Page 65 of Great Service from Top to Bottom

Zee threw back his cocktail in one, which was asking for trouble. I sipped my whiskey, enjoying its warmth. It was the same whiskey I always had, from the same bottle Reynard had used, but Tom had a way of making it special. It was probably best not to ask how.

Zee’s wings flared, and his tail did a little shiver. “Fuck,” he wheezed. “My flabber has been ghasted.”

“Too much?” Tom asked, leaning on the bar, his expression teasing.

“Fuck. No.” Zee waggled the glass. “Fuck me up, monsieur Collins. I can take it.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Zee and Tom continued to create a drink that I thought would be too potent for Zee, but after twenty minutes, he’d consumed everything Tom had made for him and was still upright—although he was beginning to slump on his elbows and slur some.

More guests had ventured back into the bar now word had spread that our salty, straight-talking barman was back and happy to insult anyone who overpaid for their drinks. With Tom back, we might actually be able to go back to normal—as normal as things got under this tired roof.

I spotted Reynard enter through the bar doors. He’d gathered his messy hair into a damp ponytail, making his face even more severe than usual. Black suspenders restrained a blood-red shirt, and his black pants had been pressed into razor thin edges. He had the look of a man on a mission, and after just a few steps his gaze found me, fixing me to the stool. Despite the warmth, a shiver ran down my spine. The good kind. He nodded once, and left.

“Hey, Zee, don’t go too crazy, okay? I need you to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Zee waved me off. “I am a pro at this,” is what I think he said, but the words had slurred out of him in one long garbled mess.

Rolling my eyes, I caught Tom’s gaze. “Just don’t kill him.”

“Such little faith in me, Adam,” Tom said, gleefully mixing a new multicolored potion that gave off a little purple puff of smoke. He winked.

Yup, he was definitely back.

“And don’t touch the internet.” No internet, meant no syndicate trying to steal our Tom again. “No new bow ties.”

“There’s no chance of that,” Tom agreed. He’d had enough of an adventure for now.

Taking my whiskey with me out of the bar, I met Reynard in the foyer beside one of the waiting area side tables. “It is good to see Tom Collins is back to his usual self,” he said.

“It is, yeah. I think he’s going to be alright. What do you know about djinn?”

“Djinn?” Reynard considered it and glanced toward the bar door. “An interesting theory, and worthy of further investigation. In the meantime, will you join me in my room, Adam, to discuss other matters?”

“That depends. I don’t know if I’m ready to talk just yet. It’s been a long night.”

He nodded, his face curated into its perfectly blank expression, like the smooth, mirrored surface of a deep, fathomless lake full of secrets. “Then tomorrow, perhaps, prior to commencing your working day?”

“You knew the syndicate boss we were going to meet and didn’t tell me.” Apparently I was ready to talk, since that had just blurted right out. But the foyer was not the place to discuss everything. If I went up to his room, tired and frayed like I was, I’d say something I’d later regret. Regrets were something I already had too many of.

“The reason why I didn’t tell you remains the same. The risk was too great, Adam.”

No, that wasn’t enough. There was a whole lot more he wasn’t saying, and it was time to be straight with us. “If you want to be a part of this team, you need to start being honest.”

“As you are being honest about what you are?” His face wasn’t so stoic now. More irritated, and perhaps frustrated.

I pinched my lips together, swallowing the urge to deny everything. Claiming I was human didn’t appear to be working on Reynard anymore.

“Don’t you think the time has come to trust us, Adam? If not me, then surely Zodiac deserves your truth?”

The time to tell them both was approaching, and far sooner than I’d have liked. But not yet. Shifting closer to the wall, so nobody could listen in, I switched topics in a whisper. “What about Reynard Technologies, huh? What’s really going on there, Victor?”

“You will have to be more specific.”

“I saw it, when I was there . . . I saw what you’re doing. I didn’t think it mattered—that you can’t know everything that goes on in that building—but after you kept your friendship with Agatha from me, I don’t know anymore. What else are you hiding? Zee doesn’t trust you. I’ve tried to, but you don’t make it easy⁠—”

“Adam, this is not the place.” His frown darkened. “Join me in my room.”