Page 31 of On the Road

“Do you guys think this all feels a bit strange?” I said from my spot on the end of the bed.

“Indeed.” Victor looked up. “We’re missing something.”

“Seems like an average Tuesday to me.” Zee tossed another Oreo between his sharp teeth.

“Are you supposed to eat the merchandise?” Victor asked him.

“My agent didn’t say I couldn’t.”

“Zander has lived in relative harmony in his pink cabin in the woods for months, but the moment we visit him he gets attacked. That timing is unlikely to be a coincidence.”

“You think we’re being watched?” Zee asked.

“I’m certain of it. And whoever burned that cabin and attacked us didn’t want us speaking with Zander. He must know something.”

If the attacker learned Zander was alive, they might strike again. “Zee, we should take the van and go visit Zander. See if he knows anything that might help.”

“I’ll examine Cameron’s body,” Victor suggested. “Ascertain whether there’s anything that may have been missed or tampered with.”

I pushed from the bed, crossed the floor to Victor, and laid a hand on his arm. It hadn’t been long since he’d limped in here, beaten up and hurting. “Be careful. No more self-sacrificing heroics.”

His hand came down on mine and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Likewise, Adam.”

Zee huffed and headed for the door, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make it so we gotta save your ass again, vampire.”

“I will endeavor to oblige, demon.”

Zee had his hand on the door handle when a chirping from his pocket interrupted us. He pulled the phone free and grimaced. “It’s the hotel! What do I say?”

“Just tell them we’re on vacation.”

Zee pulled a disbelieving frown, but before he had a chance to ask for a better excuse the phone buzzed harder. Zee yelped. The phone jumped from his hand and clattered to the floor, and a misty haze of electronic static bubbled like smoke from inside, filling out into the figure of a man. A few seconds later and the ghostly apparition wore a pair of pressed black pants, a burgundy-red vest, and a dapper black bow tie. Slicked-back dark hair and piercing eyes speared into us like a slap to the face. Our djinn barman had arrived.

“What in the fuck is this shitheap?” Tom Collins said, recoiling at the sight of our room. “Even the stains have stains.”

I’d forgotten he was free range now, and could practically travel anywhere with a phone signal. “We’re on vacation.” I winced. “Remember?” I had talked with him about this—not about my brother, just that something dire had come up and we’d needed to leave town for a while—but something must have changed for him to be calling. Or he just felt like a rant.

Disgust was a whole new look for his resting AI-barman face. “You took a vacation in a hotel shittier than ours?” His lip curled as he gave our motel room a visual once-over, then made the same visual assessment of us. “Am I really goin’ to be the one to say it?”

“Say uh . . . say what?” Zee shifted his weight restlessly by the door.

“It’s better that you don’t,” Victor warned, probably for my benefit. So they knew this wasn’t a vacation? They’d always known. Everyone had known, of course they had. I really wasn’t very good at lying.

“I’ve worn shoes smarter than you three.”

“Do you even wear shoes?” Zee asked. “Like, actual real shoes?”

Victor sighed, already resigned to the incoming Tom Collins pep talk. “Interesting comparison⁠—”

Tom folded his arms angrily. “You leave the hotel at the crack of dawn, don’t tell anyone where you’re headed, and there’s some over-the-top nice guy asking after you who gives off more creeper vibes than Victor Reynard’s bloodsucking family. So, what in the flying fucking pixies is really going on . . . and if you feed me some bullshit line about needing a vacation I swear to the gods of djinn I will quit this shithole hotel and go⁠—”

Tom’s static figure vanished.

“Oops,” Zee said from his crouched position. He picked up the phone. “Just gonna turn it off. There we go. Ah, glorious fuckin’ silence. Also, was that gods of djinn or gods of gin? I feel like it’s an important distinction.”

“That won’t stop him for long,” Victor grumbled. “If he figures out where we are, he’ll call the reception desk.”

“There goes our discount.”