"Hello, may I speak with the manager," I asked the girl behind the desk.
"I can help you," the girl said stiffly. I needed information and she was having delusions of grandeur.
"I want to see the manager," Bill hauled out his ID. Well, that was effective. The girl ran into the office behind the desk. The manager was out in no time, the girl right behind him, looking frightened. The manager had a slight paunch, thinning hair and washed out blue eyes behind expensive glasses.
"What can I do for you?" He asked Bill. Yeah, the woman was the least important member of this party.
"My agent here has a question for you," Bill nodded in my direction. Now I had everybody's attention.
"Have you had any problems lately with rodents of any kind?" I asked. "Has anybody reported seeing a squirrel, maybe, or a rat?"
"Now, how the hell would a squirrel get in here?" The manager snapped.
"Answer the question." Compulsion dropped into my voice.
"We've had three reports of guests sighting a squirrel but we can find no evidence of this," the manager was forced to answer and he sure didn't want to. He kept a clean hotel, thank you very much.
"Where has the squirrel been sighted?" I asked.
"Two of the sightings on the second floor," the manager replied. "The third time was in a guest's bathroom."
"Thanks for your help," I said and took off. Bill nodded at the manager and followed close behind me. Winkler just followed Bill—he didn't give the manager the time of day. "When is sunset?" I asked as we rode up the elevator to the second floor.
"Seven-thirty," Winkler said, checking his cell. Yeah, that's not handy or anything.
"Bill, do you or your agents have anything that might pass for a squirrel cage?" I asked, and wondered how strong it needed to be. Did the squirrel have vampire strength when it was a squirrel? That was a scary thought. How could you fight a squirrel? The thought made me snicker.
"What?" Winkler asked.
"Ever fought with a squirrel, Winkler? I snickered again, imagining a werewolf chasing a squirrel—straight to the nearest tree. Bill was on his cell, asking somebody to bring a pet carrier or cage of some kind. If we found the squirrel, we didn't need to be chasing the damn thing all over the hotel after sunset, and looking like a bunch of idiots while we did it.
I turned us to mist in the hallway, sending Bill a mental note to grab the security recordings if there were any, just so we wouldn't be seen disappearing on YouTube. We went through the second floor rooms, searching everywhere until I caught the scent inside a bathroom.
He was cute as a squirrel; I'll give him that, with his fluffy squirrel tail curled around him as he slept. Tucked away behind a stack of towels on the lower shelf of the vanity, he slept the sleep of the vampire shapeshifter dead. Snatching him up, I turned all of us to mist again and flew toward our floor.
Bill's agents were there already, waiting for us. I dropped Winkler and Bill on the floor outside the bank of elevators and then turned back myself, still holding onto my little squirrel buddy. We ran for Bill's room, Winkler grabbed the carrier from an agent and I stuffed the squirrel inside it just as the sun went down.
Chapter 8
I'd never seen a rabid squirrel before, but this one came close. He was frantically scratching, clawing and biting at the door to his cage as soon as he woke. Bill and Winkler followed me to my room, and I opened the door to find an angry Gavin waiting on me. He couldn't say anything right then; there were too many others around. And the fact that I had a cage with a squirrel in it didn't help his temper any, I could tell. The squirrel was still banging around inside the carrier, chewing on the wire door of his cage, but so far, he hadn't broken through it. Thank goodness.
It's a vampire shapeshifter, I sent to Gavin, Tony and René. Tony and René had come through the connecting door the moment they'd heard our door open—I don't think they wanted to be anywhere near Gavin's temper, either. Poor Roff was cringing in a corner.
Bill sent his agents off—the speech/fundraiser was supposed to start at eight and we still needed to get down there in case there was anything else going on. René volunteered to stay in the room and watch the squirrel while the rest of us went toward the first floor. Gavin growled when I said I still wanted to go to the hole in the ductwork, just to see whether anyone else showed up. Tony was dressed for the do already, and Bill and Winkler jumped into suits really quick. I hadn't had a bath or a change of clothes and I didn't have time to do anything about it now. Tony and Winkler went with Bill; I turned Gavin to mist and we were away.
We listened to half of a boring speech, hovering as mist inside the duct before somebody showed up, and that somebody was female and human. Her black hair was pulled back tightly in a knot; she wore little makeup and was dressed in leather pants and a tight-fitting tank top. She was all business, no doubt about that, and I figured she'd done this many times before. A small black case was settled at her feet and when she knelt down to open it, I saw it held a gun that had been taken apart. She was prepared to reassemble the thing when Gavin and I materialized next to her.
Gavin had her throat in his hand so fast she didn't have time to squeak and her eyes were huge as she stared at his face. He was pissed, all right—his eyes were red and his fangs were out. "What are you doing here?" Gavin growled. "Answer me!" Compulsion was thick and mind-bending in his voice.
"Kill th-the m-mayor and the v-vice president," she stuttered. Yeah, I'd have been terrified, too, if I were in her place. Actually, I had been on the receiving end of Gavin's compulsion. I knew exactly what that felt like.
"Who sent you? Who do you work for?" Gavin demanded.
"Richter," the girl whispered. Gavin was squeezing her neck. He let up a little. "H-he was supposed to b-be here," the girl went on. I was calling her a girl, but she was in her thirties. That's what her scent told me, anyway.
"Bjorn Richter?" Gavin pulled the girl's face closer to his. She closed her eyes as he snarled in her face.
"Y-yeah," she could barely speak; Gavin's hand had squeezed again.
"Anyone else coming?" Gavin's voice was a dangerous purr, now. I was seeing the Gavin that went out and killed. He was in Assassin mode, no doubt about that.
"No," she struggled to shake her head.
"Good. Lissa, get us back to the room quickly," Gavin ordered. I got the three of us back to our hotel room as fast as I could haul mist in that direction.