Carter flagged down a waitress and ordered a plate of panang curry and Thai iced coffee. Afterward, he tapped the table lightly with his finger, face drawn and thoughtful. “I can tell you how it’s done,” he said at last. “But I can’t do much more. This is your side’s business, not ours. We’re not supposed to interfere.”

“Dispensing information isn’t the same as interfering,” I said.

He smiled. “Depends on your definitions. And your people are great at finding loopholes and technicalities.”

“Yeah, but . . . Carter . . .” I sighed. “I don’t really have anyone else.”

Even if I’d had full succubus charisma going, I don’t think it would have worked on him. But I still had some sort of Georgina charisma that he was susceptible to. He liked me and was concerned about my life, even if he had a funny way of showing it sometimes.

The Thai iced coffee appeared, and he paused to take a drink. “Okay. Here’s how it works. Basically, a demon gets summoned into an object, and with enough magic, the demon becomes bound to that and is trapped. You’ve heard stories about genies, right? Well, they’re kind of variations on this principle. Humans who summon demons into objects can then occasionally release the demon and make them run errands.”

“But this one’s keeping Jerome locked up.”

“Right. Which makes it harder. What makes it harder still is that if this human has any sense at all, they’ve got the object hidden in a place of power.” He took another sip and waited for me to process this.

I knew what he was talking about. The earth was covered in places of power—sacred sites, ley lines, magic-infused spots. Anyone sifting through mythology would come across countless references to them and the roles they’d played in human history. There was just one problem with it.

“There are dozens of those in Seattle,” I said slowly.

Carter nodded. “Yup. And even if you find the right one, the power in that place is going to help mask the power coming from the bound demon. For you? Gonna be nearly impossible without your usual senses. You need another immortal to help, the stronger the better. Or possibly a human psychic.”

I groaned. “But you can’t help, and none of the demons will.” The panang curry arrived, and Carter devoured it with enthusiasm. “Putting that aside, let’s suppose I find this object, whatever it is. Then what?”

“Mmm, that’s hard too,” he said. “A greater immortal could just break it open.”

“But not me.” I was beginning to see how this worked, and it wasn’t encouraging.