Page 102 of A Shade Too Far
He limped toward the stairs, the miraculously intact eye tucked under his arm. “Let’s get the damn name and location and get out of here before I kill that weasel, Chester.”
Laurent’s clothes were scattered around the basement of the curio shop. His shirt was toast, but I grabbed his shoes and jeans, careful to tuck the pockets with his keys and stuff inside the bundle so I didn’t lose anything.
I hit the top step, bumping into Naveen’s back when he stopped suddenly. Stepping out from behind him, I tracked the trail of blood to the green lizard body and dropped one of Laurent’s shoes.
Chester was dead, his corpse crisscrossed with angry red lacerations. His demon form was much broader than his human one, studded with suckers like an octopus and a few unidentifiable protrusions.
“This can’t have all been for nothing,” I moaned. I ran forward but Naveen grabbed me by the back of my shirt.
“Look.” Wincing, he crouched by the body, moving aside Chester’s untucked and torn shirt to pull a piece of paper out from under one hip.
I peered over his shoulder to read the message, which was smeared with a bloody fingerprint. It glistened against the white paper.
Trusting a demon not to sell you out? Don’t make me doubt your ability to hand over the gloves. It was signed Frances Rothstein.
The Banim Shovavim had struck again.
The other shoe dropped.
