Chapter 8

“Canwe swing by Runo real quick?” I asked, climbing into the back of Reynard’s luxury black sedan the next morning. Reynard was already seated inside, his long, lean body poured over the leather like a professional photoshoot for Business Man Monthly.

When I closed the door, the traffic noise vanished, as though I’d stepped into a vacuum-sealed room.

“Runo?” he asked.

“It won’t take long.” Zee still hadn’t returned. The last time I’d seen him, he hadn’t been all that upset, other than believing he’d enthralled me. But it had been too long now. We had a business to run. He couldn’t keep running off whenever we had any little setback.

“Take us to Runo,” Reynard ordered the driver.

“Alright, sir,” his driver acknowledged, peeling the car out into traffic.

Did Reynard know what Runo was infamous for? Perhaps it was best I didn’t mention it until we were there, since he didn’t get along with demons. It wasn’t as though he had to leave the car. Just a few minutes visit, that was all.. .

The car rumbled through early morning San Francisco, blacked-out windows hiding us from prying eyes. The thick silence suggested the car was warded, but against what, I couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was to hide the screams of Reynard’s victims? I discreetly kept an eye on him in the corner of my vision.

Outside the hotel, I was potentially vulnerable to Reynard’s vampiric abilities, although it was up for debate whether his charms would work on me—same as Zee’s allure hadn’t worked, despite what he believed. But Reynard had other abilities, and outside the reach of Madame Matase’s wards, he was free to wield them.

We drove by a roadsign for Runo. Someone had slapped red paint over it that read: Demontown.

“Imaginative,” Reynard remarked.

“Any particular location?” the driver asked.

“Uh, yes, Razorsedge?” I said. The driver glanced in the rear view mirror, eyes widening. “Do you know it?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t add anything more. Which said a lot.

“What is Razorsedge?” Reynard asked, picking up on the man’s strange tone. His curious gaze slid to me.

“A club where Zee worked. He uh... I haven’t seen him for a while and he might be there. It won’t take long.”

“Is his absence unusual?” Reynard asked, as the car pulled to a stop outside the club.

“No, he does this sometimes. Old habits...” I opened the door and stepped out. A light drizzle misted the street. The club’s name usually glowed in neon above the front doors, but as it was early morning, its lights were off. All of the building’s windows and walls had been painted black. White silhouette adorned the windows, outlining a winged demon in various suggestive poses. The angular wings and looping tail were unmistakably Zee’s.

If Reynard didn’t know what this place was, it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.

“Adam?”

I poked my head back inside the car. “Yeah?”

“Would you like my assistance?”

There weren’t many demons around. Just one homeless looking one sat on the sidewalk, stroking a nearby cat. A street-sweeper machine hummed and bumped against the curb, sucking up broken glass and used condoms from the wild night before. At least demons practiced safe sex, I guess. There was nothing to suggest I’d be in any danger. “No, I think I got it.”

“Very well.” He sat back, and I closed the door.

It was also probably for the best Reynard didn’t follow me into a demon sex club. Neither of us was ready for those kinds of conversation.

Pulling my coat tighter around me, I stepped up to the painted black door and knocked.

“We’re closed,” a deep male voice grumbled from inside.

“I’m looking for Zodiac.”

“You and everyone else.” A little slot in the door opened and a pair of green gargoyle eyes dazzled. “You demon bait?”

“Uh . . . No, I don’t think so.”

The green eyes flicked from me and settled on the black car behind me. “Those wheels yours?”

“Not mine, no. It belongs to—never mind, I’m looking for Zee, have you seen him?”

“He don’t work here no more.”

“He does not work here anymore,” Reynard purred, sidling up beside me. I hadn’t even heard him leave the car.

“What the fuck are you, the grammar police?”

“Language, and its correct usage, opens many doors,” Reynard said, adding an overly charming smile.

“Not this one.” The gargoyle’s eyes narrowed on me. “The suit with you?”

I winced. Apparently, the suit was. I faced Reynard, briefly caught off guard by how the tiny specs of diamond drizzle sparkled on his smooth, dark hair. “I’ve got this.”

“Unfortunately, I suspect you do not have this. He’s not going to let you in.”

“Because we’re closed. Come back after ten p.m.” The slot in the door slammed closed.

