They both came back with nothing, and Thomas pulled his magickal ace, one of the earth charms he’d brewed and stored before they’d left the Coven on this errand. He took a black pen out of his back pocket and, muttering another incantation, basically words that he’d imbued with his own power, wrote a symbol of his own devising on the door. Earth magick was all about intention and the ability to channel magick though words and symbols of the witch’s choosing. This spell was designed to muffle sound. Immediately after he’d finished marking the powerful charm, the release of the stored magick immediately diminished his strength, straining his body.

Once he was happy with his handiwork, he stepped back and drove his boot into the door until the lock broke through the jamb and swung open. Thanks to the charm, no sound alerted the neighbors.

The subtle scent of demon wafted out from the condo. Both of them flattened their backs against either side of the door at the same time in response. That smell brought back the horror of the previous night.

He glanced at Isabelle and saw her face had taken on a greenish cast. He wasn’t much better off.

When no demon roared through the doorway at them, they entered cautiously, Thomas making sure he went first. The interior, despite the odor, looked like a model home. The furniture, artwork, and area rugs all looked like they’d been selected by an interior designer. The place was spotless, too. Thomas could see not one thing misplaced, not a smear on the glass table or any of the mirrors, nothing.

“It’s almost like he doesn’t live here,” said Isabelle, taking the words from his mouth. “Where does he get his money anyway? I doubt he holds down a job, right?”

Thomas shrugged. “He’s a demon. I’m sure he’s got lots of ways. He can manipulate this dimension in ways we can’t. That’s why the Duskoff covet them.”

Thomas went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Inside laid package after package of hamburger and steak, all past expiration. According to Micah, that was a demon’s favorite meal, slightly spoiled raw meat. “Well, he’s eating here. The refrigerator is filled with demon snacks.”

“Yuck!” called Isabelle from somewhere else in the condo. “I know Micah said that a human woman fell in love with a demon way back then…but how could she stand to watch him eat?”

“Or stand his breath,” he answered. “Or just the simple everyday scent of him when he’s not masking.”

“Bleh. No kidding,” Isabelle called from the bedroom. He could hear her opening and slamming shut drawers. “Of course way back then everyone smelled bad.”