What, exactly, am I looking for again?

Pursing my lips, I tap the fingers of my right hand against my chin and scroll through what seems to be an endless series of files and folders. Nothing here seems to indicate involvement with demons or the Turning. Just quarterly financial reports, contracts, and other mundane stuff that has to do with customer service.

I sigh and rub my eyes. What was I thinking? No one in their right mind would keep files on demons on an employee-wide server.

Would they?

I'm almost at the end of the list when I find what I'm looking for—a simple file named "CLASSIFIED" hidden in revenue reports from twenty years ago.

This has to be it, right?

Scooting the chair around, I position myself so I can jump up easily should they bust down the door. One foot is hooked around the power cord, ready to pull it from the socket. One, two, three ... I double-click on the file, then immediately sweep the cursor up, ready toclose the window at a moment's notice.

Five minutes pass and no one is coming. Do they not monitor their employees' computers or do they think that my mother is accessing these files from wherever she and Dad are in Alaska? Whatever it is, I let another ten minutes go until I'm convinced that I'm safe.

There is only one sub-folder under the classified heading: PROJECT APOPHIS. I click on it and dozens of files appear. Oh, man, I sigh, briefly resting my forehead on the desk. This is going to be a long night.

------------

It's nearly 2 AM according to the little clock in the corner of the computer's taskbar. I've watched what feels like hundreds of hours of footage, growing more horrified with each passing second. All of my life, I thought that my parents were working on finding an alternative source of energy, but it seems that one of those sources involved harnessing demonic energy.

It's the Orcus Institute that is responsible for the Turning and making our lives hell on earth. I've watched the thirty-minute film of scientists chanting over a ring of ancient runes; a woman who looks like Kayleigh's mother stands at their head, holding what appears to be a heavy book. The camera is too far away for me to see what is on those pages, but I have a good guess as to what they do.

Crackling red energy emanates from within the circle as they continue to chant. I stare, transfixed, as they congratulate each other as massive batteries begin to charge in four corners of the room. And then Ehtab rises from the center of the runes, bellowing like an unchained bull and spilling an inky substance like night onto the floor. A whirlwind of dust and heat envelopes the room and the cheers turn into screams. A body thuds against the camera and the video abruptly cuts out.

Then there's a recording some two days later that shows Kayleigh's mother parlaying with the demon lord. Blood and dust cover the floor; the batteries are shattered, leaking fluid and mixing with everything else to create a grisly miasma.

"Serve me and you will be rewarded," I hear Ehtab say.

Under this file is one labeled NEPHILIM.

A massive yawn escapes my lips and I know I should sleep, but there's just so much for me to discover. There must be something here in the hundreds of files on how to stop them ...

My chin dips down as my eyelids slide closed.

A second later—or so it seems—I'm jerked awake by a hissing, crackling sound that comes from the empty bookshelves. Adrenaline surges through my veins and I jump away from the computer, shoving the chair in front of me as protection.

But no one is coming through the door; instead, a small, silvery portal opens on the bottom shelf and two small nut-brown creatures emerge. My mouth drops open at the same time that theirs do.

"You shouldn't be in here!" the taller of the two creatures squeaks gruffly, pointing a stubby brown finger up at me.

I blink and dig my knuckles into my eyes in disbelief. I'm still asleep—that's it. I'm definitely not looking at two twelve-inch-tall, gnome-like humanoids standing on a bookshelf clutching brooms and rags. They stare at me with black button eyes set deep behind a bulbous nose. One sports a mossy beard and mustache, fluffy green hair sticking out beneath a red cap. The other is plump and wears a red kerchief around her head. They're both dressed in housekeeping uniforms the same shade of red that Ehtab seems to favor.

The male shakes his broom at me. "Who are you?" he demands in a thick, Scottish accent. "If you don't tell me right now, I'm going to report you—"

"Wait!" the female exclaims, dropping her rags and clamping down on his arm.

The male shakes free. "What are you doing?" he demands, whirling on her. "She's an intruder!"

"An intruder with blankets and a tray from the kitchens?"

He rolls his eyes. "She could have stolen them."

God help me, I sigh, leaning against the opposite wall. The adrenaline surge is short-lived and I can already feel myself crashing. "Can we save the interrogation for tomorrow?" I whisper, moving slowly over to the computer to close all the files. I'll look at them tomorrow—if I'm lucky, that is. "I'm tired."

I make it as far as the couch before falling onto the cushions, dead asleep.

------------

When I wake up in the morning, I'm surprised to see that someone—or something—has covered me with one of the blankets and propped a pillow beneath my head. What the hell?

Groggily, I push myself into a sitting position and look around the room. The tray's gone and the mysterious someone even unplugged the computer. Even the chair is back in its original spot.

"Good, you're up," a small, deep voice declares.

