Chapter 10

The jukebox playeda tinkling tune in the background, so the empty bar wasn't as quiet as a tomb. I settled at one of the tables, Reynard joined me, and Zee fussed with the motionless Tom Collins, trying to fix a brightly colored paper hat to his head. Our actual Tom Collins would have hated it, but Zee insisted he wore the party hat before we began.

"There," he said, flopping into the chair to my left. Clearly more comfortable now, out of the inmate jumpsuit, and in his new outfit of tight pants and typical sassy top that read: Sexy Boys Doing Sexy Things. "Now Tom's less depressing."

"Hm, yes," Reynard said, without looking.

Zee folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Do you want a party hat, Your fucking Lordship?"

Reynard's thin lips got thinner as he hmphed. "We should focus on the matter at hand—namely, upholding our end of the deal we struck with Agent Leomaris—and less on hats."

Zee shrugged. "I'll get you a hat, if you want one."

"Please don't."

"What's your favorite color? Is it black? No wait. It's dishwater grey, isn't it."

"It is, in fact, red."

Zee's eyebrows shot up. "Red. Fuck. Going straight for the jugular, huh? You're such a fucking cliché."

"Adam?" Reynard enquired, turning his face toward me. His left eyebrow ticked, in what I suspected might be a silent request for help.

"Right. Yes." I shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable. We'd been out of jail for less than an hour, but we'd been gone from the hotel for two days, and several management issues had simmered to the surface among a whole array of problems that just kept mounting.

"Okay." I huffed and leaned forward, trying to clear my head and figure out where to even begin in bringing down the syndicate's black market trade in body parts. "We should kidnap Kris and torture him until he tells us everything we want to know about the trade, and also why the fae wanted me to buy that particular Tom Collins unit." There, that seemed like a reasonable and fair plan.

Zee and Reynard blinked.

Had I said something wrong? "What?"

Zee puffed and sat back in his seat. "We're just going straight to torture, huh?"

I glanced at Reynard.

"Admittedly, I was not expecting to begin there," he said.

"You're great at torture," I told him.

"Indeed. It is a hobby of mine."

Zee rolled his eyes. "Okay, violence is always fun, but you both need to calm the fuck down. I know Kris?—"

"And how are you acquainted with the fae?" Reynard asked. "Was it by the hour, perchance?"

Zee shifted forward, rested an elbow on the table, and pointed a glittery nail at Reynard. "Excuse me, but you can discover a whole lot about a person while sucking his cock. Which you won't know, since you've never sucked dick in your long, ancient, boring life."

An irritated growl rumbled from Reynard. "This task will require subtlety and finesse. I doubt your limited range of talents will be required."

"I can do subtle." Zee flopped back in the chair again. "How hard can it be?"

He sat there, with all his demon magnificence spilling over the chair—from his wings, his horns, his long, emotive tail, to his glittery nails and purple eyes.

Zee was many, many wonderful things. But subtle wasn't one of them.

"What?" he said, after several moments of awkward silence.

Offending Zee by telling him he wasn't perfect at being subtle was not going to help our current situation. "I think we should perhaps play to our strengths?" I suggested.

"Agreed," Reynard said quickly. "As my financial status is well known, we can use my reputation to set up a meeting with the syndicate's head of distribution and catch them in the act of trading."

Zee laughed aloud. "Money-pants Daddy Vampire suddenly wants to buy fae beauty potions? Like that's not sus at all? The fae are pretty, but they ain't stupid."

"Do you have a better idea?" Reynard asked, his tone increasingly clipped.

"Yeah, like I said, we go to Kris, ask who gave the order to throw us in the deep freezer, then go to that asshole, and torture them. Voila. Nobody has to go to jail or have their wings cut off."

"Kris, who tranquilized you both and locked you in a deep freezer?" Reynard queried. "And you believe he's just going to tell you the inner workings of the syndicate because you once had your mouth wrapped around his penis?"

Zee's mouth worked—lips rolling out, then pinching in. "Hmhm," he said, lips firmly pursed to hold back his laugh. "Actually, Fancy Daddy." He coughed, cleared his throat, and held three fingers up. "I had my mouth around his dick three times. Seb was running a buy-two-get-one-free promo. But I stuck my finger up his ass for free."

Reynard sighed, and closed his eyes. "These are the times I lament Tom Collins's absence."

