WHAT A MESS. AZAZEL gathered Charouth in his arms and left the shop. She couldn’t fly. Not like this. She was a wreck. They’d have to travel demon style. He half-carried her down the street to the nearest portal, a non-descript shop selling touristy trinkets. It was long after closing time but a panel next to the store glowed with ambient light. Undetectable by the human eye, the light was a neon sign for demons. Portal travel was the only way to get around Earthside in reasonable fashion. He slapped a palm on the glowing emblem next to the store front. Energy infused the glass, giving off gentle warmth. Charouth stirred in his arms.
“No, I want to go home.” She rattled off a West Village address. Well, that was different. Charouth didn’t keep quarters Earthside. Not while they were toget
