He shot her a sharp look. “Charming. First, you will not beat me in a fight. Not ever. And second, I promise you there’s no need for me to force myself on unenthusiastic women when there are many willing participants to choose from.”

“Is that so?” It was the only retort she could come up with.

“Do I need to remind you again that I’m your mentor?” That cold, commanding tone had entered his voice again. Gone was the whole soothing charade he’d plied her with earlier in the dining room. Obviously, persuasion was part of his hellhound skill set.

She loosed a sigh. “You don’t need to remind me.” As she climbed up the stairs after him, she ran her fingers over the brass railing. “This is all part of the hotel?”

“The upper floors of the Plaza are all private residences. A former hellhound purchased this apartment in the twenties for a pittance. The Plaza tried to reacquire it in the thirties but… well, let’s say we have our ways of getting what we want.”

They reached the landing at the top of the stairs, and a hallway stretched out in either direction. Kester crossed to a door, pushing it open and flicking on a light. “Bedroom one. The greenery room.”

Ursula peered inside. This bedroom appeared to double as a botanical conservatory. A wrought-iron scaffold supported glass panes, enclosing half the room. A small day bed stood in one corner. It was pretty in a way, but rotting orchids and cacti lined shelves, and a smell of decay filled the air.

She stepped out. “Interesting. Maybe I’ll get into gardening.”

“I’ll have the cleaning staff come through in the morning,” said Kester, closing the door.

He continued down the hall, gesturing through a doorway. She stuck her head into a grey-tiled bathroom. An enormous claw-foot bathtub stood in the center, with a shower in the corner. Beautiful. She’d never had a proper shower before, just grimy tubs with handheld sprayers that emitted a sad trickle of water. “I’m really going to enjoy that shower.”

“I thought you’d like it. Come. There’s more.” Kester led her to another room. When he entered, he muttered in that strange language, and candles blazed all over the room. Shadows danced over high, arched ceilings and stained glass windows. In the center stood a four-poster bed with a black canopy. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of potions and animal skulls. “The master bedroom.”

Stunning—but creepy. Not unlike my new mentor. “Great. Maybe I’ll sleep here.”

There was no way she was sleeping with the skulls. She’d sleep in the living room.

“There’s one more.” He walked to the end of the hall.