"I'll stick my finger up your ass for free too, daddy," Zee said, fluttering his lashes. Which Reynard couldn't see, now he'd buried his face in his hands.

Zee was baiting him, but Reynard clearly wasn't in the mood to humor him, and we did have more pressing matters. "Zee, maybe?—"

Reynard abruptly stood, strode behind the bar, and after shoving up his sleeves, he clattered around the drinks.

"I'll take a whiskey," I called. Then added, "Make it a double."

Zee leaned closer and whispered, "You think the finger was too much?"

I glanced over at the bar as Reynard rattled the cocktail mixers and glasses. Knowing what I did about Reynard's complicated feelings, he probably hadn't minded the finger as much as Zee thought. It was more likely Reynard had liked the comment, causing him to pull away.

"Do not answer that, Adam," Reynard said, sloshing whiskey into a glass.

I winced, and slid my gaze to Zee, whose pupils had widened. "He has really good hearing."

With Zee silenced, we waited until Reynard returned to the table with a trio of drinks. "I do not know what I've made, as I'm clearly not a trained bartender, but I am in need of sustenance that will take the edge off my concern for both of your futures. So, drink it or don't."

Zee's drink was a blue cocktail, mine was a whole tumbler of whiskey that would probably knock me out if I downed it all, and Reynard's highball glass appeared to be a Bloody Bitch, although its red color was a little pale.

I sipped my whiskey, Reynard took a gulp of his Bloody Bitch, and Zee sampled his cocktail.

"Just so we're all clear," Zee said, licking his lips. "Was that a no, to a finger up the ass?"

"Zodiac," Reynard growled in his dark, chocolatey voice that reverberated through the table, the floor, and my whole body.

Zee grinned, propped his chin on his fist, and fluttered his lashes again. "Lay it on me, daddy. I can take whatever you'll give."

Reynard couldn't see how Zee's tail swished back and forth, so didn't realize it was a sign of just how much his answer mattered, despite Zee's bravado and innuendo.

They locked gazes—Reynard's being dead straight and unblinking, while Zee's was all warm and fuzzy and absolutely asking for trouble. Tension sizzled, or was it the wards?

Reynard wet his lips. "When you are serious about such propositions, you will have your answer. But I have little time for flippancy, since both your freedoms are in peril."

Zee slow-blinked, acknowledged the comment with a slight dip of his chin, and sat back. Speechless.

Four weeks ago they'd been at each other's throats. Today, Zee had just propositioned Reynard, and Reynard hadn't said no. This was definitely progress.

"Right then," I said, clearing the air. "So we're all agreed on torture?"

With the sun having just set, we pulled up to the sidewalk on Union Street, elegantly lined with grand multimillion-dollar mansions. Streelights blinked on, and crickets chirped. The evening air smelled like baked grass and that uniquely salty twang from the ocean.

"Wow." Each house was at least the size of the hotel, and old too, but well maintained, with neat driveways and perfect shrubs.

Zee hopped from the sedan and shook himself out. "You got a house like this, Fancy Fangs, or do you sleep in a coffin?" he asked Reynard.

Reynard sent his driver away, and replied. "All my assets were seized by Daisy and the royal family when Adam claimed me. Outside of Reynard Technologies, which I had the forethought to financially ring-fence, I have nothing."

Zee's silly grin died on his lips.

"Prior to that, what self-respecting vampire wouldn't sleep in a coffin? They're UV resistant, sound proof, and remarkably comfortable."

Zee's grin bloomed back to life. "Such a cliché." He strode ahead, passing under shadowy trees, toward number 1459—Kris's house.

I caught Reynard's eye, and smiled. The big scary vampire baron had just saved Zee from feeling bad about his coffin joke. So much for Reynard not caring about him.

"You don't sleep in a coffin, do you?" I whispered, hanging back.

"No." Reynard's little smile warmed his face. "A bed is perfectly adequate."

"You know, it's almost as though you like Zee?"

"Impossible." Reynard's smile lingered.

In the freezer, Zee had finally admitted to having feelings for Reynard. And then, back in the hotel bar, Reynard hadn't shut down Zee's finger-up-the-ass offer, but had instead left that door open to revisit in the future. Zee had helped save Reynard, and Reynard had helped save Zee. Really, their attraction was obvious. "You could tell him?"

