“I don’t recognize that symbol,” said Quinn.

“Neither do I,” Eve replied. “But the necromancer took the heart.”

“What kind of spell could he or she perform with it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Mac said. “All sorts, I guess. Maybe he’s trying to create more power with it.”

I looked at Eve and Quinn, who both shrugged. I couldn’t help but wonder what Beatrix’s body had been used for, but I forced the thought back. Dwelling on it would only distract me, and in a bad way. But since my friends had no more information…

I slugged back the last of my ale and put the mobile away. “Right. I think I need a word with the Devil.”

Mac had agreed to let me see the Devil alone. She’d wanted to come as backup, but it was too dangerous. He couldn’t control my mind, which made me the perfect person to interrogate him about the symbol inside the body.

He’d expected it to be there, or at least, he’d expected something to be there.

I needed to know why.

Eve had given me a small assortment of protective potions—on the house, she’d said. I still planned to pay her back someday, somehow.

As I strode toward the Devil’s tower, I felt a presence alongside me. I looked left and right, finally spotting Cordelia running along the other side of the street, keeping pace with me. The fat little raccoon was fast.

“What are you doing, Cordelia?” I called, feeling crazy for talking to her like this. It was one thing to chat with her while I was drinking my boxed wine and knowing she’d never respond.

But this?

I almost expected her to say something back to me.

Cordelia, however, didn’t so much as glance at me. And as we neared the vampire’s tower, she turned left down an alley and disappeared.

Weird.

When I reached the edge of the clearing in front of the vampire’s tower, I stopped and stared at it.

He probably wasn’t the murderer, right?

Right.

I swallowed hard and stepped forward. He was certainly dangerous, and he very well might know a lot about the murderer, but my gut said he wasn’t the killer. It also said that he knew something valuable about the crime.

Just in case, though, I stuck my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket and let my fingertips brush across the smooth glass surfaces of the potion bombs that Eve had given me. Freezing, healing, and smoke.

I had backup. And Mac had sworn to come get me if I didn’t contact her in an hour. It was more than I’d ever had before, and I was grateful.

As I neared the two guards, I recognized them. Once again, they made me think of animals—lions and panthers. Just like Quinn. Their massive hands were folded in front of their bodies as they stared impassively at me.

I opened my mouth to request an audience with their boss, but the one on the left just turned and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to enter. Quickly, I glanced between the two of them, not sure if I liked this kind of welcome.

Not that it necessarily mattered. I had to go in, whether I liked it or not. I gave the city behind me one last look, then strode through the doors. The hostess who waited for me was the same, and she inclined her head. “Welcome back.”

“Expecting me?”

She smiled and shrugged. “Come this way.”

She led me through the club again. Tonight, it was heaving. The hour was just past midnight, and the chairs and tables were full. A band played onstage—a trio of women with snakes for hair. Everyone in the place avoided looking right at them, though they were dancing along to the music.

Would the patrons turn to stone if they met the gazes of the three gorgons?

Between that and the lava room at the witches’ party, it was clear these supernaturals liked some danger with their nights out.

The halls we walked down were as confusing as ever, and I could feel my mind starting to fuzz. Whatever had been in the air last time was here again, making it difficult to determine where I was in the building. If I returned, I’d never find my way back without a guide.

The hostess stopped at the wooden door and knocked. I heard nothing, but she must have picked up a signal, because after a pause, she let us in.

I followed her into the room, realizing that the Devil was alone this time. The two guards no longer stood behind his desk, and I wondered if he had dismissed them right before I arrived.

“A guest for you, sir,” the hostess said.

“I can see that, Miranda. Thank you.” He didn't so much as look at her. No—the entire time, his gaze was glued to me.

Miranda slipped out the door, shutting it noiselessly behind her.

Silence hung heavy in the air as I inspected him. He was as impossibly handsome as I remembered, lounging in the chair behind his desk. His broad shoulders filled out his suit perfectly, and his gray tie lay flat against his muscular chest. I could imagine him strangling someone with that tie, and I wasn’t sure what that said about me.

I shook the thought away.

“Please sit.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

I looked at it like it was a snake. If I sat, it would be that much harder to fight back. To run. “No, thank you.”

“Understood.” He stood, his movements graceful, and walked around the side of the desk.

I stepped back, determined to keep my distance. The memory of his touch sent heat shivering through me, and I didn’t need that kind of distraction. I had no idea why I was kind of into the fear—probably some predator magic of his making me feel this way—but I certainly didn’t need to encourage it.

“Well?” he asked. “Did you find your man?”

“First, I need to clear something up.”

“Yes?”

“When you are looking for me, don’t use your mind control powers on my friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“You used mind control on my friend Eve. Don’t do that. Ever.”

“Friends already, are you?”

“Yeah, and I don’t have many of those, so I’m going to protect her.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I quite like you.”

“It’s not mutual. And it never will be if you treat my friends like that.” I couldn’t imagine ever liking him. It was such a weak word for a man like him. Loathe, lust, love.

Love?

Where had that one come from?

Insane to even think the word. It had to be magic. Hell, in this world, anything I didn’t like I could explain away with magic. Convenient.

I gave him a hard look. “Before we go any further, I need to know why you are interested in this murder.”

“Murder is always interesting.”

“Don’t try to smooth-talk me. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced you don’t have some role to play in this.”

“Yet you returned here?” Concern flickered across his face. “You should protect yourself better. If you think I’m involved, you shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous, and I don’t like it.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I’d like to change that. For example, you seem very invested in this murder.”

“Um, I’m wanted for a string of serial killings. My face is on posters in pubs. Of course I’m invested in clearing my name.” My throat tightened at the thought of Beatrix.

“That’s not the only reason.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can feel it.”

“Some bastard killed my friend, okay?” The words burst out of me. “My only friend, a year ago. And I found her dead.”

“The woman you asked me about.” His voice was softer.

“Yes. And there were no leads until this guy ended up dead with the same little spiral burn on his neck.”

He nodded. “I see. I’m sorry.”

I shook away the thoughts, hardening my face as I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more about your interest in this murder.”

I could tell from his dissatisfied expression that he wanted to ask me more about Beatrix, but he just nodded. “Fine. I like to keep track of everything that happens in this city. And I believe that there may be a necromancer in town.”

Just like Mac suspected. “And that’s bad?”

“Exceedingly. They are powerful, dangerous, and unscrupulous. There is one particular necromancer that I’ve clashed with since I came to England.”

“From where?”

“I thought you didn’t want to get to know each other.”

“Fine.” I didn’t really need that information, anyway. “So you think the killer might be this necromancer?”

“Yes. And I think he might be up to something that threatens me and my empire. An acquaintance tipped me off that he came into town about a year ago. At the same time, a valuable dagger of mine was stolen. Perhaps by him.”

“You think he used it in the murder.”

“It was capable of great magic, so yes, it is possible. When our victim was killed, there was a flare of magic—likely from a spell performed at the time. I tracked that magic and was going to investigate the scene when you showed up.”

I supposed the story worked. And the flare of magic described the crazy symbol inside the victim’s chest. There was no way I’d be letting my guard down, though. “You have no idea what this necromancer is after?”

“No.”

“Why haven’t you looked for him, then? Why give me clues?”

“Because you’re competent and skilled and will get the job done. Leaving me free to spend my time on other things.”

“Like?” He’d better be trying to solve this damned murder, too, if I was going to trust him.

“I’ve been hunting the necromancer here in Guild City.”

“Caught him yet?”

“Sadly, no.” His voice had a wry lilt that I liked. “But there have been flares of dark magic at the churches surrounding Guild City. Ones in the human realm.”