Gil scoffed.
“What? I’d rather partake from someone I’m not repulsed by. Sue me.” I chucked him in the shoulder. “And I mean, if it comes to dire straits, I could always get a tasty donation from my good old friend Gilberto Ramirez.”
He sighed and shook his head. “You’re a piece of shit, Sterling.”
But you know what? Gil was that good of a friend. I probably wouldn’t ask unless I had zero choices left, but if I truly was starving, I had no doubt that Gil would let me have a taste of his hairy ham hocks.
Call me a connoisseur, but to vampires, the world was a buffet, or more appropriately, a delectable wine flight. Humans were nice, and shapeshifters were an exotic treat. But you know what were really delicious? Magic users. Well, magic users, and gods, but that’s a whole different story entirely.
Gil’s chuckle was low and rumbly as we headed back to our car. “Maybe Asher will be happier to donate to the Bank of Sterling.”
I lit up. “I have no objections whatsoever.”
“I have objections. Several.”
Asher Mayhew, the potential donor in question, was leaning against our car, hands tucked into his hoodie, a grimace on his face. He was the lankiest of the bunch, but the kid’s leaner frame was a deceptive front for his deep wells of terrifying magic: necromancy, one of the rarest talents of all. One that was quite valuable in our line of work, too, for obvious reasons.
“Asher,” I said, rushing at him, ruffling his hair. “My best, most generous, and sweetest friend. Emphasis on sweet.”
He shoved me off, frowning even harder. “No. No way in hell. We had to pry you off my arm with a crowbar that one time I offered. Never again.”
“My friends, I call you people,” I said. “Some friends you are. I may as well duck into the woods and hunt for rats.”
“You may as well,” Gil said. “And Asher, didn’t we tell you to stay in the car?”
He stamped his foot, making a little whine. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Very convincing argument,” I said.
“Kid or no,” Gil said, “there was no way we were taking you in there with us. Sterling’s already made a couple of friends.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “I guess that means I have to set up some wards, then.”
I winked at him. “You’re the best. Didn’t I tell you?”
We piled into the car, and I sank into the heated seats with a pleasurable sigh. Seriously, being frozen alive was not a fun experience. Gil planted his chin in his hand, gazing out of the passenger window as I threw the car into first gear.
Asher slipped into the nook between our seats. “So did you find out at least? I tried checking again, it’s ridiculous. The place is impossible to find.”
“One of the guys in the bar called it a pile of twigs,” I said. “But yeah, we got directions. At least we got our warning that the place is going to be a certified shit hole.”
“As long as we get wi-fi,” Asher said sullenly.
I chuckled. “That’s why you download your porn. You kids today with your fancy streaming. What if a site goes down or something gets deleted?”
I could feel the heat blistering from Asher’s body as he blushed. “It’s not that, stupid. We’ll need it for research. It’s not enough to commune with the dead, which I already know I’m going to do a lot of.”
We drove on in silence a little longer, until I finally caught the broken-down signpost the bartender had mentioned and taken his suggested left. My headlights shone across what was supposed to be the Everett House. My mood darkened even further.
“Asher,” I said. “Could you maybe raise up some zombies, get them to do some renovation work? Not tonight, though.”
He rubbed at his eyes, leaning closer to the windshield. “That’s so disrespectful to the dead, bro. And what the hell are you talking about, anyway?”
Gil clutched at his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Oh. This is definitely not how it looked in the pictures they sent us.”
I felt at my breast pocket for my cigarettes, already stressed out by the sight of our home away from home. I slipped one into my mouth, letting it dangle there for a moment.
“Well, this looks like a great place to get murdered.”