Trent patted Ray, the little girl finally having stopped crying. “If I’m not mistaken, he works for ... the I.S.?” Trent guessed.

“The FIB, actually,” Al said, and I sank down into a chair at the breakfast nook. “I chose the FIB over the I.S. because the I.S. currently functions on decisions from old white vampires who have lost touch with the ever-changing social structure and are slowly losing power. Progress and all.”

Thunderstruck, I blinked. “You work for the FIB?”

Al tugged his suit coat straight. “I accepted a request to investigate the damage to your church initially, but I like it and I needed a job on the rental agreement other than former emperor of China.” Trent was chuckling, but I failed to see anything funny.

“I get to push people around, poke my nose where I want, and no one stops me. At least not more than once,” Al finished with a familiar evil smile.

Tired, I rubbed my forehead. “Did they give you a bright shiny badge?”

Al flushed, but I figured they had when he touched a breast pocket. That explained the weird questions he’d asked me earlier. Maybe he’d tell me how my case was going if I asked.

“I think that’s commendable,” Trent said, and Al’s face twitched. “Quen, I left my wallet at Cormel’s.”

My God, he was going to pay the demon.

With a final pinch to tell Jon to behave himself, Quen let go of Jon. The taller man rocked into a sitting position, rubbing his shoulder as he slowly got up. Quen reached for his wallet, reminding me that my shoulder bag with my phone, keys, and splat gun were still at Cormel’s as well.

“Commendable,” I grumped. “Like me trying to get the world to accept demons.”

Trent took the cash that Quen handed him, easily jiggling Ray on his hip to have two hands free. “Who else will keep them in line?” he said as he handed most of it to Al. “You?”

Elbow on the table, I shook my head. “Heck no. Al, you can have the job.”

Trent faced the demon. “Thank you for the return of Ray,” he said calmly, but I could tell he was annoyed, not at Al, but himself.

“I can’t believe you’re paying him for that,” I grumped.

“Rachel ... ,” Trent admonished, and I stood. Ray was reaching for me, and I went to get her. She looked miserable, far too aware of what was going on for her age.

Al looked at the folded money in his grip, never opening it to count it. “This is the damnedest way to run an economy.”

I rocked Ray, the little girl snuffling pitifully, her grip on me tight and endearing. “Better than blackening your soul.”

Al’s expression became blank. “I fail to see the difference.”