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"You didn't give much away."

"I wasn't going to get anything either. I know better. Which means I should have done this first." I called Sean's cell phone back and left a message, explaining the situation and my talk with Bryce, asking him to call when he could.

As I disconnected, someone rapped at the door.

"I paid for another night in case we need it," Adam said. "That's probably housekeeping."

I opened the door. There stood a short, gaunt man dressed in clothes covered in a decade of filth.

"Not housekeeping," I called, then turned to the homeless man. "Look, I'm sure this saves time, knocking on doors instead of sitting on the corner, but you've got to pick a better class of motel. Folks here are as likely to take your money as give you some."

The man lifted his head. His beard was streaked with dried vomit. There was a dent the size of a golf ball in his temple, and a chunk of skull was missing. Brain matter oozed through.

"It's for you," I called to Adam.

The dead homeless guy grunted and pushed past me into the room.

thirteen

"It's a zombie," I said to Adam, now standing in the open bathroom doorway.

"You think?" He turned to the dead guy. "Kimerion, I presume?"

"Yes. Have I interrupted an intimate moment?"

Adam arched an eyebrow, then cast a pointed look at me--fully dressed--then at the bed, still made with our laptops on it.

"Only a passing familiarity with human intimacy, I take it?" Adam said.

"You never know," I said. "Maybe the people he hangs out with just lie on the bed together and surf porn sites on their laptops. Evolution at its finest."

"Or its cleanest," Kimerion said. "Human reproduction is so messy. All those bodily fluids."

"Speaking of bodily fluids . . ." I pointed to the snail's trail of putrefaction he had left in his wake. "Next time you need a dead body? Shopping is much better at the morgue. Cleaned up, stitched up, and prettied up. You'd look almost human."

He curled his lip, revealing teeth the color of maggots. Or maybe they were maggots.

"Don't take another step." I went into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, put it on the chair, and motioned for him to sit. As he did, I spritzed him.

"My aftershave?" Adam said.

"It's cheaper than my perfume." I turned to Kimerion. "So, who stole my thunder?"

"I don't know yet."

"Then what is this? A social visit?"

He gave me a withering look. "No. I found something else you might consider useful. I realized that may happen as I continue this investigation, and if it does, we may wish to extend our agreement to cover it."

"So you want to be paid for the leads that don't actually solve the case?" I turned to Adam. "Why don't we do that? If we're investigating, and we find out someone's screwing around or cheating his company, we can sell that information to the highest bidder."

"We could. If we were demons."

"Ah, right. There's the rub. Our pesky human consciences." I glanced back at Kimerion. "We're not bargaining for every useless scrap--"

"Not even if it pertains to a recent case of yours? A certain Volo half-demon's untimely departure from her hell dimension?"

When I blinked, he smiled. "I thought that might change your mind. Did you stop to wonder how Leah O'Donnell escaped? It's not that easily accomplished, as may be evidenced by the fact that your world isn't currently overrun by the spirit of every evildoer in history."

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