Demon hunting. At least this one wasn’t after me, although I wouldn’t put it past her to try.

Maybe I could confuse her into not being able to decide whether to be a succubus or incubus. That might be an advantage. What did I do with it?

First of all, though, Kanesha had collected all the names we knew that she’d used and was doing probably redundant research.

The spy types had to have done it all already, surely. But it was worth it. We might see something they didn’t.

Some pattern. Something that came from our side not theirs.

Something that wouldn’t be seen by people who didn’t trust anyone. Part of me wanted to not go after her, as maybe…

But no. We couldn’t really let her go around, as the spy had put it, collecting Senators. Not so much because I cared about the U.S. political system as because whatever she was up to would undoubtedly destroy lives.

Demons always destroyed lives. It was what they did. So, even without knowing exactly what she was up to, I had to do something about her.

Well, Tyz’vel hadn’t destroyed my life, but now I understood more I knew he had destroyed lives. And collected souls.
That might be what she was up to too, although I didn’t think Senators would be that much of a challenge. Yeah, I was in a pretty cynical mood on the matter.

“Okay. I’m not finding anything we don’t already have.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “I mean, they have analysts who’ve been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive.”

She threw a piece of wadded paper at me. I managed to let it hit me.

“Just because you’re secretly older than this country.”

“Exaggeration!”

“How do you know?”

I threw the piece of paper back. “Looks like we’re hitting the street.”

“I’ll call Clara and see if she has anything,” she offered, setting aside her laptop and uncoiling from my sofa in a way that made me want to do other things than hit the street. I pushed it out of my mind for later and went to check my gear.

I wondered if I could do something with magic or blessed bullets. Father Will could do that, of course, but I was pretty sure that was crossing pantheons to a little bit too much of a degree.

“Clara’s not picking up.”

“Crap. Do you know where…”

“She said she’d be home.”

I put the gun into my jacket. “Let’s go.”