James didn't want to do this. He had hoped that, in time, Zoe would forget her fruitless hunt for her friend and accept that she was long gone. Maybe in her grief she would think it best to flee the hotel once and for all. But Zoe Benson was more stubborn than he had anticipated—something that, unfortunately for him, made her even more endearing.

He'd hinted at her departure several times, but she merely reiterated her intent to drag him along with her. He never put up an argument, only offering a distressed grimace and a sharp exhale. The truth, surely, would change her mind — yet James, weak as he was, still found himself unable to actually tell her.

She was, however, becoming distressed, that much was clear, and James found himself getting annoyed (no, not concerned) with her new pessimistically gloomy demeanor. So, after struggling to convince her to leave the hotel long enough to contact another one of her friends back home, he reluctantly decided to pay a visit to Liz, who had suspiciously made herself scarce since their last encounter.

She looked no less disinterested with his queries than usual as she dried off a glass. "The girl's dead, James," she stated matter-of-factly. "You know it, I know it — and if you don't want your precious Zoe to end up the same way, I suggest you get her out of this hell-hole before she ends up dead too. Then again, that's probably what you're waiting for." She set a calculating gaze on him, as though daring him to deny it.

James shifted his weight. He would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought about it. If Zoe was so set on the two of them being together, it would make sense for him to simply grant her wish, wouldn't it? As foolish as it was. A quick stab in the night would leave her a permanent resident and, though it was far from ideal, there wouldn't be anymore talk of their separation. Then again, when he thought about it realistically, he hadn't managed to kill her yet—he didn't see how that was going to suddenly change. There were others in the hotel who would certainly love to take a life without need of persuasion, but he'd be damned if anyone else laid a hand on her. Oh, the complications of it all.

That being said, he ignored the statement entirely.

"Be that as it may, you are the only one who is tolerated by nearly everyone in this hotel, Miss Taylor. You must know something," he pressed. "She refuses to believe that her friend is dead without viable proof, so unless you know the location of a body or which bloodthirsty mongrel killed the wretch—"

"I'm sure you know who killed her, it isn't rocket science." Liz rolled her eyes, setting down the glass and leaning toward him, palm against the counter. "I know you aren't fond of the Countess, but you aren't the only one. You don't want to face her now that you've got a new girlfriend. I get it."

James grit his teeth together. He was certainly cursed, dealing with all these stubborn broads. "Nobody," he finally forced between them, "wants to face my wife."

"Hear hear," Liz chuckled, though her smile faded quickly. "Though if you aren't going to do it, I'm afraid I can't help you. I'm not one to get between The Countess and her meals and I doubt you want to send Zoe."

James' lips formed a thin line. No, that was out of the question. If he had anything to do with it, Zoe would never encounter Elizabeth. "Well then, what do you suggest I tell—?"

His inquiry was rudely interrupted by Iris practically running into the bar. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes looking even wider beneath her disproportionate spectacles. She appeared to be a frantic wreck, barely acknowledging James as she huffed and puffed her way to Liz.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she wheezed, smacking her hand down on the counter.

Liz, who finally showed a hint of discomfort, put a hand on her hip and pursed her lips. "Calm down before you give yourself a heart attack. I'm sure that's the last thing you want."

Iris made a face, but didn't show any intention of calming herself. "I know we aren't friends, and I'm not saying you have to tell me everything. But considering I told you about the first one, you should have at least mentioned we have another witch in this damn hotel."

There was a period of uncomfortable silence. James' jaw clenched and he cast a look in Liz's direction, though the woman neatly avoided his gaze. "A witch," he echoed, tearing his gaze away from he bartender to look at the receptionist warily. "You wouldn't mean a colored girl by the name of Queenie, would you?" Judging from Liz's exasperated sigh, he already had his answer.

