Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
The rocking van and slamming door roused me from my broken dreams. The bits and pieces of those dreams left me with frayed nerves and a mild sense of panic. Where was Victor? Zee?
Sitting bolt upright, it took me a few seconds to realize Zee had climbed out. He flicked his wings, stretching their sparkly leather expanses wide, and lashed his tail, loosening tight muscles.
Victor strode across the lot, heading toward the covered porch and flickering sign that read: Open.
They were okay. We were safe.
Rain fogged the windshield and my view of the single-story motel we’d stopped at. The SOS Hotel had looked just as beat-up as this place when we’d bought it—and it had been abandoned. I did not want to know what critters lived inside these walls.
Hopping out, I stretched my legs. Victor was right, we did need a break from traveling. A brief stop wouldn’t hurt.
There was only one other vehicle in the lot, a rusted pickup truck with grass growing around its wheels. Thumping music and murmured chatter drifted from the bar next door—the one with rows of shiny black and chrome low-rider bikes parked outside.
“Hey, Kitten, you don’t think he’s gone in there to rent us a room, d’yah?” Zee asked as I met him on his side of the van.
Victor was an ex-billionaire; he had standards. But he’d also chosen to stay at the SOS Hotel when we’d still had a few improvements to make, so those standards might have been really low.
“We should check,” I told Zee, and we hurried across the lot.
Opening the rickety door into a cramped reception area, a blast of sweet perfume tickled my nose, making me sneeze. Sniffing, I blinked through tears, and spied succulent plants of all shapes and sizes covering every shelf, counter, desktop, window sill... and the floor, leaving a little vacant path to the main desk.
The young woman behind the desk, with short pixie-cut brown hair, lifted her eyes and arched an eyebrow, taking in all of Zee’s seven-foot-tall demon-with-horns glory—he’d hidden his wings—then me.
“They with you, bestie?” she asked Victor, having already assessed him before our arrival.
“Yes. Is that permitted in this fine establishment?”
“Whatever. Welcome to the No Tel Motel,” she drawled, adding zero enthusiasm. “I’m Jenny—manager, cleaner, receptionist, everything else. We givin’ liminal-space vibes in a quirky way. The aesthetic is low-key cursed but make it cozy. Wi-Fi’s mid but it works, and the vibes are slutty core. We’re living for it, though. Cash only, we don’t claim technology in this establishment. You want hourly? No shade no tea, we literally don’t judge here. Room six’s available... actually most rooms are empty, but sheets are clean in six, no cap.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d zoned out from lack of sleep or if she was speaking an entirely different language. ”Uhm, there’s no tea?”
“Thank you, Jenny.” Victor took the room key from the desk and saw my face. “Adam. We’ll rest up here for the day. Zodiac can stretch his wings and you should eat at the bar next door. We all need the break.”
Zee’s tail flicked, and struck a stubby succulent, sending it flying. He swooped in, grabbed it before it could hit the floor, and delicately placed it on Jenny’s desk. “Oops.”
“Are you uh... sure?” I asked, spying a condom vending machine beside the tourist leaflets.
With a huff, Victor lifted his chin. “I have driven all night. You are tired, and Zodiac has talked for an insufferable three hours about his favorite cookie. Our stopping is not up for discussion.”
If we’d driven all night on top of the drive through the day, then we were a long way from San Francisco—which would explain the enormous trees, drop in temperature, and dense mist. That was good. We could stop for a while to recharge and figure out what came next. Frankly, we’d stayed at the SOS Hotel when it hadn’t even had running water. What could be worse? “Alright, I guess.”
Victor turned on his heel and marched outside.
“He gets hangry,” Zee explained to Jenny. “I like your plants. They are... There’s lots of them.”
“Yeah.” She flopped back down into her chair and buried her face in her phone. “Plants are nicer than people. Enjoy your stay at the No Tel Motel.”
