Finally, the driver turned down alongside a long, skinny square with an imposing statue of a guy on a horse. The plaza gently sloped down, flanked on both sides by more incredible buildings with stores at ground level. "Wenceslas Square," the cabbie said.
"You mean the guy they sing Christmas carols about?" I asked.
"Just so." He stopped at the bottom. Brand name shops lined the bisecting street in either direction, while a pedestrian-only square stood beyond that. The driver pointed along the pedestrian area to the right. "Faster if you walk. About 300 meters."
I took in the architecture that looked pretty much like the rest of the architecture in the city. "Isn't the hotel in the New Town?" Where were the glass and steel skyscrapers?
The driver laughed. "Old Town dates back to 1100 AD. New Town 1300s."
"Upstart neighborhood."
Drio rolled his eyes at me, but to his credit, he gave the driver a healthy tip. We lugged our suitcases over the checkered pavement toward the hotel. I noted a lot of great stores that I'd be hitting up once our mission was completed.
Even my suitcase wheels spun with a cheerful clattering sound.
Drio turned off the pedestrian area and there it was, Praha WS Hotel. A five-story boutique hotel painted vibrant yellow with arched windows, it featured intricate plaster details, and black and cream trim.
"Is Samson staying here?" I asked Drio.
Since it was work related, he didn't grumble at the question. "No. He's at the Four Seasons. Rohan wanted to stay someplace away from our target."
We swerved to avoid a family of weary-looking tourists with broad Aussie accents, bogged down with shopping bags. "Where's King's posse staying?"
"The Four Seasons. As am I. I want to be able to party with the boys. "
"Why are you here then?"
He gave me a tight smile. "I'm delivering Rohan's property."
I looked in confusion at his suitcase until the penny dropped. "Thanks, but I'm good. You can go."
"You have the credit card the reservation was booked under?"
I held out my hand for it. Drio kept walking, pulling the silver handle of the hotel's glass front door open and heading inside.
Since Rohan wasn't due to be here with Samson for a while, I'd been allowed to travel in normal person clothes instead of the easy access zipper-fest the guys were expecting. I kept my coat on and my head down for most of the check-in though, letting Drio handle it.
As baroque as the outside was, the inside was contemporary clean-lines. The black floors gleamed with a high-sheen polish, and the reception desk was a floating slab of the same black. Two long panels backlit in a burnt gold took up most of the wall behind the desk. An elevator bank was situated on the left, while a couple of steps at the back led to white linen tables in a small restaurant.
Drio handed me the keycard along with my room number. "2PM," he reminded me. He checked his phone. "That gives you a couple of hours to eat, unpack, and get ready. Ro is with Samson and his crew right now at the Four Seasons but he's bringing King over here under pretext of giving him some sample tracks for the song."
"He's inviting Samson to sing on it?"
Drio nodded. "Since wherever Samson goes, his two closest buddies follow, I'll hook up with them and make sure I'm here for the meet. In case you need me."
That surprised me and I guess it must have shown because he gave me a crooked grin, only somewhat less psychotic than the one directed at demons. "They take you out, I don't get the pleasure when the Brotherhood gives the order."
It was as good a reassurance as I could have expected from him. "Later, gator," I said, and went to put on my war paint.
My third-floor room wasn't bad. A bit small but bright. The walls, furniture, and linens on the queen bed were gleaming white. Red accents in the curtains and top blanket punched some color into the place. No sexy shower or anything and not much of a view from my room either. I'd been warned that I'd be checked into a basic. Since I was here as Rohan's groupie, common sense dictated I'd be pleasuring the master in his own opulent suite. My place would be more of a dumping ground for my stuff since big time rock stars needed their space. If Samson managed to breach the doorway and visit me, the room wouldn't seem out of place.
I flipped my suitcase open, pulling out the clothing I'd packed on top as my first attack gear. Samson liked the blatant. Red, black, short, tight. I went for white. Pure as the driven snow, me.
I wriggled the black-and-white houndstooth mini skirt that hit mid-thigh up over my white lace bikini briefs. Even if no one else ever saw them, the lingerie was part of my method acting, my from-the-skin-out character build. I'd paired the briefs with a white lace demi bra that pushed my C cups up into lush globes. That bra was a total score. Getting that much support without any metal underwire was a feat but I'd found it. I'd learned the hard way that metal against my body when my electric powers were triggered led to burning and pain. I'd even stopped wearing jewelry other than my Rasha ring, which didn't cause me any problems.