otherworldly or different.
Just…normal.
Which, if anything, made me more uneasy.
My steps slowed slightly as I moved further into the lobby, my gaze flicking instinctively from one person to the next. As though I might catch something out of place if I looked hard enough. But there was nothing. No lingering stares, no whispered reactions, no indication that I had just stepped out of something that shouldn’t exist and into somewhere that absolutely did.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I murmured under my breath as I took in the space around me.
“It’s so… normal.”
“Other than the girl currently talking to herself, yeah, totally normal,” Bo replied dryly from beside me, and well, he wasn’t wrong, as a woman passing by slowed just enough to glance at me twice.
Oh, brilliant. Now I was the weird one. So, without thinking, I lifted my hand to my ear, tilting my head slightly as though I was listening to something through an invisible headset.
“Oh, hey, yes, I’m at the hotel, and I’m just heading there now,” I muttered under my breath, nodding faintly like I was mid-conversation. Bo let out a quiet laugh, the sound laced with amusement as he looked up at me.
“Oh yes, that’s much better, so very convincing,” he drawled sarcastically. I shot him a look, my frown scathing as I dropped my hand back to my side, resisting the urge to say anything else out loud. Something that included the F-word and a new, colorful name for him that referenced the part of his anatomy he sat on.
But instead of looking like someone who still had an invisible friend, I started toward the reception desk only to feel thefaintest tug at the edge of my sweater. My brows drew together slightly as I glanced down.
“We’re not going that way,” Bo said before nodding in a different direction. Towards where the lighting dipped just enough to cast longer shadows across a section of the room that looked older.
It was easy to miss at first glance, tucked just beyond the main flow of guests, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
The vault.
The original structure had been preserved rather than removed. Showcased into a deliberate feature and built into the design of the hotel as though it were something worth displaying rather than hiding. Thick steel doors stood partially open, framed by velvet ropes and subtle signage that suggested it was more of an attraction than anything functional now. A piece of history repurposed into something guests could admire without ever really understanding.
A few people lingered nearby, glancing inside with mild curiosity before moving on, seemingly unimpressed.
“That’s where we’re going?”I asked under my breath, my voice quieter now.
“Ah, now you’re paying attention,” Bo replied simply.
And just like that, normal didn’t last long as he started to lead me into the vault, making me hiss,
“I am not sure we are allowed in here.”He grunted a laugh at that and told me,
“Don’t sweat it, girly, the humans won’t see us.” I looked around nervously before following him inside. My steps slowed without me meaning them to as I took it in. My gaze lifted instinctively to the walls lined from floor to ceiling with rows upon rows of safety deposit boxes. Brass-faced, aged just enough to show it, and each one marked with numbers that caught the light in a dull, muted gleam.
“Okay,” I breathed, my voice quieter now, more uncertain as I stepped further inside, my gaze drifting over the rows.
“Now this definitely feels more like a bank.” Bo chuckled as he continued to scan the walls, clearly knowing what he was looking for. I then watched as he slowed near one section, his head tilting slightly as his gaze homed in on one.
“There,” he said quietly as he stopped in front of one box in particular, my eyes flicking instinctively to the number etched into its surface.
But of course.
“Box number 666… Subtle,” I muttered, something he chose to ignore. Instead, he lifted his hand, snapping his fingers in a sharp, precise motion. And just like that, a flame sparked to life at his fingertips. Yet it wasn’t the expected orange kind but a vivid, unnatural green. It also seemed to burn without heat and was void of any smoke. Its ominous glow cast light across the brass surface of the box as he moved his hand slowly in front of it. The color deepened as it passed over the metal, catching on something that hadn’t been visible before.
A symbol revealed itself slowly beneath the surface, faint at first and barely visible. As though it had been etched into the metal long before the rest of the structure had been built around it. As the green flame hovered closer, the lines sharpened and began to take form. Lines that were delicate and symmetrical, shaping into a palm with an eye set in its center, a design I recognized instantly.
“The Hamsa,” I said quietly, the word slipping from me before I could stop it, recognition settling in just as quickly as the unease that followed. Bo glanced at me briefly before commenting,
“Given where I met your sister,” I’m not surprised you know what it is,” he replied, and well, he wasn’t wrong there. My mum had kept them everywhere when we were growing up.Small charms hung by the front door, stitched into fabrics, even tucked into drawers as though their presence alone could ward off anything unwelcome. She had always said it was a symbol of protection. Something meant to guard against the evil eye, against jealousy, against unseen harm that lingered too long or watched too closely. The open palm acted as a barrier, while the eye at its center ensured nothing slipped past unnoticed.
