“LaChaise,” Marcone said in a voice that very much was meant to carry to the rest of the room. The ghoul looked over his shoulder at Marcone. “Where are you going, sir?” Marcone asked. LaChaise pointed a finger at the hole in the rear wall. His voice was a low, rich Louisiana gumbo with some whiskey added in. “You heard that monster. You saw what she did.” “Yes,” Marcone said, his tone bored. “I also saw your signature at the bottom of the Unseelie Accords, I believe.”
