Page 12

CHAPTER 12

“I take it things did not go well,” Victor said, seeing our faces as he was ushered into the back of the pickup truck with us.

“It was goin’ just fine until these dicks picked us up again.” Zee tutted at our escorts, the driver and his literal shotgun partner. “Although I gotta say, Sexy McSpicy Fangs, seeing your ass in those fine threads again almost makes up for it.”

“Thank you. I think.” Victor settled into the seat to my right while Zee admired him from my left. As usual, I was in the middle. Victor tugged at his cuffs. “It does feel nice being back in quality clothing once more. Especially as an alligator ate much of my previous suit.”

We’d been gone most of the day, so by the time we’d made it back to the apartment building to collect Victor, the sun was well on its way to setting behind the high-rises. Miami was even more glamorous and sparkly at night.

“Gorgeous,” Zee said, probably gazing out the window.

I tore my gaze from the sprawl of colored lights and found him watching me. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and my glance flicked to Victor who I also found to be looking at me. And smiling. Oh, okay. Zee meant me?

You’d think by now I’d be used to praise, but the dual weight of their admiring gazes had me squirming. When you come from a world in which your family will stop at nothing to kill you, it’s tough learning to bask in positive energy. Maybe one day I’d just accept that I deserved good things too... like their love.

It wasn’t long before we passed through a set of tall metal gates and stopped outside a guard booth. Kat hadn’t been wrong about the enormous gun. There it was, slung from the ceiling inside the booth. I’d never seen a gun that big. The big hunk of metal was probably as long as Zee was tall.

What the heck was it designed to stop?

“Someone is compensating for summink, just sayin’...” Zee remarked, with a side-eye that meant we all knew what that thing was the drug lord might be compensating for.

“Compensating for what?” Victor asked, leaning back in the truck’s seat.

“Huh?” Zee asked.

The guard peered inside the truck, saw the two trolls up front, and waved us through a second gate. Cameras recorded our passing from high up on the fence posts.

“What is the mini-cannon compensating for?” Victor asked again.

Zee frowned. “Are you joking right now?”

“No. I do not believe so.”

“How do you not know this?” Zee gestured toward his own crotch. “Compensating for a lack of firepower elsewhere, yah know?”

“Oh.” Victor lifted his chin. “I see.”

Shotgun Troll twisted in the passenger seat and glared at Zee. “You sayin’ the boss has a small dick?”

Zee raised his hands. “Woah, does he know you talk about him like that?”

“You said it, demon.”

“I was just admiring the big gun. Looks like you got dicks on the brain. Some might say, therefore, you are a dickhead.”

Oh dear, was this some clever ploy to antagonize Shotgun Troll, or was Zee oblivious to how he’d offended his masculine energy?

“You guys are small, so you probably need to compensate, is all I was sayin’.”

“You sayin’ we all got small dicks?”

Zee spluttered a laugh. “What? Moi? Would I say something like that? I’m sure you’re perfectly proportioned.”

I caught Victor’s less than subtle eyeroll.

It seemed Zee was just antagonizing Shotgun Troll because he could, or because he was bored.

“And I suppose your dick is huge?” the troll snarled.

Zee preened. “Now that you mention it...”

“Is a penis-measuring contest truly necessary?” Of course that came from Victor.

Shotgun Troll grumbled and faced ahead again. Zee had to pinch his lips together, because... you know... penis.

During their conversation, the driver had threaded the big truck down a smooth, winding driveway that had taken us through gardens, tennis courts, and golf courses. Lots of open space and palm trees. And privacy. Where some folks might possibly get disappeared and buried under the ninth hole.

Clearly, selling drugs paid well. What were the chances that Tom Collins might know this guy?

The truck pulled around a splashing fountain, and a well-dressed doorman jogged down the steps and opened our door.

“Do you think he gets the back door too?” Zee smirked, eyeing the heavyset doorman as though picturing him naked.

“I suspect he’s more likely to be the ‘slam your balls in a door’ kind of person,” Victor said, deadpan.

We both stared at Victor as we climbed the steps behind our escorts.

Victor side-eyed us, noticing our stares. “Apologies, was that too much?”

“No, I fuckin’ like it when you get salty... weirdly.” Zee shivered all over. “Jealous, Fancy Fangs?”

“That is a possibility.”

“Babe, you know you’re all mine, an’ I ain’t the kind to step out, right?” Zee slung an arm around Victor’s shoulders and tugged him close.

“We’re Zee’s ke-ach ,” I said.

Victor clearly knew the word and stopped dead in his tracks, holding up our retinue of guards in the grand, glass-domed entrance foyer.

Zee eye-rolled, and stepping away from Victor said, “Don’t make it weird.”

“Is that true?” Victor asked.

“Yes. Fuck. Obviously. Or I wouldn’t have said it.”

