“I like the flora. But I’m thinking.” He placed the flower carefully atop the low wrought iron fence that surrounded the garden. He was taking care of it. His instinct was to save and protect and cherish; Gwen had picked a good partner in Theo.
“About?” I asked.
“Do you think he’s right about that good-demon thing? That it’s not right—morally, I guess—to demand they all leave?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and leaned back against the rail. “I think Petra said there were demons who did beneficial things, but that was mostly because humans used their sigils to control them. I don’t know how much of that was a demon’s nature versus a human’s control.”
Theo nodded. “That’s a point.”
“On the other hand, there are not a lot of historical pieces about how great vampires are. Sparkly ones excluded.”
Theo smiled. “Supernaturals are a complex bunch.”
“Eh, I don’t think we’re any more complex than humans. Some are good guys; some are not. I’m pretty sure he’s not a good guy. And unless we can find the evidence to get him out, it sounds like he plans to stay.”
* * *
While Theo drove the van back to the office, I watched the sky for winged demons or other obstacles—because that was my life now—and tried to get an update about Connor’s fight. I hadn’t gotten a message from him, so I bugged Alexei, but he hadn’t heard anything either. I stopped myself before messaging Dan, as I wanted him focused on Connor, not babysitting me. I’d just have to keep waiting, which was unfortunate. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues.
“So, Dante the demon says he’s in town for business,” Roger said when we reached the office, sandwiches in tow. He chewed a bite of veggie sub while he contemplated. “And he should be allowed to stay unless he engages in bad behavior.”
“Well,” Petra said, “until he’s caught at it, anyway.” She nibbled the edge of a barbecue chip. She’d taken off her gloves to eat, lest she end up with orange-tinted fabric.
“That was his argument,” Theo said. “And it lines up with what the mayor was saying.”
Roger looked at Petra. “Does he really own that condo?”
“Not according to the county records. But they aren’t updated automatically, and there can be a lag depending on when the documents are submitted.”
“You’re right that we can’t take him in the building,” Roger said. “There’s too much risk.”
“Lure him out?” Theo asked, inspecting the components of his sandwich for the second time.
“I told them no mayo,” I said.
“I know,” he said, and reassembled it. “Just checking the math. Mayo is demon spit.”
“I mean, probably not literally,” I said, “because it would have burned right through the bread.”
“Probably not literally,” he agreed.
“We don’t have any lures,” Roger said, then added dryly, “except property owned by Buckley.”
“That we haven’t been able to reach Buckley makes me really curious about the condo’s sale,” Theo said. “If this was some kind of shakedown, why not tell us and get Dante off his back?”
“Maybe he doesn’t trust cops,” I said. “The devil you know and all that.”
“Maybe he’s no longer able to talk,” Roger said. And the silence that followed confirmed we’d all been thinking the same thing.
I glanced at Petra. “You have any luck learning about Dante?”
“Oh, yeah,” Petra said. “That was the easy part. First of all, he’s a duke.”
“Like a British duke?” Theo asked.
“Like a demon duke. Solomon ranked them.” That was King Solomon of religious fame, who had researched, cataloged, and learned to control at least seventy-two demons. A copy of his centuries-old grimoire, theKey of Solomon, was easy to find online.
“Solomon said, based on his conversations with demons, that they had this aristocratic hierarchy. Marquises, dukes, et cetera at the top of the pyramid. The higher the ranks, the more powerful the demons, and the larger their legions of lower-ranked demons.”
