Chapter 11

The rideback to the hotel was as tense as ever, with Reynard stewing in his fury, and Zee scrunched in a ball, teeth gritted at every bump and pothole the car jolted over.

Back home, Zee asked me to help him with his wing, so we headed to his room, leaving Victor marching toward the closed bar.

Muttering expletives, Zee flung off his top, and went straight to his dressing table with its bank of mirrors.

An obvious hole gaped in his left wing, as though someone had taken a giant hole punch to it.

"If I kneel, can you get to it?" he asked, digging out a medkit from among a bewildering array of hair and body products.

"Of course."

He knelt, folded his arms on the dresser top, propped his chin on them, and spread his wings for me to get to work. I stepped up to his back, in between his legs, and with his wings drooped, I could just reach the bullet hole with wound spray, and I gave it a blast.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Sorry."

"That fucking fae fuck shot me, Kitten."

"Will it scar?"

"Maybe." He grumbled. "Do you think Chef étrange will whip up some mac and cheese after you've patched me up?"

"I'll ask him. I'm sure he will."

He stayed quiet for a bit, shifting now and then to bring the wing down whenever it tried to pop back up again. Eventually, after a lot of fussing and fumbling, I managed to get some bandages stuck on both sides.

It didn't look the best, but it was clean and patched up, and he'd be alright—that was the important thing. "Okay, you're all good." I placed the medkit on the dresser beside him, but Zee stayed kneeling, chin on his arms, blinking at his reflection.

"Am I nuts, or was Fancy Fangs more growly than usual?" he asked.

"Zee, he was going to snap Kris in half because that horrible fae shot you."

Zee rolled his eyes up at me. "Do you think he's okay?"

"He's alive, so . . ."

"Not Kris. Fuck him. I mean Reynard? Not that I care, just... I don't like to creep on people's emotions, but sometimes they're a lot, and Daddy Fuck-Hard had a lot emotions going on back there."

"I think he's okay. He just needs some time to adjust to a few things."

Zee nodded, as much as he could with his head still propped on his arms. His wings stayed drooped, though, reflecting his mood. I hated to see him sad. When he was sad, my heart ached.

"You want mac and cheese?"

He sighed. "I am hungry. But what I really want is to fuck you until you beg me to let you come, even though everything is messed up in my head, and my wing fucking hurts, and there's the whole magic-sperm thing. Which we can work around, but it's not the same?—"

Three quick hard knocks rattled the door.

"I'll get it," I offered. Zee grumbled some more, something about consoling himself by watching KaraokeKris trend online.

I opened the door, and froze. Reynard braced both arms against the frame. His jacket was missing, revealing those tight, expensive suspenders restraining his fine shirt in place. His black hair spilled over one shoulder, and his eyes burned.

"Tell me to go," he growled.

I glanced over at Zee. This was his room, and his call. Zee rose to his feet and approached. He eyed Reynard warily, without saying a word. He could sense whatever vibe Reynard was giving off, and whether he was dangerous. When Reynard got beyond hungry, he had to be pinned down, but this didn't feel like that.

Half of Reynard didn't want to be here, but a whole lot of him did, too.

Maybe he could... watch? I threw a questioning expression at Zee, to see if he was open to inviting Reynard in.

Zee rolled his shoulders, and flicked his wings—although the left wing mostly just twitched. "Imma throw this out there. If Daddy Vampire watches—since that's the vibe I'm getting from him—it's going to be torture for him. For you," he corrected, looking Reynard in the eyes. "If that's your kink, fine. I'm all for it. But don't get fucking weird about it."

That made sense, since Reynard had said he wasn't ready for any kind of relationship. He could watch and not get physically involved, if that was his... kink. Then his family wouldn't have any grounds to carve his heart out, and he wouldn't feel so bad about desiring something his ancient hang-ups deemed he couldn't have.

Reynard bowed his head, and I wasn't sure if he was grateful, relieved, or already regretting being here.

He had wanted me to tell him to leave. Was I a terrible friend if I let him do something he'd made clear he didn't want to do? Yet. "Maybe it's not the right time—" The words had barely left my lips, when Reynard's hungry mouth was on them. The shock lasted less than a heartbeat, then my body remembered the desire his fangs could unleash, and I thrust my tongue in, flung my arms around him, and drew him close. He needed this, I knew that much. We all did.

He broke the kiss, but not because he didn't want to be here. Because he did. Backing up, he dropped into a chair, his gaze a storm of need and hunger.

Was this the right thing? It felt right.

I looked for Zee, needing his guiding hand in this uncharted territory. He sat on the edge of the bed, arms braced behind him, wings open. Tiny glittery sparks already fell from his wingtips. He'd lost his top earlier, and only wore pants and boots now.

He crooked a finger, and beckoned. I approached, keeping my back to Reynard, but Zee could see him, and after tilting his head, he smirked at Reynard. Then his gaze found mine again.

"Wanna give Daddy Vampire a show, Kitten?"

I knocked Zee down onto the bed, straddled his hips and braced over him. Lust sparkled in his eyes, and the smirk playing on his lips was one hundred percent Zodiac's smug satisfaction. We all knew I wanted this. But the real question was, "Do you?"