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resistance in entering. It is a very large cemetery, mind you, so you may have to search for a few hours. Anything you find should be recorded, gentlemen. The troops are outfitted with radios they can use to relay information back to us here at headquarters. Any other questions?” He looked around the room.
    “All right, get ready to set out,” said Kubo. The troopers shuffled out of the room slowly, begrudgingly, their black outfits and scowling faces making them look like a herd of angry black sheep. When they'd all gone, Kubo pulled me and Joe aside. “Lucy,” he said, patting my shoulder with more than jovial firmness, “this is important. The higher-ups are watching. They want to make sure you can work within a team, that you aren't a walking mess. Got it? You need to come through for us here. Don't do anything brash.” He turned to Joe. “Keep him under control, will ya?”
    Joe grinned. “No promises. You know how he gets.”
    “Look,” I replied, “I can handle myself. This'll be a cakewalk as long as the thugs don't talk shit on the way. If I kill any of them,” I added, “it'll be their own fault.”
    Amundsen frowned. “Lucian, I don't want to hear that kind of talk. They need to get used to you, that's all. Their bias against demons isn't exactly unwarranted. Lead them in this investigation without incident and they should warm up to you.” With that, he led the two of us out of the conference room, through the lobby, and to the exit. We stepped out into the humid parking lot where a pair of SUVs idled. A swarm of commandos bustled around them. These were the big, black SUVs the Veiled Order used on all of their missions. Tinted glass, monstrous tires and no license plates. The troopers were stowing away trunks of who knew what in them, and were now carrying huge-ass guns. I winced a little. A silver slug out of one of those would hurt like a bitch.
    Amundsen reached out and shook our hands. “Gentlemen, I eagerly await your report. Cut down any threats you encounter, and be sure to let us know if you find anything incongruous. Best of luck.”
    One of the troopers whistled loudly. “We're ready to go.” Throwing open one of the doors, he waited for Joe and I to get in.
    I cracked my knuckles. “Let's get this show on the road.”

SIX

    The silence was getting to me.
    No one in the damned SUV was talking. There were the sounds of the engine to focus on, sure, but the pointed silence that came in from every direction was a hell of a lot more unsettling to me than the mission at hand. No one in the vehicle wanted to talk to me. They looked at me with suspicion or disgust. Maybe both. Amundsen and Kubo had put the fear of God in them and made them promise to behave, but as they palmed their rifles and glowered in the dark SUV I could tell they wanted to turn me into swiss cheese.
    I broke the silence, nudging Joe with my elbow. “You ever take on zombies before? What can we expect? Think there will actually be any there?” I paused. “And for that matter, what are we looking for, really? They didn't explain the hallmarks of this ' death magic '. Any tell-tale signs we should look for other than the usual magic circles?”
    Joe didn't have much to offer. “Eh, to be honest, I didn't even know zombies were real before this. Didn't think reanimating the dead was possible. I guess we'll know when we get there. Maybe we'll see some sigils or magical seals or something. Or, who knows, maybe we'll find a group of the bastards waiting for us.”
    One of the troopers in the seat behind me scoffed. “Oh, so you mean to tell me that the wise-ass Demon-Heart doesn't know everything?”
    “I don't remember ordering you to talk, grunt,” was my rejoinder. His scowl practically made my day. From deep within I could sense Gadreel's will; he wished the trooper would do something to provoke me, just so that I could find an excuse to pound his brains in. C'mon , I thought, s ave it for the zombies. This