Chapter 6

Reynard'sblack sedan made its typically sleek arrival outside Razorsedge, but this time, it was gone eleven, and all of Demontown's nightlife witnessed us cruise to a stop. Some demons even gathered around the car, expectantly awaiting the opening of the doors.

This definitely was not subtle.

"Adam?"

I wiped my sweaty hands on my thighs. I wore a nice, casual, pale blue sweater and black pants, and had tried to style my bouncy hair. Nothing too fancy. I looked like Reynard's valet, since he wore a suit that was probably worth a million dollars. "Yes?"

Reynard offered up his softest, most charming smile. "Relax. No harm will come to you while you're at my side."

His voice, so deep and smooth, had me swallowing hard.

"Oh, yes, I know. Thank you." Why was I spanking—thanking him? We hadn't done anything yet. It wasn't as though we were about to walk into a demon sex-club and pretend to Sebastien we were about to engage in la mort d'amour. Death sex. With Lord Reynard. Mercy.

Reynard had said on the ride over, that we weren't actually going to do anything—the death sex was just a ruse to get in the door—but when in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? Wasn't that how the saying went? Oh deary.

All I had to do was get inside, get Zee's contract, and get away.

Reynard's driver opened the door and Reynard exited the vehicle. Razorsedge's thumping music spilled in, along with the general chatter and remarks of demons side-eyeing our emergence.

"Adam?"

"Yup?" I blinked up at Reynard as he leaned back inside.

"It's time to go."

"Oh, right, yes." I sprang from the seat, thanked the driver, and smiled at Velvet, who was watching all this from the neon steps. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, as Reynard elegantly trailed along behind me in all his suit-clad perfection. The glow from the neon lights made rainbows in his black hair, and by the stars, how was I going to do this without revealing how I actually did want to jump his bones and ride him hard?

I couldn't think about that. This was strictly about saving Zee. Not getting frisky with a vampire lord. Focus, Adam.

Flickering neon light shone in Reynard's eyes and licked along his lips. He stopped beside me, like an elegant statue of poise and grace.

Don't focus on Reynard. Focus on getting inside the club. There's the door. Open it.

"Hey, Velvet." I waved and climbed the few steps, hoping to slip right past Velvet, leaning against the wall beside the big black door.

"Hey there, babycakes. Who's this slick piece of ass, then?"

"This is a friend of mine."

"Good evening," Reynard purred, turning his charm level up to eleven.

Velvet tilted her head, studied Reynard from his polished shoes to his smooth black hair, and frowned. Anyone could wear a suit, but it was the eyes that marked him as vampire. "You should go on your way now. We don't allow suckers in 'ere."

"Oh, no, it's fine," I laughed. "Sebastien invited us." Which was sort of true.

She shrugged—arched an eyebrow. "I hope you know what you're doing, Adam."

"Is Zee here?" We hoped he wasn't, but it seemed likely. If we encountered him we'd have to keep our story straight. We were here to engage in—ahem—la mort d'amour. He'd be confused, and probably suspicious, but he also knew how much I wanted to climb Reynard like a ladder, so he wouldn't stop us.

"He is, sugar. Want me to text him?"

"No, no, it's fine. We'll find him inside." I hurried through the door with Reynard in tow. The pink-eyed albino demon at the front desk, grunted for us to leave our weapons, then saw Reynard. "No suckers." He pointed down, to where a hand-painted sign on the front desk read: No Fang Fuckers.

"It's alright, we have an invite," I said.

"Can't let you in."

This demon was going to need more than my word that Reynard was allowed inside. This was it. Once we did this, there was no going back. It wasn't too late. We could still turn around. Could think up another plan that didn't involve me spending some quality time in a sex room with Lord Reynard.

Reynard rested his arm on the desk. "Call your boss down here, friend."

The demon snorted. "Ain't no friend of suckers."

Reynard's little mind trick hadn't worked, not on this strong-willed demon.

"Please," I added. "Sebastien knows us."

Grumbling, the demon picked up his phone and dialed, then held one end of the phone near his mouth, leaving it on speaker.

"See," I told Reynard. "Saying please sometimes gets the same results your talent does."

