“That’s surprising,” I said.

“Not really. There are lots of nonhumans in Southern California. They settled here because they thought it would stay small, if you can believe it. Beautiful weather, but no big natural resources—no gold or oil or flourishing fur trade. When the humans started coming and ruining the neighborhood, they stood their ground. Most snake cults are made up of frustrated humans who feel like they should be higher on the supernatural pecking order. As if being the dominant species on this planet wasn’t enough of an accomplishment.” Alice shook her head as she sank down onto the couch next to me. “I’ll hit the supply shops tomorrow, see whether anyone’s been buying the materials for a big summoning. Given what you said about the blood, though, that seems likely to be a dead end. Someone who can scrub the blood from a room that way isn’t going to need saltpeter and silver to accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to do.”

“No, probably not,” I admitted. “Malena’s going to come with us to the flea market on Sunday. She speaks Spanish, so she can help us with some of the vendors.”

“Malena—that’s the pretty chupacabra girl, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “She’s really psyched about you being Frances Brown’s daughter. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked for an autograph.”

Alice laughed ruefully. “Of all the things I have and haven’t earned in my lifetime, that’s among the most perplexing. But I’m glad she’s coming with us. Maybe that will stop her from putting me on too high of a pedestal.”

“I think it may be a little late for that,” I said. I would have said more, but a knock from the back of the apartment pulled my attention away. I frowned and stood, leaving my chicken behind.

Alice had already drawn a wicked-looking knife from somewhere inside her clothes. I wasn’t sure where: she was wearing cut-offs and a tank top, and the knife looked too large to have been hidden under either. I shook my head and motioned for her to put it down. Then I turned and walked toward the source of the knocking.

Dominic was standing outside the window of the back bedroom. I groaned theatrically as I opened it.

“What part of you people are supposed to stay far, far away from here was too difficult for you to grasp?” I asked.

“The part where your grandmother gets to be here with you and I don’t,” said Dominic. He boosted himself through the window, casting me a brief smile before he said, “And besides, this requires less running across the city on your part. I’d like you to continue to do well in this competition for as long as you choose to do so—or for at least as long as it takes us to catch our killers. A good night’s sleep will help.”

“You know what doesn’t help me stay on the show and catch the killer?” I asked. “Being kicked out because I was caught hosting a family reunion in our apartment complex. Seriously, you can’t be here. Neither one of you should be here.”

“HAIL!” shouted a tiny, ecstatic chorus. “HAIL THE CONFLICT OF PLACE!”

I went stiff. Then, slowly, I turned to see the Aeslin mice clustered on the floor next to a suspiciously cartoonish mouse hole. The edges were perfectly smooth; I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a tiny welcome mat on the floor outside.

Keeping my voice carefully neutral, I asked, “Have you been cutting holes in the walls?”

“And lo, did the Precise Priestess speak unto us, and say, Have You Considered Hiding In Plain Sight? And we did take our knives of cutting, and our saws of sawing, and begin Making Improvements.” The spokesman—spokesmouse—of the group sounded so proud of itself that I couldn’t really get angry, just exasperated.

“That doesn’t mean cutting holes in walls we don’t own,” I said. “Antimony doesn’t have any authority here.”

The mice looked confused. Confusion on a mouse was adorable, which made it even harder to stay mad at them.

Then Alice swept into the room. “Who wants chicken?” she asked.

The mice cheered.

Several minutes and two plates of barbecued chicken later, we were settled in the living room (with the curtains firmly closed, as I didn’t feel like tempting fate). Dominic sat on the couch. I sat in front of him on the floor, where he could rest a hand on my shoulder while I stretched the kinks out of my legs. And Alice, who was never very good at holding still, paced.

“So no one in town knows anything about a snake cult, and no one at the theater is acting weird,” I said. “Well. Any weirder than usual. Dancers are inherently weird. It’s part of the job description. What do we think the chances are that the murders were a matter of convenience? Maybe we have a snake cult working its way through the reality shows of Burbank, and we just had our turn on the rotation.”