The demon barracks in the Department of Transportation were an appalling sight. They were crammed into the dark basement level of the building and consisted of long maze-like corridors lined with bunk beds arranged parallel to the walls. The halls were narrow enough already, but with the metal cots stacked on the sides there wasn't enough room to walk without brushing shoulders with someone heading the opposite direction. As Wyver led us toward Sebrev's bunk, Sylnie had considerable trouble squeezing her plump figure past some of the denizens of the barracks. I'm pretty sure she got downright groped by some of the more concupiscent demons we passed. Jaelin had a pleasant figure, of course, but she'd adopted a stern, bloodthirsty demeanor that had convinced the entire department to keep their hands to themselves. I imagined most of them reasoned that her ass wasn't quite smackable enough to risk losing a hand.
It seemed that Wyver hadn't known the exact location of Sebrev's bed, but it only took a minute or two before he pinpointed it. Sebrev's name was etched into a flimsy wooden nameplate beside a top bunk. Nothing else was in the immediate area except a thin gray blanket that had been neatly folded in the center of the bed.
"I take it that blanket isn't the guy we're looking for," I said.
Wyver smiled wryly. "You don't miss a trick, do you?" He leaned over into the lower bunk and roughly shook the demon who slumbered there.
"Hey, what the fuck?" the demon mumbled, squinting at us with puffy eyes. "What do you want?"
"Do you know where Sebrev is?" Wyver asked him.
"Your bunkmate, dipshit," Jaelin snapped.
"Hey, go easy, I just woke up," the demon said defensively. "I haven't seen him in a while. Longer than usual, now that I think about it."
"Where would he go?" I asked.
The demon shrugged. "I don't know. We're not friends. I don't really pay attention to what he does unless he's snoring loud enough to keep me awake."