Page 7 of No Rest for the Wicked

“I don’t think so.”

“If someone gave me a frog, I’d be so fucking sure they despised me. I was so fucked up. Tom Collins does not hold back. That man . . . AI . . . djinn . . . whatever . . . is fucking brutal. Whatever drink he made, I could see into my own eyeballs. It was fucking insane.”

“No Zee, it wasn’t the frog. He kinda liked the frog. I think it might have been . . . me.”

“No way. There’s nothing you could have done that would drive Fancy Daddy away. He’s so into you. The only person more into you is me. It was the frog. Frogs are nasty.”

“What if I’m why he left, Zee?” I asked in small voice. It’s for the best, he’d said, and he’d left me a paper rose. My heart flopped, and a whole lot of sad settled over me like a thick, heavy blanket.

“That doesn’t make any sense. If he cares about you, as he claims, then he knows leaving will hurt you, making him an epic dick. And if he’s an epic dick who hurts you, imma fuck him up.”

“Sometimes the things that hurt the most are . . .” I swallowed. “For the best.”

“No, nope . . . nuh-uh. If it hurts, you just gotta add more lube.”

“Uhm . . . okay, but how does that apply to us?”

“Communication, baby, is the lube.” Zee huffed. “He’s so fucking old, you’d think he’d know how to talk shit out like an adult.”

“I don’t think vampires are into talking about feelings.”

“Yet another reason why demons are the best. Let’s count the ways we’re awesome.” Zee grabbed my hand and bent one finger up. “Demons are better because, one, we talk about shit.” He bent my second finger up. The heavy weight began to lift and I fought a grin. “Two, we’re not stuck up our own asses.” I put the next finger up. “Three, have you seen me? Obviously superior in every fucking way.” I spread four fingers now. “Four, vampires suck.” Hm, that didn’t really make much sense. I poked my thumb out. “Five, you don’t need him.”

“I’m not sure your Demons are the Best list works.”

“Yes it does.” He huffed and sat back, crossing his arms. “Victor leaving just proves he doesn’t deserve you.”

Would Zee think the same if he knew why Reynard had left? I glanced at the driver, separated from the back by privacy glass. He wouldn’t hear our conversation. Zee prattled on about trust and Reynard always being shady. Zee had never demanded I tell him my secrets, but Reynard was right in that he did deserve to know. And if Reynard was at his building, then we were all going to talk about things, so Zee needed to be on the same page of my story as Victor.

“Zee, so . . . I need to tell you something.”

“Okay. But is this the thing you were going to tell me before we got kidnapped from Karaoke Kris’s restaurant?”

“Uhm, no, not really. That was . . . That was me telling you how much you mean to me. And you do. Mean a lot, I mean. But that’s not what I’m about to say⁠—”

“How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do I mean to you? On a level of one being a gremlin, and ten being mac and cheese. How much do I mean to you?”

“I like mac and cheese, I guess, but not like you like it.”

“Wait, what?” He blinked and recoiled.

“It’s nice.”

“Nice? How can you not like mac and cheese?”

“That’s not what I said. I said I don’t like it as much as you do, that’s all, so it doesn’t work as a number ten. But I still like it.”

“Where is mac and cheese on your Best Ever list, then?”

“Oh, I don’t know, around eight maybe?” I played along.

“Eight?!” He slumped back. “Imma have to rethink this relationship.”

Why were we talking about mac and cheese, and how had that even happened? A little chuckle fell out of me. “You know you’re my ten, Zee.”