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172 pages, Paperback
First published April 19, 2024
“A whole lot of cash, blood, sweat, and bodily fluids—and some questionable ritual sacrifices—had all been leading to this moment.”
Zodiac snorted. “You think he needs to stay here? Look at him. He sweats cash— if he sweats at all. What’s he need to stay in a shithole like ours for?”
Oh my stars, why didn’t demons come with filters? “What Zodiac means is, we’d be delighted to host Lord Reynard.”
It hurt, knowing Sebastien was Zee’s safety net, when I’d hoped I was.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I intend to get cleaned up, visit the bar, then perhaps stalk the streets and ambush an unsuspecting Twilight fan. They’re such easy prey.”
“I bet he eats raspberries with a fork,” he grumbled.
Raspberries? What? Trying to follow Zee’s train of thought was sometimes like trying to wrestle an octopus.
“What do you think?” I asked him.
Zee circled it. His tail snaked up one of its edges. “A bomb would be smaller.”
“A bomb?!” I stepped back and eyed the box with alarm. “You think it’s explosive?”
He pulled an I-don’t-know face. “I just said it probably wasn’t.”
“Then why mention a bomb?”
“You asked.” He shrugged.
“So it’s not a bomb?”
“It could be. What the fuck do I know about bombs?”


“To the SOS Hotel, the Friendly Sanctuary for the Fiendishly Fucking Fabulous.”