The Mystery Megapack

which left me and Elliot as the only ones active. Elliot had volunteered to stay on call for the night, and I figured I’d be on call until the last fan dragged himself out of the hotel Sunday evening. Pinky, of course, said he’d keep his walkie-talkie on, too, even though he was doing his overnight on Saturday.
    After that, I was almost done for the day. I still had to stop by Bane’s room to make sure he had everything he needed. This was annoying for two reasons. First, to ensure Bane’s security, he’d been given a suite that was only accessible by going outside and up a steep flight of stairs, so it was completely out of the way. And second, it was waste of time anyway because Bane wasn’t alone. He and a happy crowd were noisily partying. As I’m sure Pinky would have told me, the location of Bane’s room should have been kept a secret, but I suspected Ted the con-chair, who was in the thick of it, had been less than discreet. I noted resentfully that he didn’t even have his walkie-talkie with him.
    Shannon was at the party, too, sitting as close as possible to Bane, and laughing too hard at everything the actor said. Not that she was the only one. Bane was known for being the kind of wolf that didn’t need a full moon to bring out his animal side, and there were several other women there hoping to be chosen as his overnight guest. Bane waved me over when I saw him, but I just smiled and shook my head. I’d spoken to the man earlier, and tripped over my tongue so badly that I wasn’t inclined to repeat the experience. Drinking an extra-large Australian beer wasn’t likely to help.
    On the way to my much less plush room, I walked down the corridor designated for room parties, and made sure the hosts knew to keep noise down, avoid serving beer to minors, and refrain from recreating famous chase scenes from Werewolf Hunter in the hallways. Lastly, I checked in with the hotel’s night security man to let him know things seemed under control.
    Then I went to bed.
    The first thing I did the next day was meet with my team over donuts and coffee in the control room, the function room reserved for convention business. We were all wearing our uniforms—jeans and blood red shirts with white bulls eyes on the front and the word “SECURITY” on the back. The shirts were easy to spot, and I’d been told it was a good color to set off my dark hair and eyes. I wondered if Elliot agreed.
    We reviewed the day’s schedule, which included morning panel discussions with writers and artists connected with Werewolf Hunter , autograph sessions for those writers and artists, an afternoon talk by Bane that we expected the whole convention to attend, more panels, and a werewolf-themed costume contest that was likely to be our biggest headache. Ongoing were the art show, video room, dealers’ room, and hospitality suite where Bane would meet with the rest of the people who’d bought private tickets.
    I was dreading the next part, so I kept my eyes on my clipboard as I said, “I’ve got some assignment changes. Shannon, I’m switching you to morning panels and autographs. Float between the panel rooms, and keep the lines moving in autographs. Pinky, you’ll be with Bane.”
    I paused, waiting for an outburst, then looked at Shannon. She was nodding, maybe a bit annoyed, but there wasn’t a tantrum in sight. Pinky just looked smug. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, people, get out there and keep things secure.” They headed for their first assignments, leaving only me and Elliot, who had the morning off in return for his being on call overnight.
    “Good call,” he said.
    “I’m surprised Shannon didn’t make a fuss.”
    “Didn’t you hear what happened last night?”
    “What now?” I asked, sure that I’d let something slip.
    “You know there was a party in Bane’s room, right? Well, Shannon practically threw herself at the guy, but when the party ended, Bane invited a different girl to spend the night with him.”
    “Ouch. So that’s why she was willing to switch. At least we won’t have that problem with Pinky. Unless … Elliot, Pinky’s not gay, is he?”
    “Who can tell? The only one who shares his bed is his walkie-talkie. I hear he even puts it into a plastic bag so he can take it into the shower with him.”
    Though the morning had started out well, the lull didn’t last long. A wannabe writer showed up at the first autograph session with a stack of copies of her manuscript,