Page 17 of Paws & Order

I shake it off, roll my shoulders, and prepare a speech for Liza about listening to her instincts and that just because she's got a demon mayor on speed dial doesn't mean she's bulletproof.

At 9:43, the porch light flicks on.

The door opens, and there she is.

Liza, in civilian mode, hair loose and cat in her arms, looking like she's been waiting for me to check in and is already annoyed it took this long.

"You're making a scene," she says, her voice low and a little tired.

"Good," I reply. "Scenes are hard to ignore. Means we're doing our job."

She eyes my entourage.

"Is that Alaric?"

He waves with a little flourish.

"Evening, Liza."

She narrows her eyes but says nothing.

I step forward, tilting my head like I'm checking her for injuries.

"Can I come in for a minute?"

She rolls her eyes, but she lets me through the door.

Gomez shoots past my feet, then loops back to weave figure eights around my boots as I wipe the dew off my sleeves.

Her apartment is small but not in a bad way—just compact, built for efficiency, nothing wasted.

The air is heavy with the scent of the bakery takeout they'd delivered earlier, and on the kitchen table is a short stack of paperwork beside a mug that says NOT TODAY, SATAN.

She waits for me to sit, then hovers for a second, less city administrator and more... something else.

"You're sure you're not hungry?"

I shake my head.

"Already ate. Even the coffee here is setting off a new ulcer."

I take a seat, and she does too, curling both feet under her like she's bracing for an argument that history has already decided for her.

We sit for a minute, her cat on the table between us.

Liza curls her hands around the mug, then looks up.

"Did you find anything?"

"We're working with what we have. Whoever did this, they're careful. Left almost no trace. But Zadok thinks it's someone with a personal grudge or a very weird sense of romance."

She makes a face.

"It doesn't feel like romance."

"Most obsessions don't," I say.

"Do you have enemies?"