Page 94 of Cold Curses
“Let me know when you’ve booked that stand-up gig,” I said with a flat smile.
“You okay?” Theo asked as we pushed into the lobby.
“Fine,” I said. “For now.” And I gave monster another warning:We need Lulu, and this is our best chance. So, stay down.
“Some magic in the lobby,” Paige said behind us. “But residual.”
“Let us know when it’s fresh,” Gwen said.
The security desk was empty, so we moved smoothly to the elevators and then up to the demon’s floor.
“Well,” Gwen said when the doors opened, “looks like they’ve rearranged things.”
The hallway, once classily (and lightly) decorated, now looked like a flea market. Random objects—lamps, pictures, stacked chairs, ugly vases—filled the entire space, but for a narrow, serpentine walking path.
“The condo board must be pissed,” Theo said.
“I don’t think there’s a human left in the building other than us,” Gwen said. “They all got out. But I’m sure they’ll be back, and angry letters will be drafted.”
It occurred to me then that she didn’t sound like she believed there would be a solution. It sounded more like she’d settled infor a long ride—like demon response was her new normal. I’d been treating it more like a flare-up, because I’d been assuming the sorcerers would fix the wards and the demons already in town would be given an ultimatum—cooperate or get out. That was one reason, monster and Lulu being two more, but I was impatient to find a fix.
Was I being naïve? Was this life now?
“Hey.”
I looked up, found Theo looking back at me.
“Coming,” I said, and followed him.
* * *
There was more decor in the condo, too. Not in any style that I could see, other than “a lot.” There was also more residual demon magic, but no booby traps or words. I guess Dante hadn’t expected us to secure a search warrant. Maybe he’d found a few judges to pay off, just in case. Whatever the reason, we could be gloriously nosy.
“All right,” Gwen said. “Cameras on for your protection and mine.”
Some of the cops chuckled as they switched on tiny lapel cameras that would record the search.
“We are here to execute a duly authorized search warrant,” she said, holding up her screen, where the text was printed. “We will search thoroughly and damage nothing. Any claims for damage, verified by video evidence, can be made to your local precinct. We are authorized to obtain any material—electronic, physical, or supernatural—that potentially pertains to the deaths of humans or demons within the city of Chicago over the last week, or to the magic used on Lulu Bell.” She looked over the cops, me, and Theo. “Let’s make it a clean search, and let’s get what we came for.”
Teams took rooms. I started in the kitchen, helping a uniform search through drawers, behind drawers, underneath drawers.The cupboards were still bare. I wasn’t entirely sure what demons ate—but whatever it was, they hadn’t eaten it in this kitchen.
After finding nothing, I walked through the living room and considered its hoarding. Because that was what it looked like—the obsessive gathering of stuff Dante didn’t need now and probably wouldn’t use in the future. There were built-in bookshelves along one wall, but they were empty of books or personal effects. Just empty frames, empty vases, chunks of decorative stone.
“He’s like a bowerbird, huh?”
The question came from a thickly Chicago-accented voice, and I turned to find a petite, curvy woman in uniform. She had pale skin, a mound of dark curls on her head, and a brilliant smile.
“Sorry?” I said.
“Bowerbird,” she repeated, and looked at me. “Little birds that live—maybe in Australia? The guys build a nest for the ladies to show off. But it’s not just twigs. They collect stuff—plastic, glass, rocks, what have you, and make little collections. All to find mates.”
“Huh,” I said. “I don’t know about mates, but it does look like he was trying to show off.” If that was right, was he doing it for someone else—to impress the upstart—or to reassure himself that he was winning the territorial war?
I wandered down a hallway. On the left was a bathroom full of grooming products; there was an empty bedroom on the right. Dante hadn’t bothered to fill this part yet, or maybe he just hadn’t gotten around to it. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall. CPD officers were working through the cabinets of the connected bathroom; the cabinets were stocked with what looked from a quick glance like more hoarded grooming supplies.
That a demon was obsessive about his looks wasn’t a surprise.
Since Dante was obsessive and tended to favor flashy suits, Iwalked through the bathroom to the master closet. It was enormous—bigger than the first bedroom I’d passed. Not yet overflowing with clothes, but he’d made a good start. Two dozen suit jackets hung in one section, all in shades of black, gray, and silver. The wall of shoes was bigger than the kitchen in the loft I’d shared with Lulu.
