slaving through the grind like the rest of us indentured servants. So imagine my shock when my Spidey senses led me to the gated palace of the Charlotte Hotel.
A massive water fountain stood on a thatch of grass in the center of the circular driveway. The place was a throwback to the roaring twenties set under the soft glow of antique lanterns. All that was missing was a bell hop, a couple of flapper girls, and some gangsters with machine guns. The place screamed of good living, from the cheerful valet who took my car, the openly gay concierge behind the check-in desk, to the piano jazz playing in the lounge near the lobby.
This wasnât the place that took kindly to loiterers, so I rushed to the wall of elevators as if I knew where I was going. I stepped inside and punched all the numbers, much to the annoyance of the elderly couple in the car with me. The doors opened on each floor, and I poked my head out in search of any trace of Caleb. The empathic pull grew stronger, thicker, all-encompassing the higher we climbed, so I knew I was getting warm.
The couple got off on the fifth floor as a young man with dark shades stepped in. Not that I was checking him out or anything, but the guy was well-built and dressed even better with a leather jacket, turtle neck, and black gloves. Definitely from out of town. He reached to push his floor of choice then paused at all the lit buttons on the panel.
âKids.â I shrugged and gave him room to stand.
He stared at me, not saying a word, and grew more fascinated than deemed appropriate for such a small space. Through the cover of the shades, he stared at me with a level of intensity that gave me chills. I glanced up at the tiny security camera in the corner and hoped it wasnât placed there just for show. I had half the mind to get off on the next floor and take the stairs when I felt that familiar tingle gain pressure against my spine. I leapt out on to the eighth floor as soon as the doors opened.
I sucked in a deep draft of air, reaching out for Calebâs essence on my way up the hall. I looked to the passage to my left, then the one to my right, and decided to keep moving straight ahead, following the remnant of French toast and conceit in the air. It would be just like Caleb to request breakfast at night. His brothers were no better when it came to food and I was sure they were giving the room service staff a run for their . . .
Why was that guy still staring at me? He mustâve gotten off the elevator when I did, and he now stood in that stoic manner that gave me the heebie-jeebies. The dark shades hid his eyes, but not the creepy vibe he was giving off. The feeling only got worse as he took a step and then another, gradually picking up speed.
Maybe he had a room on this floor. Maybe he was one of those crazy killers on the news that Mom kept going on about. Or maybe Lilith was using her mojo again.
Being male catnip, as Mia once called it, had a nasty disclaimer where the attraction could turn violent quickly. I was smaller than him, so I couldnât fight him off if things came to blows, but I was more concerned for his safety than my own. Lilith would shrivel this guy to dust before he so much as copped a feel, but Iâd seen my share of dead bodies to last a lifetime.
He wasnât shy about his pursuit, but took his time as if knowing he would catch his prey eventually. I walked to the end of the hall until there was nowhere to go. No emergency stairs or freight elevators offered an escape, and the solid wall ahead seemed to mock me.
I turned around to face my opponent head on. My heart pounded in my chest, my muscles clenched while I waited for him to make the first move. To my surprise, he simply turned to the hallway to his left, but his stare stayed locked on me as he disappeared around the corner.
I lifted my head to the ceiling and pushed out the breath Iâd been holding. My bag fell from my shoulder and my limbs relaxed under
A massive water fountain stood on a thatch of grass in the center of the circular driveway. The place was a throwback to the roaring twenties set under the soft glow of antique lanterns. All that was missing was a bell hop, a couple of flapper girls, and some gangsters with machine guns. The place screamed of good living, from the cheerful valet who took my car, the openly gay concierge behind the check-in desk, to the piano jazz playing in the lounge near the lobby.
This wasnât the place that took kindly to loiterers, so I rushed to the wall of elevators as if I knew where I was going. I stepped inside and punched all the numbers, much to the annoyance of the elderly couple in the car with me. The doors opened on each floor, and I poked my head out in search of any trace of Caleb. The empathic pull grew stronger, thicker, all-encompassing the higher we climbed, so I knew I was getting warm.
The couple got off on the fifth floor as a young man with dark shades stepped in. Not that I was checking him out or anything, but the guy was well-built and dressed even better with a leather jacket, turtle neck, and black gloves. Definitely from out of town. He reached to push his floor of choice then paused at all the lit buttons on the panel.
âKids.â I shrugged and gave him room to stand.
He stared at me, not saying a word, and grew more fascinated than deemed appropriate for such a small space. Through the cover of the shades, he stared at me with a level of intensity that gave me chills. I glanced up at the tiny security camera in the corner and hoped it wasnât placed there just for show. I had half the mind to get off on the next floor and take the stairs when I felt that familiar tingle gain pressure against my spine. I leapt out on to the eighth floor as soon as the doors opened.
I sucked in a deep draft of air, reaching out for Calebâs essence on my way up the hall. I looked to the passage to my left, then the one to my right, and decided to keep moving straight ahead, following the remnant of French toast and conceit in the air. It would be just like Caleb to request breakfast at night. His brothers were no better when it came to food and I was sure they were giving the room service staff a run for their . . .
Why was that guy still staring at me? He mustâve gotten off the elevator when I did, and he now stood in that stoic manner that gave me the heebie-jeebies. The dark shades hid his eyes, but not the creepy vibe he was giving off. The feeling only got worse as he took a step and then another, gradually picking up speed.
Maybe he had a room on this floor. Maybe he was one of those crazy killers on the news that Mom kept going on about. Or maybe Lilith was using her mojo again.
Being male catnip, as Mia once called it, had a nasty disclaimer where the attraction could turn violent quickly. I was smaller than him, so I couldnât fight him off if things came to blows, but I was more concerned for his safety than my own. Lilith would shrivel this guy to dust before he so much as copped a feel, but Iâd seen my share of dead bodies to last a lifetime.
He wasnât shy about his pursuit, but took his time as if knowing he would catch his prey eventually. I walked to the end of the hall until there was nowhere to go. No emergency stairs or freight elevators offered an escape, and the solid wall ahead seemed to mock me.
I turned around to face my opponent head on. My heart pounded in my chest, my muscles clenched while I waited for him to make the first move. To my surprise, he simply turned to the hallway to his left, but his stare stayed locked on me as he disappeared around the corner.
I lifted my head to the ceiling and pushed out the breath Iâd been holding. My bag fell from my shoulder and my limbs relaxed under
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