That was our cue to leave. As we stepped outside, Victor cut a striking figure carrying his bag up the step outside room six. Zee and I enjoyed a few moments admiring the austere figure of our suit-clad vampire lord carrying our bags.
“Did you see the way those pants sculpt dat fine ass?” Zee asked. “And how the mist clings to his dark hair?”
A small chuckle fell out of me, prompting Zee to act shocked. “What? He needs to stop bossing us the fuck around, and then maybe we won’t both bend over backwards—or forwards — for him, amiright?” His purple eyebrows jumped.
It was true. When Victor said bend over, we both asked how low. “Maybe, yeah.”
“Helloooo... sex demon. He knows he’s a turn-on and deliberately struts around flaunting his big-dick energy.”
Like someone else I knew very well.
He started toward the room, and nodded at the motel sign. “No Tel? Cute.” Someone had either stolen the V and O from Novotel, or the letters had fallen off and the owner figured its new name worked just fine, leaving it NO TEL MOTEL . “If I get crabs from this dive, imma share them with you.”
We climbed the steps and joined Victor inside an orange and gray 1930s-styled room. The weird chairs were all slippery, frayed fake leather, and the carpet had so many stains I wasn’t sure what was supposed to be the pattern and what may have been left from a murder scene.
Zee froze a few steps inside. “This is where hopes and dreams come to die.”
“It is adequate for our temporary needs,” Victor said, standing by a dresser that was also covered in suspicious burn stains. He tugged at his cufflinks, jerking them off.
“It’s nice.” Nice was generous, but I had to say something.
“Uh.” Zee dropped the bags and grumpily folded his arms. “There’s only one bed, and as much as I love tropes, my fabulous self will not fit on that tiny mattress with you two.”
“Fear not, Zodiac.” With a step sideways and a flick of the wrist, Victor opened a second door, revealing the room over with two singles in the same migraine-inducing orange. “Adjoining rooms.”
“Your skinny asses can take those skinny beds. I’m too fabulous to ever sleep in a single. And I have wings.”
“Thank you for the reminder. We surely hadn’t remembered your impractically large appendages.”
“Are we talkin’ about my wings or something else?” When Victor didn’t laugh, Zee headed over to him. “Sassy Daddy is sassy.” He side-stepped up in front of Victor and with no thought for his own personal safety, booped Victor on the nose. Victor blinked. Nothing else. The blink was his only movement. “You’re adorable when overtired.”
“ Boop my nose again and one of two things will happen. I will perform an armlock that will debilitate you. Or, during our next intimacies, I’ll ensure you spend the entire time on your knees, begging for a release that will not come.”
Zee’s delicate purple lashes fluttered as his smirk grew. “Is there a third bad option, because honestly, both of those just make me wanna administer more boops —” Victor snarled, baring his fangs. “Alrighty. No touchy grumpy vampire.” Zee huffed and retreated to the double bed. “ Boops are bad ,” he air-quoted.
We were all getting restless and angsty, which was entirely my fault. Every bone in my body ached to apologize for dragging them so far north and spill everything about my brother, but if we weren’t far enough away, they’d turn the van around and head right back to the SOS Hotel. Where they’d die, making some grand last stand.
No, nope. I grabbed my bags and began to unpack what few items I’d brought.
After getting settled—which saw Zee poke into every cupboard, shelf, dresser, and hidey hole he could find—Victor pulled the drapes, blocking out any chance of seeing some sun, and stretched his lean body out on top of one of the two single beds.
“So uh... how far did we get exactly?” I parted the drapes and peeked outside. A few more cars had pulled up since our arrival, but the lot was pretty quiet.
“We’re outside a small settlement called Whiteacre Falls,” Victor explained. He rested his clasped hands on his chest and closed his eyes. “A few hours from the Canadian border. Is that as far north as you wish to run?”
“Run?!” I spluttered, then squeaked a laugh. “What? We’re not running. You’re so funny, Victor. That’s just ... If we were running, I’d obviously tell you that was a thing that was happening.”
