Chapter 290

The answers to that question took us the next forty minutes and a minor B&E into Ethan's apartment. His place was bare–like one plate, one mug, and a mattress on the floor, bare.

"Did he just move in?" I said.

"No. I was here six months ago. He had furniture." Rohan roamed from room to room, but there was nothing to see.

I pulled out the trash can from under the sink, but the bag was empty and the junk drawer only held stained take-out menus.

My joints ached. The sooner Lilith was out of me, the better. I raided the medicine cabinet and helped myself to a couple of extra-strength Ibuprofen from the bottle next to the half-empty tube of shaving cream and a bag of disposable razors. My last search was the bed itself. A handful of poker chips had fallen between the mattress and the wall.

"Ro?" I headed back into the living room with the chips.