Blake glanced at Simon, noticing he was rendering a glyph upon his hand with a Sha®pie marker. Blake didn’t know magic — like Simon — but he did know people.

“You’re a cold one, Lady,” Blake said, his voice resonating in the empty diner. “So… who’s Arthur?”

“Arthur is just Arthur. Unless you don’t know him, in which case he might be…” Simon’s pause was pregnant and intentional. Blake knew that the kid probably picked up his interrogation skills from television, but they weren’t half bad.

“Dr. Swineberg,” the leather-clad lady interjected.

“And you, Ice Lady, are?” Blake asked, noting that Simon’s glyph was almost done.

“Dr. Stephanie Gage,” she replied.

Simon dropped his Sha®pie. “Oh frak,” he muttered.

Blake shrugged his shoulders. “Who?”

“Co-author of the translation of the Necronomicon,” Simon replied.

“The Book of the Laws of the Dead?” Blake asked with a sneer.

“Yes,” she said. “I wrote it with Arthur.”

“And what do you need?” Blake asked.

“I need you to find the man who murdered me.”