Faust stood to the left near a clump of rhododendrons I'd been meaning to yank out. They grew too close to the foundation, which, despite the rest of this place, was solid. The Hotel Royal Paynes, while a poor business decision from inception, had been built as sturdy as a rock.
Faust looked over his shoulder at us—Dog must've been inside protesting as well— stuffing something in his pocket at the same time. He caught my eye, but we'd both heard the car pull down our driveway—it was a little impossible not to with that muffler—so whatever he had to say would have to wait.
Faust winced. His affinity for machines made it difficult for him to stand idly by when he came in contact with an engine in trouble.
Hallie's car pulled around the final bend, her side window snagging on a blackberry bramble that had grown in after we'd chopped them back. Her old, boxy blue Volvo sounded no better from close up. When she pulled to a stop beside the crumbling fountain, her engine sputtered and choked, hissing like it had given up on life when she cut the power and opened the door.
She climbed out. Two thick braids swayed with the movement as she hung over her door, peering up at the hotel as she pushed her aviator sunglasses up her nose and over her forehead. "This place looks as bad as it did when I was a kid. Smoked weed for the first time right over there." She sighed wistfully.
My eyebrows dipped. The building was still under repair. We weren't finished with it. I'd known when we'd bought the place that the building was something of a local legend. We'd cleaned out enough beer cans and liquor bottles to know it had been a popular hangout. But it wasn't that same place anymore. Maybe it wasn't home—that had been destroyed—but it was a place we slept, and that made it important.
Jazz squeezed my hand, letting me know I'd been quietly growling.
Before, when my men and I had worked to support our pack, we'd taken pride in our homes. There wasn't a house or structure on pack lands that wasn't perfectly maintained. With the money our alpha team had pulled in and our people's know-how, we'd become entirely self-sufficient. This hotel wasn't any of that, but it was where I kept Jazz.
All I could see now when I looked back at the hotel were the cracks, chips, and rust stains.
"I'm glad you came," Jazz effused. "Now you can put all your worries to rest."
"I wasn't worried by the time you all left." Hallie climbed over the driver's seat to grab something sitting on the passenger side. "Door's broken," she chirped at our questioning looks. She held out two glass casserole dishes. "This is more of an apology. A peace offering. I've got lasagna and cinnamon rolls. Homemade."
"Cream cheese icing?" Faust perked up.
"Yes." Hallie nodded, looking Faust up and down. "Now who's this one?"
"My name's Faust," he replied, his gentler tone reflecting how much he wanted at those cinnamon rolls.
Doubt settled over Hallie's round features. Her eyes hazel eyes narrowed. "You live here too?"
Faust leaned his weight back, realizing he wouldn't be getting to the tray of desserts any time soon. "We're—"
"Cousins," Jazz supplied eagerly.
I arched my brow at him, but he just blinked those pretty brown eyes at me. Slinging a possessive arm over his shoulders, I faced Hallie. "Yep, cousins."
"And those two from the car? From last time?"
If it worked once… "Cousins too."
"Four cousins living in one house together? With Jazz? That sounds really strange." She stepped back, closer to her car. Her heart beat a little faster than it had only a minute ago.
I wasn't the only one to recognize her uneasiness. Jazz didn't even need heightened senses.
"It isn't as bad as what you're thinking," Jazz replied brightly. "Knox and the others have actually done a lot of work inside. It's still in progress, but the place is so big. There's a ballroom and indoor pool—though it's mostly filled with frogs right now. Still, I could go a whole day wandering without seeing one of them."
That wasn't even a lie. Neither of us had seen Diesel in days.
"How about I show you around?" I let him slide out from under my arm, though not without effort. His shoes crunched over the cracked pavement as he slowly approached Hallie.
"I didn't bring enough for five of you—"
"That's okay," Faust said, holding his hands out. "I'll carry that for you."
Hallie clung to the dishes. "I've got 'em," she said stiffly.
Smart woman must've seen the gleam of hunger in Faust's eye. I didn't blame him. It had taken Jazz's arrival just for me to buy groceries. We hadn't had a home-cooked meal—by someone with even an inkling of skill—in years.
"Jazz, take Hallie inside to the meeting room next to the kitchen." If we sat down to eat, which we didn't do often, we sat in that room. Mostly because it was closest to the kitchen, but it had also remained a little more preserved than the other rooms, and cleaning it out hadn't required as much demolition.
Hallie's eyes slid from Faust to me and then Jazz, her gaze only softening at the end. She looked me dead in the eye. "People know where I am."
Jazz took her inside, leaving Faust and me to watch them go.
"She invited herself here today, right?" Faust asked.
"Damn near demanded it." I figured Jazz could handle the woman for a few seconds. "What was that before? Did you find something?"
Faust grimaced. "It's why I have Dog inside." Faust turned, staring into the forest. "Weird things have been happening."
I didn't have any room on my plate for more bullshit, but Faust wasn't an easily spooked sort of guy. "What kind of things?"
"Read this."
He handed me a small bit of paper. The edges were torn from what I assumed was a journal or bound notebook. One side was blank, and the other said in elegant, sloping letters, "Green…so much green."
It wasn't exactly a cry for help. Or a cry for anything. More statement of fact.
"It is green around here."
Faust snatched it back, shoving the slip in his pocket. "A squirrel gave me this fucking note. Hopped right down a branch and set it in my damn hand. Got something smart to say about that?"
"I got no fucking clue what to say to that, Faust. Are we in immediate danger from your squirrel messenger? Have you gotten any other cryptic messages?"
"No. I do keep finding bits of paper, though."
"I thought that was mice?"
Faust shrugged. "I don't know, okay? It might be nothing; it might be the end of the goddamned world—again." I knew what he meant—our world had been the only one that ended the first time.
I still didn't like our options and would've killed for some middle ground. "Right now, let's assume it is nothing. When it becomes something, then we'll tackle it."
He followed me in, saying something about needing to wash his hands and check on Dog. I wasn't fooled. He just wanted at those cinnamon rolls.
He took the stairs to his room while I took the left toward the kitchen. The back of my neck itched, the feeling strengthening the longer I remained separated from Jazz.