Page 1 of Icy Reception (SOS HOTEL #9)

CHAPTER 1

The Stephanie Hotel reminded me of what the SOS Hotel may have looked like in its heyday—bustling and vibrant. Chandeliers glowed like captured stars, deep-pile carpet squished underfoot, and the magnificent staircase swept upward with dramatic flair. But despite its grand scale, a cozy atmosphere welcomed everyone out of the Minnesota cold.

Zee spotted a highly polished service bell on the front desk and made a beeline across the foyer, sashaying around several groups of chatting people to reach it.

“Should we stop him?” Victor asked, lugging Zee’s bags as well as his own.

Stopping Zee from pressing a shiny button that said ring bell ? “That window of opportunity has closed.”

Zee arrived at the desk and with a dramatic hand-flick, smacked the bell with his palm. Ding ! It chimed brilliantly. Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Sir, there’s no need to use the bell when I’m right here and at your service,” the concierge said, looking Zee dead in the eyes. He’d been standing across the desk the entire time .

“It says to push bell, imma push bell.” Zee deliberately smacked it again.

Ding !

“Remind me never to gift him a squeaky toy,” Victor remarked under his breath.

The concierge also did not appear impressed by Zee’s enthusiasm. “Indeed,” he said, bushy unibrow burrowing deeper into his forehead.

“Kitten, we gotta get one of these,” Zee said, waving me over. He flattened his hand, about to strike the bell again.

The concierge snatched the bell away and set it down on the opposite end of the big glossy wooden desk. “My name is Larimer, your concierge and manager. How may I assist you this cold evening?”

I dumped my bag at my feet and patted my pockets. “Hi there.” Where was my wallet? “I just... uhm... Wait, I just need to find...”

Larimer, a tall man with a long Roman nose that divided his thin face almost in half, peered down that nose at me, then scanned Zee and Victor. “My apologies, but if you wish to stay, we do not have any vacancies,” he said, through thin, pinched lips.

“Oh.” My shoulders drooped, along with my mood. We’d been on the road for days, and our scruffy, creased clothes said as much, but if I had to spend another bumpy, uncomfortable hour in the van, I might shift just to set it on fire. Even Victor, who normally dressed as fine as one of those perfect mannequins in a menswear store, looked as though he’d spent the night in a dumpster.

Zee spied a little bowl of lollipops, grabbed one, tore off its wrapper, and popped it between his glossy lips. “You sure there’s no room?” he mumbled, fluttering purple eyelashes, then sucking on that lollipop in a way that not so long ago most people would have had to pay to watch .

“Uh, Zee?” This fine hotel did not look like the kind of establishment that welcomed erotic lollipop licking.

Larimer’s big unibrow dug into his forehead above his nose, making a severe V shape.

“Adam, make Zodiac stop,” Victor grumbled, standing back, arms crossed and watching Zee with growing alarm.

“Ah, I see,” Larimer said, his tone still level and direct. “You’re the lust demon, you’re the dull human, and you, sir, must be the exquisite vampire.”

“Uh . . .” Wait. What? “Uhm . . . We are?”

“You’re the third group we’ve had check in today, although your costumes leave a lot to be desired. You should have said you were here for the Lost Ones LARP weekend. All our rooms have been reserved for the event. If you give me your payment card, I will sign you in.”

Victor produced a roll of money and slid it across the desk. “Cash is preferable.”

“Cash? How archaic. Very well.” Larimer squirrelled away the roll of cash somewhere in the desk with a flick of that eyebrow that suggested he’d take his own cut later.

While the concierge turned away to tap on the computer, I glanced at Victor, then Zee, and found Zee’s perfectly arched eyebrow directed at Victor too.

“Where did you get the cash?” I whispered to Victor.

“In the last town we stopped at, I sold a rather expensive watch to a fae trader. Cash often opens doors that digital money does not.”

Zee grinned around his lollipop. “Sly dawg.”

“Names?” the concierge prompted.

“Oh uh, yes. I’m Adam, Victor, and Zee.”

The concierge sighed. “Of course you are.”

“We... uh... we are, though?” I took another look around the foyer and spotted a man with slicked-back hair wearing a long black cloak. He was not so discreetly gazing at Victor. Beside the cloaked man, a young woman was dressed in knee-high glossy black boots, a tiny pair of purple shorts, and wore a hairband sporting horns. Between those two guests stood a stocky short guy wearing a pale yellow T-shirt and faded chinos.

The three of them together looked so... familiar.

“Sick Zee vibes, my bro.” The young woman raised her hand, and Zee automatically high-fived her.

