Page 17 of Your Final Resting Place

The little pixie shook his head.

This would have been a whole lot easier if he’d just talk, like I knew he was capable of. But he didn’t seem to want to with an audience. He pointed at the thumb Victor had pinched between his own finger and thumb, then at the warehouse.

“One of us is going to have to go in there,” Victor said. “Adam, you should stay here with Zodiac.”

“You can’t go, it’s warded.”

“What do you suggest we do? We can’t leave without our gremlins, and there’s clearly someone missing a thumb for reasons we don’t yet know. Plus, we have not secured the pendant.”

I showed Victor my hand, and the anti-ward signet ring on my index finger. “But I’ve got this.”

Victor set the severed thumb aside and leveled his gaze on me. “It makes more sense for me to wear the ring.”

“Fancy Daddy is right. He’s stronger, faster, and with that ring, their defenses won’t work on him.”

I preferred it when they didn’t get along. Rolling my eyes, I plucked off the ring and handed it over. “Zee should go with you in case there’s trouble.”

“Can’t.” Zee folded his arms. “Guarding you, Kitten.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me out here. Nobody is around. It’s the middle of the night. I’m fine. But if there are traps inside, you can help each other out. Splitting up is always a bad idea.”

“Which is why I ain’t leavin’ your side. Every time you get left behind, you get kidnapped, arrested, or some bad shit happens. Nah-uh. I’m stayin’ right here.”

I sighed. “Fine. But Jimmy, if Victor gets in trouble, you come right back and tell us.”

Little Jimmy saluted, and with Victor now wearing the ring, he opened the passenger door and hopped out.

“Fifteen minutes should be more than enough to assess the situation.” Victor hesitated, holding the door open.

“Alrighty, off you go, bye now,” Zee urged, scooting into the front of the van to take Victor’s empty seat. “Don’t die or anything. Adam will never get over it.”

“Of course,” Victor smiled, and blurred from sight.

Jimmy buzzed after him.

Zee closed the door, and wedged himself sideways on the seat so he could kick his boots up on the dashboard and wiggle into a comfy position. “Now it’s just you and me and some rando’s thumb under the stars.”

“I think Jimmy found a security guard or someone working the night shift.”

“And brutally murdered then ate them,” Zee said.

“Yeah, probably.” It seemed likely. And it wasn’t as though Little Jimmy hadn’t mass-murdered before.

“Shit happens.” Zee popped the glove compartment. “Ooh, Doritos.” He settled down again and munched on old Doritos. “We should do this more often.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“What did that Kenzo guy say? The Scooby gang? A bunch of gays who drive around solving crimes. That’s us.” He waved a Dorito around, then popped it in his mouth.

“Yeah . . . except we’re kinda doing the crimes right now.”

“The Scooby people do that too,” Zee said, as though it were obvious. “How else they gonna pay for gas?”

He had a point. “I looked them up. Their van is called the Mystery Machine.”

“Pfft, Love Wagon is better.” Zee stopped chewing. “Oh fuck, wait. Would ours be the Murder Machine?”

“We don’t murder that many people. Do we?”