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“Exactly. Coincidence?”

I huffed a laugh. “You sound like Zee.”

“I have not decided. If I were to accept, it would mean I’d have to spend a great deal of time away from the hotel. Away from you.”

Which was about to happen anyway, as I’d be locked behind bars in a powerful Lost Ones holding facility. “You were meant for more than running a three-star hotel, Victor.”

Tom snorted. “Two stars, at best.”

“What of Zodiac?”

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “He’s got some hotshot Hollywood agent wanting to buy the rights to his life story. There will be movies, books, the works. He thrives in the spotlight.”

“Hm. I shall consider my options.” Victor sipped his drink, making thoughtful noises.

It seemed as though everyone had a future—everyone but me. But maybe that was how it should be? I had done terrible things. I did eat people, which wasn’t very socially acceptable. But nobody was perfect, right?

It didn’t matter.

I’d enjoy the party, and tomorrow would come whatever happened.

“Have you seen Zee? He’s organizing a big shindig tonight to celebrate everyone being alive. At least, I think that’s what it’s for.”

“I have not. I will make sure to avoid him. He’s incorrigible when party planning.” He said it with a smile.

“Or.” I puffed out a sigh. “We could all hop into the Love Wagon and tour the country, solving crimes. Or doing them?”

“That would be an appealing alternative, if it weren’t for the fact the Love Wagon exploded with the harvester right after we’d extracted Cain’s power.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. Y’know, why did it turn him human?”

“The same reasons it turned you mostly human. Gideon Cain had been hiding in human glamor, just like you. With the harvester turned up to its maximum potential, and the majority of his power extracted, he was reduced down to whatever was left. In his case, a late fifties mortal man.”

I finished up my whiskey. “At least it’s over.”

“Indeed. At least it is over,” he repeated, sounding about as happy as I was. Which is to say, not much.

“Well, you two are rays of fuckin’ sunshine,” Tom grunted. “Go mope somewhere else, you’re scaring off real customers.”

I had hotel chores to do, and Victor had some life choices to make, so we left the bar. The rest of the day passed by in a blur of fielding multiple calls from the press, room changeovers, folks checking out now the Gideon threat appeared to be over, and new guests checking in. The gremlins were causing a riot in the kitchens, so I sent Claymore down there with Jimmy to sort them out. Shadow had decided they wanted to travel outside the attic and maybe attend some night classes on how to blend in with humans.

The sun inevitably set, and the time to party soon came around. As promised, Zee had decorated the bar in extravagant streamers and dick-shaped balloons—I figured he’d got them from Razorsedge. The evening passed in a blur of celebration, Zee’s performances, demons dancing, and a whole lot of general fun. And nobody died. Which had to be a good thing.

But it was tough staying jubilant, knowing it was all about to be over.

Why did good things have to end?

Zee found me later on the roof, where I’d climbed to admire the twinkling city under the stars like we used to. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to me, pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his tail around his boots, and stared at the view.

Victor arrived later, making quick work of the window and the drainpipe, to climb up and sit on my left.

“Told you Murder Daddy was capable of dragging a body in through a window without anyone noticing,” Zee said, taking a swig from an unmarked bottle that Tom had probably given him.

He handed the bottle to me. I sniffed it, figured what was the worst that could happen, then drank from it too, and handed it to Victor.

“Do we know its contents?”

“Let your hair down and fuckin’ live a little, Vic,” Zee said.