The flowery scent -- tea rose? -- grew stronger, drawing Whistler out of the map. The information was now there; he wouldn't lose it. Not this time.

"I kinda am history," he muttered. It wasn't his intention to admit this. Something about the girl made him want to be honest. "Um, interested in the history of this town," the demon added. "It tends to draw in an eclectic bunch, and I'm worried what'll happen if it hits critical mass."