SOS HOTEL: Friendly Sanctuary for the Fiendishly Fabulous by Adam Vex & Ariana Nash

Author:Adam Vex & Ariana Nash [Vex, Adam & Nash, Ariana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crazy Ace Publishing
Published: 2024-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Reynard was going to take me dancing.

Swing, apparently. Before we left the hotel, Zee began to impart some very important and sexually explicit rules about group sharing, forcing Reynard to clarify that swing was not, in fact, swingers, but a style of music.

We left Zee on the porch, his eyes narrowed on Reynard and tail flicking. He’d meet us at the club once he’d rallied the others.

Reynard settled into the back seat of a new car, next to me, and off we went. “Are you quite sure the demon does not have designs on my demise?”

“You can say his name, you know? Make him more real and less of an object to hate.”

Reynard sat very still, then breathed in and looked over. “Are you quite sure Zodiac does not intend this ambush for me?”

“I’m sure. There, see? Saying his name didn’t hurt.” I grinned and leaned back into the soft leather seats. “You’re doing great. This is great. Dancing is great.”

He continued to stare. “Are you nervous, Adam?”

I stroked my sweaty palms on my thighs and chuckled. “No.”

After waiting a beat, he said, “This will not be like our last dinner.”

No, because at the end of this one, the world would have one less vampire in it, and Baron Reynard would be missing his baroness. My heart thumped. Everything was going to be super fine!

“Adam, look at me.”

I did, and blinked through a blur brought on by too much oxygen. Reynard reached inside his jacket and produced a square piece of paper. He proceeded to fold the paper back and forth, making tight little creases. Not an easy thing to do in a moving car, but he managed it, smoothing it out over his thigh. And when he was done, he opened his hand, and on his palm sat a paper swan.

“A gift.”

I picked it up, afraid to crush the fragile, beautiful thing.

“Don’t you feel better?” he asked.

I’d stopped hyperventilating, so that was something. “Thank you.” I did feel better. Suspiciously better. Eyes narrowed, I asked, “Did you do something with this swan?”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know, ward it maybe?” I eyed the little swan. The angles were perfect. Of course they were. Reynard did not suffer messy lines. But who took a piece of paper from their jacket, with no creases, and whipped up a perfect swan like that, without some kind of power behind it?

He laughed so softly it was almost soundless in the muffled car. “Adam, sometimes a paper swan is just a paper swan.”

I laughed a little too. He was right. Not everything had to be a trap. Sometimes a paper swan was just a paper swan. A warm, genuine smile settled on my lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Despite the motives behind this evening, I hope you’ll enjoy the company.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Well, this was . . . nice. Kind of like an actual date. Which this wasn’t. This not-date was a trap, just not designed for me.

Reynard’s driver dropped us outside a vibrant waterside venue.

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