Iris nodded, seemingly unaware of Liz's warning stare. "The Countess has her babysitting, if you can believe it. But that's not the problem. The problem is her friend." Her attention finally went back to Liz, betrayed frustration etched upon her features. "You could have at least told me her witchy pals were coming to look for her. It was only a matter of time before The Countess found out and with that girl runnin' her mouth sayin' her coven is gonna 'take her down', she's a little too pleased with the news."

Liz made a barely audible sound in the pits of her throat. She looked to James, half expecting him to fall into a frenzy. Instead, he looked disturbingly calm as he processed this bit of information.

"A witch," he echoed, near dumbfounded. He met Liz's gaze, comically at a loss for words.

There was so much at stake with Iris' news, yet Liz couldn't help but crack a dry smile at the man's reaction—his bewilderment reminding her of the often forgotten fact that James March, regardless of his current state, still had an ounce of humanity in him. Iris looked between them as Liz chuckled, equally confused if not more irate. "What an interesting couple the two of you make. Every teenage girl's paranormal dream."

Normally, James would have delivered an equally snark-filled retort, but for now he could only stare, jaw clenching as he pieced the situation together. A dream—oh yes, surely. Yet at the present time, he felt as though their current predicament was no more than a nightmare.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." Zoe truly thought it was remarkable how Cordelia Foxx could manage to leave a good 20 voicemails begging Zoe to call her, but when Zoe did attempt contact—which was a hassle in itself—she didn't pick up the damn phone.

"Hello, you've reached Cordelia Foxx of Miss Robich—"

"Damn it!" Zoe hung up, running a hand through her hair. She was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Time had not been kind to them. It was the 29th already and she was no closer to finding Queenie than she had been upon first arriving to the Cortez.

She had hoped that with James assisting her, it would have been easier. As Liz had mentioned, he knew the hotel better than anyone else. Yet even he seemed to hit a barrier with the darkness that possessed the place. Zoe's divination abilities were still unable to get further than down the hall and she was truly, genuinely beginning to believe that finding Queenie was proving to be a pointless affair.

Calling Cordelia was something that she almost wanted to avoid. As much as the Supreme had expressed her desire for Zoe to come home regardless of whether or not she was accompanied by their lost sister, Zoe couldn't help but feel guilty. She was letting someone else down. First Kyle, now Queenie and Cordelia.

That was why she wouldn't dare leave James behind as well.

Not only was she going to confide in Cordelia about the fruitless attempt at finding Queenie, but she needed to know what kind of spell would keep someone for years trapped in one location. Cordelia would know what kind of barriers had been put up and, more importantly, what it would take to bring them down.

She knew Cordelia would be suspicious, considering the short period of time she'd been there. She'd think James was taking advantage, or something similar—it was her maternal-like instinct. And Zoe would struggle to explain it, to explain why she felt so strongly about him. She'd have to admit his similarities to Kyle, but her feelings had grown aside from that. James' understanding, the connection the two of them had though neither could really explain it. There was much she wanted to learn about him, but there would be time for that when she brought him back to the house, when she helped him escape.

The thought along prompted her to pick up her phone again, tapping the familiar name and taking a deep breath as the line began to ring. "Pick up, pick up, pick—"

"Zoe?"

Zoe actually let out a noise that resembled both a relieved sigh and a surprised laugh at the sound. "Cordelia," she sighed. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, relief sparking a warmth in her chest that had her heart racing. "Shit, you answered."

"Oh, God, Zoe, you're alright." Cordelia seemed just as emotional, voice shaking through the speaker. "You are alright, aren't you? What's happened? Have you found Queenie? Are you able to come back?"

Zoe gnawed at her lower lip. She'd thought about what to say, how to handle the questions, but it wasn't the same now that she was being asked. The relief heightened to anxiety and the warmth became a steady, uncomfortable burn.

"Zoe? Are you still there? Zoe, speak to me. What's going on?"

"I'm here," Zoe forced out after a moment, if only to prove that she hadn't ended the call (though part of her desperately wanted to.) "You were right about the hotel, Delia. There's… Something's really wrong here. I don't even know where to begin. I think… I think it may be haunted. And it's not just Queenie… The hotel has… victims. God, I don't even know how to describe it. It takes its victims and it doesn't let them leave. They're trapped here. Some, I don't even know for how long."

