I cocked my head. “You’ve had experience, haven’t you? Making humans talk?”

“I have. I didn’t enjoy it, but I’ve done it and will do it again without hesitation.”

Surprise flickered through me as I tried to imagine Zayne threatening a human with violence and maybe even carrying through with the threat. I couldn’t see it.

“I can tell you’re surprised.” A wry grin appeared. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Trin. I’ve told you that before.”

He had. “I didn’t think you meant that you were secretly a master interrogator.”

“All of us are trained to get necessary information,” he explained, and I knew that, but this was Zayne. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I know you’re trained, but I’m just surprised that you...that you would, because you’re... I don’t know. You’re inherently good.”

Zayne’s pale gaze was piercing. “No one is inherently good, especially not Wardens.”

My stomach hollowed. “Thierry basically said I was, and that was why he believed I wouldn’t turn like...like Sulien.”

“We don’t know enough about Sulien to know why he’s the way he is, and while I agree that you have nothing to worry about, neither you nor I are inherently good.”

“You’re right,” I said after a moment.

He studied me. “Does it bother you, knowing this about me?”

Did it? No. That was the truth, whether it was right or wrong. I shook my head. “Just surprised.”

That odd half grin appeared. “It’s something that has to be done, but it’s always good to learn the reasons of why a human was led to where they were. Knowing might not change the outcome, but empathy will make it an easier one.”

I thought about Faye and the coven members. They’d done what they did out of greed. “Is that why you didn’t care that I took out Faye?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say I didn’t care, but it had to be done,” he replied. “And it would’ve happened eventually, but at least this way, more harm was prevented.”

I nodded slowly. “Killing is... I don’t know. It’s...”

“Never easy,” he answered. “It’s not meant to be easy, no matter the circumstances.”

“Yeah.” I walked to where he stood by the island. “And the senator? Once he’s talked, what are we going to do?”

Zayne didn’t answer immediately. “We’ll decide when we cross that bridge.”

I had a feeling I knew what was going to be on the other side of that bridge.

I inhaled then let the breath out slowly. This was a part of who I was. It would always be. I knew that. “I guess it’s good that I feel weird about this aspect of who we are.”

Zayne touched my cheek, drawing my gaze to his. He didn’t say a word as he lowered his head, halting a mere inch or so from my mouth for an indelible moment. Then he kissed me, a soft, lingering press of his lips against mine. “I’d be worried if it wasn’t.”

I smiled at that as he straightened. “Ready?”

“Walk? Impala? Motorcycle?” he asked, hands hovering over the keys.

“You should know by now that I’m always going to take the option that doesn’t involve walking,” I said, wrapping a hair tie around the end of the thick braid. He grinned at me, and I felt a happy wiggle in my stomach, which felt strange after our conversation. “Motorcycle.”

His grin spread as he curled his fingers around the lone key. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

35

Traveling by motorcycle was much less difficult than by car, though a little frightening as Zayne cut in and out of traffic like he was in a race to beat his own personal record for how many times a car could lay on its horn.

I loved it—the air on my skin and the wind that tugged at my braid, how my thighs fit to his, and the way it felt to hold him this tight—but, most important, I loved how, whenever we stopped, he reached down and rubbed my knee or squeezed it.

Also, the fact that we weren’t walking.

I really loved that, too.

Zayne was able to snatch a spot down the road from the massive hotel, which took up nearly an entire block and looked like it had been transported from France.

“The hotel is beautiful,” I said as we walked down the sidewalk.

“And it’s old. I think it was originally built in the 1800s.” He kept a hand on my lower back as he guided me around a cluster of tourists snapping pictures of the tiny gargoyles and water spouts that were carved under many of the windows.

I sighed. “This place is going to be so haunted.”

He chuckled. “Just ignore them until we’re done.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

“He’s here,” Zayne said when we neared the entrance.

Under a blue awning stood Cayman, and I wouldn’t have recognized him if it hadn’t been for Zayne. He was dressed in a black suit—an expensive-looking black suit—and loafers. Actual leather loathers. His dark hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and when he saw us, he raised black brows.

“You look nice,” I told him.

“I thought I’d dress the part.” He glanced over us. “Obviously you two did not.”

