after him. I could see they were both heading to the south porch and was about to go around outside to eavesdrop, when the woman… pulsed.

One second she was a solid, fully materialized form, then she faded a little, becoming slightly translucent, before “firming up” again. No one else noticed. I only did because the ability to spot glamours is yet another part of my angel package.

I concentrated on the woman, trying to see what lay beneath her glamour. For a moment, she was just a woman. Late twenties, dark hair, pale skin. Then her skin went as white as the surrounding marble. Her dark hair began to writhe, snakes slithering through it. Two more snakes encircled her arms and a third acted as a belt. Her short skirt and boots stayed the same, but she accessorized with wings. Put the wings together with the snakes and the huntress costume and there was no doubt what I was seeing. An Erinys. Better known as a Fury.

I zipped out of the temple and around to the south, where I cloaked myself in a cover spell and hid under the row of Caryatids-the marble maidens that stand watch over the porch. I could hear three people above speaking in ancient Sumerian, which sounded like they were waxing poetic on the beauty and majesty of their surroundings… until I realized they were just trying to figure out where to grab lunch. I presumed Stranz and the Erinys were up there, waiting for the others to move on.

Erinyes are, technically, demi-demons. But that’s a catch-all term that basically means “not a ghost or celestial spirit.” Within it, the actual degree of demonic varies wildly. You have creatures like Nix, whose sole purpose is to convince mortals to act on their darkest desires. Clearly demonic. Then you get entities like djinn, who take advantage of human greed and offer a deal that usually won’t go in your favor. More mischievous than evil.

Further along are the Erinyes, who were known by the Greeks as goddesses of vengeance. You call on them to avenge yourself on someone who has wronged you, and by “wronged” I don’t mean “cut off in traffic.” It has to be a serious offense, like murdering a loved one. Erinyes have ethics. Strict ones. However, they aren’t going to talk you into turning the other cheek. That’s why they’re classified as demons. They may intend to mete out justice, but they can wreak serious havoc doing it.

Finally, the Sumerians moved on. And the Erinys moved in.

“Do you have what I need?” she whispered to Stranz.

His voice quavered as he said he did. He passed her what sounded like a piece of paper. I managed to clear a peephole through the porch, but there was no way in hell I could see what was written on the paper the Erinys was now reading.

When she finished, she crushed the paper. Light flashed. She opened her hand, and fine ash drifted to the floor. Great.

“That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” Stranz asked.

“It is. I will do as we discussed.”

Which is…? Come on, guys. Give me something…

Light footsteps crossed the porch, heading back inside. One set of footprints, as the Erinys walked away.

Shit!

I hurried around the building under the cover of a blur spell. I reached the entrance just in time to see the Erinys striding across the main room. She passed behind the three Sumerians, still discussing lunch. I saw her walk behind them… and I didn’t see her come out again. She’d crossed over to another dimension. Which one? I had no idea.

***

I followed Stranz instead, though I didn’t know what good that would do. Clearly the Erinys was the one to stalk now. Her mission of revenge was almost certainly what Kristof was looking for.

As Stranz crossed back into the museum, I tailed him on autopilot as I flipped through my mental Rolodex. There were two Erinyes I could speak to-one was a contact, one owed me a favor. Neither would inform on her sister, but I might be able to get some information about this particular Erinys. I could also dig deeper into Stranz’s afterlife and figure out why he’d need one of the Furies…

Yet in the afterlife, it’s hard to wrong someone so grievously that they could invoke an Erinys. Murder is out of the question, obviously. Possessions are easy enough to come by, and Erinyes don’t avenge mere theft. And what could the demi-demon inflict on a ghost anyway?

Damn. It had to be a wrong committed in the mortal realm. But I couldn’t imagine Stranz had waited thirty years to take revenge for something from his lifetime. Maybe he’d just discovered that someone he cared about had been hurt or killed. But why would that interest an afterlife prosecutor?

My brain was still spinning when I realized that Stranz wasn’t heading for the exit. I probably should have figured that out as soon as I found myself climbing stairs to the second floor, but as a celestial bounty hunter, I’m so accustomed to following people that I don’t need to engage much of my brain to do it. Once up there, Stranz didn’t seem to be sightseeing or heading to a specific destination. He was just wandering-quickly.

Had he spotted me? I saw no evidence of that. He didn’t glance back or duck down rear hallways or try to lose himself in a crowd. He just kept walking. Through Egypt, then over to Iran and Mesopotamia and across Europe.

Between Europe and Ancient Greece, there was a space for temporary exhibits. Today, it was empty. Well, empty of exhibits. Filled with people. A massive tour group milled about like a herd of lost sheep. Stranz could have gone through them or turned back. Instead he veered into a back hall, moving faster now. He turned, then turned again, getting deeper into the warren of halls. Another turn and…

Silence. One second his shoes had been tap-tapping along. Then nothing. I cast a quick cover spell. Had he heard me? Was he lurking around that corner, waiting for his stalker to pass?

Shoes squeaked on linoleum. Stranz stumbled around the corner, as if he’d been shoved out. He glanced back, face tight with annoyance, and muttered something under his breath as he resumed walking.

I let him round the next corner, then hurried down that side aisle. It was a short one, maybe ten feet long, ending at a door marked “Private” and “Please use other entrance.”

I tried the door. It was locked, and an unlock spell didn’t fix that. When I cleared a peephole, I saw a dark storage room with a massive box blocking the door.

What had Stranz wanted in that room?

I’d come back later. For now, I needed to catch up with-

The hall vanished. There was a moment of darkness, no longer than an eye blink, then I was staring at a wall. I turned slowly.

I was in a small, empty room.

The Fates have been known to reach out and grab me. Very inconvenient. But this wasn’t their waiting room, and I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not wrong enough to be worthy of their attention-they’ve learned to employ a sliding scale with me, which slides ever further toward ignoring most of what I do, because calling me on every broken rule is really too much work. On this mission, though, I’d actually been behaving. Was that the problem? I’d gone too long without getting in trouble and they were growing nervous?

No. They wouldn’t dump me in a small, empty room. I’m a little claustrophobic. The Fates can be a pain in the ass, but they’re never cruel. I paced around the room once and-

Another flicker of darkness and I was back in the museum hall. I’d walked into a dimensional slip-just as Stranz must have. Step on the right spot and in you go. Like a magical version of those bookcases that spin into a secret room.

But the secret room had been empty. Was it a dimensional hiccup? An unused pocket? Or had I missed something? Had that pocket been Stranz’s destination? Did that explain why he’d cut through these back halls?

I put my hands out, ready to start looking for that doorway again. Then I stopped. Stranz. He was on the move. This pocket wasn’t going anywhere. I hurried off to find my target.

***

I caught up with Stranz on the far side of the second floor, where he met his former ayami-now his wife. A blur spell got me close enough to hear him apologizing for being late. He’d come up the stairs, turned the wrong way

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