"What is it?"Sebastien's sharp voice crackled.

"I got a sucker at the door, wants to enter, says he has an invite."

"The fuck you bothering me with this shit for, dickface? No suckers."

"Sebastien?" I piped up. "Hello. Uh. Adam here."

"Adam Vex!" Sebastien's voice switched from irritated snaps into a smooth, seductive purr. "Back for more? You got a death wish, stupid little human?"

"Uh, no, it's just, uh . . . you said . . . when I came here before, that uh . . . me and uh, a friend could . . . come back and erm . . . maybe?—"

"Spit it out, for fuck's sake. Ugh, fucking wait there."

The call ended, and the guard grunted at us to wait by the sticky chairs and plastic plant.

Reynard folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall, apparently relaxed, although his eyes scanned the faces of everyone who passed us. Then his gaze landed on me, and the smallest of smiles lifted his lips. That smile landed like a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

It was good to have backup.

Sebastien surged into the lobby in a blast of baby pink—accented with snow-white details on his jacket and pants—with his long white hair currently pinned up in an artfully messy bun.

"The fuck are you doing here with that? Was one warning not enough? You thought you'd bring your suit back, to what? Make you look big? You just look like a simp. Don't embarrass yourself. Fuck off. Bye."

He was a lot. Every time. I took a breath, reeling from his tirade.

"Then do you rescind your offer?" Reynard asked, adding some much needed composure to the conversation.

"What fucking offer?"

"La mort d'amour?You offered us a room, no?"

"La mortdafuq?" Sebastien straightened, then stepped back. A few nearby demons, including the one at the desk, fell quiet too. It probably wasn't often that they saw their boss lost for words.

Sebastien's wings gave a little flutter, and from watching Zee... that showed he was interested, perhaps even intrigued. "I did say that..." Sebastien purred and tilted his head. His black pupils widened, swallowing the pale blue of his eyes. "Well then, right this way." After turning on his heel and vanishing his wings, he led us deeper into the club, tail swishing behind him.

My heart pounded, hard and fast, like the music trying to break through the walls. This was happening. It was working.

"Death sex. You're a kinky fuck, human. You taking this to its limits, vampire? Or just for fun?" Sebastien asked, leading us down several steps into a neon-lit hallway. Several of the doors hung open, revealing lavish rooms inside, like private booths with a bed area. A few doors were closed too. Probably occupied.

"For fun," Reynard replied, since my brain had forgotten how to word.

"If you change your mind, I'll pay good money to film you fuck the human to death. Snuff videos sell for a fortune." Sebastien glanced over his shoulder, pupils blown wide now. His wings sparked some too, dusting the air with pale blue glitter.

"Money is not something I'm short of."

We'd been concerned that Sebastien might ask why we'd come to Razorsedge to erm... do the thing, when we could just engage in death sex at the hotel, but Reynard had suggested Sebastien would be too titillated to ask. He was right.

Sebastien opened a door for us, into a large suite with a red leather–cushioned booth area to the right and a bed draped in red curtains on our left.

"You have the room for an hour. If you need longer, hit the button over there on the control panel. Oh, and don't forget, I'll be watching. As was the deal."

"Of course, as was the deal," Reynard said, heading into the room without a moment's hesitation.

Sebastien eyed me from his towering height, like a bug he'd like to squish. "Erm, thank you." I stepped inside too, and Sebastien swept the door closed.

Reynard and I stood alone in the large, sumptuous, and comfortable room. I couldn't hear the music as much now, so there was adequate soundproofing should things get noisy.

"So." I clapped my hands together. "This is nice. It's very..." Hot? Erotic? Sexy?

"Red," Reynard said for me. "Look for the camera." Straight to business. Always the professional.

"Yes. Right. The camera." I hurried toward the gleaming, stainless-steel control panel on the back wall and its array of candy-colored buttons. Poking at one opened a side panel in the booth, revealing a small drinks cabinet stocked with wine. A mini bar. I jabbed the next button, and a drawer popped open in the oval table in front of the booth. That one appeared to be filled with essential oils of all different colors. Massage oils? No wait, flavored lubricant. I jabbed that button again, closing it before Reynard saw.

