Chapter 1

Zee grunted. "Deeper."

"I am."

"Shove it in harder."

"It's too small."

"Kitten, have you seen the size of the hole? Put some hip action into it." He huffed, bent over the rickety cabinet, hugging all the panels in place. His wings were up, out of the way, while his tail helped him hold on. "Did you lube?"

I was trying to manhandle the cabinet's side panel into its longer back panel, lining up the little wooden-dowel things with their holes. But it wasn't going so well. Although, I could tell by the tittering coming from the customers in the bar, at least they appeared to be enjoying the show.

"I don't have any lube," I told Zee.

"Emergency lube is vital—I can't hold it. Thrust, Adam."

"I am thrusting!" I jerked my hips, trying to pump the panel into place.

"May I be of assistance?" Lord Reynard chose that precise moment to appear in the corner of my vision. I puffed my bangs from my sticky face, while awkwardly contorted around the end of the cabinet. Reynard stood back, eyebrow arched in silent judgment, holding the instruction pamphlet I hadn't read. And neither had Zee.

"Does it look like we need your help?" Zee grumbled. "Hold it!"

Reynard's beautiful, dark-lined, silvery eyes swiveled to Zee, then cut back to me, querying whether we wanted an answer.

Of course, he had to show up while I had my ass in the air and appeared to be humping a poorly put-together piece of furniture. "Uh, I think we're—" My grip on the panel slipped, and the rickety cabinet buckled. Its doors popped off, the legs twanged, and drawer shot up toward my face. Reynard grabbed my shoulder, and spun me into his firm arms as though we were back on the dance floor, just in time for me to watch Zee sprawl onto the floor with the cabinet.

He sprang back to his feet, flared his wings, and hissed at the now flattened piece of furniture. "No. I am done. You need eight arms to put this shit together. It's like fucking Jenga."

"In Jenga, don't you take pieces out?" I asked.

"Huh?" Zee grunted.

"Did you read the instructions?" Reynard asked, his warm arm still clasped around me.

"Did I read the—pfft." Zee barked a laugh. "Did I read the instructions?" he mocked, in Reynard's posh American accent. "Instructions are for losers, control freaks, and people with tiny dicks. Oh, and there I see you're holding the instructions. And Adam. There's a surprise. Also, those are in Swedish. You fucking read Swedish, Your Highness?"

Oh dear.

"I do," Reynard replied calmly. "And please, I'm a mere baron. Your Highness is reserved for immediate royal family."

Zee's tail rattled, and his eyes narrowed to dagger-like slits. But the wards didn't tingle, so that was good, right?

If I'd expected them to get along, since we'd plucked Reynard out of his family's clutches and they'd begun to use each other's first names, I'd clearly been a bit too optimistic.

Zee picked up a hammer, took a single step closer, and dropped it at Reynard's feet with a heavy clang. "Have at it, Fancy Daddy." He flicked his horns and strutted off, hips rocking, boots punctuating the floor.

"Why does he insist on calling me Daddy when we are clearly not related?"

"Oh, uh, I have no idea." I extracted myself from the comfortable niche under Reynard's arm, and brushed sawdust from my clothes. I couldn't construct the cabinet on my own, and there were a hundred other jobs to be done in the hotel.

"Why don't you take a break and I'll see what I can do?" Reynard asked. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a nearby chair, then folded his shirt sleeves up his forearms.

I could have watched Reynard's fingers tease those sleeve cuffs all day. He made each gesture precise. Each pinch had its place. Every little fold-over was performed with perfect accuracy, ensuring no gesture was wasted, and he had the kind of wrists and forearms made for advertising expensive, luxury watches. Why were forearms so sexy?

I cleared my throat. "Are you sure? Don't you have better things to be doing?"

"I have some time. The company largely runs itself." He picked up the instructions again and leafed through them. "This shouldn't take long."

If he made that cabinet as perfect as he had made the paper swan he'd once given me, Zee would despise it. "Erm... Maybe don't make it too well?"

He looked up and grimaced, as though I'd suggested he roll in mud. "You're asking me to fail?"

"Not fail, exactly, just... you know..." How was I supposed to ask him to half-ass it so Zee didn't have a crisis of confidence?

