Chapter 3
Three
I t was a pretty ugly sign. The font was too small, the edges gilded with cheap, golden plastic. They didn’t even have a logo. Not that it mattered now, since it was broken in half and rapidly getting covered in snow.
Luna shivered, looking up at Musgrove Inn. It was, as the reviewer claimed, rough around the edges. The roof was crooked, the porch needed repainting, and it had a general air of disuse.
She stumbled through the snow, clutching her suitcase and cursing herself for wearing such thin clothing. Her skirt was already getting soaked, snow leaking into her boots every time she stepped in a fresh pile. Her jacket was cute, but not prepared for a snowstorm.
She struggled up the ramp and burst into an empty lobby.
“Hello,” she called, tugging her useless jacket tighter around her wet clothes. “Anybody here?”
No response. Luna dragged her damp suitcase toward the front desk, eyeing a pair of buckets that were catching a steady stream of drips from the ceiling. One of them was overflowing.
“Not a great start,” she muttered as she stepped around the puddle. “Helloooo? Very cold, wet, and adorable woman here… I would love a hot towel!”
Nothing. Luna leaned over the front desk and rang the service bell. Then she rang it again. Then a few more times just for good measure. She did not want to go back out in that snow. Also, she had to tell the manager she broke their ugly sign.
She was about to start yelling again when a man stumbled out of the back room.
Whoa , Luna thought. She’d been expecting a minotaur or some sort of bird dude. As far as she could tell, this guy glaring at her was… just a guy. A grumpy, stupidly gorgeous guy with a too-tight shirt who was glaring at her like she’d kicked his puppy. Maybe he was a vampire. Or a shifter. Shifters looked human, right? Luna knew a couple of cat people in high school. They looked normal everywhere except that one time they got into a massive fight in the cafeteria and started growing whiskers and clawing each other.
“Hi,” Luna started, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. “Do you have a room available?”
The guy stared at her. He still looked annoyed, but mostly he looked confused. He looked down, and Luna realized with a start that he was holding a big fancy bottle and swaying slightly.
Luna let out an incredulous giggle. “Um, is there a party? I’d love to join, but I’m kind of freezing my butt off, so… Can I have a room?” She looked pointedly back at the overflowing buckets. “And can I expect my room to be as well-maintained as the lobby?”
The guy’s eyes flashed gold. He bared his teeth, and Luna gasped as she saw a hint of fangs.
“You’re a werewolf.”
“We all are,” Hot Jackass said. He straightened, broad shoulders getting even wider. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Luna said. She lifted her chin, trying to remember her Power Pose training. “Wait, the whole town are werewolves?”
“What?” Hot Jackass scowled. “No. Just us. Figured Claw Haven needed some wolves.”
“I hope they’re just as friendly.” Luna gave him her cutest smile, curling a strand of hair around her finger. “So… Cards on the table. I crashed into your sign.”
Hot Jackass blinked. He had very long eyelashes.
“What?”
“The sign outside the parking lot,” Luna explained, wringing out her wet blonde hair. She’d only been in the snow thirty seconds, and it had already drenched her. “I crashed my car into it. I can pay for it?—”
But Hot Jackass was already groaning, kneading his forehead with his hands. Big hands, Luna noticed with annoyance. Long fingers, big veiny palms connecting to toned arms?—
“Tonight is the worst ,” Hot Jackass complained.
“I said I’ll pay for it,” Luna snapped, irritation cutting through the Cute Girl persona that got her backstage passes and free drinks and that one guy to watch her car for five hours even though he wasn’t even the valet. “Calm down! God . Also, do you have a phone? Mine’s not getting any bars in this crappy—sorry—I mean quaint little town.”
“Sure,” Hot Jackass said, taking another swig of mysterious spirits. “Want anything else? A foot massage? My kidney?”
Luna let out another laugh. Who did this guy think he was ?
“Look, asshole,” she started. “I just got into a car crash; I’m wet, I’m freezing, and I just said I’d pay for your stupid sign, which doesn’t even have a logo. Newsflash: signs are supposed to be eye-catching .”
Hot Jackass stiffened, looking behind her.
Luna turned.
A tall, elderly woman with an envious number of layers smiled at her. Tattoos peeked out of her thick sleeves, winding down to meet her knuckles. She had this incredible air of calm about herself like she’d already been through everything and would gracefully offer you the solution if you asked.
“I’ll show you to your room,” the woman said. “Follow me.”
She started down one of the hallways.
“Oh,” Luna said. “Yay! Thank you!”
She grabbed her suitcase and stumbled after the mysterious woman, dripping on the carpet.
“I’m so sorry about your sign,” she continued. “ Seriously, I have five hundred in cash on me right now, you can have it?—”
“You can worry about everything else later,” the woman said, looking back toward the front desk. “Oliver, could you fetch another bucket for the leak?”
