Henley shirt with a brown leather jacket. We hadn’t spoken during the drive, and the awkward silence was choking me.
“Let me do the talking in there, since he’s my contact.”
He opened his mouth as if to protest, and then he gave a quick jerk of his chin in acceptance. That had been easier than I expected.
Dalton held open the door of the Auto Emporium, and I glanced around in awe. The building was the size of a small hangar bay, and it was full of cars. Dalton came in behind me and picked up a brochure next to the door, paging through it slowly. Then he walked up to the truck sitting to our right and studied the price sticker. He looked like he was shopping for a car. Which I guess was the point.
He was a natural. Since when was he comfortable under cover? The last time he had to play a part, he’d stammered like a junior high boy asking a girl to go steady. Of course, he had been talking to his ex and I was listening in at the time.
An older guy wearing a polo shirt with the Auto Emporium logo rushed up to us. “Have you been helped?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I’m here to see Kevin Doyle.”
The wattage of his smile dimmed. “Hang on a second.” And he left.
A few minutes later, Doyle arrived. His eyes still had a bit of a buggy quality, but I was happy to see he hadn’t let his comb-over grow back.
“Hello. I understand you asked for me. How may I help you?” He spoke in a loud voice, as if announcing to everyone in the building that he was unfamiliar with me.
“I was given your name by a friend who bought a car from you. I’m looking for a new car.”
He peered around like a shoplifter watching out for mall security, and then leaned forward and hissed, “Why are you here? I’m not in the business anymore.”
“I know, but I have an issue, and you could probably point me in the right direction.”
Dalton walked up to us, and I tensed, hoping Misha had been able to reach Doyle.
“Are you two together?” Doyle asked, his right eye twitching.
“Yes,” I replied through gritted teeth. Doyle was terrible at lying, which was why he’d been a mediocre con-demon. His tic was a sure sign he might fold under the pressure.
“Can we talk somewhere more private?” I asked.
Doyle led us to a small room with a table and chairs. He gestured to the chairs and shut the door. “I’m legit now, Kyle. I don’t want to get into trouble with the boss.”
I held up my hands. “I don’t plan to mess things up for you. But we have a big problem, and I need your help.”
He leaned against the door. I took it as a sign to keep talking.
“We have a demon that’s crossed over from the demon realm and killed a human.”
“And?”
“And I want to know how a demon is able to get to earth when the portals are supposedly blocked.”
Doyle stopped leaning and pulled on his collar. “I never dealt in demon trafficking.”
“I’m not saying you did. But I bet you can direct me to someone who does. Come on, Doyle. Help me out, here.”
“You’ve fallen into some serious sh—stuff this time, McKinley. Crossovers are dangerous.”
“But there are border patrols.”
Doyle grimaced. “Oh, yeah. The demon border patrol makes the US Border Patrol look like the Mickey Mouse Club .”
“If they’re that tough, how are the demons getting through?” Dalton asked.
“When you tell someone, human or demon, they can’t do something, they try all the harder to prove it can be done. For enough money, there are ways to open temporary portals to earth. By the time the patrol senses the break, the portal is closed, and the demon is through.”
“Who do we need to talk to, then?” I asked.
Doyle hesitated. “If I tell you, promise me you won’t go in there half-cocked by yourself.”
“She’s not going anywhere without me.”
“No offense, human. But she’s going to need more protection than you.”
“I promise. Misha and Jean Luc will be in on the meeting,” I said.
“You’re going
“Let me do the talking in there, since he’s my contact.”
He opened his mouth as if to protest, and then he gave a quick jerk of his chin in acceptance. That had been easier than I expected.
Dalton held open the door of the Auto Emporium, and I glanced around in awe. The building was the size of a small hangar bay, and it was full of cars. Dalton came in behind me and picked up a brochure next to the door, paging through it slowly. Then he walked up to the truck sitting to our right and studied the price sticker. He looked like he was shopping for a car. Which I guess was the point.
He was a natural. Since when was he comfortable under cover? The last time he had to play a part, he’d stammered like a junior high boy asking a girl to go steady. Of course, he had been talking to his ex and I was listening in at the time.
An older guy wearing a polo shirt with the Auto Emporium logo rushed up to us. “Have you been helped?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I’m here to see Kevin Doyle.”
The wattage of his smile dimmed. “Hang on a second.” And he left.
A few minutes later, Doyle arrived. His eyes still had a bit of a buggy quality, but I was happy to see he hadn’t let his comb-over grow back.
“Hello. I understand you asked for me. How may I help you?” He spoke in a loud voice, as if announcing to everyone in the building that he was unfamiliar with me.
“I was given your name by a friend who bought a car from you. I’m looking for a new car.”
He peered around like a shoplifter watching out for mall security, and then leaned forward and hissed, “Why are you here? I’m not in the business anymore.”
“I know, but I have an issue, and you could probably point me in the right direction.”
Dalton walked up to us, and I tensed, hoping Misha had been able to reach Doyle.
“Are you two together?” Doyle asked, his right eye twitching.
“Yes,” I replied through gritted teeth. Doyle was terrible at lying, which was why he’d been a mediocre con-demon. His tic was a sure sign he might fold under the pressure.
“Can we talk somewhere more private?” I asked.
Doyle led us to a small room with a table and chairs. He gestured to the chairs and shut the door. “I’m legit now, Kyle. I don’t want to get into trouble with the boss.”
I held up my hands. “I don’t plan to mess things up for you. But we have a big problem, and I need your help.”
He leaned against the door. I took it as a sign to keep talking.
“We have a demon that’s crossed over from the demon realm and killed a human.”
“And?”
“And I want to know how a demon is able to get to earth when the portals are supposedly blocked.”
Doyle stopped leaning and pulled on his collar. “I never dealt in demon trafficking.”
“I’m not saying you did. But I bet you can direct me to someone who does. Come on, Doyle. Help me out, here.”
“You’ve fallen into some serious sh—stuff this time, McKinley. Crossovers are dangerous.”
“But there are border patrols.”
Doyle grimaced. “Oh, yeah. The demon border patrol makes the US Border Patrol look like the Mickey Mouse Club .”
“If they’re that tough, how are the demons getting through?” Dalton asked.
“When you tell someone, human or demon, they can’t do something, they try all the harder to prove it can be done. For enough money, there are ways to open temporary portals to earth. By the time the patrol senses the break, the portal is closed, and the demon is through.”
“Who do we need to talk to, then?” I asked.
Doyle hesitated. “If I tell you, promise me you won’t go in there half-cocked by yourself.”
“She’s not going anywhere without me.”
“No offense, human. But she’s going to need more protection than you.”
“I promise. Misha and Jean Luc will be in on the meeting,” I said.
“You’re going
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