"No, I don't know. Explain, Adam. A job worth doing is worth doing properly." A good kind of shiver ran through me. One of those all-over, breathless shivers that had nothing to do with being cold, and everything to do with Reynard's firm tone of voice. "Why would I sabotage my own efforts?"

Ugh. Vampires. Were they all obsessed with tiny details? I sighed, and glanced across the bar, checking that Zee hadn't returned and wasn't within listening distance. "Just trust me. It'll make our lives easier if you're less than perfect."

"Well, that is a tall order." His mouth ticked at one corner. "But I will try to oblige."

"Good, that's good. I'll uh... go get cleaned up."

He bowed his head, and turned to begin assembling the cabinet. I'd have liked to watch, but unlike his business, the SOS Hotel did not run itself, and required constant attention so it didn't collapse like a card castle. At least the work kept me busy, and my mind off other things.

I pushed through the bar door, into the lobby, and found Zee standing with his back to me, beside a single-horned demon, at one of the waiting-area tables. I recognized Ramone—the demon with one horn from Razorsedge who had helped us dispatch Reynard's bloodthirsty wife.

He raised his hand and threw me a smile. He was shorter than Zee by several feet, but stockier, and packed with muscle under his plain clothing.

I made my way over, but Ramone's smile faded fast the nearer I got. This couldn't be good.

"Adam," Ramone said, "I hope you don't mind me coming here?"

"Not at all. You're welcome any time."

Zee perched his ass on the arm of a tired-looking chair. His wings drooped, and his tail lay limp on the floor. I didn't need to look at his face to know what I'd see there. Something bad had happened.

"There's some trouble at the club," he said, averting his purple eyes. When he did finally look up, all of their usual sparkle had faded.

"Trouble?"

"A friend of ours is missing," Ramone explained. "Cherise."

I blinked. "Missing?"

"I have to go back." Zee stood and headed for the door, his mind already made up.

He was leaving? But he couldn't. We had to talk about this. There were things I knew that he didn't. I caught his wrist, opening my mouth to explain, but as he jolted to a stop and his gaze dropped to my hand, I let go.

He looked up, his expression still concerned, but now questioning too.

I hadn't meant to grab him so hard.

I thrust both hands into my pockets, to keep from grabbing him again.

He couldn't go back there. He wasn't safe. He was safe here, at the hotel, with me. If he went back, Sebastien would sink his claws into him. I knew Zee could fight. I knew he could look after himself. But he didn't fight Sebastien. I'd seen him battle vampire royalty. He'd put a frisky lupine shifter facedown on the Razorsedge bar. But for some inexplicable reason, he didn't touch Sebastien.

How could I say all that, without saying all that? "I don't think you should go."

"It's alright, Kitten," Zee said, probably sensing my spiking anxiety. "It won't be for long."

"But what can you do that the others haven't already done?" I asked, afraid I sounded whiny, when in fact, I was scared. "Why does it have to be you? You work here now, with me. You belong here."

He smiled softly, and planted his hands on my shoulders, pinning me under his gaze. "This isn't work, it's family. You understand, right? You won't even notice I'm gone."

He ruffled my hair, then headed for the door with Ramone at his side.

My heart lurched. If he went back, Sebastien wouldn't let him go. I knew, because he'd left me a message making it clear all games were over. He believed Zodiac was his, and he'd kill to prove it.

"What if you don't find her?" I called.

Zee opened the door to let Ramone through, and shrugged. "I will. Until I do, you have Reynard."

"What?" I didn't have Reynard. And even if I did, he couldn't ever replace Zee. I had to tell him. He had to know this was all wrong. He was doing exactly what Sebastien wanted.

He stepped outside, onto the porch, and the door swung shut.

"Zee, wait." I hurried after them, but by the time I reached the deck they'd vanished, probably taking to the air.

I slumped against the porch pillar and huffed. This was... bad. He'd gone back to look for his friend. But Zee wouldn't ever find Cherise.

Because, while I'd never technically met her, I suspected I knew exactly where she was.

I looked down at the freshly dug-over flowerbeds, and the bright flowers, happy in their new homes.

Cherise wasn't going to be found.

Because she was flower food.