Page 107 of Demons Dig Donuts

Well, other than ass.

Gammy fussed over Indy before they left, which mostly consisted of making lots of threats toward Mr. Heiss and promising to add even more banishing circles.

Mr. Heiss ignored her.

From there, they left in the limo to visit several businesses—a funeral home, two bars, a storage facility, and more. Each trip was brief, usually involving only a quick chat with some non-human person pretending to be a human, and that was it. Indy didn’t hear much about what was being discussed, though not for a lack of trying. Mr. Heiss could simply mute a conversation so that only he and the other person could hear it, and Indy could not.

Handy for illegal demon mafia shenanigans but annoying for nosey humans.

When they stepped inside the refrigerated section of a food processing plant, Indy understood why Mr. Heiss had told him he’d need the coat. It was absolutely freezing in here, and he glued himself to Mr. Heiss’s side with a grumble.

Mr. Heiss smirked and wrapped his arm around Indy.

There was instant warmth, as if a blanket fresh out of the dryer had been draped over him, and Indy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“The sound of your teeth chattering is annoying.”

“You’re so sweet.”

The warehouse was dark, dank, and cold. So very, very cold. It was difficult to tell what exactly was packaged here, but there were plenty of giant rolls of plastic wrap, lots of tape guns, empty pallets, and dozens of conveyor belts with sorting machines. Everything was clean and free of dust, but it was completely empty.

Maybe everyone had simply taken the day off.

A narrow door on the far side of the building led into a simple office, and Mr. Heiss ushered Indy inside.

Azazel was there with a skinny green imp who was bloodied and lying in a heap on the desk. Azazel had one hand on the imp’s neck, pinning him down, the other holding a cigarette.

The scent of blood and clove was not a combination Indy ever wanted to smell again.

He cringed, trying to retreat.

“Stay,” Mr. Heiss said firmly.

“I’d rather not see whatever this is about to be.” Indy made a face. “Because ew.”

“Then close your eyes because you’re not leaving.” Mr. Heiss steered Indy into the chair at the desk.

Indy whined. “Come on!” He yelped as Mr. Heiss pulled the chair away from the desk and rolled it off to the side, turning him to face the wall. “Now what? Plug my ears and hum?”

“Yes.”

Azazel chuckled, pausing to take another drag from his cigarette. “Hey, boss.”

“Has he been cooperative?” Mr. Heiss kept a hand on Indy’s shoulder as he spoke to Azazel. “Or does he need some more… persuasion?”

“Nah, he’s fine.” Azazel laughed again.

The imp yelped in pain.

“Go on,” Azazel said firmly. “Tell Mr. Heiss what you told me.”

“The, the Smiths.” The imp wheezed. “It’s one of them. Uh, Liam? I think? He’s been working out of that abandoned Walmart. The one, the one they were gonna turn into a homeless shelter but corporate wouldn’t sell the property? He’s there. Okay? He’s there and, and he was bragging that he killed a demon.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know!”

There was a wet smacking sound.