These past few nights have been nothing but a river of caffeine and smoke. My colleagues now cover their noses when they pass by me. The glow is fading, and the elmroot feels dry. I haven’t been home in two or three days. Police Records has become my shrine, and my office my hell.

  And there she was, the saint of this place, in her perfectly fitted uniform. Jane could make anyone feel young again if they caught that hopeful smile in this pit.

  “Jane, pass me those files on James Bruno, also known as the Redneck.”

  “Sir, that’s the twenty-fifth file you’ve asked for in just two days.”

  “This case is strange,” I said. “No trail, no pattern. It’s like a perfect crime. I’m combing through his records to find something, anything.”

  She smiled. It was the first one I’d seen in days. “Mind if I ask why bother? Isn’t it good we have one less demon on the streets?”

  I liked her bluntness. “I’d love to agree, but it’s still a crime. We don’t know if the one who did it was a hero. It could just be another takeover. Better to stop it now than celebrate too soon.”

  Her smile faded. I hated seeing it vanish, but that’s the story of this city.

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to lighten the air, “you still look good in that uniform.”

  “Oh my, you shouldn’t say that,” she teased. “What would Mrs. Elmroot think?”

  There it was again. Mrs. Elmroot. The name, I still didn’t know what to do about.

  I left Records and walked toward my office. Chief Harrison’s door stood open, and for a moment I wanted to walk in and hammer nails into his chair, to watch the bastard sit and feel the bite. But I couldn’t. I have a code, and codes are strange things.

  “I’ll see that bastard dead and smile at him,” I muttered quietly.

  I pushed the thought aside and opened the file on my desk. The pages were filled with the worst kind of stories, each one darker than the last. I could almost smell the fear the victims must have felt. My eyes burned, but I kept reading until I stopped cold.

  A missing page.

  Maybe that was the trail I needed to navigate through this fog.

  I went back to Records. “Jane, there’s a page missing. Can you find anything about it?”

  She looked distant but took the file. “Strange. No other file looks like this. Leave it with me. I’ll check.”

  I handed it over and turned to leave, but she caught my hand. “Are you free tonight? I need to ask you something. Dial 777 Café, nine sharp. It’s important.”

  It was unusual for her to ask, but I nodded.

  Elsewhere in the city, Luke was at Sin Haven doing what he did best. He was hunting the killer of his old master.

  The club was alive, dancers swaying and sliding across the stage. Bundles rained down as the crowd chanted, “Strip, strip, strip.” Once, these people might have been the city’s promising youth. Now they were hollowed out by their own demons. Luke wasn’t much different. Degeneration comes for us all.

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  He wasn’t there to preach. He was there to dig through shadows.

  “Claw,” Luke said, “did you notice anything strange lately? Anyone new hanging around?”

  Claw ran this place on paper, but in truth, he had just been Redneck’s dog.

  He sneered. “I don’t care if you’re one of Redneck’s lackeys or a cop. Redneck’s dead. This place is mine now. I answer to no one.”

  Luke smirked. Claw had spent years pleasing Redneck, earned his protection, even sold his own sister to him. Now he wanted to play saint. Luke wasn’t a fan of Redneck, but at least the man never hid what he was.

  Luke kicked Claw in the chest and watched him gasp. “Are you sure about that? The Devil wants the killer. You really think a former lapdog can bark at me?”

  Luke learned something new that night. Cowards piss themselves at the first hint of power.

  “You have two choices,” he said. “Cooperate, or cooperate.”

  “I will, I will, just don’t kill me!”

  A little fear and they all start talking.

  “I saw someone,” Claw said. “Dark-skinned, maybe Indian. He was muttering something, but he never came inside.”

  That was enough to go on. Luke took the lead, not wanting to breathe the same air as Claw any longer.

  Outside, his crew waited.

  “Web, check every record in the city for Indian names,” Luke said. “Crush, gather your guys. Find this man before he disappears. Niro, drive.”

  Web was already typing, hands flying over stolen data streams. Crush made his calls. Niro just smiled into the void.

  “Michelle, babe,” he said to the empty air, “don’t worry. These are just my servants. They still don’t know how to drive. And Rupert, couldn’t you find better men for me?”

  Niro was complicated. Michelle had been his fiancée before she died, and Rupert his butler before his family lost everything. Now they existed only in his mind.

  Back across the city, I looked up at the City Central Clock. Nine sharp. Time doesn’t stop here. It just changes who it hurts.

  Jane was already there, wearing a red dress that hugged her shape like it was made for her. It wasn’t her usual look, and it caught me off guard.

  It was past nine. Each passing minute made me more restless. Curiosity finally got the better of me.

  “So,” I said, “what did you want to talk about?”

  Jane took a breath. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were sharp. “Don’t get this wrong. You’re my friend, and I want us to stay that way, even if you hate what I have to say.”

  I knew it. We’d been flirting, sure, but I didn’t expect her to confess so soon, especially when I looked like a ghost.

  “Jane, I know how you feel, but I don’t think we can go to level two—”

  “I want you to drop this case.”

  We both froze.

  “What did you just say?” we said together.

  “I didn’t know you felt like that,” she said, twirling a strand of her golden hair.

  “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. What were you saying?” I stumbled, trying to patch the silence.

  She sighed. “You have to drop it. That missing page was removed by Chief Harrison’s order.”

  That old fox.

  “Why?” I asked, though I already suspected the Devil’s shadow in it.

  She cleared her throat and mimicked Harrison’s oily tone. “I want that page gone. Darling, don’t ask why. Just know that I said so, and do as I said.”

  I almost laughed, but it caught in my throat. “I appreciate the warning, but I’m stuck. If I drop it, the mayor will come for me. If I don’t, the Chief will. So I keep walking.”

  She looked defeated. I knew she wanted to help, but this city doesn’t give anyone clean choices.

  And there I was, standing in a barren land, fog on one side and fire on the other.

  “Oh Lord,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Someone, anyone. Jesus, Allah, Krishna. Send someone.”

  What I didn’t know was that someone else was walking through that same fog with me. A familiar face. The city breathed between us, a living, rotting witness. And somewhere in that breath, a familiar shadow stirred.