Did this ke-ach status have a more significant meaning than just mate, and I was missing it? “It’s good, right?”

Victor’s wide eyes skipped to me. “We three are married—in demon terms.”

Married. “Oh!” I beamed.

“Ugh.” Zee rolled his eyes. “I said don’t make it weird, and you go an’ make it weird.”

“Get a move on. Mr. Skrinde does not like to be kept waiting,” Shotgun Troll said, urging us on with the end of the gun.

Zee stuck up a hand. “Hold up.” He stopped our group, made sure all eyes were on him, and said, “I love you.” He pointed at me. Then at Victor. “And I love you.” Pointing at the troll, he said, “Do not love you.” With a flick of his wrist, he planted both hands on his hips. “There-fucking-fore—lemme be clear, for the emotionally stunted vampires—I am yours and you are mine, and that’s what ke-ach means.”

My heart swelled and my grin turned goofy. “You’re the best, Zee.”

Victor swallowed hard, and maybe he had a little something in his eye, making him dab at his lashes. “I uh... Words are failing me.”

“That’s why there is a demon word for it... ke-ach .”

Shotgun Troll sighed. “Are you guys done with the Hallmark moment?”

Zee fluttered his fingers. “You may proceed.” Then tilted his head and with a grin, whispered to Victor. “You don’t need to say anything, Vic.” Zee touched his own chest, over his heart. “I feel it.”

Victor nodded, maybe a little afraid his voice would fail him. It had to be tough for a vampire with a heart to go through life unloved, then to find it with two misfits like us. But he was beginning to believe it, and believe he was worthy.

We walked through the fancy house—although house was the wrong word. Palace was more appropriate. Sprawling walkways led to different sections, with much of the house being wide open to the elements. Maybe it didn’t rain all that much here?

Finally we headed to a lit-up pool area, where a skinny troll floated in an inflated unicorn ring.

“Mr. Skrinde, the San Francisco so-called heroes have arrived.”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting a drug-lord troll to look like, but this guy wasn’t it.

“Right, hold up...” He shoved his hands into the water on either side of the unicorn inflatable and began to paddle his way back toward the edge. Only, he wasn’t all that heavy, and a breeze must have caught the unicorn, twisting him around to face the wrong way. He paddled furiously to correct his course, and ended up paddling in a circle.

I wasn’t sure where to look. He was clearly struggling.

Secondhand embarrassment crawled over me.

“Is anyone goin’ to help him out?” Zee asked.

Shotgun Troll shot Zee a dead-eyed warning glare, and his finger twitched on the shotgun’s trigger.

Okay then. We were all just supposed to wait while the drug-lord troll paddled in circles in his blow-up unicorn in his giant pool in his oversized Miami mansion?

“It’s okay! I got this.” He paddled around, lined himself back up with us, and splashed over, using unsettling hip-jerking motions to gain momentum in the water.

Was this the right Mr. Skrinde? The same Mr. Skrinde who had businesses like Kat’s running scared? The same Mr. Skrinde who had the frog shifters fighting for their land and their lives?

Victor scratched at his cheek, but remained stoic-faced. He’d had a lot of practice.

Zee’s eyes were wide, and blinking. “This is fuckin’ painful... I can just hop in there and drag him—” Shotgun Troll pointed his shotgun at Zee, and Zee raised his hands. “Yup, okay, not gonna do that.”

“Here we are! Hoo-wee!” Mr. Skrinde tipped himself out of the unicorn and padded up the steps, out of the pool. His tight black swim shorts left little to the imagination. Turns out Zee was wrong about trolls being proportionate... Or Mr. Skrinde had a cucumber stashed down there.

“That’s some banana hammock,” Zee said, lips pinching back a laugh.

Victor snorted, and covered the sound with a well-timed polite cough.

I couldn’t look away. Why couldn’t I look away?

Mr. Skrinde tucked his thumbs down those tight trunks, and flicked them from his waist, adjusting what did not need to be adjusted.

“I mean, I’ve seen some nut-huggers, but those are eye-watering,” Zee commented.

“Perhaps a size too small?” Victor suggested, straight-faced.

“You think he sings soprano?”

“I dare say, the Minigun at the gate is perhaps rather accurate.”

What was happening? Were Zee and Victor riffing?

Cocking a hip, Zee folded his arms. “I’d pay good money to see you in a peen pouch like that, Spicy Fangs.”

“No payment required, demon. Just so long as you admire the package from your knees.”

Zee choked out a dirty, startled chuckle. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” Victor purred under his breath.

Mercy. This was... peculiar, even for me. I’d been doing just fine until I imagined Victor rising from that pool wearing just a tiny pair of shorts. Oh my stars... I tugged at my shirt collar, then flicked a few buttons open. Miami nights were hot, huh?

