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“If you ever want a job, you can come sell stuff for me,” Jim called out.

“Thanks,” I called back.

“Did you just make friends with the shady fae who sold you a murderbot?”

“I don’t know if we’re friends exactly, but he seems nice. Do you think this syndicate planted Tom Collins with us for a reason? Maybe as a . . . spy?”

Zee snorted. “A spy for what? How to make a Bloody Bitch and get the tea on the hotel drama? Nah, we aren’t that interesting.”

Maybe most people at the hotel weren’t, but I may have said a few things to Tom, late at night, while sipping whiskey. “No, that would be silly.” I hadn’t exactly told Tom my secrets, just poked around the edges a bit. But what if these syndicate people had known about me? What if they’d put Tom Collins in our hotel because of me? But how could they know? My human disguise was foolproof. I needed to find out exactly why they’d wanted to spy on us.

“Who are the syndicate?” I asked Zee, as we left the street market and waited for Reynard’s driver to arrive.

“Badass fae who think they’re the shit.”

“Are they?” I asked, and caught Zee’s eye. “The shit?”

“Yeah,” he said, with a shrug. “But don’t worry, Kitten. For General Vex and Lycian, Scourge of Demios?” He buffed his nails on his shirt. “It’ll be a fucking walk in the park.”

CHAPTER 7

Zee gave me a quick rundown of the syndicate while Reynard’s driver took us to East SoMa, where old San Franciscan buildings butted up against new developments. This was where we’d find them, according to Zee. He explained how some of Razorsedge’s staff sometimes did escort work on the side. Where there’s sex, there’s cash, and drugs, and crime—all things the exclusively fae syndicate had their fingers in.

Broken AI bartenders seemed an odd choice for organized crime, but if there was money in it, then so were the syndicate, or so Zee claimed.

The car dropped us outside a small but pretty street-food restaurant that had tables outside and was dotted with potted palms. The sign on the door said open, but we were its only customers.

The waitress, a dainty fae with big blue eyes, approached. “Hey there, table for two?”

“Hey, is Kris in?” Zee asked. “Tell him it’s Zodiac.” Kris was an old contact, Zee had told me on the way over. He’d be able to tell us more about the syndicate.

“Sure.” The waitress appeared less enthusiastic now she wouldn’t be getting a serving tip, and left out the back door.

“How well do you know Kris?”

“Oh, you know.” Zee winked.

The waitress returned and said Kris was out but he’d be back soon, and offered us a table to sit at. “Hey, d’yah wanna eat to kill time?”

“Oh, erm. Sure?” It was after lunch, but the sun was shining outside, and the restaurant did seem nice, even if weirdly vacant.

We sat and ordered, and received our drinks. San Francisco Bay radio played in the background. Chatter from passersby came and went through the open door. Our food arrived—chicken noodles with sides of rice, salad, and fries. The sun blazing through the window warmed my back, and for the first time in a long time, the weight of responsibility . . . and the hotel . . . and prophesies lifted off my back.

“Kitten, this is nice, right? You and me. Food. Wine. Normal nice.”

“It is normal nice. Almost like a date.”

Zee stopped chewing. His grin paled before flaring back, brighter than ever. “Fuck, you’re right. I’ve never been on a date. I usually skip the romance part and go straight to fucking. So this is what a romantic date with my human is like.” His grin grew, and softened too, turning into one of his rare, true smiles. “The market, and now this. What a great fucking day.”

My heart warmed to see him happy. Some days, I wondered what the point of it all was. Why try and survive, when I had nothing to survive for, just chaos and terror and fate hunting me down? But then these little moments happened. The quiet, soft moments, when everything felt normal and right and safe. The moments when I could stop and marvel at the brilliant purple of Zee’s eyes, at the way his grin encompassed his entire face, not just his dancing mouth. Or how the sun shone through the windows, warming my arm. How the food in my belly meant I didn’t have to forage or scrounge for scraps. These little, normal moments were in many ways more important than the grand, life changing, monumental events. I was alive, and sharing lunch with my best demon. I had a safe place to call home. Maybe, it was finally time to relax?

And perhaps tell Zee my true feelings for him?

Zee scooped up his wine, nails flashing, and caught me watching him. Whatever he saw on my face, it cooled his smile. “You’re so fucking adorable,” he admitted. “Ugh, I can’t fucking do this. Your cute face is killing me.” He heaved a great breath, and said, “I fucked up and we can’t ever have sex again. There. I said it.”

My happy thoughts screeched to a stop—then fell off a cliff. “Huh?”

“Look, we all know I’m perfect. I have exquisite control. I am the master of edging. I can make a man come, or not, and play desires like musical fucking instruments. Let’s just make that clear so we’re all on the same page in the Zodiac is Awesome book.”