The only reason the Hotel was in Ireland right now was because, at some point last night, Dexter had rang Anton and very drunkenly told him he was back in the country. It had been a long time since Anton had seen Dexter. It was worth a visit, even to a country to which Anton was feeling ambivalent right now.

His wards registered the car. He just didn't know who was driving it until they walked in the door. Anton tilted his head at them, the nearest thing to surprise he'd register. A good chunk of that was at Wreath, being there. Even more, leaning on Dexter like he needed the guidance.

"Erskine," he said, eyes on the man, examining him. Taking in the tight lines on his face. "Heard about your promotion. Congratulations. Things falling a little flat, are they?"