Page 34 of Your Final Resting Place

The final battle wasn’t going to wait for us to figure it out. It was coming, whether we were ready or not.

CHAPTER 11

The vampire lawyer, Pierce, arrived on the hotel steps right after sunup, standing under an umbrella and with a full contingent of vampire bodyguards, also under umbrellas.

He handed me a sealed letter and left.

It was all very dramatic for eight a.m. I hadn’t even had my morning whiskey yet, and after just a few hours of exhaustion-fueled sleep tucked between Victor and Zee, I already felt hungover without the aid of alcohol.

The contents of the letter did nothing for my mood. I handed it to Victor, who frowned and said simply, “Unfortunate.”

Were the vampires going to mount a huge battle? Were they going to send in their warriors to fight us to our dying breaths?

No, they were suing us.

“We can’t afford a lawyer.”

Zee, dressed in an oversized T-shirt that read Daddy’s Little Bitch on it, snatched the letter from Victor’s hand. “Personal injury? Damage to property? Ugh, vampires are so fucking dull. What kind of grand finale is this bullshit?” He tore up the letter and tossed the pieces in the trash behind the reception desk. “Daisy can sue my ass.”

“Your ass is also on the list,” Victor said.

Zee paced. His heels clipped the floor, his wings bounced, and his tail lashed. “I vote we go over to Vampire Mansion and fuck ’em up. I have Shareen. Murder Daddy has stealth and can snap necks like twigs. Adam, you’re . . .” He paused, pointing. “Staying here.”

“Admirable enthusiasm, but I doubt you or I can stand against several hundred well-trained vampires in their own territory.”

Victor had a point. “Then we should invite Daisy here,” I said.

Zee stopped pacing, cocked a hip, and folded his arms. “You’re kidding, right? You think Buffy’s gonna come?”

“We’ll make the invitation public. Invite her over as a show of friendship. She won’t want to be seen as afraid, so she’ll come.”

“Then what? Chop her up and put her in pies? Have Jimmy pluck out her eyeballs—wait, I got this! I stake her through the heart during an improvised stage show about demons killing vampires? Wooden stakes work, right?”

Victor blinked. “No. How do you not know this when among vampires, Lycian, Scourge of Demios, is one of the most feared and revered demon warriors of all time?”

Zee fluttered a hand. “Sssh. Your breathing is interrupting my braining.”

“I mean . . . I’m not saying we should do this . . . but Tom can make some real interesting cocktails.” I put that out there, for the sake of having options.

They both stared in silence.

I shrugged. “Just a thought. I have them. Sometimes.”

Zee checked Victor to get a feel for the mood in the room. “Tom does make potent cocktails.”

“That he does,” Victor agreed.

“What’s the point in having a djinn bartender if you don’t let him stretch his djinn bits every now and then,” Zee added. “It’s only fair.”

I nodded enthusiastically.

Victor side-eyed me. “It could work.”

“And it will cheer Tom up.” I figured Tom had been desperate to murder someone since he’d learned he’d been lied to, had his memory wiped and been trapped behind our bar, working for three people he didn’t believe would amount to much. Our failed attempt to infiltrate Gideon’s mansion hadn’t helped.

“I’ll go talk to him. Victor, why don’t you find Noreen, and see if we can get the news out that we’re welcoming all Lost Ones, especially newly crowned vampire queens. Zee . . .” His wings perked up. “I really need you checking in on our guests⁠—”

“I’ve got this!” He immediately poofed away, and a moment later, a scream sounded from somewhere on the upper floors. Yup, he’d translocated straight into a guest’s room.