"Calm down, Zoe," Cordelia said, though there wasn't any doubt in her voice, merely concern. "What do you mean, trapped?"

Taking a shaky breath, Zoe continued, "There are residents here… I don't think they can leave the hotel. Some of them… can. I think. I don't know how it works. But some of them are trapped."

Cordelia was quiet for a moment before speaking, very slowly. "Do you think Queenie is trapped?" A pause. "Are you?"

"I'm outside now. It hasn't gotten to me. Queenie… I don't know if she is or not. I haven't—I haven't found her. I don't—I don't know." She could hear Cordelia sigh, but the Supreme didn't say more. "But… There is someone. I've met... Cordelia, I've found someone who's trapped. And… I think he's been here for a really long time, and I… Well, for both he and Queenie's sake… and any other victims… I was just—"

"You want to know how to weaken the barriers." There was something apprehensive about the way she said it. Zoe could practically see her slowly sitting at her desk, shoulders sagging slightly in her worry. "Of course, for Queenie… But, Zoe… This... This he you've mentioned. Barriers such as this aren't put up for no reason. Those who are trapped may be experiencing some kind of punishment. To release them… Well, you don't know how they would respond to being free. If they were a criminal, a demon, even—"

"Neither," Zoe said immediately. "He's—He's not. I know he's not, Cordelia. He's… He saved me. He's just trapped here out of bad luck. The wrong place at the wrong time, or something like that. I need to know how to get him out. I've promised him that when I find Queenie I'll make sure that I free him too."

Now Cordelia sighed and Zoe envisioned her bringing a hand to massage her temples. "Zoe, the last time you promised someone freedom, you released The Axeman. And, as I recall, he continued his murdering spree as soon as he got out."

"He was also dating your mom," Zoe protested. "James—He's—He's not like that. He's not the Axeman. Cordelia, he saved my life. A criminal wouldn't do that. He's helping me look for Queenie, he's… We have a… We have a connection and I can't explain it even though I know you want me to and—" her rambling cut off and she realized that she had worked herself up to the point of tears. Rubbing furiously at her eyes, she inhaled slowly. "I just need to know how to get him out. How to get all of us out and back home."

"Zoe…" Cordelia murmured, though her tone was exasperated. She knew she'd lost this battle and she had no intentions of arguing further—not if it would risk Zoe's return. "Barriers are very complicated," she admitted and Zoe could hear her as she stood. She could hear Cordelia rummaging around, no doubt flipping through the worn pages of books in search of some kind of solution. "I'd have to know why the barrier was placed. I'd have to look into the very history of the hotel before I could even begin searching as to—Shit." Her curse was accompanied by the sound of things falling.

"Cordelia?" Zoe's brows drew together. "You okay?"

"Hold on, Zoe," Cordelia mumbled. Zoe heard her muttering under her breath as she gathered her belongings until suddenly—silence.

Zoe stood up, a chill running down her spine. "Cordelia?" She pulled her phone away from her ear. The call was still in session, but Cordelia had gone quiet for reasons unbeknownst to her. She brought the device to her ear again and she could faintly hear the woman breathing. It was muffled, as though she had something to her mouth. "Cordelia? Are you okay? What's wrong? Did you find something?"

It was another agonizingly long moment before Cordelia spoke again, but her voice was quiet and shaky. "Zoe… This man that you say you've met. That you want to free from the hotel. What did you say his name was?"

Relieved, albeit a bit confused, Zoe shook her head. "Uh, James. His name is James. Why? What does that have to do with—"

"Do you know his full name, Zoe?" There was a sense of alarming urgency in Cordelia's voice as it raised in volume. "What is his full name? James what?"

Zoe didn't like where this was going. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and the blazing sun above made her skin feel as though it were nearly on fire. "I—"

"Damn it, Zoe! What's his name?"

