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“Right.” He smiled his I-know-what-you’re-up-to-but-can’t-prove-it smile. “The bartender is a character.”

Oh heavens. “Did you get your drink from him?”

He raised his glass toward his lips. “Oh yes, he mentioned the drink was custom made. He called it, now what was it . . . A Long Walk off a Short Pier.”

I barked a sharp, slightly panicked laugh, grabbed his drink, and dumped it into a nearby potted plant. “Tell him to fix you another one that’s not as custom.” I handed back the empty glass and smiled while he blinked. It may not have been poisoned, but Tom Collins had been listening in when Zee had asked if we had a detective problem. I really needed to find a way to fix him, before he permanently fixed our problematic customers.

The bar lights flickered. The jukebox spluttered, then continued belting out a song. Were our aging electrics playing up, or did we have an extra visitor? One who hadn’t been invited. I hoped Reynard had the shadowbeast in hand. He’d seemed proficient in rituals. He surely knew what he was doing.

I headed back out into the lobby, then out onto the porch, where several groups had opted to stand around and chat outside. The hotel’s windows throbbed with warmth and light, coming alive in the quiet San Francisco night.

Six months ago, I’d been hiding on the fringes of life, fitting in nowhere, running from everything and everyone. Stumbling through Demontown, I’d fallen over a wrecked demon sprawled on the sidewalk. Zodiac. Him and me . . . we were the same. I hadn’t been beaten and bloody on the outside, but on the inside, I’d been hurting.

Him and me, and the SOS Hotel? We’d saved it, and each other. I was going to save him tonight too.

A black stretch limo turned into the street and crawled to a halt, wheels crunching on grit. Gideon Cain climbed from the back of the car, and buttoned up his jacket as he admired my hotel.

“I love what you’ve done with the place Mr. Vex,” he said, climbing the steps and extending his hand. I’d learned my lesson the first time we’d touched and had no intention of making the mistake again. He dropped his hand, since I wasn’t biting. “Very retro chic.”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“Isn’t everyone welcome? Supernaturally safe for all?”

I folded my arms and leveled him with my most stern glower. “I doubt our world-class wards will even let you in, since you kidnapped my business partner.”

Gideon chuckled and eyed the front doors where people milled freely back and forth, laughing, chatting, having a great time. “That’s a big accusation for a man who lies with his every breath.”

“You should leave.”

“Where’s your vampire bodyguard? I must admit, I did not expect Lord Reynard to be riding your coattails. But then, there’s a great deal of mystery surrounding you, isn’t there Mr. Vex.”

“What do you want, Gideon?”

He finally met my gaze, then shoved his hand into his pocket and removed a slip of paper. I recognized it as a page from the Wilson’s Guide. He slapped the page against my chest and held it there, his touch fizzing against my glamor. I lasted a few seconds, but our conversation was garnering attention I didn’t need or want, so I stepped back, breaking his contact. The page from the guide fluttered to the floor.

“You should have conceded the auction, Mr. Vex. I always get what I want, eventually. You have everything to lose.”

“Get off my steps.”

“Why are you so threatened by my presence?” He snorted, stepping into my personal space. He had the entire porch to stand on, but had to invade my step. “We’re both business men, are we not?”

“I’m not threatened, I . . .” People were watching, and probably wondering why I hadn’t allowed an upstanding citizen like Gideon Cain to enter the hotel. I couldn’t exactly call him out as a sorcerer, not without risking him exposing whatever he thought he knew about me.

“This little masquerade of yours won’t last the week,” he said under his breath. “Now, where’s the bar? This hotel does have a bar?”

“Uh, yes.” I stepped aside and swept an arm toward the door, inviting him in. “Tom Collins, our bartender, will be delighted to serve you.”

Gideon smiled his broad, gorilla grin, and barged through the doorway. With the entertainment over, the groups went back to tittering and chatting, ignoring me once more.

The wind picked up, trying to whisk the page from the Wilson’s Guide off the step. I stomped on it, pinning it in place, then picked it up.

The wind tried again to rip it from my fingers.

The Prophecy of⁠—

Scrunching it in my fist, I stuffed it into my jacket pocket and ventured back inside the hotel. But not even its warmth touched the new ice in my veins. Shrill laughter tinkled in the air like bells. The jukebox played, but not loud enough to drown out my thumping heart. A few guests stopped me, thanked me, remarked on how wonderful the hotel was. I smiled, and swallowed every heartbeat.

Gideon was at the bar. Tom Collins winked.