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“I’m not finding anything!” Zee spun, but forgot his tail was loose. The swish smacked a little display of rings off the counter, sending them flying. Zee jumped at the sound, and spun again, whipping his tail around, clearing the contents of a second display shelf in the process. The whole lot crashed to the floor with a startling cacophony.

“Oh dear,” Victor said, beating me to it. “He really does not do subtle.”

“I know, but he tries.”

“Fuck!” He grabbed his tail, stopping its assault on anything shiny, then spotted something on the floor. “Ooh baby, look at you.”

“Zodiac, we’re here for a reason,” Victor warned. “Focus on the task at hand.”

He was focused—on something shiny. “Come to Uncle Zee,” he sang, then ducked behind the counter. When he reappeared, he had a signet ring pinched between his fingers. A ring that looked a whole lot like the anti-ward ring I had. Gideon’s ring. He slid it onto his gloved finger and vanished—not like when he translocated vanished, which always left a splash of sparks behind—I’d blinked and he was just gone.

Pressing both hands against the window, I smooshed my face closer. “Where’d he go?”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. He scanned the store interior. “I do not know.”

A tray of earrings took a dive off a shelf. A drawer opened, then slammed shut, all by itself.

“Oh, hello locked drawer,” Zee’s disembodied voice said. “Abraca-fuck-yah.” A cupboard in the back wall buckled and jerked open. Rolls of paper spilled out, apparently all by themselves. One of those rolls hung in the air and unrolled itself.

“He doesn’t know he’s invisible,” Victor said, eyes widening.

A blast of blue ink exploded out of the cupboard, painting the outline of a Zee ghost, highlighting his silhouette like a stencil a kid draws around to sketch a basic demon shape. Zee’s transparent smudge floated over to the window and slammed the document against the glass. “Get a good look, Daddy. Use that photographic memory of yours ’cause I’m compromised, covered in ink, and we’re fuckin’ done.”

Victor blinked, scanned the document, and nodded. “Good, now let’s go.”

“Al-fuckin’-right.”

Sirens sounded somewhere far off—probably not for us, but if the safe had been booby-trapped with ink, then it could also have a silent alarm. “Guys, we really need to go, now.”

The Zee ghost poofed onto the front step and—I assume—gave himself a shake, as blue ink rained in all directions. A few splatters dashed my shirt. At least it wasn’t blood, or squashed demon-general guts, or portal goo. As misadventures went, my shirt might survive this one.

“Ugh, not a fan of blue.” Zee’s voice floated. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve got three horns?”

“You’re invisible,” I said. “Kind of.”

“I’m in-what-now?”

The sirens grew louder, either carried on the breeze or getting real close.

“Never mind,” Victor grabbed Zee’s weirdly semi-transparent, ink-splattered arm and hurried us along. “We’ll discuss it later.”

Inky bootprints glowed on the sidewalk. “He’s leaving a trail of ink behind.”

Victor’s sigh was heavy with reluctance. “Give me your mask.”

“Huh?”

“I assume you’re still wearing the gimp mask, Zodiac? Please, hand it over.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Zee tore off the mask—at least, I think he did, as the ink splatters on his face vanished. “Hello? Take it then?”

“I cannot see it,” Victor grumbled through gritted teeth.

“What the fuck? It’s right front of your face⁠—”

Victor took a swipe at the air, and snatched the mask from Zee’s grip, which made it appear in his hand, covered in blue ink.

“What are you—” I began, then stopped when Victor pulled the mask over his head. He didn’t have horns, so the elongated horn-socks flopped down either side of his head like two sad dreadlocks. “Go. Get Adam to safety. I’ll delay and distract the authorities.”