"I was with Claire when she closed h.e.l.l down the last time, I helped integrate a demon into a small town in northern Ontario, and I ..."

"Hawaiian pizza!"

"That wasn't me. And besides, what's wrong with . . ."

"No! I can smell Hawaiian pizza!"

All at once, so could Diana. Spinning around, she scooped Kris' feet out from under her and followed the mall elf to the floor.

Which was when the lights came on ...

. . . and the Shadowlord smacked a large club against the wall right through the s.p.a.ce they'd just vacated.

From her position half sprawled over Kris, Diana could see all four bugs and half a dozen meat-minds waiting motionless in front of the dais. Nearly motionless. One of the meat-minds was chewing in a decidedly guilty way.

Three guesses about what he's eating, and the first two don't count. Diana was fairly certain there were stranger things than feeling grateful to ham and pineapple in tomato sauce, but right at the moment she couldn't think of any.

Grateful wasn't even close to what the Shadowlord seemed to be feeling.

Pivoting away from the wall, he heaved his club at the chewing meat-mind and screamed, "I don't care what your union says about lunch breaks!"

"Union?" Kris asked as the gnarled wood smacked meat-mind skull and the two girls scrambled to their feet.

"Otherworld Pan-dimensional Service Employees Union."

"You're f.u.c.king kidding me."

"Yes. Run!"

"I'm glad to see you're taking me seriously." Dean dropped the pillowcase into the washing machine.

"How's that?"

"I just saw you go through Dr. Rebik's pockets."

"And how is that taking you seriously?" he asked, reaching for the laundry detergent.

Austin jumped onto the dryer, walked over, and peered into the tub. "You're looking for clues."

"I'm looking for tissues."

"To send away for forensic testing?"

"To keep from filling the washing machine with little bits of wet tissue." He closed the lid, checked that the water temperature was on cold/cold, and started the timer. "I know I'll be after regretting this, but what kind of clues did you think I'd find? If Meryat's the bad guy . . . girl . . ."

"Corpse."

Given the look he'd got at her face, that was hard to argue with. ". . . then isn't Dr. Rebik the victim?"

"So?"

"So what kind of clues would he have in his pockets?"

"An amulet controlling his free will. A note written in a moment of clear-headedness begging for rescue. And maybe he's not a victim at all; maybe he's helping her in return for a slice of the world domination pie."

"Maybe I should never have taped that s...o...b.. Doo marathon for you."

"He's a dog," Austin snorted, jumping down and following Dean up the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. "He's not going to notice anything he didn't sniff off someone's b.u.t.t. I'm telling you there was something in the bedroom last night and probably the night before!"

"Okay, let's say there was." Dean bent and lifted the cat up onto the kitchen counter, sanitary issues losing out over the inconvenience of holding a conversation with someone six feet closer to the floor. "But just because you sensed something, that doesn't mean it was Meryat. It's not like this place hasn't had visitors before. Ghosts, imps," he added when Austin merely scowled at him.

"I knew what you meant; I just think you're an idiot." Sitting down, he swept his tail regally around in front of his paws. "I talked to the mice."

After a moment spent trying to match up the end of that declaration to the beginning, Dean surrendered. "Okay."

"The mice," Austin told him in a tone that suggested idiot was actually a little high on the scale, "said that the dead mouse I found in room two was just a kid; six months old, prime of his little rodent life."

"And?"

"Oh, for the love of kibble, would you at least try to connect the dots!" Leaping to his feet, he paced to the end of the counter and back again, his tail covering twice the horizontal distance. "That mouse had his life sucked out right next to the mummy!"

"So you're saying that sucking the life out of that mouse gave Meryat, who can barely walk at the best of times, enough energy to get downstairs and then back upstairs again moving so fast that you couldn't see her? Some mouse."

"You're forgetting her visit to you. The mouse only had to get her downstairs."

"And you don't think I'd notice if a reanimated Egyptian mummy was su . . ." Cheeks flushed, he suddenly decided there'd been a little too much use of the verb to suck in recent conversations. "... absorbing my energy?"

"You spent six months not noticing a hole to h.e.l.l," Austin muttered, "I'm not sure you'd notice if a reanimated Egyptian mummy was doing the Macarena."

"Hey! I'd notice. n.o.body does the Macarena anymore."

"Oh, give her a break! She's been dead for three thousand years, it takes a while to catch up."

"If we're talking three thousand years," Dean snapped, "she'd be doing the hustle!"

The silence that followed was so complete, the distant sound of skateboarders in a neighbor's pool came clearly though the open dining room windows.

"Dude, what's with the water?"

After another long moment during which it became clear that neither skateboards nor skateboarders could float, Dean managed to find his voice.

"Did I just make a disco reference?"

Austin nodded.

"Lord t'underin' Jesus."

Austin nodded again. "If that's not a sign there's evil energies about, I don't know what is."