When I pressed the third button, a whirring sounded, the ceiling panels opened, and an array of chains and leather dropped from above. There were, very clearly, four straps ending in buckles, creating a large sling of some kind. It looked like a medieval torture device.

I blinked, frozen in place.

Reynard also blinked. Twice. And paused, midway through adjusting his shirt cuffs.

A drawer beside the bed popped out with a loud clang, revealing a selection of coiled whips.

"I doubt we'll be needing those," Reynard said smoothly.

"Oh. Right. Yes. I mean no. No! Definitely not?" I jabbed at the panel, missed the button, and hit the one next to it. A drawer under the bed rolled out, displaying a rack of dildos and buttplugs that put Zee's drawer of dicks to shame. Big ones, small ones, studded ones, colorful ones, double dicks, small dicks, spikey ones, fat ones. So many... The display went on and on.

"Or those," Reynard added, eyebrow arched.

I turned my back on him, and the dicks, and punched the buttons, desperately trying to hide everything. Heat flushed my face. "Oh dick—dear!"

Help.

"Adam." He appeared at my side, took my hand, and proceeded to switch off all the buttons, hiding the toys away. "Breathe."

I was breathing, a lot. Too much. Mercy, why was there so much air in this room?

Placing my hand over his chest, I felt his heart's thump-thump—he definitely did have a pulse. I looked up, and found his smile again. He leaned in. Blood rushed in my veins. Yes, kiss me, Daddy. He bowed his head. His silver eyes captured all my thoughts and set them on fire. I parted my lips, ready—closer—so ready.

He veered right, his cheek skimming mine, and he whispered, "We must find the camera or this will not work."

Mercy, he smelled so good. Just a hint of cinnamon and something exotic. Whether it was his cologne or just him, he always smelled delicious. By the stars, give me strength to resist.

"Slow dance with me."

"What? Okay." I didn't need much persuasion, since his hands had already settled on my back and eased me closer. What was I supposed to do, if not hold him close and gently rock with him in a seesaw motion, even if there wasn't any music to dance to? But then he reached out and found a button on the panel for that. A soft, romantic melody began to play in the background.

Well, this was so nice. I sighed, finally beginning to thaw.

"I see it," he said, then stepped from my arms and backed toward the bed.

He'd seen what?

He shrugged off his jacket, and even that movement was graceful. His gaze skewered me, kicking my heart back into a thousand beats per minute. We were being filmed, so this was all an act, but that didn't stop my blood from simmering and my body from singing.

"Tell me you want me."

I swallowed, or tried to, but my throat had inexplicably shrunk around my answer.

"Tell me, Adam," he ordered.

"I . . ."

"Yes?" He shoved his sleeves up their final inches, behind his elbows, exposing strong forearms. And I was done for.

He'd barely touched me, just glared and ordered, and my knees were already weak. I bit my lip. He hadn't looked down, but if he did, he'd know how aroused I was. Was this wrong? It didn't feel wrong.

He strode forward, boxed me in, and backed me against the wall.

I gasped, trapped by the elegant hardness of Victor Reynard, bracketed between his braced arms. "Tell me, Adam, how much you want me." His eyes blazed. This was Victor unhinged, Victor at the pinnacle of authority.

"I want you," I whispered, afraid it was true. "A lot." Words were hard.

"Good." He bowed his head. His mouth hovered over mine, so close the kiss already burned me up. "Because I want you too."

A tiny, strained moan gurgled up my throat, and all Zee's words came flying back to me about how Reynard had hangups, but once he got over them, he'd take me. I wanted that. Wanted him. Wanted to lick him all over, then have him tell me what to do and how to do it.

Reynard slammed a fist into the wall. I yelped, and looked down, to find the new hole he'd made fill with dancing electric sparks. The camera.

He pushed off, gave himself a realigning shoulder-roll and cracked his knuckles. "Come then, Adam. We do not have long." He grabbed his jacket and dashed out the door.

I clung to the wall—panting, hard, stunned—as though I'd been railed all over, my skin on fire and dick heavy. He'd barely touched me.

