On the other hand, he was taking steps to crack down on the ghoulish drug trade, so that was something. And he did appear to be doing his best to assist us. And there was that whole moment-of-emotional-intimacy thing.

On the other other hand, the entire reason the chief had wanted me at Thad Vanderhei’s funeral was to spy out any eldritch presence there. As he’d said, attending a funeral was the sort of thing a ghoul would do, especially if he was the perp. And surprise, surprise, who did I find in attendance? I had only Stefan’s word to explain his presence there, not to mention his assertion that he’d learned nothing. And for all I knew that sense of intimacy I’d experienced was just another predator’s weapon, like a vampire’s hypnosis.

“You speak pretty flawless English for a Polish ghoul,” I said. “And you ride a mean Harley.”

He looked amused. “There are motorcycles in Poland, Daisy, and I spent time paying my dues among the Outcasts’ club before I earned my colors. And over the course of centuries, it is not uncommon to master many tongues.” One eyebrow arched. “As, no doubt, your protective friend Miss Hollister could attest.”

Out of the blue, that gave me an idea. “That glamour-casting pendant of yours. How does it work?”

Stefan looked surprised. “You must hold the image you wish to project in your mind to invoke it.” He touched the crystal lightly. “It cannot fully conceal the truth, merely blur it. I cannot change my likeness entirely, but it allows me to pass as mortal beneath mundane scrutiny at need. Why?”

I eyed the smoky quartz. “Would it work outside of Hel’s domain?”

“For a time,” he said. “No longer than a day or so. Then its magic would begin to fade, as with anything. As below, so above. May I ask again, why?”

“I’d like to borrow it,” I said.

Stefan’s face turned unreadable. “You ask more than you know. I told you it was a gift from a dear friend. It is not the sort of thing to be loaned on a whim.”

“I’m not asking on a whim.” Okay, that was kind of a lie, but I thought it was a pretty good whim. “If you want me to trust you, trust me.”

He hesitated, then nodded at my straw satchel on the booth beside me. “Then give me a token of your trust in trade. Tell me what item hidden in your bag sends a shiver of ice the length of my spine.”

I hesitated, too, but Hel hadn’t said anything about keeping it a secret. “A dagger.”

“What manner of dagger?”

I looked squarely at Stefan. “One capable of killing the undead.”

Even beneath the glamour, he paled. “I see. That explains why I sense its presence.” He inclined his head. “Hel places considerable trust in her young liaison.”