I blinked at the door barring my way. I really needed to speak with Zee before diving into the meeting with Gideon Cain, or we’d have another event like a few nights ago, and he’d get hurt again.

Reynard checked his watch. “There is a time for diplomacy, and a time for gentle persuasion. May I assist you now?”

“Sure, have at it.” What was he going to do, bamboozle the doorman with correct sentence structure?

He stepped up to the door and knocked. The slot opened. Green eyes dazzled again, widening, then narrowing.

“Open the door,” Reynard said, voice flat.

I almost laughed. Simply telling the doorman we were coming inside wasn’t going to work.

The bolt rattled and the door opened. Just like that.

Reynard turned his silvery gaze on me. The smile on his lips had turned predatory. “The simple-minded are easily overpowered.”

Oh-kaythen. I’d known those sharp eyes were lethal, and there they were, in action. Hopefully, my mind wasn’t simple. “Erm, thank you?”

The doorman—a big gargoyle, with crazy hacked-at hair that merged into his beard—stood back, letting us both enter, and clanged the door closed behind us, sealing us inside a narrow lobby.

“So, uh, I guess I need to see the owner?” I asked him.

“That’s Sebastien. He’ll be in the apartment upstairs?—”

“Summon him here,” Reynard said.

The doorman sauntered off without arguing, leaving Reynard and I standing alone by an unmanned reception desk. One cheap chair and a plastic plant was someone’s sorry attempt at brightening up the place. I lifted my shoe off the sticky floor—and thought no more about what might make the floor in a sex club try to glue me in place.

“You could have said please,” I mumbled.

“Why?”

“If you told him to jump off a cliff, would he?”

“That depends on how strong his will to live is.”

That was not a comfort. “Could you do that to me?”

His smile grew, showing a hint of fang. “I wouldn’t.”

Which meant he could, in theory. I shivered and looked away, careful not to hold his gaze for too long. “There was nothing about that level of manipulation skill under Vampires in the Wilson’s Guide.”

“The Wilson’s Guide is heavily edited. Besides, not all of my kind are capable of such things.”

He happened to be one of the special ones. Also not comforting, since I was standing alone in a dark club with him, and nobody knew we were here. But then, if he’d wanted to manipulate me, he could have, as soon as I’d climbed into his car. Why wait until now?

Would I know if he had?

By the stars, I needed Zee back.

A sign on the desk read: Check Weapons amp; Phone Here. A gallery of photos on the wall behind displayed the demon talent who could be bought by the hour, and at what rates. The images were naturally suggestive in content, but not too explicit, since people had to pay for that package. A faded outline showed where Zee’s photo had been, and since the photos went up in price from left to right, he’d been the most expensive. None of them were cheap. Sex sells, as Zee said. Often. The club’s profits must have taken a substantial hit after he’d left.

A demon burst through a side door, his black and white clothes thrown on, shirt undone, long white hair a mess. “What the fuck is this, who the fuck are you, and why the fuck is my doorman possessed?”

This must have been Sebastien, and he was quite stunning. I’d seen a music video once, by a famous singer—”Smooth Criminal” by Michael Jackson—some said he’d been fae, there had been tells. Sebastien looked like his act in that video, down to the lean white suit, polished black and white shoes, and dark blue shirt. A tie hung loose around his neck. Black horns spiraled from his waterfall of white hair. And he was tall—taller than Zee—with huge leathery wings trailing behind him. The only thing missing to complete the outrageous ensemble was a white Panama hat.

I blinked at the monochrome demon, lost for words.

“A fucking vampire?!” Sebastien spluttered, revealing sharp demon teeth behind a rapidly snaking smile. “That explains how you mind-fucked my man. Now, turn your Versace-clad ass around, and get the fuck out of my club. We don’t cater to suckers here.”

Reynard slow-blinked, but otherwise stood very, very still.

If these two clashed, there were no wards here to stop them. I glanced at Sebastien, leaning against the desk, then Reynard, the epitome of sophisticated grace. If it came down to a tooth-and-claw fight, I’d put my money on Reynard. Vampires were ambush hunters. Sebastien wouldn’t see the knockout blow coming.