"Regardless of my feelings, which I am still trying to untangle, to admit to caring for my enemy is a step I cannot yet take." He walked on, shoes clipping the sidewalk. "In the past few weeks, I have lost almost everything that I believed made me who I am—my family, my position, almost my life. And all because I climbed the SOS Hotel steps with the ridiculous notion of gifting you to my queen."

He"d always seemed so calm and put together, that I'd assumed he was fine. But none of us were fine. Not really. "That's a lot to deal with."

"Adding a relationship with a demon at this time is not something I can bear," he said softly. "I fear my heart would not take any further possible rejection."

Zee wouldn't reject him, but it wasn't my place to say it. This was something they had to work out between them. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that. It can't have been easy."

"Please, do not apologize, Adam." His strict tone eased, and the emotion he typically kept buried deep inside softened his gaze. "These events are my own doing, and so I must live with the consequences."

"You'll always have a home at the hotel, no matter what happens. It really is a sanctuary for all, regardless of me, or Zee, or any of that."

"And that is why I am here, with you and Zodiac, about to torture information out of a criminally minded fae. To protect you, the roof over my head, and all the SOS Hotel represents."

"Not because your favorite hobby is torture?"

"That is a bonus."

I had a startling image of Reynard from centuries ago, being summoned to a dungeon to extract information from a prisoner. He'd have arrived, rolled up his sleeves, and carried out the task with thorough efficiency and zero hesitation. Infamous, ruthless, and formidable. But inside, the man he was would have been in turmoil.

If I asked, I suspected he'd tell me all about those years. But he wouldn't be proud. The same as he wasn't proud of stealing Reynard Technologies. Baron Reynard did not like who had had been before, but he'd begun working on a better version of himself.

Regardless of feelings, Zee and I would be right here, if and when he needed us.

Ahead, Zee veered off the sidewalk and marched up a sweeping driveway toward a grand house, its window aglow from the inside. White columns held up a dramatic portico. The sporty car in the driveway probably cost more than the hotel would earn in its lifetime.

"Crime fucking pays," Zee said, waiting on the front step. "You stay here, daddy. Nobody likes vampires."

I caught Reynard's sideways glance. "As we're agreed torture is our Plan B," he said. "I will defer to your attempts to talk the information from the fae."

"Whatever." Zee flicked his nails. He pressed the bell, but from the pounding music inside, it sounded as though Kris was busy.

"How do you know this is his abode?" Reynard enquired.

"Was hired as the entertainment once. Whatever shit people talk about the fae, they know how to party. I barely remember half of it, just that it was spicy fun." He jabbed the bell again and stepped back. "Wait here, I got this." Zee hopped off the porch and disappeared around the side of the house.

I took the opportunity to look for cameras, or guards, but didn't see any security. For a crime boss, Kris seemed to be the trusting type.

"The fae, generally speaking, are overconfident in their abilities and reputations," Reynard explained, guessing my thoughts. "Installing security would show weakness. Without it, the message is clear."

"He believes he's too powerful to touch?"

"Or he's protected by someone who is."

That someone was the person we needed information on, to find out what had happened to our Tom Collins while we also avoided prison. Kris was going to help us with that.

"If you're concerned about witnesses, Adam, I'm sure Zodiac and I can handle this."

In theory they could, but they argued more than they agreed. At least if I was involved, everything would hopefully run smoothly. "No, it's fine. I'm here now."

The music inside the house shut off. I was about to suggest trying the bell again when Zee reappeared, holding his phone. "We struck fucking gold." He beamed, hopped up on the porch and jabbed the bell. "Watch a fucking pro at work, babycakes. And you, Fancy Fangs."

The door opened and Kris from the restaurant stood in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy white dressing gown, his ankles and feet bare.

"What is this?" His face fell. "Wait, you got out?" His English accent was even posher.

"No, we're still fucking in there, freezing our balls off." Zodiac flicked Kris on the forehead and strutted through the doorway, forcing the startled fae to stumble back.

"Hi," I said. "The lunch at your restaurant was very nice. The kidnapping afterward? Not so much."

Kris gaped at me as I passed by, then he laid his eyes on Victor.

"Don't I need to invite you in or something?" he asked.

"Frankly, I think that moment has passed, don't you?"

"Kris," Zee called, after walking from the entrance hall into a grand split-level, open-plan living room. "Sit down. Let's talk."

"I didn't have a choice, you must understand?" Kris hurried ahead, forgetting Reynard and me. "The order came down to deal with you. It wasn't personal. You know we're tight, Zodiac?"

