I didn’t know much about the Albany criminal underbelly, but I had assumed deals went down in dive bars and smoke-filled billiard halls. The notorious Julius Fenton did not reside in either of these places. Instead, he was a manager at the Build-A-Bear workshop in Crossgates Mall. I wish I was joking.
Michael circled the inside of the mall as my back up. Fenton would be able to sense him, but we had heard that he worked both the angel and the demon circuit, so for the right price he would sell us the information. It wasn’t exactly against the rules for demons to be stoolies, after all. Sin was sin. Didn’t matter who they betrayed.
The mall closed in an hour, so I straightened my shoulders and walked into the shop, keeping an eye for anything suspicious. Cute little girls and boys tugged their mothers and fathers by the hand, their new best friends ready to be stuffed and clothed. It felt too weird for words.
An Asian boy in his teens smiled at me as I walked up to the register. “Hi. How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if your manager, Mr. Fenton, was in?”
“Sure, he’s in the back getting ready to close up. I’ll grab him for you.”
“See,” Michael said from the link in my ear. “Was that so hard?”
“Your sarcasm is really not helping me,” I muttered, tapping my fingers on the counter as I waited. We had borrowed the miniature microphone and ear bud from one of Michael’s cop friends. It made me feel like I was in an action flick, waiting for Arnold Schwarzenegger to burst in and beat up the bad guy. I watched way too many movies.
The boy returned with an older Japanese fellow with grey hair and deep frown lines in his forehead. Furthermore, he didn’t have the same uniform as the kid. His navy suit was expensive and pressed to perfection. Not what I expected. Then again, were demons ever predictable?
His brown eyes widened as he spotted me. “What can I do for you, young lady?”
I took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about a specific order for an important client.”
He searched my face for a long moment and then waved a hand. “Sure. Come with me. I’ll just be a moment, Kevin.”
I followed him to his office in the back, wiping my sweaty palms on the legs of my jeans as I went. No one jumped out to grab me. That was definitely a first.
He closed the door behind us when we reached his office and took a seat, eying me. “So you’re the Seer.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I waited for him to say something else.
He tilted his head a bit and continued. “Thought you’d be taller.”
I bristled. “I’m average height, thank you very much. Should we get down to brass tacks?”
Fenton spread his hands. “What do you want? Clearly it’s not to take me in, or you’d have brought the pretty boy with you.”
“Okay, I changed my mind. Shoot him,” the archangel said. I almost smiled. I was the only person allowed to call him that, apparently. Instead, I kept my face blank. “We want to know if someone tried to fence the museum items stolen yesterday morning. We’re prepared to make a generous offer if you cooperate.”
“Oh? Have the archangels gotten so desperate that they would directly fund an illegal operation?” He folded his hands on the desk and tapped his thumbs together.
“I wouldn’t put it that way. More like choosing the lesser of two evils.”
“How so?”
I shrugged. “Well, they could either pay you, no muss, no fuss, or kidnap you and torture the information out of you.”
Fenton tossed his head back, letting out a bark of laughter. “An angel? Torturing a demon? I’d like to see that.”
“He keeps this up, and he might,” Michael growled in my ear. I bit my lip to stop a second smile. The grumpy Peanut Gallery was not making this any easier.
“The offer’s on the table. What d’you say?”
The demon dug his pinky finger inside his ear, giving me nothing but a cool look for a handful of seconds. “Well, my pockets are a bit light these days. Ten thousand bucks and I can give you what you need.”
“Which is?”
“The occupation of the person who ordered the break-in. I’m not exactly in the know these days, but I do keep my ears open.”
“So they didn’t try to fence the weapons to you?”
“Nope. Didn’t try with any other of the low level fencers in town either. They want the stuff here in Albany for a reason.”
“And that would be…?”
He smirked. “Money first, jou-chan.”
I scowled at the term. I’d watched enough anime to know what it meant—the equivalent of “young missy.” I dug into my jacket for the already-signed check from Gabriel. I wrote in the amount and handed it to him. He took a moment to verify its validity and then spoke again.
“Word is that there’s an archdemon in town. Not sure who yet. He or she has plans to bump off the pretty boy to give our side the advantage. All I know is they’re a doctor.”
“What kind of doctor?”
“Don’t know. Don’t much care. None of my business anyway.”
“We just paid you ten grand for some vague crap that anyone could have said. You’ve gotta give me some kind of details.”
Fenton’s eyes narrowed and Michael chimed in. “Easy, Jor.”
I tried again, keeping my voice level. “Is it Belial?”
“No. He’s still down below after you and the angels smoked him.”
Some of the tension in my back relaxed. I was safe for now. “Do you know when any of this is going down?”
“Before the week’s out. I’d be careful if I were you, jou-chan.”
“Thanks.” I cocked my head to the side, murmuring into the mic. “Anything else you need me to ask?”
“No. That’s good enough. Let’s not test our luck.”
I left the office, letting out a relieved sigh as I exited the shop. Michael met me at the food court and we headed outside into the cool night air.
“Is it really okay to pay off a demon? Sounds sketchy even to me.”
Michael clucked his tongue. “O, ye of little faith. It’s not a normal check. It’s got a microchip with a tracker inside it. The second he goes back to his lair to store it with all his other ill-gotten gains, a strike team’ll take him out. He won’t go away forever because he’s got good lawyers, but it’ll keep him off the streets for a while.”
“Impressive. So what now? All we’ve got is confirmation, no real details.”
“I’ll start digging to see what I can find on his doctor claim. In the meantime, we’ll help Jacob cross over tomorrow.”
“Busy week.”
“Isn’t it always?”
He nudged my shoulder, giving me a fond look. “You did good in there. Maybe you should’ve been a cop instead of a waitress.”
“Nah. Outfit’s too uncomfortable.”
Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise. “When were you in a cop uniform?”
I flashed him my most mischievous smile as I flagged down a taxi to take us home.