Page 40 of No Rest for the Wicked

“Yeah. I know.” He fluttered his wings and made his eyebrows jump. “But is it, though? Because you’re big, right? When you’re not . . . you.” He waved his arms to encompass my body. “So, your dick must be fucking enormous.”

“Oh my stars! Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Have you seen a horse’s dick?” he asked.

“Uh. No? Have you?” Wait, no, I didn’t want to know—too late.

“Have I! They’re big. And we’re not talking freakishly big horses, even just normal horses have huge dicks—I know this because of centaurs, before you ask how I’ve become acquainted with horse dicks—and you said you’re way bigger than a horse, or a house, so . . .”

A freeing shiver passed through me, signaling we’d entered the outer edge of the hotel’s wards, and with the hotel just a little ways up ahead, I pulled him to a stop and slammed a kiss on his mouth—the only way to silence him.

His strong arms looped around me, crushing me close, and the kiss consumed us both, chasing away every worry and doubt.

Zee pulled back, and bumped his nose with mine. “You smell like dead vampire and burn barrels, but you’re so fucking cute.”

He smelled like home. Like sanctuary. Like freedom. Like Zee.

The hotel doors burst open. Madame Matase hurried down the steps and called, “Adam, Zodiac, quickly, to the bar! It’s an emergency!”

Something was off with her tone, but Zee had hold of my arm, and dragged me up the steps, across the porch, and through the door. Why wasn’t there anyone in the lobby? Where had the guests gone? This didn’t feel right. I searched behind us for Madame Matase, but she hadn’t followed us inside.

“Zee, wait⁠—”

“If it’s Seb, imma shove my dancing pole up his ass, and—” He exploded through the bar doors.

“SURPRISE!” Streamers rained, balloons bounced, poppers popped, and the staff and the guests’ beaming faces peered at us both.

Zee sprang into his battle pose, crouched, with his nails spread and sharp teeth bared. I almost leaped out of my human bones, and if I hadn’t been cursed I probably would have shifted skins on the spot.

Among the celebratory chaos, Victor stood with his arms crossed. Confetti had collected in his black hair, and the world’s smallest hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

He had done this.

Correction. From the unmistakably mischievous glimmer in Tom Collins’s eyes, they had done this.

The streamers settled, the balloons stopped bouncing, and everyone waited for Zee’s reaction.

He straightened. Shook off the battle readiness and paper streamers from around his horns. “Wait. Is this . . . This is for me?”

Victor stepped forward. He had one sleeve rolled down, while the other remained wedged behind his elbow. Glitter twinkled on his shirt. He looked as though he’d been assaulted by a party animal. It couldn’t have been easy to get all this ready, and then to have everyone wait around for us.

“Shall we try again?” Victor said. “Happy birthday, Zodiac.”

Unbridled joy bloomed across Zee’s face. He marched the three steps to Victor, who tensed, eyes widening as though Zee was about to take a swing at him, but the wards didn’t activate. Probably because Zee grasped Victor’s face and slammed a kiss on his mouth. And it wasn’t a friendly, chaste kiss either. Zee attacked with all the fervor of a professional incubus.

Victor froze, but his hang-ups only lasted a heartbeat, before he clutched at Zee’s arms and definitely began kissing Zee back.

Seconds ticked by . . .

The kiss went on . . .

Zee’s tail flicked. Victor rocked with the motion of their embrace.

Erm. Maybe they should get a room?

I shouldn’t watch, but also couldn’t look away. Zee and Victor, tongue-wrestling, hand-grabbing. There was even some hip action going on. Mercy, they were spicy hot.

Tom rang a bell, jolting the crowd and me back to reality. “Drinks are on hotel management!”