“So that’s why we need this angel gift. Hook up with her last partner and we’ll see what the Nix is up to now. This is where my necromancer will come in handy. With her help, I can dig through recent cases of female murderers…” I looked over at Trsiel. “The Fates showed me two past partners. Both serial killers. Both with male partners. Is that the Nix’s MO?”

Trsiel frowned.

“Her usual method,” I said.

He shook his head and stretched his legs. “Coincidence. But you’re on the right track. Two partners, two sets of sensational murders—”

“Headline-grabbers. Nixen, like most demons, get off on chaos. The more chaos, the more payoff. The crimes will be front-page news. So I should look for women accused—” I stopped. “But if they’ve been accused, they’ve probably been caught, and this Nix must have learned a thing or two about hiding her crimes by now.”

“She may, but she doesn’t bother. For her—”

“The more chaos, the more payoff. Right. Commit a few nasty murders, cover your tracks and move on, and people will forget. Let the killer get caught—or make sure she does—and you double your fun.”

He arched his brows. “You have an innate sense of—”

“Let’s just say the Fates didn’t pick me for my charm.”

How much did he know about me? Dumb question, I suppose, considering what that “gift” of his did. But if it bothered him, he hid it well.

“So I’ll find the partner, then you move in and do your thing.”

“That’s probably what the Fates had in mind. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t help—”

“Thanks, but this I can handle.”

He hesitated, as if this wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. “Yes, well, don’t worry about whittling the list down too much. I can help with that. I’ve dealt with this Nix.”

When I looked up in surprise, he shrugged, and continued. “A couple of times…briefly. First when I brought her in—”

“You’re the one who captured her?”

“It was more a delivery than a capture. I was sent to retrieve the witch she first inhabited.”

“And the second time?”

“Hmmm?”

“You said you met her a couple of times.”

He hesitated. “Right. Well, there’s not much to tell about that one. No capture or delivery involved, unfortunately.” He got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to your investigating, then. If you want anything, just whistle.”

“You know how to whistle, don’t you?” I said, in my best Lauren Bacall voice.

As the words left my mouth, I mentally slapped myself in the forehead, expecting Trsiel to turn to me with that confused frown he’d given when I’d said “MO.” Instead, he smiled.

“Bogie and Bacall,” he said. “To Have and Have Not.”