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Zee rolled his eyes. “Right, because an influential billionaire vampire baron, volunteered to save a fabulous sex demon from his asshole pimp? Because that’s a thing that happens in the real world?” Zee grinned, but only to bare his little, sharp teeth.
It did sound farfetched. “That’s actually, exactly what happened,” I confirmed.
Zee pointed a sharp fingernail at Reynard. “You, Fancy Daddy, are manipulating Adam’s good nature for reasons, and it’s not even fucking subtle. You’re using his feelings for me to make yourself look good. You’re so transparent.”
“You’re wrong, demon,” Reynard glowered. “I stole your contract because I care.”
That last word dropped like a hammer and silenced the room. Reynard’s eyes widened as he realized he’d revealed more than he’d wanted. At the bar, Tom Collins clattered some mixers together, trying to save us the awkwardness, but also proving he was listening to every single word.
Reynard cleared his throat and shuffled in his chair. “That is to say, the smooth running of this hotel benefits me greatly, since I intend to stay here, and has nothing to do with any personal attraction . . . feelings . . . desire . . . ahem . . . toward either of you. Because there obviously aren’t any. Feelings. Or desires.” He swallowed, loud enough we all heard it.
Zee stared, mouth slightly open. “Who are you and where is the real Victor Fuck-Hard?”
Reynard sighed. “Demon, your juvenile names are not amusing.”
“I’m fucking hilarious. Tom?” Zee called. “How hilarious am I?”
“Fucking hilarious,” Tom agreed.
Zee gestured and reclined in his chair, suddenly smug, where before he’d been seconds away from ditching us. He’d just gotten Reynard to admit to having feelings, and now he was watching Reynard squirm like a worm on a hook. I’d done the same thing earlier, before Zee’s arrival, and admittedly, it did feel good to pry open Reynard’s hard outer shell to find his gooey, yummy center.
Reynard let out an exasperated growl and huffed through his nose. “It appears we all want the same outcome—which is for the hotel to run smoothly—and for that to happen, its proprietors must be free to perform their duties without outside threats impeding their efficiency.”
Zee snorted. “That’s a whole lot of words for let’s go fuck up Sebastien.”
Reynard considered it, and said, “It is.”
Was that an option? I leaned forward. “Can we do that? Can we just go and . . . uh . . . unalive Sebastien? Like we dealt with Baroness Reynard?”
“No.” Zee shut me down. “If I could fuck him up, I’d have done it the first week. Contracts are sacred. I can’t attack him. He owns me. He can do what he likes. Those are the terms we all abide by.”
Contracts and deals, they couldn’t be broken. Humans had their laws—Lost Ones had deals. “But you didn’t sign the contract, your general did. You had no choice in any of this.”
“I told you, demons don’t get choices. We’re all sold into servitude. I was sold into the military, and it didn’t fucking matter because I liked it. Fucking thrived on it. Killing suckers is my kink.” Reynard let out a rumbling, warning growl, but Zee winked and continued. “Shit went tits up when the veil sealed, trapping me here. No war, no purpose. My battalion had to find one, and fast. Copernicus sold us so we’d survive, and who cares if I had to fuck for money? I like fucking. I’m the best at fucking. Free food, right? Win-win.”
“Except Sebastien isn’t a win,” I said.
“He showed his colors pretty fuckin’ quickly, and we knew we were in for a whole world of hurt for a very long time. When he started fixating on me, and eased off his shit treatment of the others, we all just kinda let it happen.”
Just because he was used to it—because he’d surrendered to it—didn’t make it right.
“Where did Sebastien find the money to purchase all of you?” Reynard asked. “He couldn’t have had much wealth here.”
Zee shrugged, tilted his chair back, and kicked his boots up on the table. “Don’t know.”
“What did he do before coming here?”
“I don’t know that either.” His tail sought out my leg, and began to loop around my ankle. “I’d never met him before. Whatever he was, doesn’t matter. We all left our lives behind and made new ones.”
“We need to find your general,” Reynard said. “The contract is solid, but there’s a slim chance Copernicus knows more, and perhaps knows a way to void it.”
“I know where Copernicus is,” Zee said, unlooping his tail. “He runs an animal shelter in LA.”
“Oh, he saves pets? That’s nice.” Unexpected, but nice. An ex–warrior demon general who saved animals. Not everything had to be bad. “He sounds like a good person.”
Zee chuckled, and shook his head. “Adam, Kitten. You’re adorable. Copernicus doesn’t save strays.”
“Oh.” What else could an animal sanctuary do?
