Page 52 of No Rest for the Wicked

Zee’s interest piqued. “How long exactly? For science.”

Oh-kay, he wasn’t asking for science. “Zee, I know it’s hard for you, but can you stop thinking about dicks until we’re safe?”

Zee recoiled, as though offended, but his smile said otherwise. “Who, me?”

“How do you have sex on your mind during a crisis?” Victor asked.

“Baby.” Zee’s eyebrows jumped. “I’m always on.”

If we got out of this building alive, it would be a miracle.

“Ready?” I clutched the door handle.

“Born ready,” Zee echoed.

Victor tensed. “I am prepared.” As soon as I opened the door, he blurred out. A few moments later, the clash of metal and crash of glass sounded, out of sight down another corridor, and then gunfire. I glanced at Zee. “Should we go with him?”

“Pfft. They’re his murder mutts. Let’s go.”

Dim red lighting flickered and buzzed. A red arrow at the end of the hall clearly pointed the way toward the fire exit. Zee vanished his wings to keep himself smaller and more agile. We hurried along, trying to stay quiet.

The arrows led us left then right, down a maze of strobe-lit corridors.

We rounded a corner and in front of a grated steel barrier, stood one of the robot dogs.

We both froze.

The dog stared. Although, without any actual eyes, just a black snout, it was difficult to know if it was even activated.

“Do the pets get weird around you thing,” Zee whispered. “Make it sad.”

“I don’t think it works on machines,” I whispered back.

“Alright.” He wet his lips. “I’ll distract it. You get behind it and get your murder on.”

“Okay.”

Zee straightened, rolled his shoulders, and popped his wings out. “Hey Fido. I knew another Fido once. You do not look alike, although I reckon you’re probably nicer than he was. Do ya like pies too?”

The dog’s head tilted. Somewhere in its electronic brain it was definitely assessing how much of a threat Zee was. We weren’t armed, which was probably why it hadn’t opened fire. Yet. But if it was anything like the other one we’d encountered, it soon would.

Zee wandered closer. The dog shuffled on metallic feet, keeping him firmly in its sights.

“You like walkies? Yeah, me too. Fresh air, stretch your wings—legs.” Zee flared his left wing, and the dog looked toward it, turning away from me.

I shuffled to the right, hoping to circle around and then maybe jump on its back before the gun poked out.

Zee jiggled his wing. “Yeah, that’s right, look at all my pretty.”

I tried another step, but the dog’s head swiveled back toward me. I must have triggered its sensors. Maybe. Where was Victor? We could have done with his vampire speed⁠—

Its gun popped out of the hatch on its back.

“Uh-oh.”

“Fuck no. You look at me, not Adam.” Zee flapped both wings. “Over here, Fido!” He poofed a stride to his left, raining sparks, making himself big and intimidating. The dog spun toward him. The gun whirred.

“Now!” Zee yelled.