Page 36 of Great Service from Top to Bottom

“You’re not suggesting we have to bring down the entire fae syndicate?” Reynard asked, a stickler for details. “Just the black market goods operation?”

“That is correct.”

“Your thoughts, Adam?” Reynard deferred to me. “I’ll have Pierce write up a contract. While I’m sure Agent Leomaris is to be trusted, a contract will ensure you and Zodiac are protected.”

“What will that cost you?”

He slow blinked. “Nothing substantial.”

I glanced at Zee to my left. “What do you think?”

“I think you don’t go to jail, I don’t get dropped in the desert without my wings, and I get a new hat. Win-fucking-win.”

“But you don’t get a hat.”

Zee screwed up his nose. “They can’t stop me from getting my own hat.”

“Okay, but what about the deal? Do we take it?”

“We’re already in the middle of this bullshit, might as well do some good shit while we’re there. Right? Also, what choice do we have? Do it, or get fucked. With or without a hat.”

He was right. We didn’t have a choice. “Alright,” I told Leomaris. “We’ll work for you.”

The SSD agent smiled. “A wise move, Mr. Vex.”

I hoped so. Because I really did not like the way Leomaris eyed me, as though I was their next bounty and they were about to bring me in.

CHAPTER 10

The jukebox played a tinkling tune in the background, so the empty bar wasn’t as quiet as a tomb. I settled at one of the tables, Reynard joined me, and Zee fussed with the motionless Tom Collins, trying to fix a brightly colored paper hat to his head. Our actual Tom Collins would have hated it, but Zee insisted he wore the party hat before we began.

“There,” he said, flopping into the chair to my left. Clearly more comfortable now, out of the inmate jumpsuit, and in his new outfit of tight pants and typical sassy top that read: Sexy Boys Doing Sexy Things. “Now Tom’s less depressing.”

“Hm, yes,” Reynard said, without looking.

Zee folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Do you want a party hat, Your fucking Lordship?”

Reynard’s thin lips got thinner as he hmphed. “We should focus on the matter at hand—namely, upholding our end of the deal we struck with Agent Leomaris—and less on hats.”

Zee shrugged. “I’ll get you a hat, if you want one.”

“Please don’t.”

“What’s your favorite color? Is it black? No wait. It’s dishwater grey, isn’t it.”

“It is, in fact, red.”

Zee’s eyebrows shot up. “Red. Fuck. Going straight for the jugular, huh? You’re such a fucking cliché.”

“Adam?” Reynard enquired, turning his face toward me. His left eyebrow ticked, in what I suspected might be a silent request for help.

“Right. Yes.” I shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable. We’d been out of jail for less than an hour, but we’d been gone from the hotel for two days, and several management issues had simmered to the surface among a whole array of problems that just kept mounting.

“Okay.” I huffed and leaned forward, trying to clear my head and figure out where to even begin in bringing down the syndicate’s black market trade in body parts. “We should kidnap Kris and torture him until he tells us everything we want to know about the trade, and also why the fae wanted me to buy that particular Tom Collins unit.” There, that seemed like a reasonable and fair plan.

Zee and Reynard blinked.

Had I said something wrong? “What?”