Finally, one of the house staff hurried out and offered a fluffy black gown to Skrinde. He shrugged it on and belted it tight. “Now then, let’s take a seat over here and talk business, shall we? Sit, sit... You want some blow?”

Zee’s eyes lit up, pupils blowing like a cat high on catnip.

“No, we’re good...” I took a seat opposite Skrinde at the fancy glass-top table. Victor and Zee sat either side of me, taking their usual positions.

“It’s good to finally meet you three— Heroes of the City .” He swept a hand through the air. “Real life celebrities. And a dragon, too.” Skrinde grinned, and wiggled in his seat like an excitable puppy.

“Uhm... yes.” Did he not know we’d killed his son? Maybe the news hadn’t reached him yet. It was probably best not to mention it.

“Do you like the apartment? One of my favorites, right on the oceanfront. Stunning sunrises, although I figure the vampire doesn’t much like all that glass, eh?”

“You are correct,” Victor admitted. “But your hospitality is otherwise appreciated, if somewhat unexpected.”

“What, you think all trolls are tiny assholes?” Skrinde asked, then laughed at our trio of blank faces. Even Zee didn’t seem to know how to handle the oddness of all this. “For real, though. I’m a nice guy. Would a bad guy own an inflatable unicorn?”

Zee opened his mouth to add some of his varied and extensive experience with bad guys, then stalled and closed it again.

“I suspect what Zodiac was about to ask, is why have you brought us here?” Victor said, steering us toward a topic more useful than blow-up unicorns.

“Ah yes, a man who likes to get straight to the point. I appreciate conciseness. It doesn’t hurt in business to go straight for the jugular... and you’d know all about that!” Skrinde laughed.

“Indeed.”

I was sure Victor had heard that line more than once, but he took it with grace.

“Let’s see. Why are you here? Alright, well. I believe we can help each other. You’re on the run and I need some untraceable assistance with a problem of the amphibian nature. You help me clear out some undesirables, and I won’t tell your brother where you are.”

It was disconcerting listening to a skinny, wet, barely dressed troll attempt to blackmail us. His home, the estate, the people he had around him... it all suggested he was a powerful person. But that world meant nothing to us. His wealth, his muscle, the theatrics, all designed to impress, were insignificant.

Skrinde had made a big mistake when he’d looked at us and assumed weakness. Although I did wonder how he knew I had a brother when only a few folks knew that, and nearly all of those few folks were sitting next to me.

“Is that it?” Zee asked. “That’s the play?”

“Well, yes. See, not so bad.” Skrinde spread his hands. “We can work together, and I’ll let you go when I’ve gotten those frogs off my land.”

“Oh, sure. We all agree frogs are bad.” Zee leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable. “And we’re supposed to trust you’ll just keep our location a secret because you’re nice like that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?” Victor asked.

A tiny fracture passed through Skrinde’s smile. I’d had enough experience with fake smiles and fake nice people to know when we were being played.

“You do know there was an accident at Toby Skrinde’s villa?” I asked.

Skrinde senior shrugged. “I have five other brats leeching off my bank account. Toby was expendable.”

If his own son was expendable, then so were we. He needed some firepower to get the frogs out. If we did as he asked, he’d probably try and kill us afterward, or hand us over to my brother.

In my experience, nice people rarely had to tell others they were nice people. And that was coming from a nice person who sometimes wasn’t nice at all.

I smiled back at Skrinde. “I think we’ll pass, but thank you for everything you’ve done. The apartment was lovely, and the clothes are great.” I got to my feet. Zee and Victor followed my cue. “Now, which way is out?”

“Oh dear,” Skrinde sighed.

That was my line.

“You seem to think this is a negotiation.” Skrinde beckoned his people closer—the guys with the guns. “It’s too late for that.”

I’d lived with bullies my whole life. So had Zee. Victor had been at the bottom of the vampire hierarchy, and treated like trash by his own family. We knew what it felt like, being helpless, trapped in circumstances not of your making.

Mr. Skrinde really had underestimated us, and overestimated his own power.

Victor moved . The gun vanished from Shotgun Troll’s hands.

Zee poofed behind the trolls with guns and loomed, suddenly huge, with his wings open and tail lashing. “Boo!”

They whirled, guns up. But he poofed away, gone in a blink.

During Zee’s distraction, Victor dashed to Skrinde—stolen shotgun in hand—and wedged the gun’s barrel against the back of the troll’s head. Victor didn’t have to be dramatic, he could have broken Skrinde’s neck before anyone had seen him move, but this was a warning, made all the more clear when Zee poofed into the pool, grabbed the blow-up unicorn, and poised his tail to stab it.

The unicorn made painful, wet, rubber-on-rubber noises as Zee squelched up the pool steps, dripping wet but looking badass for it. “Nobody fuckin’ move or I blow the unicorn.”

I snicked my claws free and smiled at Skrinde, frozen in his chair. “Let’s negotiate.”