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“No, he does this sometimes. Old habits . . .” I opened the door and stepped out. A light drizzle misted the street. The club’s name usually glowed in neon above the front doors, but as it was early morning, its lights were off. All of the building’s windows and walls had been painted black. White silhouette adorned the windows, outlining a winged demon in various suggestive poses. The angular wings and looping tail were unmistakably Zee’s.

If Reynard didn’t know what this place was, it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.

“Adam?”

I poked my head back inside the car. “Yeah?”

“Would you like my assistance?”

There weren’t many demons around. Just one homeless looking one sat on the sidewalk, stroking a nearby cat. A street-sweeper machine hummed and bumped against the curb, sucking up broken glass and used condoms from the wild night before. At least demons practiced safe sex, I guess. There was nothing to suggest I’d be in any danger. “No, I think I got it.”

“Very well.” He sat back, and I closed the door.

It was also probably for the best Reynard didn’t follow me into a demon sex club. Neither of us was ready for those kinds of conversation.

Pulling my coat tighter around me, I stepped up to the painted black door and knocked.

“We’re closed,” a deep male voice grumbled from inside.

“I’m looking for Zodiac.”

“You and everyone else.” A little slot in the door opened and a pair of green gargoyle eyes dazzled. “You demon bait?”

“Uh . . . No, I don’t think so.”

The green eyes flicked from me and settled on the black car behind me. “Those wheels yours?”

“Not mine, no. It belongs to—never mind, I’m looking for Zee, have you seen him?”

“He don’t work here no more.”

“He does not work here anymore,” Reynard purred, sidling up beside me. I hadn’t even heard him leave the car.

“What the fuck are you, the grammar police?”

“Language, and its correct usage, opens many doors,” Reynard said, adding an overly charming smile.

“Not this one.” The gargoyle’s eyes narrowed on me. “The suit with you?”

I winced. Apparently, the suit was. I faced Reynard, briefly caught off guard by how the tiny specs of diamond drizzle sparkled on his smooth, dark hair. “I’ve got this.”

“Unfortunately, I suspect you do not have this. He’s not going to let you in.”

“Because we’re closed. Come back after ten p.m.” The slot in the door slammed closed.

I blinked at the door barring my way. I really needed to speak with Zee before diving into the meeting with Gideon Cain, or we’d have another event like a few nights ago, and he’d get hurt again.

Reynard checked his watch. “There is a time for diplomacy, and a time for gentle persuasion. May I assist you now?”

“Sure, have at it.” What was he going to do, bamboozle the doorman with correct sentence structure?

He stepped up to the door and knocked. The slot opened. Green eyes dazzled again, widening, then narrowing.

“Open the door,” Reynard said, voice flat.

I almost laughed. Simply telling the doorman we were coming inside wasn’t going to work.

The bolt rattled and the door opened. Just like that.