“Sure you do,” I said, adding a sprinkle of cheer to my voice. “I’m like crack. People don’t want to like me, but once they get a taste, they always come back for more.”

A nasally groan oozed out of her. “Why can’t I quit you?”

“I just told you. I’m like crack. You never listen.” When she groaned again, I laughed. “Cook, I told you not to give up caffeine just because I had to. It’s hardly fair for you. We can get two coffeepots. Mr. Coffee has been saying he wants a friend anyway. And I think by friend he means he wants a profile at Match.com.” I winked conspicuously at her.

“Or,” she said, jumping to show me something she’d printed out. “We can get one of these newfangled single-cup brewers. Then you just buy the different kinds of coffee. They have flavors and everything.”

I snatched the paper out of her hand. “What mad genius is this?”

“They’ve been around for years now.”

“It’s brilliant. I’ve never seen anything so brilliant.”

“No,” she said, erasing the air. “I can do this. It’s just two weeks, right? What’s two weeks in the grand scheme of things?” She leaned back and put the ice pack on her head.

“Well, a lot if you have work to do. Any updates?”

“No. And please step back. If my brain explodes, I don’t want you to get any brain matter on your D and Gs.” She loved my Dolce & Gabbanas. Sadly, I loved them more.

“Aw, that’s so considerate.”

“This is like the worst hangover I’ve ever had.”

“Not so. The worst one involved your head in my toilet for seven hours while you moaned the chorus to ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.’”

“Oh, yeah. Freaking tequila.”

“Right? So, I kind of just healed a kid.”

She straightened again. “Charley, really?”

“Yeah. It was pretty amazing. To know that he is going to live. I’ve never felt such purpose.”

“But you really healed someone? I mean, you can do that?”

“Apparently,” I said with a shrug.

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? Lay your hands on me, baby.” She leaned back in her chair and spread her arms wide.

“I don’t think it works on just anyone.”

“And I’m not just anyone. Come on, give it your best shot.”

I giggled as I watched her wait. When she did her motherly glare thing, I finally leaned over and put an index finger on her head. “Resarci,” I said, and waited.

Cookie blinked and then shook her head to test it, at which point she clawed at her temples with both hands and groaned. “You’re not even trying. Put your back into it.” She reclined again.

“I just don’t think it works this way. I think your illness has to be pretty dire.”

She plopped her elbows on her desk and pointed to her head. “You think this isn’t dire? You think my brain is somehow expendable?”

“I didn’t say expendable.”

Draping herself over her desk melodramatically, she put the ice pack on the back of her neck.

“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?”

“We still have the suicide-note victims. But Robert said they may have found something.”

“Really? He didn’t tell me.”

“Yeah, he said to put that case on the back burner for today while they work this lead.”

“Hmm, okay. What next?”

“We have Amber’s carnival in a couple of hours. Besides that, you don’t have anything until tomorrow morning. You’re meeting with the priest at the Amityville house.”

“Sweet. A possessed house that knows my name. But this whole two hours of free time is weird. I never have free time.”

She pulled herself up onto her elbows again. “No, I never have free time. You have all the free time in the world, which is why you make paper airplanes out of my memos.”

“Good point. And that’s another reason why you need to get back to work. Chop, chop. I’m not paying you barely enough to survive on for you to drool uncontrollably on your desk.”

15

Lead me not into temptation.

Follow me instead! I know a shortcut!

— T-SHIRT

Two hours later, Cookie, Reyes, Osh, and I found ourselves roaming the halls of the Roadrunner Middle School during Carnival. It was their big annual fund-raiser for library books and educational field trips. A noble cause, but I could’ve done without the moans of agony from my sidekick. She was really taking the whole caffeine withdrawal hard. While I, on the other hand, had grown quite fond of the blood of Satan. A little creamer, a dash of sweetener, and voilà! Fake coffee. I could live with it for the next eight months or so until Beep decided to make her grand entrance.

“I’m not saying I’m going to resent Beep for the loss of my girlish figure,” I said to Cook, who was only half listening through the fog of agony, “but seriously, have you seen my ass?”

“Charley!” Amber said, waving us over. She was wearing a long blue veil with gold trinkets dangling off it, and she had on heavy liner and a stark smattering of blush for effect.

Quentin stood beside her, a tall, beautiful, blond-haired blue-eyed devil who made Amber’s heart go pitter-patter. I’d met him when a demon had decided to possess him to get to me, because Quentin could see things others couldn’t. Namely, my light.