And he had been part of this, hadn’t he. On a worldwide scale, he had perpetrated crimes that had created holes in other people’s lives. Yes, the vast majority of his targets had been evil men, but he knew for a fact that many had had families, and now he wondered what he’d left behind. Even if the paterfamilias had deserved to die, what kind of trickle-down chaos had he created? He knew that a couple of his targets had been renowned for loving their kids: They might have been enemies with dangerous resources on a political calculus, but they hadn’t been bastards at home.

“Shit, Dog . . .” There was a snuffle and then a cold wet nose bumped against his hand. “Yeah, let’s start wading through all this.”

Dog raised his scruffy head and yawned so wide he let out a sound like a hinge squeaking. Then with another snuffle, the mutt rearranged himself in Jim’s lap, curling his little paws in and relaxing.

Jim tried to smooth the fur that had been messed up by the repositioning, but Dog’s wiry coat made that wasted effort. Silly animal always looked like he’d been blown dry by a set of box fans and then hit with four cans of Aqua Net.

Faces . . . names . . . stories . . .

As a moan percolated up from next door, he thought of the last time he’d had sex and got nauseated. The idea that’d he’d come inside his enemy was enough to give his cock a case of the never-again shrivels.

To think the other two had done her as well—

At first, the sensation was hard to place. Something was . . . just off. And then the vague huh-what? coalesced to the back of his neck until he was convinced cold air was being exhaled on his nape.

He wrenched around, but nobody was there. And the chills persisted, flickering down his spine, turning into a fleet of ants that teemed over his back.

Jim got to his feet and set Dog on the carpet.

Isaac, he thought. Isaac and Grier . . .

That house . . .

The spell at the house.

He was out of the hotel and back to Beacon Hill in the work of a moment, landing in the rear garden. The incantation he’d thrown remained in place, the outside of the town house still glowing, and now that he was in range, he knew he’d been right to come.

Devina was here. He could sense her evil, parasitic presence.

And yet everything appeared quiet: Through the plate-glass windows in the back, the kitchen was dark, with nothing but a distant hall light throwing illumination. No shadows moving, no alarm screeching, no guns going off, no screaming.