“Do it,” the Devil said, back full force, the rumble in his chest vibrating through their shirts and skittering up Shade’s spine, “and I’ll drag you kicking and screaming to the warehouse, slash open Gunther’s bloated stomach, and fuck you in his entrails. He’ll be awake for the start of it before dying, which means there will be an audience. Someone else will know how secretly depraved you are, Detective Yor.”