Zee pulled a chair out from under a dining table and dumped it in the middle of the room. "Sure, we're good." He smiled, but it was his smile that held a lethal edge. "I mean, could have been worse, right? I've still got my fucking wings, for one. Unlike a whole lot of other demons."

Kris's shoulders drooped. "The business is legitimate. All the goods are bought outright. Demons donate their appendages and are paid accordingly."

Zee's eyes narrowed. His tail swept back and forth. "Sit the fuck down."

Kris sat, and pulled his dressing gown over his knees. "Zodiac. We're good, aren't we? We had a good time, you and me. That night?"

Zee stepped back, his wings splayed, bolstering his size and intimidation level.

I stood back with Reynard, as our services weren't yet required.

"That night was work, Kris. This is personal." Zee opened his phone, scrolled down the screen, selected a video, and showed it to Kris. The music playing was the same we'd heard on arrival, but clearer, and with Kris's karaoke vocals joining in.

"Zodiac?" Kris gulped. "What are you going to do with that?"

Zee handed his phone to me, and Reynard watched over my shoulder as Kris strutted around the living room we now stood in, wearing just tighty-whities, and belted out "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Risk Astley. He put a great deal of effort into it—his hip movements, bucking and rocking his shoulders—but unfortunately for Kris, his performance was painful.

"A somewhat tragic performance of a classic," Reynard remarked.

"Zee?" Kris whimpered. "No games, now. You need to delete that."

"Hm." Zee tapped his chin. "No."

"Hey." Kris fidgeted on the chair. "You can't come into my home, my private property, and film me. This isn't right."

"You know what else ain't right?" Zee propped his heeled boot on the chair between Kris's knees and leaned in, getting closer and closer. Kris gulped. Zee's wings ticked, shifting higher. "Conning Lost Ones out of their body parts so you can make snake-oil potions to rub on each other's dicks. The fuck is that, Kris, huh?"

Zee held out a hand. I handed him the phone back, with the video playing on a painful loop.

"C'mon?" Kris glanced at me, hoping I'd save him. "What are you gonna do with that?"

Zee shrugged. "Not to brag or anything, but my last socials video gained one point two million views in a single day. Weird-ass white-boy fae getting their funk on with Rick Astley ain't usually my vibe, but I'm willing to take a hit for the team."

"What?" Kris coughed a nervous laugh. "No. You can't. Don't. Zee, wait?" In his desperation, he looked to me again, assuming I was the soft touch. "Don't let him do this? My reputation is everything. I'll be ruined."

I shrugged. "Maybe you shouldn't have locked us in a freezer?"

"Never gonna give you up..." Zee mumbled, tapping away on his phone.

"Fuck! Alright! What the fuck do you want?! Money? I have money."

"We don't want money, Kris. We want the name of your bossman, where the black market body-parts business operates from... and that cat ornament." Zee pointed at a chonky cat ornament sitting on the fireplace mantle.

Kris gulped again, and when he next spoke, his voice broke. "I can't... I can't tell you that. She'll kill me."

"Trust me, when this hits my socials, you're gonna wish you were dead. Once it's out there, this video will be played in every business meeting, on every date. Every fucking time you step out your front door, Risk Astley is gonna haunt you."

Kris burst into fits and sobs of ugly crying. "I didn't know, I don't do it, I help with distribution, you can't do this, I don't deserve this." On and on it went.

"Zodiac broke him in under five minutes and hasn't laid a single finger on him," Reynard said, his voice low, so Zee and Kris didn't hear. "I'm impressed."

Pride made my heart swell. "Yeah, Zee's great."

"Indeed."

Reynard's eyes sparkled, and a touch of heat warmed his typically pale face. He really liked Zee getting his interrogation on. Seeing the hunger in his eyes, his gaze fixed on Zee, had my blood warming too. Maybe I should find those Reyzee fanfics Zee kept talking about, because the idea of the two of them together tingled lust through my veins.

"Oh well." Zee sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll just hit send, then."

"No! Fuck! Her name's Agatha de La Cour. She's fucking next level. Mess with her and she'll dump your ass off the Golden Gate Bridge." He rattled off an address near Hunter's Point Shipyard and slumped in the chair. "Please, you can't tell her it was me or she'll cut my fingers off."

"Huh. Must be friends of your sucker family, Your Highness," Zee remarked, glancing up from his phone at Reynard. Their gazes locked, just for a few heartbeats, and then Zee broke the contact and stepped back, dropping his phone into his pocket.