Luna expected Hot Jackass— Oliver —to sneer at her. Maybe roll his eyes. Something to match the overall vibe he’d demonstrated so far.
But he straightened up, placing the mystery booze on the desk. “Of course, Grandmother.”
“Grandmother,” Luna repeated as the woman led her down a beige hallway. “So, this is a family business? That’s cute. I’m in one of those myself; you’ve probably heard of it?—”
Her soaked boot caught on an uneven rug. She fell forward with a yelp only for the woman to grab her and haul her up effortlessly.
Luna blinked. Right. Werewolves. Super strong with killer reflexes.
“Thanks,” Luna said, picking her suitcase back up. She shook her wet hair out of her face, trying to stop shivering long enough to give a good first impression. “I’m Luna. Luna Stack.”
The woman gave her a curt nod. “Good to meet you, Luna. You may call me Grandmother. Everybody does.”
She pulled open the door across from them. “I’ll put you here. This hallway is for guests, and everything down that way are the family rooms.”
Luna stepped into the room. It was… small. Plain. More peeling wallpaper. One twin bed, a bedside table, an d not much else. At least it had an en suite bathroom, though what she could glimpse from here looked equally unimpressive.
“Go get changed, warm up,” Grandmother Musgrove continued. “Then, if you’d like, you can come and join the housewarming party. It’s around the corner. Follow the noise.”
Luna sniffed. The room stunk like mothballs. If she could smell it, how could the wolves stand it?
“Thanks,” Luna said. “I’ll see if I feel like it.”
Grandmother Musgrove nodded. Before she could turn around, Luna gasped.
“Oh! Do you guys do massages here? Not feet—like, back stuff. Or a seaweed wrap? I’m pretty tense after this whole… ordeal .”
Grandmother Musgrove stared at her. Her calm smile didn’t change, but Luna felt like she was missing something important.
“Not tonight, obviously,” Luna continued with a shivery laugh. “It’s so late! But maybe tomorrow?”
Grandmother Musgrove looked her up and down. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you!” Luna smoothed down her ruined hair, smiling hard as she waved the woman goodbye. Destroying her inn’s sign and getting into a fight with her asshole family member might not be the best first impression, but Luna was sure she could salvage this. She was a Stack, after all.
The shower was awful. Weak water pressure that took forever to get past lukewarm. Then again, even lukewarm was a godsend after being out in the snow.
Luna stayed in the shower until the water finally got hot enough to scald her, then climbed out into the thankfully warm bathroom.
Which, of course, was when Luna realized the extent of her clothing troubles. Her suitcase was drenched from dragging it along the snow, and now half of her clothes were wet. She pulled on her warmest clothes: a gauzy, long-sleeved shirt and the only full pair of pants she’d bothered taking because she’d packed for the Bahamas , goddamnit, not this Alaskan hellscape.
She was still too cold when she finished getting dressed. Lucky for her, there was a complimentary robe in the built-in wardrobe. It was scratchy and a gross shade of off-white, but it would work until Luna put her clothes through a dryer. They had a dryer here, right? They had to. They didn’t have a hair dryer, even when Luna turned the place upside down looking for one, but they had to have a clothes dryer. That was just basic . Probably. Luna had never actually stayed at an inn before, and so far, it was starkly different than the hotels she was used to.
She called Hector on the landline, glaring at her out-of-service cell phone as she dialed.
“All coverage, my ass,” she muttered as it rang.
The phone rang and rang.
Luna groaned. “Come on, babe, I know you don’t like picking up for unknown numbers, but your fiancée’s call did just cut out in the middle of nowhere?—”
Click. “Hello, this is Hector.”
“Hector,” Luna said. “Oh, thank god. I’m on a landline.”
“Nostalgic,” said Hector.
Luna paused. There was a lot of chatter on his end of the line, and a voice that sounded a lot like a flight announcement.
“Are you—are you at the airport?”
“I said I’d meet you in the Bahamas,” Hector replied. “Did you find a motel, or are you being eaten by monsters?”
“Nobody’s eating me,” Luna said. She rubbed her robed arms, grimacing at the itchy material. She should be pulling up to the airport right now, getting ready for glittering beaches and warm air. Not this itchy, freezing crap.
“I found an inn,” she said. “When I crashed into the sign right outside the parking lot. The front desk guy was such an asshole, but I met the owner, and I don’t think they’ll sue. I might have to smooth things over a little more, though, so I’m going to go rub elbows at some party they’re throwing.”
“Rough night,” Hector said distractedly. “But no monsters?”
“No, there are monsters.” Luna looked up as if expecting to find Grandmother Musgrove hiding behind a curtain. “Most of the townsfolk are monsters, apparently. This inn is owned by werewolves.”
“Oooh. Watch out.”