“Of course you would.” His eyes stayed closed. “Because there’s no reason not to tell us when we’ll always support you, no matter what or how bad such a thing might be to cause you to run in the first place.”
“Uh, sure. If that was happening. But it’s not, so we’re good.” It was definitely time to change the subject. “Uh, Zee?”
“Hullo, Kitten?” Zee called back from the other room.
“What’s your favorite cookie?”
He immediately poofed into our room, making sure we had no choice but to look at him, meaning I definitely did not see Victor’s raised eyebrow or his pinched lips.
“Let me tell you all about the little-known cookie I have recently discovered.” Zee swept a hand through the air, then grabbed a nearby chair, spun it on its legs, and sat on it backward. “’Twas born long ago, in the human year of nineteen twelve, and has risen through the chocolatey, crunchy-cookie ranks to become the undisputed worldwide champion of cookies, decided by everyone with great taste. A cookie so delicious it might actually bring about world peace?—”
“It’s the Oreo,” Victor said.
All the dramatic air deflated out of Zee. He glared through narrowed eyes. “You, sir, are no fun. He’s definitely hangry.”
“What is this... hangry ?” Victor grumbled. “Never mind. If you mention cookies one more time, I will take my tie and use it to gag you—in a decidedly unsexual way, before you so much as attempt to arouse me.”
Zee hesitated, probably wondering whether to poke the angry vampire bear some more. “Adam, wanna grab snacks from the bar while Fancy Fangs gets over his funk? Then we can come back here and top up his lordship on Type A or O or whatever blood type dragons are?”
My stomach grumbled. “Yeah, for sure.”
“Be careful,” Victor warned, as we ducked outside. “Our notoriety may not have spread this far but I’m sure our arrival will spark gossip.”
Zee closed the door, eager to be outside Victor’s grumpy radius.
The mist clung on, making every surface damp and the air smell like wet pine, but it wasn’t all bad. We were outside, in nature... naturing. So, like a real vacation?
We crossed the lot, avoiding puddles and divots, before arriving at the bar which didn’t seem to be much more than a patched-up cabin. Stickers marred its tiny dark windows but the big long bikes parked outside gleamed.
Zee went ahead, pushed open the door, then promptly closed it again. “You know, I think I saw a vending machine at the front desk. We should go back?—”
“We’re here now. Let’s—” I reached by him to push open the door but he grabbed my shoulders and peered into my eyes.
“This is where sunshine twinks get eaten alive, and not in the fun way. You feel me?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just a bar.” Laughing him off, I wormed from his grip and pushed open the door. “We walked into Vampire Mansion, we brought down a sorcerer the size of a high-rise, and I once rode a werewolf...” My eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom. Various retro signs covered the walls, and nicotine smoke left over from the 90s stained the hanging lights. Plenty of shadows crowded the corners, but the bar counter was well lit and packed from end to end with huge leather-jacket-clad men. Emblems on the back proclaimed them the WHITEACRE RIDERS .
“So much body hair,” Zee whispered, sticking close to my left arm.
Where the jackets ended at necks, wrists, and ankles, the body hair tufted. Beards mostly, but also a few man buns and mullets and a whole lot of hairy arms.
“It smells like diesel, masculinity, and found brotherhood,” Zee added.
The group must have heard him, because all of them turned and stared, perfectly timing it like a strange hairy dance troupe.
“Erm, hi.” I raised my hand in a small wave. “We’re uh... is there uhm... food?”
Zee gulped audibly. “I think we’re the food.”
The two biggest burliest men at the counter in front of us shimmied apart, creating a tiny gap between them. There definitely wasn’t room there for Zee and me. “You grab a table. I’ll order something to eat,” I told him.
“Ah yes, a spot by the door will be perfect for when we need to run for our lives.” He left my side and claimed the table nearest the exit.
Released from their synchronized staring, the group of men went back to chatting, picking up their conversations where they’d left off as though our arrival had been a minor blip.