"Adam?"

"Yes. I'm coming." I might come. I wasn't far off. I shuddered, peeled myself from the wall and stumbled into the corridor, finding Reynard checking both ways.

"We need to find a weak-willed guard, someone easily manipulated who has access to the rest of the club," Reynard said, going over the plan we'd agreed on.

"Right. Yes." If my brain hadn't turned to Jell-O, I'd have known where to find such a guard. "Erm. The stage?" I pointed one way, then the other. "There's security there."

"Alright, let's go there." He grasped my shoulder and peered into my eyes. "We must move fast, Sebastien may already know we've left the room."

"Uh-huh. Fast. Yup."

"Adam?" Black lashes swept closed, then opened again, presenting mesmerizing eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No. Yes. No. Uh-huh. Fine." Except for the overpowering urge to drag him back into that room and make him order me around some more. Maybe try out some of those restraints? Have him say my name to chastise me.

A giggling pair of demons stumbled out of a nearby room and headed toward us. Reynard scooped me to one side and propped me against the wall. He waited until they'd passed, and then his firm hand cradled my chin, tilting it up. He examined my face. His smile faded. "I was under the impression you were immune to my talent, but it seems I was mistaken. My apologies, Adam. It will wear off."

"No, no it's good, it's fine, I just..." I just really needed to drop to my knees and suck Vampire Daddy. Right here. Right now. If he told me to, I'd do it in a heartbeat. This was... new, and kinda weird. But good weird. Like feeding Zee was good weird.

"We're here for Zodiac, remember?"

Zodiac. Yes. I needed to snap out of it and focus. "Alright—I'm all right. Let's go."

We hurried from the warren and back up the stairs, following the sound of thumping music, through corridors and up more steps, then emerged into the main stage room and dance floor. Colored lights flickered and swept across the crowd, but the chance of anyone paying us any attention was slim. Most people watched the male demon dancing naked on stage.

"There." Reynard had spotted a security guard. Like a shark scenting blood, he carved through the crowd. "Good evening." The guard—a gargoyle—turned his head and fixed his gaze on Reynard's. "We are the most important people in this club tonight. You will escort us to Sebastien's suite. Anyone who attempts to stop us, you will deal with."

"Yes," the gargoyle said, his face slack.

"Good. Lead on."

The big gargoyle trudged forward, cutting through the middle of the room in a not-so-subtle stomp toward the side door. Reynard followed in his wake, and I tagged along behind, glancing around to make sure nobody was paying us any attention. Thankfully, the dancing, naked demon had everyone under his thrall. So far, so good. Now we just needed to get inside Sebastien's room and find the contracts. If we'd timed it right, Sebastien would already have left, looking for us. He'd never suspect we'd be inside his suite.

The gargoyle plodded through the door, into the narrow stairwell, then up to the landing outside Sebastien's room, where the keen-eyed demon guard waited.

"Let us through," Reynard said.

The guard straightened. "Not happening, sucker."

"Deal with him," Reynard told the gargoyle. It happened so fast, the guard didn't have much time to react before he found himself picked up by the neck and slammed into the wall behind him. "Open the door." The gargoyle leaned into Sebastien's suite door and popped it from its lock.

Seeing Reynard's power in action was impressive, but also unsettling. He could walk into any locked room, anywhere, if he chose the right weak-willed person to manipulate. And I doubted he'd used his powers for good his whole life.

I followed him inside Sebastien's suite. What did I know about Reynard, really?

Sebastien's sickly sweet cologne choked the air. The smoky glass partitioned off the bedroom area, but Sebastien wasn't here or we'd have heard him already.

"Where does he keep the contracts?" Reynard asked, after telling the gargoyle to guard the door.

Sebastien had gestured at the back wall with all the cupboards when we'd been discussing contracts, so they had to be there, somewhere. "Check there."

We tore open the drawers and cupboards, looking for anything substantial that might hold important documents.

"Here." Reynard flicked open the lid on a black box file, and removed multiple documents. Lost Ones preferred printed documents. They were easier to authenticate that way. Digital files were too easy to hack, delete or alter.

