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“We’re good, thanks.” I sat on one of the tree stumps while Jim poked at his fire, teasing out the flames. “How’s business?”
“Oh you know, good days, bad days. Did you find the answers you wanted about those AI bartenders?”
“Yeah, some. Sort of.”
“Wanna buy this plant home?” Jim asked, scooping up an old leather boot beside him.
“Uh, no? I think I’m okay for, erm, plant homes.” I chatted with Jim for a while. Zee seemed content to stay quiet and scan the gloom where the firelight didn’t reach.
“You didn’t come here to chat, so what can I do you for, Adam?” Jim asked.
“When I sold those items from your stall, I uh . . . happened to accidentally open a metal tin, and erm . . . well . . .”
Jim chuckled. “So that’s how the pixie escaped. You’re lucky, bro. That pixie was wild.”
“You caught it in the wild?”
“No, no. I’m a city fae, me. Don’t do none of that wild-hunt, living under a hill stuff. I meant the pixie was insane. You did me a favor getting rid of it. Nobody was gonna buy an angry pixie, right bro?”
“Where did you get it?”
“Guy named Ingo—local vampire—gave it to me. Said it was a gift.”
“A gift?” Zee asked, suddenly invested in the conversation. “This sucker, Ingo? He said those exact words?”
“Yeah, a gift, right? That means something? I had no clue, bro, like . . . I sell upcycled trash. I figured he was just throwing it out.”
“Vampire gifts are bad,” Zee said. “Unless it’s cake. Apparently.”
“It definitely weren’t no cake. I can eat cake. Can’t eat a pixie. Some folks do. There’s not a lot of meat on ’em, I hear.”
“Do you have any idea why Ingo gifted you an angry pixie in a tin?” I asked.
“No, man. He just handed it over and walked away real fast.”
Zee gave his head a shake. “Vampires suck.”
“Do you know this Ingo?” I asked. “Can you take us to him?”
“No need,” a thin voice pealed from the shadows on the opposite side of the fireplace. “I’m right here.”
CHAPTER 8
The vampire who emerged from the gloom wasn’t like the poised, suit-wearing clones Princess Daisy had sent from Vampire Mansion. This one—and the two who emerged behind him—wore ragged, mismatched clothes, and tattered, torn boots missing their laces. Small ladders of hooped earrings climbed their ears. Spiked chains hung around their necks. They didn’t seem to carry weapons, but knowing what Reynard was capable of, I figured this trio probably didn’t need them. They didn’t look much older than Zee and me either, but vampires were often far older than their appearance suggested.
“I’m guessing these guys don’t use Reynard’s tailor,” Zee mumbled out the side of his mouth.
Jim shot to his feet. “No trouble now, eh Ingo? We’re all bros.”
“Yeah, no,” Zee straightened to his full height. “I ain’t no bro of fang fuckers.” His wings shimmered into sight, purple sparks raining. He gave them a flick, then rocked his head left to right, popping the muscles in his neck. “You guys lookin’ to party?”
As I was now the only one sitting, I got to my feet and tried to project threatening vibes. Unfortunately, standing next to Zee, I looked like his demon bait. Which had originally been the whole point, but lately, boring and forgettable didn’t seem to be working so well.
The lead vampire raked his glare head to toe over Zee. “You think you can take three of us, demon?”
“Oh, baby.” Zee’s smile revealed the sharp points of his teeth. “A ménage à trois? You fuckin’ tease.”
I stepped forward. “Wait, please. We just want to know where the pixie came from, that’s all. This doesn’t need to get messy.” I laid a hand on Zee’s arm. “Does it, Zee?”
