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“Distracting is my thing,” Zee whined.

“Except you’re somehow both invisible and highly visible right now, and unable to fly. You’re at a disadvantage.” Victor glanced toward the sounds of incoming cops, making the floppy socks swing. “Just go. I’ll meet you back at the hotel in a few hours.”

I made a grab for where I suspected Zee’s arm might be and caught his sleeve. “Let’s go, Zee.”

“Lovin’ the gimp look, Vampire Daddy. Definitely keep that on for later⁠—”

“I prefer dominance to submission,” Victor said, voice muffled by the mask, then blurred out of sight, probably setting himself up somewhere high to ambush the unsuspecting police.

We hurried off, taking a few random turns, then out of sight from cameras and any prying eyes, I pulled Zee to a stop. “Hold up, Zee. Maybe take off the ring for a second?”

“What ring?”

“The ring you picked up in the store?”

“Oh, that ring.” He must have pulled the ring off, because Zee’s solid, ink-covered glory shimmered back into sight. “This one?”

I took it from him and squinted at it under the pale streetlight. It was definitely a Gideon Cain ring. Agatha was his personal jeweler then, just as Seb had said. She probably designed and made all his rings, and those he handed out to his subordinates like candy. “Here. Put it back on.”

“Sure.” He took the ring back and slid it back on, and this time even the ink splatters disappeared. He’d gone.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re invisible.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I see me.” I imagined him looking at his own hands. So the ring only masked him from others—not himself. It also seemed to mask anything he was wearing or holding at the time he put the ring on, which was why the ink had vanished this time, but not before.

I slowly extended a finger and jabbed. My finger buckled against something warm and hard.

“Watch what you’re poking, Kitten,” Zee purred. “Should we take the bling back?”

“No . . . We’ll borrow it. It might be useful. Keep it on until we get home. If the cops see us, they’ll be looking for a human with a tall demon coated in ink. I’m just a boring human walking all by myself.”

“Good plan.”

“Let’s grab a tram.” I led the way out of the alley, toward the tramstop.

“Are you sure I’m invisible?” Zee asked after a while, his voice floating.

“Yup. Watch.” We caught a tram, and hopped on. I paid for a ticket, but Zee passed by without the driver or any of the other late-night passengers noticing him. Nobody ignored Zee—ever.

I sat, and the seat dipped next to me. “I don’t like it,” his small grumbly voice said beside me. “You live like this? Trying to be invisible?”

“I guess. I mean, I tried to.”

“It’s horrible.”

“It’s not so bad . . . when you’re trying to hide.”

“Ugh. I can feel myself being forgotten. It’s like being in the shadow realm all over again.”

“You can take it off when we get home, or we’ll have to pay for a ticket and answer a lot of questions about why you’re covered in ink.”