Chapter 6 · Morgue Key

Ava's place smelled like burnt coffee and whatever cleaning solvent she used to scrub blood off keyboards.

I stood in her doorway with the key still warm in my pocket. She hadn't invited me in. Just looked at me with those dark eyes that could price a man's secrets down to the gram.

"You look like shit," she said.

"Thanks."

"I mean it. You look like you haven't slept in three days."

She wasn't wrong. Technically I'd slept fine. I'd just died twice since then.

"Can I come in or are we doing this in the hall?"

She stepped back. The apartment was small, clean in that specific way that meant she never let anyone stay long enough to make a mess. Two monitors on the desk. A couch that had never been slept on. Kitchen counter with one mug, one plate in the drying rack.

I shut the door behind me.

"Show me," she said.

I pulled out the key. The metal was still discolored from the fire, black along the teeth, but the serial number was readable if you knew where to look.

Ava took it without touching my hand.