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“Did you perchance bring an end to Sebastien’s existence, pack him into a wooden crate, and ship him back to Gideon Cain?” Victor asked, concisely.

That was exactly what I’d done. “Uh, how do you know that?”

“I saw the jukebox crate being loaded into a van on our return to the hotel—the only box large enough to contain a body. The address label clearly showed Gideon Cain’s premises.”

It was impossible to slip anything by Victor. “It seemed fitting. And Seb did fit, so there’s that.”

Zee ruffled my hair then yanked me into a bear hug. “That’s my spicy murder twink.”

“So, what is that thing?” I asked again, spying the covered item in the back of the van.

“Ah yes, well.” Victor pinched the sheet. “We didn’t entirely fail.”

He tugged off the cover, and there was the machine I’d hoped never to see again. A harvester. Maybe the exact harvester that had stolen my power from me. It looked a bit battered from where Victor had torn into it that night at the Dine and Fight finale.

“Do not worry, it’s still broken.” Zee thumped its dented casing. A rattle sounded inside it, then a bead popped from its output tray and shot through the air.

Victor caught the little projectile, scrutinized it, then dropped it into his pocket. “Not one of yours, Adam, but worth holding onto, nonetheless.”

“Don’t eat that,” Zee warned.

Victor arched an eyebrow. “What fool would?”

Zee ruffled his wings. “Anyhoo, the harvester was out back, in one of Gideon’s barns. Fancy Fangs said he might be able to fix it.”

“Why?” I asked. That thing made my skin itch. All I wanted to do with it was set it on fire, just to be sure it wasn’t ever coming back to life.

“Only as a last resort,” Victor said. “Should Gideon manage to extract your power.”

“Please cover it up.” I shuddered and welcomed Victor’s arm scooping me close again.

“Oh, uh . . . sure.” Zee hefted the sheet back over it.

“Oh, what about Tom?” I asked, almost forgetting our foul-mouthed saboteur.

Zee pulled his phone from his tight leathers and waggled it. “He’s inside this and portable now, but also not fuckin’ happy.” Zee donned a Tom voice. “You two useless fuckups didn’t get the job done, after I set it all up for you.” He tossed me the phone. “You just gotta plug the phone in behind the bar.”

“Me?” It sounded as though Tom might come out swinging.

“He was exceedingly graphic in his assessment of our failure,” Victor agreed. “He is less verbally aggressive toward you.”

Really? Tom had always been pretty vocal when it came to listing my many faults too. “He’ll be alright once he sees we’ve got a hotel full of people he can sell cocktails to.”

“So, we got a harvester, one hundred percent occupancy, and the wicked bitch of Razorsedge is finally dead.” Zee’s grin bloomed. “This is a fucking awesome night. Imma get changed into sparkles.” He poofed away, probably into his own room, despite it being occupied.

Victor stayed by my side, in no hurry to leave. The night was quiet around us, the neighborhood sleeping. Zee’s storm clouds had faded, letting the stars twinkle.

“Are you truly alright?” Victor’s smooth voice rumbled through me.

“Yeah.” I dropped my head back against his shoulder. “Gideon Cain will send Daisy next.”

“Yes, I suspect so.”

We were going to have to “deal with” her too. And when Gideon was done sending his people, he’d eventually have to confront us himself. But in the meantime, he’d be desperately trying to figure out how to bleed my power dry.

“How do we stop him, Victor?”

Victor’s cheek twitched. “I do not know.”