I eyed the thin gap between the two hulking males. I could do this; it was just a little snug... and they seemed like nice people... mostly. A growl from my stomach reminded me why we were here and urged me on.
A few steps in and I squished myself between two of the biggest men I’d ever seen. After hailing the barman, I ordered bacon and pancakes from the pencil-scrawled menu, while the hairy duo took sips from their early-morning beers and glared from the corners of their eyes. This was fine, right? We were all friends here. There was no reason for anyone to be nervous.
“I like a good whiskey in the morning,” I said with a beaming smile. “Wakes me right up.”
The bushy eyebrows on the guy to my right climbed his forehead. He nodded at the barman and grunted, “Whiskey.”
“Oh, uh ... I uhm.” I hadn’t meant for him to order me one.
Too late. The barman poured the whiskey and slid it over. “Five bucks,” he said.
“Uhm, right, I just...” I patted my pockets.
The barman’s glare narrowed further.
This was going so well.
“On me,” my burly barmate said, and nodded encouragement as our gazes met.
With a huff, the barman glowered. “You better pay for the pancakes, buddy.”
“Yes, of course, my uh... friend Zee has my wallet. I just ...” I trailed off as the barman turned his back and served other customers, his demeanor suddenly one of the sunniest guys you’d ever meet. Just not for me.
Sipping my whiskey, the warmth did help soothe my nerves. “Thanks again.” I saluted, and was met with those bushy eyebrows pinching together. The older guy on my left glared through his thick, dark, bottle-brush lashes. Maybe this was how they welcomed tourists? It seemed a bit icy, but I couldn’t really judge when our barman told most customers to get lost... but less politely. “Nice jacket.” I smiled again. “You all have them. Did they come from the same leather store?”
A growl bubbled up through my new friend, and the stack of pancakes arrived just in time for me to make a quick retreat to our table.
Zee brightened at the sight of honey-drizzled pancakes and a mountain of bacon.
“Come to Uncle Zee.” He spotted my whiskey. “Where’s mine?”
“I didn’t get much choice in the matter.” Glancing back at the bar, I found we were still being watched, and raised my whiskey with a grin that hopefully made it clear we were all friends.
“Sit.” Zee cut up some pancake and stuffed it into his mouth, speaking around it. “You makin’em nervoush.”
The men here didn’t look nervous. They looked as though they were buying time until we left so they could jump us, rifle through our valuables, then give us a stern warning to get out of their neck of the woods.
We tucked into the pancakes, with Zee wolfing down over half in under a minute, eating like he’d never seen food before. Done with his half, he shifted sideways in the large chair and draped an arm over its back, getting comfortable. “Those were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”
“I could tell,” I chuckled, shoving a forkful of bacon and pancake into my mouth and washing it down with the whiskey.
He went on to describe how pancake eating should be a sport, and how we should hold a competition at the hotel and invite the Razorsedge demons. He’d definitely win, he explained, but the event would be hilarious. His eyes brightened whenever he spoke about his friends, and a pang of guilt tugged at my heart. I’d made him leave. We’d go back. I just needed... a plan.
“Do you have family, Zee?” I asked him.
“Family?” He sat up, probably because I rarely asked about personal stuff.
“You don’t really talk about anyone on the other side of the veil much.”
“Uhm, sure. I guess. I got sold into soldiering real early on.” He plucked at his sharp teeth with the prongs of his fork. “I don’t remember much other than I had parents, but they’re a blur. Blood family’s not a big thing for demons. But found family?” He pointed the fork at me. “People you choose to love? That’s where it’s at.”
Like the family we had at the SOS Hotel. A bunch of misfits who fit.
“What about you, huh? I know you like”—he lowered his voice—“killed them all, so I get it if it’s a taboo subject.”
