When the head of the racket emerged from behind the washing machine, I saw why the monster was howling so. Nathaniel had basically squashed it to the ground under the netting, so the rat-demon was imprisoned between the wire of the racket and the floor. It was pressed so flat I was surprised it wasn’t dead already.

“We need a jar or something to keep it in,” J.B. said as the demon tried to wriggle out of the cage Nathaniel had made.

“There’s that empty plastic container from Costco that had all those cheese puffs in it,” Beezle said. “I don’t think it went out to the recycle bin yet.”

“You ate all those cheese puffs already?” I shouted after him as he went upstairs to get it.

“Where do rat-demons come from?” I asked Nathaniel.

“They don’t ally themselves with any particular creature or particular court. They’re mercenaries, willing to work for whomever will feed the nest,” he said.

I crouched down and looked in the thing’s beady black eyes. Up close it appeared less ratlike and more like a demon. What I had thought was fur was actually tiny scales. It stared at me with such malice that I felt goose bumps break out. “So how do we talk to it? Don’t we need a translator or something?”

“No,” Nathaniel said. “It can understand every word we say. And the squeaking is for effect. It can speak English, and just about any other language you can think of.”

I suppressed my revulsion and leaned a little closer. “Who sent you?”

14

THE VOICE THAT CAME FROM THE CREATURE’S MOUTH was high-pitched and eerie. “A horror that you cannot imagine, Madeline Black.”

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard that before,” I said, sitting back on my heels.

Nathaniel pressed down harder on the netting and the demon squealed even louder. “Answer the question.”

“You’re going to squash it,” Jude said mildly, but he didn’t sound like that would be particularly upsetting.

Beezle returned with Samiel in tow. My brother-in-law carried the cheese puff container. A few tiny holes had been punched in the red lid so the monster wouldn’t suffocate.

Samiel opened the top of the jar and kneeled on the floor next to Nathaniel.

Quick as lightning, Nathaniel lifted the racket, grabbed the rat-demon’s tail and dropped it inside the jar. Samiel screwed the top closed while the thing was still scrabbling around inside.

“Who sent you?” I repeated.

The rat-demon ignored me. It bared its teeth and started scraping at the plastic.

“Can it chew its way out?” I asked the room in general.

“Probably,” Beezle said. “A regular Chicago alley rat can chew through concrete.”

“That is disgusting,” J.B. said.

“Yeah, and you’d better wash your hands,” I said to Nathaniel. “The gods know where that thing has been.”

Nathaniel scowled. “I’ll be right back.”

“We really can’t use magic on this thing?” I said.

“It would be pointless,” Beezle said. “It’s too small to be affected.”

“Well, that’s annoying,” I said. “You’re the one who told me that most things don’t like…”

I trailed off, and Beezle’s eyes gleamed.

“Yeah,” he said. “That ought to do it.”

“What?” Jude asked.

“Bring that thing upstairs,” I said to Samiel, and led the parade up to my apartment. Nathaniel joined the crowd in my kitchen a few moments later.

I rummaged through my pantry until I found an old sauté pan that I wouldn’t mind throwing away afterward. Then I put it on my gas stove and turned the flame underneath very high.

“Put the jar in the pan,” I said to Samiel.

He looked slightly revolted, but he did it.

The demon squealed some more, frantically scratching at the sides of the jar with its claws.

“This is going to smell,” J.B. said.

“And it will probably set off the smoke detectors,” Nathaniel added, taking the detector in the hallway down and opening the case to release the batteries.

Jude opened all the windows in the kitchen, letting in the frigid air from outside as the acrid odor of burning plastic filled the air.

“I can’t help but feel like we’ve reached some kind of low,” Beezle said. “We’ve got an angel, a half-breed nephilim, a werewolf, a gargoyle and a couple of Agents of unusual bloodline, and we’re all standing around the kitchen watching a rat-demon get burnt.”

“You’re not wrong,” J.B. said.

“You wouldn’t think it’s a low if that creature had escaped back to its master with information you’d thought was confidential,” Nathaniel said. “Or if it had completed its mission and then returned with the remainder of its nest.”