I looked down at my black leggings and gray T-shirt. Zayne was in leathers, and I guessed we probably should’ve thought about how we’d fit in. Or not.

“We’re not here to walk a runway,” Zayne commented.

“But if you did, I’d pay for front-row tickets,” Cayman quipped, and I grinned. “You two ready?”

When Zayne nodded, Cayman stepped aside and opened one of the heavy doors. Cool air rushed out, beating back the heat. Inside, I knew at once I was going to need to keep my sunglasses on. I was overwhelmed by the dazzling bright lights from the crystal chandeliers, and the grandeur of the palatial lobby. I’d seen some expensive artwork and designs before—Lord only knew how much the Great Hall back in the community had cost—but this was insane. Everything seemed to be made of marble or gold, and I had the sudden urge to run back outside and wipe off my feet.

“Wait here,” Cayman said. “I need to get us a key to the floor.”

Cayman sauntered up to the registration desk and leaned in, catching a young man’s attention. I had no idea what he said, but within a minute, he came back to us with a hotel key card jutting from between two fingers.

“That was fast,” I commented.

“I got the magic voice.” He winked at me. “Follow me.”

We passed a koi pond and through a massive number of columns flanked by numerous potted palmy plants. Between some of the leafy green flora, I noticed a pacing woman, her hands clutching at voluminous violet skirts, who was surely a ghost.

We arrived at a set of elevators. Cayman led us to the last one, swiped the card and then stepped in.

“Come on, children,” he called out. “No time to spare.”

I lifted a brow as I glanced at Zayne, but he only shook his head as we stepped into the surprisingly cramped elevator. Light jazzy music floated from hidden speakers.

Cayman hit the button to the thirtieth floor. “I expect that, as soon as these doors open, we’ll be greeted in a not-so-fun manner. I can take care of them—”

“In other words, kill them?” I cut in.

He looked at me. “Uh. Yeah.”

“How about Zayne and I knock them out or otherwise incapacitate them, and you do something with their memories,” I suggested. “That’s what we need.”

The demon broker pouted. “That’s not nearly as fun.”

“You’re not here to have fun,” Zayne pointed out.

“Says who?”

“God,” Zayne sighed, stretching his neck from one side to the next.

“Well, God ain’t my boss.” Cayman rolled golden-hued eyes. “But whatever. I’ll do as you ask, but I make no promises about the memories I’ll leave behind. I think I’ll give them a new obsession with BTS, who have officially replaced 1D on my best-things-ever list.”

I opened my mouth, but the elevator came to a smooth stop. Zayne eased in front of me as the doors opened. “Three on the right, two on the left. Room 3010. I’ll take the right.”

“Excuse me,” a deep male voice called out as soon as Zayne stepped into the hall. “I need to see some—” His words ended in a thump as Zayne shoved him hard into a wall.

I darted out, my narrow gaze focusing to the left as a man dressed in a black suit peeled away from the wall, reaching for his waist.

“Nope.” I caught him by the shoulder and spun him, then grabbed the back of his head. I introduced his forehead to the wall and let his body fall as I shot forward. I heard another body crumple behind me, quickly followed by a yelp from what I assumed was Zayne reaching his third man.

The guy in front of me had grabbed his gun, but I was faster. Spinning, I kicked out and caught him along the fleshy inside of the elbow. The gun flew into the air as the man grunted. Zayne caught the gun as I gripped the man by the shoulder and used his weight against him to drive him to the floor. The crack of the back of his head told me he was going to have one Hell of a headache when he woke up.

“Nice,” Zayne said, tossing the gun to Cayman, who was kneeling by the second man.

“You weren’t too shabby your—”

Another man stepped out, his mouth open as if he’d prepared to shout out a warning. I sprang up and jammed my elbow under his chin, snapping his jaw shut and his head back. Zayne caught him as he went down, placing a hand over the man’s mouth as he jerked his chin to my right.

I looked up, finding that we were outside door 3010. I turned, waving my hand at Cayman.

The demon hurried over, replacing Zayne’s hand with his as he peered into the man’s wide eyes. “Hi. Have you found Jesus, our Lord and Savior and all-around psychedelic bro?”