It's a testament to my training that all I do is flinch instead of scream. My hand reaches for one of my hidden knives until I remember that those bastards took them from me.

A different gnome-like creature is sitting on the arm of the couch, playing with a tiny broom. He wears a brown, floppy cap over a puff of green hair and a brown set of overalls. Tiny black boots swing back and forth against the couch arm. A miniature pipe is clutched in an impressive set of wide, blocky teeth.

"Name's Tun. And you are ...?"

I glare at the creature.

"Not an early bird, I take it?" Tun inquires, puffing on his pipe. A sweet, almost fruity smoke curls into the air and dissipates.

I say nothing.

Tun props the broom between his legs and folds his hands in his lap, staring at me. "You should be grateful to us, you know," he says. "They came in here while you were asleep. And you would have been dead if we hadn't unplugged the machine and rearranged everything the way it was before."

I've never slept through anything in ten years. In my line of work, you need to be alert at all times while working a bounty. "What do you want?" I ask, my voice rough from sleep.

"A simple 'thank you' will suffice," the brown creature replies calmly, black button eyes sparkling.

I open my mouth to give a flippant answer but close it with a click. The creature's right—I left the computer plugged in. There are boot marks in front of the door, something that wasn't there last night.

"Thank you," I force myself to say. The words taste foreign on my tongue; I'm not used to being indebted to anyone.

Tun waves off my appreciation with one tiny brown hand.

"What are—?" I begin to ask, only to be interrupted by a click of the door lock.

"You never saw me," Tun says hastily, before popping out of existence through a silver portal.

I'm still so tired that I barely acknowledge the lovely breakfast tray some dumb red guard brings in and sets down on the floor.

"Do you need to piss?" the man asks gruffly.

"As a matter of fact ... I do."

I'm marched down the hall under the watchful eye of four guards to a women's employee bathroom. They wait outside while I relieve my bladder and take care of number two. At the sink, I splash some cold water on my face after washing my hands and rejoin the red parade outside.

Back in my room, I wait until the door closes behind them and the lock slams into place before getting my food.

A smart popping sound announces Tun's arrival. "At least they didn't make you piss in a bucket," the brown being remarks, puffing away.

"Very generous of them," I reply, sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. There's orange juice, coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast. Once again, it's a lot more for a prisoner than I expected. Maybe Ehtab really considers me his guest.

This is an odd way of treating your guests, but who knows how a demon's mind works?

"So," I say between mouthfuls, "what the hell are you?"

"We're brownies," Tun informs me.

I stare at the little gnome. "A little on the nose, isn't it?"

Tun shrugs.

"So, do you serve Ehtab?"

"Not by choice," he replies.

I wave a piece of bacon at the brownie. "And what do you do for the demon lord?"

"Clean," he says simply.

"Clean? Just clean?"

"That has been the purpose of all brownies from time immemorial."

"Sounds ghastly."

Tun frowns, the lines on his plump round face deepening. He looks positively wounded. "To keep a home clean is a noble endeavor," he declares, puffing on his pipe. The smoke rings his little cap like Ehtab's dust donut over the city.

"I believe it," I mutter around a piece of toast. "So, are you on a break, or do you need something from me?"

Tun leans forward on his broom. "We need something from each other," he says seriously.

I raise both eyebrows. "Go on ..."

"While we are bound to serve Ehtab, we brownies have a lot of freedom in where we go and what we do. As long as his palace is kept clean, the demon lord pays no attention to us. Thus, we have been able to observe many things over the years."

"I see."

"We watched you bring the nephilim child. Do you know what Ehtab's plans for her are?"

I set the food aside and turn my full attention to the brownie. "No. If I knew he was going to have her sacrificed I would have taken her somewhere else."

"Is that still your intention?"

I spread my arms out. "I can't exactly walk out of here." I don't fancy getting tased again, for one thing. I drop my arms and lean forward. "Why? Do you want to help me get the kid out?"

Tun nods solemnly. "Ehtab cannot be allowed to proceed. If you think that the world is broken now, it will be far, far worse should the child die."

God. I rub a hand over my face. "Tell me—why does he need the kid?" I didn't get that far in my research.

"She is nephilim—a child of an angel and human. Her blood is the key to expanding his territory tenfold."

Her blood.

I grit my teeth and take a deep breath, trying not to think of how much of the West Coast would be encased in dust if Ehtab were to succeed. "Angels. So, they exist, huh?"

Tun nods.

"So, where are they?" Where is God's mighty host? Hell, where is God?

Tun sighs sadly and shakes his head. "That has never been discussed in our presence."

How convenient, I mutter to myself.

Tun gets to his feet. "I have to go now, but I will return later tonight to continue this discussion." Putting two fingers to his little cap, the brownie calls up a portal and vanishes in a series of silver sparks.