“I would burn the house down before I would live here with a rat infestation,” I said.

“Given your penchant for burning buildings, this does not surprise me in the least,” Beezle said.

The bottom of the jar started to melt as the heat in the pan increased. The demon screamed as its clawed feet were scorched. The air blowing in from outside barely disguised the stench of burning chemicals mixed with rat. Smoke billowed around the kitchen, and we all covered our faces with our sleeves.

“Let me out, let me out, LET ME OUT!” the demon screamed.

“Who sent you?” I repeated for the third time.

“Antares! Antares!” it said.

“So he is still alive, then,” I said. “Is he working with Azazel? Are they together now?”

The rat screeched in pain as the jar began to melt more rapidly. Hot plastic dripped from the top and sides onto the demon’s scales.

“Let me out, let me out!”

“Where is Antares?” I demanded.

“In the Forbidden Lands!” the rat-demon screamed.

“Is Azazel with him?” I asked.

“No! No! Let me out! Let me out!”

“Where is Azazel?” I asked.

The rat-demon howled. Its legs were almost entirely encased in melted plastic, and I think its feet were attached to the bottom of the pan.

“Where is Azazel?” I repeated.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! I told you what you wanted to know—now let me out!”

“I never said I would let you out,” I said.

The rat-demon’s eyes widened in terror. The six of us stood and watched as Antares’ minion was killed by inches.

It took a long time. Jude went to open more windows.

When it was nothing but a blackened husk, Nathaniel scooped up the pan and took it outside to the Dumpster in the alley.

“I feel dirty,” Beezle said as Nathaniel came back inside.

“Yeah, it doesn’t exactly feel like a victory, does it?” I said tiredly.

The back of my neck tingled, and again I had the sensation of being watched.

“Let’s get the windows closed,” I said. “And, Nathaniel—is there some way to put a veil over us so no one can eavesdrop from outside?”

“Paranoid much?” Beezle asked.

“I don’t think it’s that outrageous. We just had a rat-demon in our house trying to spy on us for Antares,” I said. “I’d rather our plans were not generally known.”

“It can be done, yes,” Nathaniel said. “But we would all have to stay in the same area, under a bubble, so to speak.”

“Let’s all sit around the dining room table,” I said.

“If we’re sitting at the table, then we should bring snacks,” Beezle said. “It only makes sense.”

“How much popcorn did you eat while I was out?” I asked.

Samiel held up three fingers. He snuck the last bowl when I wasn’t looking.

“You don’t need any snacks,” I said.

We all collected around the table, and Nathaniel cast the spell. I had the uncomfortable sensation of my ears popping as the veil surrounded us, and I cracked my jaw so I could hear properly.

They already knew about Azazel and the vampire attack, so I filled everyone in on Sokolov’s threats at the Agency. J.B. seemed shocked.

“I can’t believe they sent him personally to threaten you,” he said. “They must really think you’re high-risk.”

“I don’t intend the Agency any harm,” I said. “I don’t know why they won’t leave me alone.”

“You’re a danger to their order,” J.B. said. “If they let you run wild, then other Agents might start getting ideas about defying their authority.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care about the Agency and their control issues except to the extent that they get in my way. I think somebody followed us home,” I said.

It makes sense that they would have you under surveillance, Samiel said.

“It’s a waste of resources. Why follow me and wait for me to screw up? Why not use every available Agent to find their missing coworkers?” I said.

“Because…” J.B. began.

“I know—they don’t want to get involved. We don’t need to go over it again. It pisses me off. There are two things we need to focus on now. The first is finding the Agents. The second is finding Azazel.”

“With any luck they’ll be in the same place,” Jude said.

“Have you tried asking Lucifer for help?” Beezle asked. “Because you’re his Hound of the Hunt.”

“Yeah? So?”

“If he ordered you to find Azazel, you would be compelled to hunt him until you found him, and you would have the knowledge to help you do so,” Beezle said.

I stared at him. “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier? I would have asked Lucifer to help me when he was here last instead of taking me to Titania and Oberon. And I wouldn’t have bothered with that debacle at Azazel’s mansion.”