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Zee puffed and sat back in his seat. “We’re just going straight to torture, huh?”

I glanced at Reynard.

“Admittedly, I was not expecting to begin there,” he said.

“You’re great at torture,” I told him.

“Indeed. It is a hobby of mine.”

Zee rolled his eyes. “Okay, violence is always fun, but you both need to calm the fuck down. I know Kris⁠—”

“And how are you acquainted with the fae?” Reynard asked. “Was it by the hour, perchance?”

Zee shifted forward, rested an elbow on the table, and pointed a glittery nail at Reynard. “Excuse me, but you can discover a whole lot about a person while sucking his cock. Which you won’t know, since you’ve never sucked dick in your long, ancient, boring life.”

An irritated growl rumbled from Reynard. “This task will require subtlety and finesse. I doubt your limited range of talents will be required.”

“I can do subtle.” Zee flopped back in the chair again. “How hard can it be?”

He sat there, with all his demon magnificence spilling over the chair—from his wings, his horns, his long, emotive tail, to his glittery nails and purple eyes.

Zee was many, many wonderful things. But subtle wasn’t one of them.

“What?” he said, after several moments of awkward silence.

Offending Zee by telling him he wasn’t perfect at being subtle was not going to help our current situation. “I think we should perhaps play to our strengths?” I suggested.

“Agreed,” Reynard said quickly. “As my financial status is well known, we can use my reputation to set up a meeting with the syndicate’s head of distribution and catch them in the act of trading.”

Zee laughed aloud. “Money-pants Daddy Vampire suddenly wants to buy fae beauty potions? Like that’s not sus at all? The fae are pretty, but they ain’t stupid.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Reynard asked, his tone increasingly clipped.

“Yeah, like I said, we go to Kris, ask who gave the order to throw us in the deep freezer, then go to that asshole, and torture them. Voila. Nobody has to go to jail or have their wings cut off.”

“Kris, who tranquilized you both and locked you in a deep freezer?” Reynard queried. “And you believe he’s just going to tell you the inner workings of the syndicate because you once had your mouth wrapped around his penis?”

Zee’s mouth worked—lips rolling out, then pinching in. “Hmhm,” he said, lips firmly pursed to hold back his laugh. “Actually, Fancy Daddy.” He coughed, cleared his throat, and held three fingers up. “I had my mouth around his dick three times. Seb was running a buy-two-get-one-free promo. But I stuck my finger up his ass for free.”

Reynard sighed, and closed his eyes. “These are the times I lament Tom Collins’s absence.”

“I’ll stick my finger up your ass for free too, daddy,” Zee said, fluttering his lashes. Which Reynard couldn’t see, now he’d buried his face in his hands.

Zee was baiting him, but Reynard clearly wasn’t in the mood to humor him, and we did have more pressing matters. “Zee, maybe⁠—”

Reynard abruptly stood, strode behind the bar, and after shoving up his sleeves, he clattered around the drinks.

“I’ll take a whiskey,” I called. Then added, “Make it a double.”

Zee leaned closer and whispered, “You think the finger was too much?”

I glanced over at the bar as Reynard rattled the cocktail mixers and glasses. Knowing what I did about Reynard’s complicated feelings, he probably hadn’t minded the finger as much as Zee thought. It was more likely Reynard had liked the comment, causing him to pull away.

“Do not answer that, Adam,” Reynard said, sloshing whiskey into a glass.

I winced, and slid my gaze to Zee, whose pupils had widened. “He has really good hearing.”

With Zee silenced, we waited until Reynard returned to the table with a trio of drinks. “I do not know what I’ve made, as I’m clearly not a trained bartender, but I am in need of sustenance that will take the edge off my concern for both of your futures. So, drink it or don’t.”