He laughed, a guttural sound that came from low in his throat. When the laughter faded, he studied me for several long seconds, face cunning and speculative. “Okay. I’ll talk to you.” He pushed the door open. “Come on in.”

I gingerly stepped into his living room. The place was a disaster. Dirty dishes were piled on the coffee table, the remains of food hardened and crusty. Dust coated every piece of furniture, and the wood floor looked like it hadn’t been swept since the last century. Uneasily, I wondered if my new human-like body was susceptible to germs.

Several books were piled on the couch, their covers meant to look sinister in shades of black and red with drawings of pentagrams. It put me in mind of Evan’s faux Satanic accoutrements, though as hard as it was to believe, Evan had a thousand times more class than this guy.

Greg offered me neither a chair nor refreshments, which was fine by me. He stood in front of me, arms crossed. “Well? What do you want to know?”

“I want to know if you’ve done any demon summoning lately.”

“Not that any demons have been summoned, of course.”

“This is speculative,” I replied with a simpering smile. I studied as much of his home as I could while I spoke. Beyond him, I could see an equally messy kitchen with a gas stove and magnet-covered refrigerator.

“You think if I’d summoned a demon, I’d be living like this? Fuck, I’d have plasma-screen TVs and concubines.”

I recalled the discussion with my friends, noting that any human who’d summoned Jerome would simply keep the demon hidden and not use it for personal gain and errands. Still, if Greg had summoned Jerome on behalf of another demon, there would have been some reward involved. Maybe it wouldn’t entail TVs or concubines, but it seemed like there’d be some sign of a windfall here. Maybe he’d gotten a Swiss bank account.

“Okay. You know anyone who recently acquired concubines?”

“Nope. But I can give you some names of people who’d be more likely.” He listed two of the magicians I’d already visited.

“I’ve talked to them.”

“Sorry. Not my problem.”

My eyes returned to the books on the couch. I stepped toward them. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

I picked up one of the books, skimming through it in hopes of finding information about summoning. Nope. It was fluffy “evil” stuff, exactly like the Army of Darkness’ propaganda. The second book proved the same. The third, however, was a legitimate spell book, filled with the kind of dark rites Dante practiced. Hopeful, I flipped through the pages one by one. It had some vile contents, but there was nothing about summoning. Greg’s willingness to let me browse the books should have been a tip-off that they contained nothing of use.

“All done?”