He turned, and spread the contracts out on the glass coffee table. There had to be fifty documents, at least. But I could clearly see that each contract proclaimed its contents to be the property of Sebastien.

We just needed Zee's.

"What the flying fuck is this?" Zee growled from behind us. Oh no.

I straightened, stomach dropping, and turned toward the bedroom area to see Zee, wrapped in a silky blue gown with blue feather trim.

"Adam, what?" The surprised look on his face quickly tightened to betrayal. "How did you get in here?"

I swallowed, and glanced at Reynard, at a loss for where to even begin to explain how or why we'd broken into Sebastien's room.

Reynard straightened too, and glanced at me, silently asking how much he should say.

"Zee, we just?—"

"You can't be here." Zee's eyes widened. "Neither of you can be here. You have to go now, before he?—"

"Before he what?" Sebastien purred, slinking through the door. "Do continue. I'll wait, while you all try and think up some explanation for why the fuck you're in my room, rifling through my shit."

A heavy, expectant silence fell over us.

Sebastien chuckled a heartless laugh, and his cruel, cold eyes cut to Zee. "Did you think you could trick me, Zodiac?"

"Zee doesn't know anything about this," I explained. "It was all my idea."

But Sebastien wasn't listening. He sashayed toward Zee, tail sweeping, wings back. "You know what I do to bitches who misbehave."

Zee's tail twitched, but instead of standing taller, he folded his arms over his fluffy gown. "Leave." He gritted his teeth, making the muscle in his cheek twitch. That one word was meant for us.

"Oh no," Sebastien laughed. "They fucking stay and watch. Since I'm owed a show, and these two cockteasers pulled out early."

"Zee didn't know about this," I protested, starting forward, but Reynard's arm shot out, blocking me. Sebastien would punish him, more than he already had. He'd hurt him.

The defiance on Zee's face fizzled out. His shoulders drooped, lowering his wings. "It was my idea," he lied.

"Zee, no—" Why would he say that?

"It was me," he told Sebastien, dead in the eyes. "Let them leave."

"The fuck did you think was going to happen?" Sebastien demanded of him. He reached up his sleeve, and withdrew a slim length of chain. Zee saw it, and from how his eyes widened he knew what it meant. "You think you're the first to try and tear up your contract? You know what I do to little bitches like you?"

I couldn't stand by and watch this. "Stop!"

Sebastien spun, and launched the chain at me. Its short length shouldn't have reached, but as he whipped it out, the links extended into a long, jagged length that shot across the room toward my neck. Reynard lunged, and flung up his arm. The chain looped around his wrist, tied off, and Reynard let out a low warning growl, the chain now fixed on him.

"I caught a sucker. You wanna play, vampire?" Sebastien crooned "You think you can take me Baron? Like old times?" He yanked on the chain, jolting Reynard forward a few steps.

"I don't need to," Reynard warned. "Gargoyle, attack Sebastien."

The gargoyle thundered into the room and barreled toward Sebastien.

Sebastien dropped the chain, pulled a pistol from under his jacket, pointed it at the gargoyle's chest and pulled the trigger. The weapon barked, the gargoyle jerked, but kept on marching for Sebastien. Sebastien fired again, then again, making the gargoyle jerk each time.

Sebastien would kill his own guard. "Stop." I glanced at Reynard. "Stop this." He could order the gargoyle to stop, but wouldn't.

Sebastien fired a fourth time, and the gargoyle dropped to his knees, then pitched face first into the floor. Dead.

"Ugh, what a mess." Sebastien grumbled. He suddenly swung the gun up, aimed on me.

"No!" Zee yelled.

Reynard moved, turning into liquid shadow, and must have slammed into Sebastien, because he was there one moment, then gone the next. The smoky-glass partition exploded as a vampire and a demon flew through it.

Sebastien shrieked, landing on his back on the bed. Reynard had him pinned, jaw wide, fangs extended, going for his neck, but Sebastien levered him back, wrestling. "Zodiac!" Sebastien screamed. "Call him off, or every last fucking demon in this club dies because of you! Just like Cherise. They'll all die!"

