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“Ah yes, you failed to gift this bundle of contradictions to Mommy.”

I figured she meant me, and smiled innocently.

“No glamor, Mr. Vex. It’s like seeing you naked,” she giggled.

“I’m just a normal human now,” I agreed, pretending to be sad about it. It didn’t take all that much effort.

Daisy laughed. “That didn’t work before, and it’s not working now. Do you think I’m just a twelve-year-old girl? No. I’m the queen of the entire vampire race. The best of all races. So let us discuss your surrender.”

“Surrender? Erm, well, it was more of a truce⁠—”

“No, it’s surrender. Here is what I want, and if I do not get it then I will have my people sue you so hard, you will have to dismantle this hotel and sell it off, piece by woodworm-riddled piece. Number one: Lord Reynard will be returned to me for punishment and his eventual death, and that is me being lenient. Non-negotiable.”

Death by torture was lenient?

Zee was giving it his all on the stage, making the bar bounce to the beat. “I’d sell my soul . . . for you, babe.”

“Number two: this hotel will be my new playhouse,” Daisy continued. “Number three: that demon’s tongue shall be torn from his mouth, chopped into tiny pieces, and fed to my Guinea pigs, Mr. and Mrs. Tiddles.”

“You have Guinea pigs?”

She pointed at Zee without turning her head. “And his wings on my wall. As for you, Mr. Adam Vex, I want your heart in a jar, so I can watch it shrivel up and die on my bedside table. Then I will grind it up and sprinkle the dust on my glass of milk. Just like this one.” She picked up the innocuous looking glass of milk and brought it to her lips, then spotted the dark dusting on its surface. “What’s this?”

“Cinnamon,” Tom said. “Adds a warming kick.”

Tom was being too nice.

She’d figure out something was wrong. Tom was never nice.

I held my breath and took a nervous glance at Victor.

He wasn’t moving either. His resting Victor face was as blank as always, but he couldn’t hide that tightness around his eyes.

All she had to do was drink her milk.

Daisy slowly lifted her gaze from the cinnamon-sprinkled glass of milk. “You wouldn’t be trying to poison me, now would you, Mr. Tom Collins?”

Tom’s shoulders hardened into a line, his chin lifted. “Your words wound me. They strike at the core of my very being. These drinks?” He flung a hand out behind himself, encompassing the racks of colorful bottles. “These drinks are my children. Nurtured and cherished with my every living breath. My craft is my soul, the reason my heart beats in my chest.”

He didn’t have a heart, but he was on a roll.

“Satisfying each and every customer is my single purpose for existing. Your liquid wish is my command. Every drink I serve in this forsaken shitheap of a hotel is the pinnacle of liquid sustenance. I strive for perfection with every fiber of my artificial being. My work is my art! Why would I poison you?” He paused, and closed his soliloquy with a demure smile. “I am but a humble AI bartender, but I guarantee that glass of milk is my magnum opus. There, in your hand, is the finest glass of milk you will ever consume.”

Daisy’s eyes had gotten wider as she’d listened to his monologue, and now it was over she smiled at me. “I had to be sure.” She took a sip.

I couldn’t hear Zee anymore, just the sound of my galloping heart.

I didn’t dare look at Victor. Or Tom.

My smile stayed pinned to my face.

“It is very nice,” Daisy said. “So, back to my generous terms⁠—”

She began to turn to face Victor, but jerked upright. A tiny gasp left her lips, and Daisy fell forward. Tom whipped the glass of milk away just in time for Daisy’s forehead to meet the bar where it had been.

My thudding heart stopped.

Tom’s little smile slid down at one corner, turning into a murderous smirk.