Kimberly and Phil worked on the dagger for hours, running it through every database in the known universe to find its ancient origin. Phil was nothing if not thorough, and while I didn’t know Kimberly, she seemed equally intense in an off-putting, punchable way.

While they worked, I had a chance to call around to my contacts and try to figure out what was happening and, more importantly, who was trying to kill me. Luckily, Phil had an untraceable quantum number generator which allowed me to call anywhere in the world without it being traced back to me, and I had a Rolodex full of contacts that didn’t sleep.

“Thanks, Skyler,” I said to one of my informants. He was a police officer who would provide me with any information I wanted—for the right price. I paid him handsomely for the privilege, but he also got off on the thrill of the subterfuge. Police officers were often adrenaline junkies, and spycraft was the ultimate high. “I’ll call you back later to see if you found anything.”

I slammed the receiver down in anger. Halfway through my Rolodex and I still had no clue about the loser who was trying to kill me. I was hot as a pistol and inches from ripping somebody apart with my bare hands. I hoped it would be the jackasses who were on my tail, but if not, it would be the next person to cross my path.

I stormed back into Phil’s office. The hum of computers and the glow of green screens filled the room. Anjelica was half asleep, and I pushed her toward the edge of the cot when I dropped down on the bed, the duffel bag full of money under me. It occurred to me that I’d been so concerned with figuring out what happened, I never even opened up the bag.

“Did you find anything?” Anjelica kicked me lightly as she stretched.

“Nothing. Apparently, whoever is trying to kill us both is a ghost.”

“That’s a distinct possibility.” Anjelica rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Given who you associate with, after all.”

“Funny,” I replied with a chuckle. “But you’re right. Saying they are a ghost is an insult to ghosts, ghouls, draugrs, lich, and spirits of all types. Those guys would have the decency to leave a trail, at least.”

“So, there’s nothing you can do?” Anjelica yawned through her words. “I thought you were good.”

“I am good. It’s very frustrating.” I pulled the duffel bag close. “At least I’m rich now.” I opened the bag, thinking that maybe looking at the money would cheer me up.

There was nothing inside the bag but gym socks and phone books, cut to feel like the shape of money. I dumped the whole thing out on the floor and searched through it, but I already knew the truth. I was boned.

“Gross,” I grumbled, picking up a foul-smelling sock.

“That doesn’t look like money,” Anjelica said.

“No, it doesn’t, and now I am a level of anger I have only reached twice before in my life. The monsters who did this are very, very dead.”

I had leveraged everything for this job, emptied every account, and called in every favor. Even with the advance, it wasn’t nearly enough to buy the information I needed, but I hadn’t minded the expense because this was going to be “the big one,” the one that would let me stop doing tiny, little jobs and move up to the big time. Now, I was flat broke.

“I’m going to kill them.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m going to find them, and I’m going to kill them so hard.”

“You have to find them first, though, right?” Anjelica said.

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“I do.” I whipped around to Phil and Kimberly. “Anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Phil replied.

“We’re getting close,” Kimberly added, typing furiously. “But a word of warning, bugging us isn’t going to make us work any faster.”

“Ugh!” I flopped back on the bed. “This sucks. Not only do I have no money, but if I can’t find those scumbags, I can’t make them pay. If I don’t make this right, my name is dirt in every crime syndicate on the West Coast, and they’ll all be gunning for my head. I’ll have to go into hiding. Change my name—become a hermit.”

“Ollie is a weird name anyway. Maybe you should change it.” Anjelica was a little too perky for me at the moment.

“That’s not the point,” I groaned.

“I know. I’m just trying to distract you. Is it working?”

I sighed. “Kind of.”

“Good,” Anjelica said with a smile. She seemed to smile at everything, no matter the situation. “What’s Ollie short for, anyway? Oh god, it is short for something, right? No offense, but I met your mom, and she doesn’t seem to hate you enough to name you Ollie.”

I chuckled. “Oh, you would be surprised. Ollie is short for Oleander.”

I was surprised when Anjelica paused before saying, “That’s unusual but pretty.”

“My mother’s last name is White, so she thought it was a funny joke because I poisoned everything I touched. Even her.”

“I don’t get it.”

“White oleander is a highly poisonous plant,” Kimberly said without looking away from the computer screen. “Effective, too.”

“Exactly.” I turned to her. “So yeah, she hates me plenty.”

“Hey!” Kimberly shouted, cutting through the sudden, sad silence. “I think I have something.”

“Thank god.” I pushed myself to stand. “You found who’s trying to kill me?”

“No,” Kimberly replied. “I think I know what Apocalypse they are trying to start, though.”

I glared. “Oh goodie, the least important part of all this.”

“Not to me!” Anjelica’s eyes bulged when she spoke, and she scrambled over to the computer. “So, hush. Kimberly doesn’t have to help us. She’s doing it out of the good in her heart.” She placed a hand on Kimberly’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about Ollie. She’s just grumpy because she lost three million dollars, and her mom gave her a stupid name. Please, continue.”

I raised my hand in the air to protest but faltered. She’d kind of nailed it.

“Thanks for the permission I didn’t need,” Kimberly said. “A few months ago, I loaded all the information I have ever found about every apocalyptic scenario into this computer to help me find some connection between them.” She typed something else, and the text changed. “I fed everything we know about you into the system, and it did whatever computers do—”

“—processed information,” Phil added, though I was very sure Kimberly knew exactly what they did.

“Yeah, that,” Kimberly said, her words dripping with sarcasm. “A Wudi philosopher named Lui predicted the end of the world would come ‘when the Fire Eye ran around the world in the year when the marked leader rises in the West’.”

“Very ominous, definitely,” Anjelica said. “This whole night has been filled with ominous signs. I had a grand total of zero ominous signs in my life before today. I miss those days.”

Kimberly waited for Anjelica to finish. “Anyway, I thought he was talking about Europe or even the USA, even though it wouldn’t exist for thousands of years, but then I realized almost everywhere is west of China since it borders the ocean on its eastern coast. What if he was talking about the Soviet Union? He could have been talking about Gorbachev, who has a huge birthmark on his head and just came to power. It all fits.”

“Except for the comet,” I said.

Kimberly smiled. “Actually, a pretty big comet is going to come dangerously close to hitting Earth in two hours, right before sunrise.”

“Bull plop,” Anjelica said. “I haven’t heard about any comet. Wouldn’t something like that be on the news?”

“Yeah.” I nodded in agreement. “Why haven’t we heard about it?”

“Because nobody has,” Phil said flatly. “My tech is far superior to anything on Earth. One day, you primitive monkeys will realize there is almost always a comet circling Earth.”

“That’s good news!” I said. “If the comet will pass by in two hours, then she should be safe if we get her to tomorrow morning, right?”

Kimberly shook her head. “It’s not that easy.”

“I didn’t say any of this was easy. We have a bunch of murdering demons after us. Surviving until morning will be a pain. But it’s doable.”

An orange glow came from the window, and I heard a familiar voice calling from outside the house. “HEY, OLLIE! Get out here!”

I peeked through the blinds to see Moloch and Balaam, holding a rocket launcher and a Gatling gun between them. The ice cream truck was on fire behind them.

“And bring the whelp!” Moloch screamed, resting the rocket launcher on his shoulder.

“You have ten seconds!” Balaam added, spinning up the Gatling gun.

“Speaking of, guys…” I turned around. “We have a problem.”