Page 30 of No Rest for the Wicked

A cool evening breeze whisked up some dried leaves, making them dance around us. It was time to get going, but I was enjoying just sitting and being with him too much to end it. “I think, maybe, your reaction to him giving you the cake was the final blow, not so much the carnage after.”

“Moi?” Zee recoiled. “What the fuck did I do?”

“Well, you kinda accused him of attempting to poison you.”

Zee nodded. “A legitimate concern. He is a vampire. I am a demon. We are mortal enemies. Vampires don’t buy demons cake unless it’s poisoned. Why are you looking at me like I’m the bad guy here?”

“Well, anyway, he’s bowed out and said we can take the car, while he still has use of it.”

Zee huffed, and fluttered his wings, doing that thing he did where he got all uppity because he knew he was in the wrong. “What is this sinking feeling in my chest? Because I know it cannot be guilt. It’s not my fault he let Gideon Cain and Princess Buffy yank his company out from under him, or that a pixie tried to kill him and then destroyed his cake. Those are his poor life choices.”

“Maybe he’s sad because he felt rejected? You could have thanked him properly?”

He rolled his head in one of those eye rolls that went all the way from his horns down to his heels. “Ugh.” A thought occurred to him, one that stopped all other thoughts. “Wait. With a finger up the ass? That kind of thank you?”

“Probably more of a genuine thank you, instead of whatever that weird handshake was back there. I’m not sure he’s in the mood for anything more intimate.”

“And that’s where he’s going wrong. You know what he should do? Get fucking wasted. Now that, I’d pay to see. Do you think he’s a happy drunk or a grumpy drunk?”

“Can vampires get drunk?” One of Reynard’s vampire sedans turned into the street and pulled up against the curb. I pushed to my feet. We had a lot to do, and not a lot of daylight left to do it in.

“I’ve no idea. Probably not. I bet he’s a miserable drunk.”

“He’s only grumpy around you, which is so weird. Right?”

“Adam Vex, are you throwing shade my way? How could all this make anyone grumpy?” He swept his hands down himself as we ambled toward the car. “I am a fucking ray of sunshine.”

“He’s allergic to sunlight.”

“Oh. Fuck. I forgot.”

We climbed into Reynard’s car and headed off to the part of town Zee gave directions to. On the way, we bounced around some theories regarding what a pixie might want, that ranged from cake—turns out they do like sweet treats—to more friends, which seemed a stretch, as we already knew Jimmy had a taste for mass murder.

The sun was low in the sky when Reynard’s driver pulled the sleek black car to a stop under a section of raised highway. It was already dark in the shadows. Flames danced from a few burn barrels, like ancient beacons lighting the way into some kind of shanty town.

“Is this right?” I asked Zee.

“Yeah,” he replied grimly, then opened the car door and hopped out. “Maybe just drive round and come get us in twenty minutes,” Zee told the driver, sending Reynard’s flashy car away. “Nobody here will talk to us if they see we’ve got vampire bling.”

We walked between raised highway pillars, and a chill trickled through my bones. I hadn’t brought a jacket, but the cold seemed to go deeper, as though sinking under my skin.

Rows of makeshift huts had been nailed together with discarded timber pallets, sheeting, and whatever else these Lost Ones had found. Several gargoyles hunched around the burn barrels. Demons too. They gave us the side-eye as we walked by.

Not every Lost One had been lucky enough to find a purpose, or a home, when the veil tore. Those that hadn’t, ended up in ghettos like these.

“Junk Jim lives here?” I asked.

“This is the address Kris passed on.”

“Kris also shot you.” We walked on some more, past a young demon spit-roasting something that resembled a large rat—or maybe a gremlin. “What if it’s a setup? We’ve had a few of those. And he really doesn’t like you since you made him go viral.”

“I doubt he’d risk it, but if it is, I’ll be ready.” Zee’s bubbling tone had deepened into Lycian, Scourge of Demios mode. I wasn’t the only one feeling vulnerable.

The shanty town narrowed, funneling us toward a makeshift plaza. Zee shrugged his wings away, reducing his size and obviousness. The sun must have set, because the underpass had gotten real dark. Burn barrels cast dancing shadows on the shacks, and made the graffiti on the concrete pillars flicker, as though alive.

Jeering voices and cheers rose up from a section off to the right, coming from inside a crumbling, abandoned building. Zee nodded for us to take a look, and we made our way toward the sounds. Passing through a half-crumbled doorway brought us into a room with no roof, packed full of Lost Ones, and when I managed to get a look around broad shoulders and taller Lost Ones, I could see some kind of roped-off space.

“Want me to put you on my shoulders?” Zee grinned.