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“Uhm, that’s me, Zee.” Wasn’t it obvious?
“Yes! I love being bad cop.” He reached behind him and produced a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. “You ready to talk?”
Climbing back to his feet, Wesley frowned at the handcuffs. “Aren’t those—”
“Where did you get those?” I asked Zee first.
“I never go anywhere without cuffs and lube. We’ve been lovers for like . . . two months. How do you not know this?”
I knew about the lube, for obvious reasons, but cuffs too? Was that a new thing? Never mind.
“Wait . . . You guys are together as well?” Wesley asked, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing at the bruises.
“And?” Zee huffed defensively.
“I thought you were with Victorveus?”
“We’re a threesome, a trio, a trinity, a tri-fucking-fecta.”
“Oh? Oh! Okay, uh . . . right.”
“You got a problem with that then you can meet my friendly fluffy cuffs while I defang you.”
“No! I . . . It’s just . . . a surprise. A dragon, a demon, and a vampire. Like . . . wow, that’s gotta be weird when you’re . . . you know . . . together.”
“Weird how?” Zee asked, snapping the fluffy cuffs aggressively.
“No, not weird. Did I say weird? I meant . . . unique. In a good way. Look . . . I just want to find Eddie. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to anger you guys. Adam was going through my bags, so I snapped and lashed out.”
Zee stilled. “You hurt my Adam?”
“Zee, it was nothing.”
“I am gonna lock these fluffy handcuffs around your skinny fuckin’ ankles and hang you from the ceiling like a vampire piñata. You ready?”
“What? No, wait!” Wesley backed away, frantically looking between us and probably waiting for the good cop to step in. Maybe I was the bad cop after all because I didn’t feel much like helping him until he started being honest.
“Kitten, grab his arms.”
Wesley eyed the door, clearly contemplating making a run for it. He was fast too, he may even make it, but where was he going to go? Fear widened his eyes, and maybe it felt a little good after all these years of being small, being quiet, hiding . . . Felt good being the powerful one in the room.
Power was intoxicating.
“There is no vampire management!” Wesley blurted, finally breaking.
Zee spun the cuffs on a finger. “Huh?”
“It’s a lie. There was never any new management, no buyout, no businessmen in suits. It’s a distraction.”
“But the chef said—”
“The chef who gave you drugged sandwiches?” Wesley asked.
Zee pouted and thought for a beat. “He was lyin’, huh?”
“They’re all lying. All the staff are in on it. The chef, the barman, the housekeepers . . . and overseeing all of them?”
“Larimer,” I answered.