"Did you delete it?" Kris asked.

"I might."

"The fuck?!"

"Gotta make sure de La Cour pans out first. Don't worry. Hashtag KaraokeKris is safe with me."

"You're an asshole," Kris sneered. "I've had better blow jobs from cheaper slags!"

Zee blew him a kiss, swiped the cat ornament off the mantle, and nodded at us to head out.

That had gone well, considering our luck of late. A plan had worked, and we didn't even need Reynard to get his torture on. As a plus, I wasn't covered in questionable body fluids.

We left the house, closing the front door on the sounds of Kris's sobbing.

"And that, daddy, is how it's done." Zee grinned. Turning on his heel, he strutted backward down the drive. "Not a broken kneecap or missing fingernail in sight. And I didn't even have to suck cock. Aren't I the fucking best?"

"You are quite something, Zodiac," Reynard admitted, sounding and appearing genuinely impressed.

"Admit it. Say the words. Zodiac is the best."

"No, I don't think that's necessary."

"Go on, you know you want to. Start with my name. Here... let's try it together. Say Zodiac."

"No." Reynard had lost his impressed tone.

"Is."

"Adam?"

"The."

I shrugged.

"Fucking."

Reynard sighed.

"Best."

A gunshot shattered the quiet neighborhood. Zee flinched, yanked his left wing in, then flung his glare behind us, back toward the house. "Hashtag KaraokeKris is going live, you fuck!"

"That's what you get you cocksucking piece of demon shit!" Kris screeched, standing on his lawn in just his tighty-whities—that clung in all the wrong ways—waving a handgun.

Reynard vanished, and so did Kris. One of the house's front windows blew inward, and a whole lot of crashing sounded from inside. One missing vampire plus one missing fae, equaled a bad night for Kris.

"Fuck," Zee grouched, tucking his wing in closer. Blood dribbled down its flanks, onto the driveway. "Stop Reynard before he kills him."

"Are you?—"

"I'm fine. The round went through. Just hurts like fuck. Go."

I hurried back up the drive, flung open the door, and followed the path of destruction to the back of the lounge, where Reynard held Kris aloft by the neck, choking him. Kris's legs dangled. He tried to pry Reynard's fingers from his neck, but was fast turning blue.

"Victor, hey?" I inched into the corner of Reynard's vision. His eyes had blown, full silver on black. His fangs gleamed, bared and ready to strike. There didn't seem to be much left of the controlled, reserved Victor Reynard, who drank tea from a china cup and carried around a set square for furniture-making emergencies. This was unhinged, crazed, vampire-predator Reynard. "Victor, hey, erm so... please put Kris down so we don't have to go back to jail?"

"He hurt Zodiac," Reynard said, his voice more like rough gravel than its typical smooth chocolate.

"Yeah, but Zee's alright, and if you kill Kris, it gets messy. And we already have a lot of messy happening, and a whole lot of murders, so maybe don't break his neck?"

Reynard sneered. His grip tightened, and Kris's struggles began to taper off. Kris twitched.

"Victor." I stepped closer, putting myself into his line of sight, where it quickly became obvious Reynard was a second away from snapping Kris's spinal column. "It's alright. Zee is going to be okay."

"It's not alright. The feelings I have are not alright. What this fae does is not alright. Nothing is alright, Adam."

I laid my hand on his arm and leaned in, bringing it down. "Victor, look at me."

He blinked, still wild and focused on killing. But the moment his gaze skipped from Kris to me, the animal instinct faded, and the crazed silver swirl dissipated, leaving his eyes no less beautiful, just a little less murdery.

"Let's go home."

He dropped Kris, breathed in, adjusted his cuffs, and marched from the living room, long dark hair swishing down his back.

"The fuck was that?!" Kris wheezed on his hands and knees. "He nearly killed me!"

I knelt, tilted my head, and eyed the fae who sold body parts on the black market and who was silly enough to shoot Zodiac in front of me. "Be thankful I'm in no mood for murder. But if you come near us again, or threaten us in any way, I will not be as kind as he was going to be and make your end quick. No. I will ensure you suffer a long, agonizing demise during which you will beg for mercy."

Kris's face paled. "What the fuck are you people?"

"SOS Hotel management." I straightened, sucked in a deep, centering breath, and smiled. "Sorry about the mess."