“Thank you, gurl . You’re outfit is givin’ too.”

“Right?” She posed for Zee, cocking a hip and bending a knee. “Yours is kinda extra, though.”

Zee looked down a himself. He wore a shirt, knotted at his lower back, cinching it around his waist to show off the arrow tattoo. His boots were tame compared to hers. Somehow his low-slung pants defied gravity and clung to his narrow hips. For him, it was understated.

“The contacts are cool,” she added, referencing his naturally purple eye color. “Nice touch. Zodiac has pretty eyes.”

“I really do,” Zee agreed. “Some say they’re my best feature.”

“But the horns are overdone.”

Zee touched his right horn, the one with the gold ring, his smile fading. “What’s wrong with my horns?”

“They’re cool, just not OG. See you guys later?” She blew us a kiss and returned to her group.

Zee blinked. “Hold up... Is that... Wait...” He looked at me, then Victor. “Yeah, okay, I see it now. But also, hello?” He pointed at his himself and rolled his eyes. “I am so obviously the OG.”

“This event is serendipitous,” Victor remarked. “If we play this right, we will blend in without revealing the truth of who we are.”

“Right. Pfft. What he said. But also, Daddy Spice, you could have tried harder. You don’t look anything like that dime-store Dracula over there.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “I resemble exactly who I am.”

“That grayman outfit will never do.” Zee frowned at Victor’s creased shirt and gray trousers. “Where’s your cape?” he asked, eyes sparkling. “And fake fangs?” A snarl from Victor gave us a glimpse of real vampire fangs. “Better. But we gotta fix the overworked CEO look if we’re gonna blend in. We need to get you a cape.”

“Over my deceased corpse.”

“Here’s your room key,” Larimer interrupted, handing Victor a keycard. “You’re in suite thirteen, on the fifth floor. Take the stairs, the elevator is out of order. And leave your bags, I’ll have the bellhop bring them up in a few minutes. Have an exceptional stay at the Stephanie Hotel.”

After passing by several more groups of costume-clad guests, we took the stairs, climbing five floors, passing more folks dressed as various Lost Ones. Some were Lost Ones, but most were humans pretending to be fae, vampires, trolls...

“Live Action Role Play,” Victor said, when we reached our floor. “Larp.”

“People dress up and pretend to be someone else?” I asked, guessing... and panting. Five flights were more than enough to get the blood flowing.

“Yes. It’s a form of entertainment and escapism.”

Bounding down the hall to our room, Zee said, “I fuckin’ love role-play.”

“There’s a surprise.” Victor waved our card over the door to room thirteen, turning the little red light on the lock green.

“Hello, handsome,” a short male human dressed as Zee said, striding by and giving us a little wave. His stubby strap-on wings bounced.

“Hello, yourself,” Zee purred. “Nice wings. ”

“Nice tail!” short Zee called back.

“One Zodiac is frankly more than enough,” Victor remarked, opening the door and flicking the room lights on. “A hotel full of them is a daunting prospect.”

“Wow.” Zee poofed into the cavernous apartment-sized hotel room, spread his arms and tail, and circled on the spot. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about. VIP treatment! It’s about time we got some respect.”

The enormous room was split into a living area, a kitchenette, and a double bed in the slightly raised sleeping area by the window. Double doors led through to a second, smaller room with two additional beds, but even that side room was twice the size of anything we had at the SOS Hotel.

“Oh, kinky,” Zee said, spotting the mirrors on the ceiling above the bed. He dashed into a little side room. “Oh my fuck, I’ve died and gone to a billionaire’s bathhouse in the sky.” Zee’s voice sailed from inside the other room, its echo suggesting a bathroom.

Victor followed the sound of Zee’s voice and disappeared into the bathroom too. “My, my, that is generous.”

This was... a very nice room, but wasn’t it a bit luxurious for us? How much money had been in that roll Victor handed over? Maybe he’d gotten tired of slumming it in the van and this was his throwback to finer living?

“Rub it, vampire,” Zee was saying, his voice echoing from the bathroom.

“I am rubbing, demon.”

“Rub it harder or it won’t thicken.”

While Zee and Victor explored the facilities, I wandered around the spacious suite. Colorful fresh flowers filled a vase, and the minibar was stocked with all manner of tiny expensive-looking alcohol bottles.

Straightening, I scanned the rest of the room. With its fine art and fluffed pillows, it was definitely more than we could afford. There had to be a catch. Then, in the corner, on the same wall the bed butted up against, high up where the wall met the ceiling, a little camera stared down.

A camera . . . in a hotel room?

