“Marie-Terese met with the cops and so did the owner.” Vin looked across the car. “They didn’t say anything about us and have no intention to.”

Jim’s eyes shot across the seats. “Not what I was going to ask, but good to know. What about the security cameras?”

“Taken care of.”

“Nice.”

“Don’t get too excited. I told Marie-Terese that if she was going to get compromised, or if there was any pressure on her, she needed to serve us up like a steak.”

“Answer me one thing.”

“What.”

“What are you going to do about Devina?”

Vin crossed his arms over his chest. “Just because I have breakfast with someone—”

“Bull. Shit. And don’t front. What are you going to do.”

“Why do you care?”

There was a long pause. So long that they went through two red lights.

As they accelerated after the second, Jim looked over. His eyes were arresting, positively glowing. “I care, Vin, because I’ve come to believe in demons.”

Vin whipped his head around, and Jim went back to focusing on the road as he continued. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was here to save your soul. I’m beginning to think I got it wrong, though.”

“Got what wrong?”

“Tell me about this fucking Victorian vapors thing you’ve got going on.”

“Wait, what did you get wrong?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to end up with Devina.” The guy slowly shook his head and glanced up into the rearview mirror. “My job is to help you get through this part of your life and end up in a better place. And I’m coming to believe that means you need to be with that woman who…yup, just ran a red light to keep up with us.”

“You should have stopped,” Vin snapped, taking hold of the mirror and yanking it around so he could see Marie-Terese behind the wheel.

She was ten-and-two’ing her hands, and focusing on the M6, concentration tightening her brows. Her lips were moving slightly, as if she were singing a song or talking to herself, and he wondered which one it was.

“So what about this passing-out thing?” Jim prompted. “You’re not surprised about it, are you.”

Vin reangled the mirror. “You ever hear of a medium?”

Jim looked over. “Yeah.”

“Well, I see the future and sometimes I talk when I do. And there’s some other shit, too. So…there you go. And lest you think it’s a fucking party, let me assure you it’s not. I did my best to get it out of me and thought I’d licked it. Guess not.”

When there was just the rising and falling of the M6’s massive engine, he said roughly, “You get points for not laughing.”