Page 21 of No Rest for the Wicked

“While we have much to discuss, those impending issues are not why I’m here. I came to say I have successfully trapped a gremlin, but from the cacophony coming out of Zodiac’s room I suspect he may require some assistance.”

The room’s door lock snicked again and voices sailed in.

“—sure I left a bag. I’ll just check. Come in, let’s talk some more⁠—”

I grabbed Victor, hauled him into the closet, and clicked the door closed, sealing us in the dark. Victor had to stoop to my height, while frowning.

“This is unnecessary,” he whispered. “You are a manager⁠—”

“Shh.” I peeked through the slit again and saw the guest enter. A demon . . . No, wait . . . A demon and a human woman. They chatted about a missing bag as they headed toward the bed.

“Adam, this is a violation of privacy⁠—”

“It’ll look weird if we go out there now.” I glanced at Victor’s face to see his arched eyebrow over a puzzled expression. Squished into the corner, he looked a lot less Baron Reynard and a whole lot like my Victor. He’d left his whole life behind, left everything to join us at the hotel, and now he was squished in a closet with me.

I smiled, because he looked silly and adorable. He rolled his eyes, but almost smiled back.

“How’s the stay going?” The human woman was asking. “Much happening?”

“It’s pretty crazy.” The demon lifted the bed sheets and scanned under the bed. “Huh. I was sure I left it there.” He straightened and headed for the dresser, out of our line of sight. “I thought Cain was off his head offering me so much cash to stay, but there’s definitely some weird shit going down here.”

Oh dear.

Victor’s eyes narrowed. He twisted in the small space, leaned against my side, and squinted through the gap between the doors. Warmth radiated off him, and there was that delicious, spicy cinnamon and clove aftershave he used. Assuming he shaved. He was always so smooth-jawed. Did vampires grow whiskers? I could just reach out and touch⁠—

“The barman looks at me as though he knows ten ways to kill me,” the demon continued. “The walls are riddled with vermin, and the owner . . . the cute, nice guy? He has axe-wielding psycho vibes.”

I mean . . . Technically, he wasn’t wrong. Although I didn’t use an axe.

“Anything insidious?” his human companion asked.

Victor and I leaned closer together, cheeks almost touching, our faces lit by a thin needle of light spilling between the closed doors.

“Only—”

The closet door flung open.

Light flooded in.

The demon guest blurted, “What?!”

I opened my mouth to explain and nothing came out. Where to even begin? Hi, I’m the axe-wielding psycho. Sorry about listening in, but also, you’re spying for Gideon?

“As you can clearly see.” Victor smoothly stepped from the closet, unfolding himself to his full height. “There is a gremlin hole here and it is imperative the gremlin is caught immediately. So if you’d be so kind as to head for the door, any lost bag will be forwarded to you.” Victor guided them away before the shock wore off and they asked why we’d been spying on them. “Hurry along now. It’s a good thing you arrived in time. Any later and the gremlin might have attacked,” he continued, making it clear they were lucky to have survived what could have been a terrible gremlin encounter.

With the guests distracted and sent off, Victor returned a few moments later and stopped beside me. We both stared at the hole in the wall.

“That guest is spying for Gideon Cain,” I said.

“Not really a surprise. This is a hotel, where everyone is free to come and go. Gideon sending spies was only a matter of time. He’s likely not the only one.”

What if all our guests had been spies? “I suppose.”

A scratching sounded behind the drywall.

Victor grabbed the trap and flipped it open. “Get ready to grab it.”

“Sometimes it feels as though the hotel walls are closing in,” I said. “Do you know what I mean?”