Page 68 of Great Service from Top to Bottom

“Ah-ha!” Zee held up a tiny frog ornament. “This, Your Royal Fuckness, is for you. Is warm because was in my pocket. By my balls.”

Reynard frowned.

“Fuckshake.” Zee grabbed his hand and dropped the frog into his palm. “A flog . . . A gog . . . fwgog . . . A fucking fog-frog. I hate fogs and I do not mush like you. Ha. I’m fucking hilar-eh-lush.”

Reynard’s frown scrunched into a help expression. “Adam, some assistance?”

“Although, Daddy Vampire.” Zee finger-walked up Reynard’s chest. “Is so fucking hot.”

Oh dear. If he said something he’d regret, it would be my fault for not stopping him sooner.

“Stick your penis up my ass and hammer me like a cheap whore,” Zee snorted.

Oh-kay, the regret ship had sailed. “Hey, Zee, uhm, maybe we should go to your room?”

“Yes!” He cheered. “All of us. Right now. For sex.”

“Uh . . .” This was awkward. I glanced at Reynard and cringed.

“Not in his current state,” Reynard said, appalled. But was the whole idea appalling, or just Zee’s situation?

“Naw, dawg, don’t like currants.” Zee flopped backwards onto Reynard’s bed. “Like frog eyes.” He told the ceiling. “I’m so fucked. But thishish the best. Mac and cheese is the best. Daddy Vampire’s bed ish the best.” He stroked the sheet. “Adam is the besht. I’m the besst. Reynard ish . . . okay? Climb on. Let’s fuckin’ go.”

Reynard folded his arms and peered down at the enormous demon sprawled on his bed. A few seconds later, Zee’s breathing deepened into soft puffs. On his back, he’d start snoring soon.

“Uh, Victor, I’m . . . sorry?” I inched closer, and yup, he was definitely asleep. There was no way we were moving him, not without a whole lot of chaos. “I’m going to have to have a word with Tom Collins again.” I knew Zee could hold his drink. Tom really must have done his worst.

“There’s an exceedingly intoxicated demon unconscious on my bed, Adam.”

I tried to read Reynard’s face, but in profile, while he glared at Zee, it was really hard to know if he was alarmed, surprised, disgusted, or bored. “Yeah, but he bought you a frog, so it’s not all bad.”

“He also compared me to a frog.” Reynard’s face . . . softened?

“Isn’t the gift part what matters?” Wait, didn’t vampires gift each other dead bodies? “I mean, it’s not a corpse, so I can see how you might . . .” Would a dead frog have been a better gift? I trailed off under the weight of his stoic silence. “He looks cute though, right?” Especially in his Stop Staring at My Cock shirt, and hugging a whiskey bottle.

“He’s in my bed.”

“He’s more on it than in it?” Did that help?

A soft rumbling came from Reynard—the most alarming sound I’d ever heard him make. I stared, and the sound got deeper.

“This is my life now?” He sobbed, or choked, or maybe laughed?

Soft, deep rumbling noises vibrated out of him, like the tumble of melted chocolate. Definitely laughter. Wow. Okay. I chuckled.

“There’s a demon in my bed, Adam!” He laughed harder, then grasped the bedpost to hold himself up. “I don’t know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is, but I know there’s an incubus in my bed!”

I giggle-snorted. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

His face kind of contorted, lips turning down. Wait. Were we still laughing or was he having some kind of emotional seizure?

“I am clearly insane.” He wiped his eyes. “But that’s entirely acceptable, here in this remarkable hotel.” His laughter slowed to a trickling hiccup. Clearing his throat, he vanished it altogether—and just like that, it was over.

He crossed the room, grabbed a blanket from the closet, and draped it over Zee. “Please refrain from commenting, Adam.”

Okay. I zipped my chortling behind my lips. We were back to his stern, authoritative voice.

But Reynard had laughed, and Zee missed it. I couldn’t wait to tell him. “Shall we leave him to sleep it off?” I suggested.