“Uh, guys?”

“It’ll stiffen if you pump it, like this,” Zee said, clearly instructing Victor on something important.

“Guys?”

Victor emerged, wiping his hands on a towel, and Zee followed, carrying some kind of tub. “Hair wax,” Zee explained. “If he’s going to look like a vampire, he has to fix his hair.”

“I am a vampire.”

“Up there.” I nodded at the camera. “Look.”

They both fell quiet, and stared up at the little box. It wasn’t hidden, so it wasn’t for secret spying, but that didn’t ease my concern.

“The fuck?!” Zee folded his arms. “I am not doing freebies.”

A camera in a private hotel room definitely wasn’t right. “I’ll go speak to the concierge.”

Victor’s narrowed eyes suggested he felt the same creeping sense of unease as me. Zee scooped out a glob of hair wax. “You gotta rub it, so it stiffens. Then you can style it easier.”

“Put that in my hair and it will be the last thing you ever do,” Victor said, eerily calm.

Zee scraped the wax off his fingers, back into the pot. “Oh-kay then. What about a manicure?” Zee’s eyes brightened at the idea. “Yes, let me paint your nails! Fuckin’ rainbows! I can braid your hair. Oh my fuck, yes. Why have I not done that yet?! ”

Victor turned to me, deliberately ignoring Zee’s offer of a makeover. “Would you like me to accompany you downstairs? Please. Immediately.”

“No, it’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just some misunderstanding. You guys unpack. I’ll be right back.”

After leaving the room, I jogged back down the grand staircase. The lobby was even busier than before, and filled with all manner of costume-wearing people. I fought a path to the front desk, passing a message board that read: Drinks and nibbles start at eight p.m. in the bar. Zee would definitely want free snacks.

Larimer wasn’t at the front desk.

Ding! I chimed the bell, and while waiting, I admired the many different costumes on display. Some guests clearly took dressing up more seriously than others. There were plenty of cliché vampires sporting plastic fangs, and lots of pretend weapons—although some of them had been so well made they looked real.

A man loitering by the front entrance caught my eye, mostly because he wore sunglasses indoors. Slicked-back gelled hair accentuated a stern but youngish face. He leaned against the wall, possibly watching the crowd, although it was difficult to tell without seeing his eyes. He gave off hired-security vibes, but wore a puffy winter jacket as though about to head outside.

He pushed off the wall and left through the main door, letting in a blast of cold air that upset the capes and skirts of everyone in the reception. My instincts said vampire. I’d been around a few lately... killed some, and eaten one. I was getting pretty good at spotting them.

Just because he left when he’d seen me looking... that didn’t mean anything, right? Not all vampires were self-centered sociopathic megalomaniacs. Just most of them.

“How may I help? ”

I yelped, spooked by Larimer’s sudden appearance behind the desk. “Oh, hey, yes. So uhm... It’s probably nothing, I guess, or some silly misunderstanding, but uhm... there’s a camera in our room.” Hopefully my nervous laugh said it was no big deal.

Larimer glared. Had he ever smiled at all? “You do not like the room?”

“Oh, no, it’s not . . . the room is lovely, it’s just . . . there’s a camera uhm . . . above the bed?”

He blinked, turned to his computer, tapped a few keys, and turned back again. “We’re fully booked. If you don’t like the room, you’ll have to stay elsewhere.”

The room was lovely, and I really didn’t want to have to head out into the cold and search for somewhere else to stay. “Uh... so... does every room in this hotel have a camera?”

“Yes.”

Wow. “Is that legal?”

“Legal?” Finally a stiff smile cracked Larimer’s stoic mask. “Oh yes, it’s very legal. Why?”

“Uhm... no reason, I guess.” We could just cover the camera with something. Victor would know what to do. The luxurious room with its five-star perks was worth a little bit of weirdness.

“Was there anything else?” Larimer asked.

“Uhm, no, I guess not.” I stole a lollipop out of the bowl for Zee and smiled innocently at Larimer.

He glared back. “Very good. Don’t forget there’s free drinks and nibbles in the bar at eight.”

“Okay, thank you.” So, cameras in rooms was a normal thing. Why were they there? Security? Or something else?

Starting back up the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Stephanie Hotel was weird... and I knew weird. Weird was my middle name. Well, it would be if I had one.

Maybe I was just tired. We’d been on the road too long. A shower, some clean clothes, then drinks and nibbles would set us all straight.

Everything was going to be just fine.

You know where I’m going with this, right?

Yeah.

Everything at the Stephanie Hotel was . . . not . . . fine.