Guest Room Hallway, Third Floor
There was no question that Dominic would go to the hotel when the message appeared on his journal. Why wouldn't he? He'd been working on a column for hours, and he was stalled on a letter that was going to get him crucified by one set of readers or another no matter how he answered it. That wasn't all, though. He knew well enough that the presence inside him, quiet as he was, was restless. Maybe it would do them both some good to get out for a while and see what all the fuss was about.
He took his time getting to the hotel, taking the car smoothly around back streets and side streets that he could picture in his mind as clear as a map but still hadn't learned the names of. He'd spent most of his nights since arriving in Vegas driving and getting to know the city. He'd bought a road map, and found himself poring over it at odd times. He didn't fight that, because he knew that would keep things quiet and it was good to pick his battles. The Driver wasn't going to be totally comfortable or at ease until he knew the city like the back of his hand. In L.A. it wouldn't have been necessary, but he wasn't as familiar with Las Vegas, so studying was in order. As long as Dominic didn't fall behind on his columns, he didn't mind. And it had its advantages, too. Where he normally would have eschewed a car for a bike simply because learning a new city was such a chore, he knew almost half the streets already, and though he was still driving the old used thing his parents had given him, a few tweaks had left it running smoother than it had in years.
He parked the car a block from the hotel and walked around the front. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the place fit the bill pretty well, spooky and abandoned from somewhere around the middle of the past century. The drive over had left him with a feeling that was growing more and more familiar, somewhere below even keel. It was a submerged sensation, and it made everything seem a little distant. The prospect of going inside seemed less daunting than it might have otherwise, and he climbed the front steps without hesitation.
There were a few people already in the lobby, which was a comfort. The journals had told him that he wasn't alone, but it was different to actually see people, to know they were all there for the same reason. The Driver wasn't in the mood for idle chat, however (not that he ever was), and just wanted to get a look at the door. Dominic was curious as well, so he followed the tugging upstairs, slipping his fingers into his pocket, fingering the worn key where it hung on his key ring.
He paused on the stairs when he reached the third floor. Something about the hall struck a chord, and he walked down the hall, looking from door to door. He was waiting for a sign, or a sense of recognition, and he tried to ignore the steadily growing nervous pounding of his heart.