"March!" Zoe practically yelled, nerves finally having reached their peak. "His name is James March! Why does it matter?!"

Cordelia made a sound not akin to a strangled sob. "Zoe, I need you to listen to me," she said, voice suddenly low and desperate as though she expected someone to be listening in. "I need you to leave right now."

Zoe was sure she was bound to pass out and she stumbled in her dizzy. "What? But-But Queenie—James—"

"I don't know who you think James is, or what he's told you, but he's lying. If you're out of the hotel, I need you to find the nearest station, airport, anything. Do you have your wallet? If you don't, go somewhere else. I'll come out there and find you. But whatever you do, do not go back there, do you understand me?"

"Why?" Zoe croaked, vision blurring. "Why did you need his name? What—Who—? I can't just—I promised I would—"

"Zoe," Cordelia nearly wailed. "Don't you understand? You've seen these barriers before. The Axeman, Spalding. They were confined to the parts of the house in which they died due to the crimes they'd committed. James is not a victim. He's trapped because of his punishment. Zoe, he's dead."

Zoe felt as though her heart had plummeted to the pits of her stomach. It wasn't as though the concept hadn't crossed her mind, but she had purged it from her thoughts. James couldn't be dead, no. She wouldn't…. She couldn't handle if someone she-No. No, he wasn't dead. Yet it made so much sense. Too much sense. His attire, his manners, his accent. The fact that he'd never been to places like Disneyland and he became so upset when she mentioned him leaving. A spirit. Trapped.

"I can—I can release him," Zoe whispered. "I can release him like I did the Axeman. The spell… I think I remember it. I think I can save—"

"James March is not deserving of freedom, Zoe. Of salvation. Zoe, please. Promise me that you won't go back to that hotel. That you won't see him again. He's dangerous. Do not set him free. You'll repeat history all over again. Whether the Axeman was with my mother or not, he was still a killer. A killer in life and a killer in death. These people do not change. You absolutely cannot—"

"What?" Time, funny as it was, finally decided to stop at that moment.

"Zoe, listen to me—"

"I—I am listening," Zoe whispered. "But what… What did you say? What do you mean, 'these people don't change'?" The conversation drifted into silence again and Zoe felt an uncomfortable lump form in her throat. "Cordelia, don't—What did you mean?"

"Oh, Zoe," Cordelia sighed softly. "You don't even know who he is."

Tears spilled over Zoe's cheeks and she swallowed past the lump. "Who he is…" Suddenly intrusive memories plagued her mind. The answers had been right in front of her, had been screamed at her, and yet she had been too preoccupied in what she thought to be love.

The way James had come to her rescue, brutally killing the men who attacked her without so much as blinking. The way he spoke of it so casually the following day. His anger toward Will Drake. Then Liz telling her the story of the hotel, of the psychotic serial killer that had built and owned it until the day he died. Suicide, she had said. The rumors of the hotel's haunting. The way Liz desperately tried to get Zoe to forget James. Then the picture Zoe had seen before leaving New Orleans. A photo of the hotel in its prime, featuring the handsome man in the window.

Cordelia desperately fought to regain her attention through the speaker, but Zoe had long since stopped listening. She was already walking back. Back to the hotel where she knew she had to be. She had come for a reason, and she would be damned if she would leave before fulfilling her mission. Even if it meant seeing him again. Even if she would have to confront him. Even if the caption on the photograph she had seen before all this started was now prominent in her mind.

The Hotel Cortez, 1924, owner J.P.M.

James P. March.

The man she thought was her second chance.

A killer.

yes, hello, i'm alive! with all the hype coming from season 6 approaching, i thought i might as well come back and update this should anyone still be interested! i apologize for the ridiculously long wait, and i hope you aren't too disappointed with this chapter. it think i'll be watching coven and hotel over the weekend just to make sure i'm still up to date with everything, but i'd love to finish this as i planned to in the beginning. anywho! hope you can look past the inevitable typos as it's late and i wrote this fairly quickly - enjoy!