Page 32 of Great Service from Top to Bottom

“With the biggest cock.”

“I haven’t seen any other demon dicks, so . . .”

Zee tipped my chin up. “Lover, there’s only mine.”

“I’d kiss you, but I think our lips might freeze together.”

We settled on the floor, against the wall, with Zee’s wings trying to keep out the cold, and waited for the lock to snick over. The minutes ticked on, and it seemed more and more likely that Little Jimmy had saved himself. Or maybe he’d been sucked into the air-conditioning system and turned to pixie confetti.

I half dozed, tucked in Zee’s warmth.

“As these might be our final moments alive, I have a confession. Now, I know this is going to come as a shock. Some things should probably stay private, but . . . I think I have a thing for Daddy Vampire.”

I deliberately didn’t react, even as my heart skipped. “What? Really? You don’t say?”

“At first, I thought it was you, because you want to dry hump his leg, but then I started wondering about what it would be like to be the focus of all that, and I wanted him to watch me dance—which he never fucking does, because he prefers furniture to sex. Whatever. It’s like he’s fucking immune or something. I swear I could walk through the bar naked and he wouldn’t even look up from that fucking cabinet.”

Victor would see Zee, but he’d never admit it.

“Just so you know, it’s pretty fucking messed up for a demon to want a vampire,” Zee went on. “It never happens. It’s like . . . like . . . wanting to fuck a frog. It’s fucking weird. And gross. I’m weird. I hate it. I hate him for making me want him, but I also really, really want to deep throat his dick. Am I fucked up?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.”

“His weird-ass family said they’d carve out his heart if he ever had relations with a demon. He’d have to be out of his ancient mind to wanna fuck me, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” I did know. “Maybe he’s open to new things.” He was definitely open. “He’s difficult to read sometimes.” All the time. “But I have a hunch he might be into you too.” It was more than a hunch.

“What if we both fucked Vampire Daddy? Or, what if he fucked us? Together? Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Adam, my sweet, innocent, sexually naïve kitten. Have you met me? With enough holes anything is possible.”

“I guess we’ll have to get out of here first.” I eyed the door. There was a way . . . I hadn’t used anything like my maximum available strength. The wards would probably knock me unconscious, and Zee would absolutely see a side of me neither of us was ready for . . . But if the fae didn’t kill us for body parts, the cold would finish us off.

“Okay.” I eased Zee’s wing open and shivered at the blast of cold. “Maybe I can try the door again? If the wards knock me out, catch me?”

“Always, Kitten.” He positioned himself behind me, wings spread, ready to take the hit.

If this worked, Zee would know I wasn’t anything near human. But we didn’t have a lot of options left. I approached the door, feeling the pressure. There was more at stake here than escaping—my whole life, my trust, and my friendship with a demon I cared for who didn’t really know me at all.

“Here goes . . .” I reached out, ready to pull all my available strength up from its hiding place.

The door lock clunked, and then cracked open without my having touched it.

“What the fuck?” Zee gasped.

“I didn’t do that.”

I shoved the door, and it swung open. The cold air from behind us misted and rolled around our legs in a bank of fog that washed across a warehouse floor. We definitely weren’t in the restaurant anymore. A dank, hot, wet-metal smell assaulted my nose and clogged my throat.

“What the fucking fuck?” Zee stopped at my side, looking down through the mist, and as it dissipated . . . I saw a leg . . . then another . . . an arm . . . a face. And a whole lot of blood. The more the mist cleared, the more it became clear, several fae had had a really bad day.

Little Jimmy fluttered on top of a nearby stack of boxes, holding a gleaming stiletto dagger.

“They are so dead.” Zee poked one of the dead fae with his shoe.

They really were extremely dead—from multiple stab wounds. I glanced back at Little Jimmy’s grinning face, and the bloody stiletto in his small hands. “I think I’ve figured out why Jimmy was in a tin.”