Zee's tail lashed now. He glowered at Reynard, still trying to sink his fangs into Sebastien's neck, then at me. Fury poured off him. His tail beat the air, whip-like.

"She's dead because of you!" Sebastien screeched. "Come back to me, stay with me, and nobody else gets hurt." Sebastien struggled to brace Reynard off him. "The fucking whore deserved it. They all deserve it. And they will all die, one by one, until you kneel to me." Reynard growled. "Get this fucking leech off me!"

Zee glanced to me again, and there was that resignation, that moment when he surrendered. For his friends. For me.

"No, Zee."

His eyes said sorry for him. "Reynard, let him up. Take Adam, and go," Zee said.

"No." I marched toward him. "I am not leaving you here. Not again. I can't leave you here with him."

"This isn't about you, Kitten." He sounded calm, but the way his wings flared and his tail whipped back and forth said he was far from it. "It's about keeping people safe. If I'm here, they are safe, and so are you. Victor," Zee growled, turning away from me. "Don't make me fight you in a fluffy gown."

"Zee, please..." I sidestepped, putting myself between him and the battle on the bed. "What about the hotel, about us? Isn't that worth something?"

"It was fun," he said sadly. "But it's not for me."

"No!" I slammed my hands into his chest, rocking him back a step. "You'll fight for Reynard, you'll fight for everyone out there, but you won't fight for you?"

"I think we both know I'm nothing special, Adam. But you are." He grabbed my face in his hands. "Go, be fucking amazing. I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

My heart cracked and my voice came out broken. "You're supposed to be with me."

"I'd have liked that, but this ain't no fucking fanfic, Kitten." He slammed a bruiser of a kiss on my mouth, then shoved me back so hard I almost fell over a coffee table. "Victor, get the fuck off Sebastien," Zee ordered. "Don't make me wrestle you buck naked. Neither of us is ready for that shit."

Reynard eased off a ruffled Sebastien and stepped back. He clicked his fangs away and adjusted his clothes, then smoothed his hair. They eyed each other, glaring daggers.

No. This wasn't right. The contract was just a piece of paper. "You could fight for us, for you, here and now, but you won't. And that's on you, Zee!"

His face fell, and a horrible stab of guilt twisted my guts. Oh no, I'd hurt him.

I hated him, even if I knew why he did it—to save everyone else. But I admired him too. He was doing the right thing, instead of hiding or running. It might have been the bravest thing I'd ever seen, and I was ashamed of how weak I was. Because I couldn't stand to leave him here, but I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

I fled the room, and only stopped to breathe when I stumbled outside the club. Velvet didn't dare ask if I was alright. And the other demons cleared a path, moving out of my way.

Reynard reappeared a few minutes later, and used his phone to summon his car.

He didn't say a word.

Slumped against the wall, I closed my eyes, and breathed.

Once upon a time, in a land, far, far away, I would have leveled the club and everyone in it. I'd have burned all of Demontown to the ground. I could take Sebastien and crush him like the bug he thought me to be, but then they'd come for me—the humans, the hunters, vampires, demons, sorcerers, witches, all the Lost Ones. They'd come for me, and they'd tear out my heart. Just like Zee had done.

"Adam?"

I bent double and grasped my thighs, trying to hold myself together. It hurt, inside, all over. It hurt like I was breaking open and spilling out.

I wanted to explode.

See how they treated me then.

"Adam? The car," Reynard said gently.

The car was here. I opened the rear door, and scooted along the back seat to slump against the other door. Reynard climbed in, and we were away, leaving the neon lights and chaos of Demontown behind.

I propped my chin on my knuckles and stared out the window. "He left me, Victor."

"I'm sorry."

Zee had chosen Sebastien. The hotel wouldn't be the same without him. I missed him already, missed him like he'd made a hole in my heart.

"But we did get this," Reynard said.

I turned my head, and saw that Reynard had removed a neatly folded sheet of thick paper from inside his jacket. He opened it, and there, at the top, I read:

Contract of Sale. Battalion warrior Lycian (Zodiac).

It wasn't over yet.

Zee might have surrendered, but I never would. Not when it came to the people I cared for.