“Oh uh, yeah, no. It’s complicated.” I’d never told anyone about my homelife. I was different here—everything was different here—and talking about my real home and who I’d been before made everything I’d worked for at the SOS Hotel seem fragile. “We uh... so, we hatch. There’s usually lots of us?—”
“Wait, hold up. You fuckin’ hatched? Like a chicken?”
“More like a lizard, but yeah.”
He pulled back and blinked. “I did not see that coming.”
“Yeah, so, there’s loads of eggs in a clutch, and we hatch, and pretty much from the beginning it’s survival of the fittest. I wasn’t really all that fit, or big, or much of anything really.”
“Pfft.” He flapped a hand. “You’re the best dragon. Everyone knows it.”
“Yeah, but... I really wasn’t. I don’t know how I stayed alive, other than by mostly running and hiding... and then there was the whole prophecy thing, and all the family wanted a piece of me. I never really liked them much. Things got wild before I came here.”
“You’re not really into blood ties either then, huh?”
“Not really.”
“Can’t choose our blood, but we can choose our friends.” He winked, stabbed my last piece of pancake, and shoved it between his lips. “Hmm, sho good.”
The bar door flung open and a butch woman skidded inside, soaked through, with soggy leaves stuck to her leather biker gear and dripping hair. “Murder! There’s been a murder!”
Silence once again fell over the bar, and just like when we’d entered, all stares turned to us.
Oh dear.
“Uh...” Zee froze, then very slowly lowered his fork.
The grin I’d been sporting turned wooden the more I tried to convey the idea that everything was fine and we could all get along if nobody overreacted. “We uh... we just got here.”
“Newcomers!” someone at the back growled.
Eep. “We don’t murder people.” I winced. “Much.”
“Kitten, why you gotta be so honest? Now they’re going to think we did it.” Zee stood and stepped out from behind the table, drawing all gazes to him. “Okay, folks. Everyone calm the fuck down. Lady, you can’t just run into places and shout murder like it’s fuckin’ daytime drama TV. Where’s the body, huh?”
Right on cue, another man with a matching jacket stomped in out of the rain, carrying the unfortunate dead person over his shoulder. He knelt, and unceremoniously flopped the body onto the floorboards.
“That was not us,” Zee said. “Never seen him before.”
Four nasty claw marks in his belly were his likely cause of death.
Growls simmered throughout the bar.
“Yup, time to go.” Zee reached over the table to grab my hand.
“We can’t run,” I muttered, leaving his hand outstretched as I stood. “We’ll look guilty.”
“Oh great, so at least we’ll have the moral high ground while they rip out our insides. Read the room, Adam.”
That last part Zee growled too.
Admittedly, the room was looking pretty hostile. All the folks dressed in matching jackets had gotten to their feet and were closing in.
“Guys.” I raised my hands. “Let’s talk about th?—”
One of them lunged. I know, because Zee’s blast of sparks signaled he’d poofed from beside me to in front of my would-be attacker. I couldn’t see much of what was going on, just Zee’s back and his arm swinging, about to land what would probably have been a devastating punch. But someone grunted, then Zee was gone—swung around, off his feet, and slammed into the bar. The big guy who had hold of him locked a hand around his neck, but instead of Zee looking worried, he grinned. “Fuck yeah. Hit me, big fella. Give me an excuse to hit back harder.”
Oh no. This was not going to end well.
Someone lunged at me from the right. I ducked backwards, avoiding their grabby hands, letting them stumble on. “C’mon, everyone. Can’t we all be nice?”
“Get ’im!”
Zee dodged a fist to the face. That fist smacked into the bar countertop next to him instead. “Oh baby, such a tease.”
“Zee, de-escalate! De-escalate!”
“Escalate? Fuck yeah!”
“No!” A chair flew over my head and smashed against the wall behind me. “Don’t taunt the big angry people!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He poofed right out from under the big guy’s grip and reappeared behind him, then hopped onto his back, an arm around his neck. The big guy straightened and whirled, grabbing at the seven-foot demon on his back. “Dance, Hodor!”
Oh no.