“Don’t be mean,” Luna chided, trying to pace and getting caught out by the landline wire. “The front desk guy was a jerk, but the owner seemed really nice! They’re family-owned, just like us.”
“Uh-huh,” Hector said, letting her know he wasn’t actually listening. “But the snow will clear up by tomorrow? They’ll show you how to put chains on your tires, and I’ll see you in the Bahamas?”
Luna rolled her eyes. “A little bit of sympathy, Hec! I crashed my car! I’m stranded in a leaky inn in the middle of nowhere, and all my clothes are ruined thanks to the snow!”
“Poor baby,” Hector crooned immediately, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You want me to call your dad and get him to reschedule the flight?”
“No. Easier if I pay for it. I don’t know when I’ll actually get to the airport.” Luna stifled a yawn. All this stress was exhausting. She’d make a quick appearance at the party, be her usual fun-loving self until she made sure the Musgroves loved her—most of them, anyway—then collapse in bed. Hopefully, they had electric blankets.
“Okay,” he said, unaffected once more. She’d always liked that about him: everything slid off Hector, no matter the issue. He was always there with an easy grin and a joke. It was what made them such a perfect match.
“Have a good night,” he said. “Don’t get?—”
“I won’t get eaten,” Luna said. “ God . Have a good flight, you warm bastard. Love you.”
“Love you,” he echoed like an afterthought.
The lobby was empty once again. The ceiling leaked a steady stream into a new bucket, the wood creaking. Faint music drifted in from the hallway.
Luna shivered, dragging her itchy robe closer around her. She was wearing socks, but she wished they provided complimentary slippers along with this robe. And a hairdryer. Her hair was a limp, frigid press against her cheeks.
She was about to follow the music down the hall when a flash of blue caught her eye. She looked over and saw the mystery booze Oliver had been drinking perched at the edge of the front desk.
Luna paused. The bottle was pretty, all slim and curvy in ways that didn’t match this small, shabby little inn. This was a bottle that belonged at a cool loft party. Or, Luna considered as she picked it up by its strange warped handle, a Halloween party. It wouldn’t look out of place in some fairy ritual.
“Or werewolf ritual,” Luna mumbled and snorted.
It didn’t have a label, but that guy had been drinking it. It had to be safe. And if it had wolfsbane in it, Luna would just get drunk a lot faster.
She lifted the bottle.
The roof creaked again. This time, it was so loud it overtook the howl of snow outside.
Luna paused, the bottle resting against her lips.
After one more creak, the wood fell silent.
Luna shrugged and tipped the bottle back. Shiny liquid ran into her mouth. It tasted… strange. Bitter with a fruity aftertaste. But the strangest part was that it was warm . Nothing in this room was warm. Maybe it was from the guy holding it, body heat leaching from his hand and through the glass, transferring into the liquid sliding down her throat.
Luna pulled back, smacking her lips.
“Huh,” she said.
Then the ceiling fell in.
One second everything was normal, just a steady stream of water falling into the bucket. Then there was a horrible crack that made Luna jump, wood and metal collapsing into the carpet to reveal a hole in the roof.
Luna shrieked. Snow swirled in through the hole, cold wind whipping her robe. It wasn’t storming anymore, but it was still snowing hard, and Luna immediately broke into goosebumps.
People came tearing around the corner. A succubus arrived first, tail arcing over his massive wings. Then a minotaur holding a vase of lilies, his snout falling open in shock.
“Oh, shit,” said the succubus. He turned back toward the hallway, calling down it, “Everybody owes Jackson ten bucks! The roof caved in!”
“The roof did not ,” came that infuriating voice. Then it stopped, Hot Jackass coming to a standstill in the lobby as he stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling.
Grandmother Musgrove arrived beside him, strands of hair falling out of her neat bun .
“What happened?” she asked. Her eyes widened on Luna. “Oh. Oh .”
An older werewolf stumbled to a stop behind them, panting. He was wizened and hairy, a burn scar blotching his chin and neck. His gaze fell not on the hole, but on Luna, an ugly scowl creasing his face.
More monsters poured into the lobby. Minotaurs with party hats between their horns, dragons in scuffed overalls. Chimeras, gargoyles, orcs, vampires, a mermaid in a wheelchair.
Luna barely looked at them. She was too busy staring back at the ever-growing pack of werewolves, all of whom were staring right at her. The scarred old man was still scowling; several kids were frowning at their parents in confusion.
Oliver kneaded his forehead. Luna could hear his teeth grinding even over the wind and music, which nobody had turned off. The macarena drifted down the hallway, heading to a crescendo.
“What happened ?” Oliver snapped.
Grandmother Musgrove cocked her head. She wasn’t staring at Luna, she realized. She was staring at the bottle in her hand, her expression opening in puzzled wonder.
“The roof caved in,” Grandmother Musgrove announced, turning to look at him. “Also, it seems you’re married. Congratulations.”