The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files by Gini Koch Page A

and always scary.”
    “Devil worshippers?” I heard Jack ask as I went back to my weapons room and rummaged around. So everything wasn’t perfectly hung or organized or cataloged, or whatever. Werewolves didn’t need a card catalog to find what we wanted, that’s what our noses were for.
    “Yes,” Maurice said with a sigh. “But again, Satan’s Yahweh’s servant. He appears to everyone who calls on him, and then explains how things are.”
    “Really?” Jack was back to sounding fascinated.
    “Yeah.” I came back laden with weapons. “Some, like Martin, catch on.”
    “Martin Luther didn’t call on the Devil!”
    Maurice and I exchanged a look. “No,” I said slowly. “He didn’t. He did, however, try to banish Satan, and so, essentially, called on him. It was complicated, but I’m sure Martin will be glad to explain once we’ve handled this latest takeover bid by the Supreme Evil One. And all that.”
    “I’m just curious,” Jack muttered.
    “Anyway,” Maurice went on hurriedly. “The ones who chat with Satan and still want to commit their souls to evil send said souls right to the Prince.”
    “Okay.” Jack sounded doubtful. “I don’t get it with demons.”
    “Demons, like humans, come from a different plane of existence. If they’re good demons, they support a god and that’s who their soul belongs to, in addition to themselves. If they’re bad demons, their souls go to the Prince.” Maurice looked at me. “Beautiful but dumb?”
    “Tired and overwhelmed.” I shook my head. “You’re just so old you’ve forgotten what it was like.”
    “Darling,” Maurice said as he swished to the door. “I was so happy to discover I didn’t have to continue to fight in the war and hide from the British, I had no transitional problems whatsoever.”
    “Which war?” Jack asked as Maurice opened the door and headed out.
    “Revolutionary. Ghastly times, just ghastly. I’ll say this -- nothing trumps indoor plumbing and central heat and air, nothing.” With that, the door closed and he was gone.

Chapter 22
     
    I had the weaponry out, but getting it to the car was going to prove a little exciting, since we had to slide back to Prosaic City.
    “Seriously, we can both barely carry all this stuff,” Jack protested as I put another crossbow on the stack he was holding. “How’re we going to explain it if we see someone? And do we really need it all or are you just a typical woman and you over-pack for all occasions?”
    “Yes, we need it.” Well, we might need it. And better to be prepared. What if the one thing that would stop the Prince was my Evil Fairy Repellent and we didn’t have it with us? I grabbed another can and shoved it under Jack’s arm.
    Laden for ancient gods, bear, warlock and potentially the Supreme Evil, I slid us across. Jack impressively didn’t drop anything. He didn’t stop muttering, either, but I let it pass.
    The only beings on the top floors of the Prosaic City building were other undercover agents. So waiting for the elevator was no issue. However, we all could and did get human visitors, so being sure the coast was clear was still a necessity. Werewolf senses being what they were, it was easy for me to wait until I knew we had a clear elevator.
    We loaded in and I pushed the special button that only those with top floor access had -- the Express button. We headed down to the parking garage with no stopping. Once there, however, I had to do the intent sniff and listen thing. There were a lot of human tenants going out and a few coming in. Fortunately there were several elevators and there was another special button for top floor folk -- the Door Sealed button.
    After holding the elevator for a long ten minutes, the garage was clear and we headed to the car. Jack dumped the stuff in the trunk and moaned. “I don’t think I can move my arms. Hopefully nothing attacks us until I get the feeling back in my fingers.”
    “Give me the keys, I’ll