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Sebastien, have you seen Zodiac at all? It’s just that?—”

“Zodiac? The cunt. If you see him, tell him to get his tight fucking ass back here. That bitch belongs to me, not some stupid little human who thinks he can steal what’s mine and play house as though we all live in some retarded fucking fairytale.”

Reynard side-eyed me. I tried to swallow the beginnings of a simmering rage. A lot more about Zee’s life had begun to make sense now I’d met his old boss. The scuff marks on his wrists, around his neck. His always returning here when things took a turn for the worse. “Then you haven’t seen him?” I asked, voice thin.

“Not since two nights ago, after he came crawling back to me, begging on his knees to get fucked.” He rippled his fingers. “Demon like that needs a good fucking to remember his place.” Sebastien examined his pale blue nails. “He’ll be back. He can’t stay away.” Sebastien smirked, and looked me over, head to toe. “Who even are you?”

“The stupid little human.”

His eyes widened, and a flash of ice-blue fire flared around swelling pupils. An invisible tug of something dangerous and powerful pulled at my chest, trying to get inside. I stared back, maintaining a blank expression.

“You think you know Zodiac?” he asked, his voice a growl. “You will never know him.”

I wanted to deny it, to claim I knew Zee as well as anyone, but it would have been a lie. “I know what matters.”

He barked a loud, ostentatious laugh. “Fuck me, aren’t you cute. What matters is that he gets back here and spreads his cheeks for the highest bidder.”

“If he wanted to be here, he would be?—”

“Who’s the suit, your vampire daddy?” Sebastien asked, talking over me and then visually devouring Reynard.

Reynard simmered too—his anger spritzing my skin and making the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck rise. Did Reynard have a limit? Would he snap? It had only taken Zee raising his voice in the hotel bar for Reynard to lose it before. And maybe I’d lose it too... But I couldn’t. Not here. I’d already made one too many mistakes in Demontown, and could not afford another so soon.

“You’re not a very nice person are you?” I said.

“Nice?” Sebastien snapped his sharp teeth together. “There’s no money in nice, sweet cheeks. You know what there is money in? Sex. Dirty, no-holds-barred, fuck-you-up sex. If you want that, I can make an exception, since you’re both so bottled up it won’t take much for you to blow your loads. But let me tell you, Adam Vex”—he laughed my name as though it were a joke—“nobody takes my property. Zodiac is mine.” He strode close and peered down, wings spread, horns gleaming, teeth exposed in a grin. “He was sold to me, he belongs to me, he’s mine as sure as those chains around his neck. Understand, fucknuts?”

I stared into his pale blue eyes, having to tilt my head back, since he was so much taller. One day, I was going to come back here and show Sebastien how nobody owned Zodiac. But not today. I turned on my heel. “I’ve seen enough.”

“That offer remains!” Sebastien called. “You two can fuck each other to death, since suckers like that sort of thing. I’ll watch.”

The door slammed behind us. We climbed into the car, and Reynard told the driver to hurry downtown for our meeting with Gideon Cain, when all I really wanted to do was race back to my room and shower the rage off.

“The more I am forced to interact with demons, the more I despise them,” Reynard said.

I couldn’t really argue. Sebastien had been horrible. No wonder when I’d offered Zee a chance at safety, he’d jumped at it. Yet, he still sometimes came back. He’d returned to Razorsedge two nights ago, when he thought I’d used him. Punishing himself. And Sebastien had welcomed him with open arms.

It hurt, knowing Sebastien was Zee’s safety net, when I’d hoped I was.

“Please tell me that wasn’t a waste of time, and you learned something of use in there?”

“I did, and I’m sorry. He was out of line. You didn’t deserve that.”

“How do you know what I deserve, Adam?”

“I just meant...” He was still angry, which was fair. I shouldn’t have brought him to Runo with no warning. “Never mind. Sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize for trying to help a friend,” Reynard said softly. Perhaps he understood a little more of Zee’s world now too, and a little more of Zee.

But if Zodiac wasn’t in Runo with Sebastien, and he wasn’t at the hotel, where was he?

A murder, Claymore missing, and what if Zodiac was missing now too? If Reynard was right, we were about to meet the man who might be behind all of the strange goings-on.

Hopefully, it went better than the meeting with Sebastien.