 
# Hear No

### Hidden Evil, Book One

## Lizzy Ford
By Lizzy Ford

_www.LizzyFord.com_

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Cover design by Lizzy Ford

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Cover photo © Andrey Kiselev via Fotolia

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_Hear No_ copyright ©2013 by Lizzy Ford

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All rights reserved.

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

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This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
For Kaila Brie-Ann Dimaggio, the fan who inspired the character of Amira (and the Hidden Evil series as a whole!) You're right – there aren't enough books celebrating the diversity of the people in our world.

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Hopefully, we can inspire other authors to include characters that remind people to look beyond stereotypes and see that there's beauty within every one of us.

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Enjoy your story!

### Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Also By Lizzy Ford

About the Author

# Prologue

Amira Santiago studied the face of her mentor, guardian and friend in the dim light of the seedy hotel room on the south side of Washington, DC. The room was dark, except for the red glow of the flashlight Scott held to illuminate his hands. Born deaf, Amira relied on him to hear their pursuers and to tell her via sign language what was going on.

Her eyes went to his hands, which shook. He was weak and growing weaker, despite the heat radiating off him. He was a spirit guide, a medium of exceptional power, capable of tapping into the energy of the universe that flowed around people. Assigned to protect her and her secrets, he had been with her as long as she could remember.

"Why aren't you healing?" She signed the question to him.

He shifted forward, and blood dropped from one of his many wounds onto the lens of the flashlight. He wiped it free before responding with his hands.

"Saving my energy to fight. Can't do both," he replied.

"I don't understand what's happening," she said.

"Me neither." His hands dropped from sight for a moment. They reappeared, holding a familiar velvet dice bag. He handed it to her. "You're going to have to make a run for it, Amira."

Her eyes stung with tears. She shook her head.

He leaned forward to squeeze her arm and pushed the pouch into one palm. Wiping her eyes, she focused on the message his hands were delivering.

"You remember where I told you to go?" Scott asked.

"Rosewood Center. Regional safe place," she replied.

He flipped the light off suddenly, and she sucked in a breath, gaze going to the door. Four shadows passed the window, paused, and then continued. It was too much of a coincidence for them to be any other than those who were tracking them.

Scott had moved her from place-to-place for a week, stopping to sleep during the day and moving mainly at night. This was the third time they'd found her, and she had a feeling Scott wasn't going to make it through another confrontation.

Amira squeezed the dice bag in one hand, feeling the lumpy shapes of the stones it held within. Most of them were warm, radiating tiny bursts of energy that made her fingers tingle. One, however, was cold, sucking away her body heat. They'd come to life a day before the four pursuers first found them, an omen of what was to come, one Amira hadn't understood how to interpret until it was too late.

Scott took her hand and helped her up. He led her to the tiny bathroom in a corner of the room, tugged her inside, then closed the door. Flipping on the light, he set down the flashlight.

Amira regarded his bloodied body with a mixture of horror and sorrow, unable to understand how quickly their lives had changed. She lived nineteen years in peace, and in one day, the entire world around her imploded.

In his mid-thirties, Scott was around her height of six feet, thick and muscular, in the way of most spirit guides. The ultra-tough mediums were accustomed to dealing with supernatural messes and cleaning them up, when it was too late for intervention. They were the elite corps of gifted humans immortalized for the sake of helping those in the human world who needed it.

He withdrew a smooth moonstone and handed it to her. Her gaze dropped to his mouth when he began speaking, so she could read his lips.

"This won't help you against Zyra and those with her, but it'll protect you from anything else that might be coming," he reminded her. "Keep it with you, okay?" His eyes drifted automatically to the velvet bag clenched in her other hand.

Neither spoke about the stones or how the four people chasing them were a minor nuisance compared to the evil that would follow. Scott was charged with protecting her, and she was charged with guarding the secrets of the stones. Dormant since the Creation of the universe, the stones in the velvet pouch had been hibernating since. Until now.

Amira took the blood-streaked moonstone from him. Scott's clothing was soaked with blood, but he stood solidly on his feet, armed with a few knives and at least one handgun.

"Car's out back. Keys," he said, holding them up. "I'm going to try to finish this here and now. You go out back and drive away. Don't look back."

"After picking you up," she said hopefully, searching his face. "Right?"

The hard planes of Scott's face softened. He cupped her cheek with one hand and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

"I'm not coming with you," he said. "Amira, I'm dying. The only thing I'm good for now is distracting them long enough for you to escape."

Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. "No, Scott!" Amira's whole body shook at the thought of losing him.

"Stay calm," he told her. "We've planned for this our whole lives, just in case. What's your mission?"

"P...protect the stones at all costs," she said. It was getting hard to talk. Her throat hurt. She switched to sign language, struggling not to cry. "Stay alive. Stop the four archdemons from finding the stones."

"Good girl," he said. "Easy, right?"

She shook her head.

"One more mission," he said. "Walk away from me tonight. Make it to the Rosewood Center."

The tears were falling faster. She didn't want to acknowledge his words.

"Okay?" he asked, taking her arms. "Stay alive. Keep the stones safe. Walk away."

Amira flung her arms around him, not caring if his blood soaked her, too. They'd been in this together since she was tiny. The idea of leaving him to die was unbearable, even if she knew that the stones could never fall into the hands of another without bringing great evil.

Scott held her close for a moment before pushing her away. He placed a finger to his lips and motioned to the room outside the bathroom.

Unable to hear if their pursuers had found them, Amira held her breath.

Scott tucked the keys to the car into her pocket and she did the same with the stones. He withdrew a knife and a gun and nudged her behind him, taking up position in front of the bathroom door.

He twisted his upper body enough to see her.

"On the count of three, run. Got it?" he said.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

Scott was collecting energy from their surroundings, and she sensed him connect with the Other Side, the dimension within a dimension where the spirits of the dead and supernatural creatures existed. It was also where the energy of the universe originated, and Scott was pulling in so much of it, he glowed.

It would kill him, she knew, but he had already accepted his death. She wanted to crawl into the tub, curl up and sob.

_Stay alive. Keep the stones safe. Walk away._ Scott was right. Her mission was far more important than the lives of the two of them, no matter how much she loved him like a gruff but gentle big brother that raised her.

Facing the door, Scott held up one finger.

Adrenaline surged through her.

He opened the door, his muscular shape too thick for her to see if anyone awaited them in the room beyond.

Scott held up two fingers and stepped into the hotel room, his body radiating too much heat for her to stand close.

The door to the room opened, and Scott's body jerked as bullets hit him. Amira froze. He returned fire and dropped to one knee.

Heat rolled over her, hot enough that she struggled to breathe.

Scott held up three fingers.

Sensing he was getting ready to explode and level the top floor of the hotel, the people crowding the doorway scattered.

Scott pushed her, and Amira ran, darting through the doorway. The four pursuers were scrambling to get down the stairs on either side of the second floor, and she raced after them, the heat of Scott's impending explosion singeing the hair on her arms.

The explosion sent her flying over the railing into the murky pool below. Amira plunged into the lukewarm water. She kicked herself up to the surface, recalling briefly how disgusting the greenish water had been when they passed it initially. Swimming to the side, she hauled herself out and looked around for pursuers. One flailed around the other end of the pool while another appeared to have landed on the top of a car. The other two weren't visible.

The four would heal, the same way Scott could and she could, but it would take them time.

Amira flung water from her arms and ran, racing through the common area in front of the building. She reached the other end and stopped to look back at the room where she'd left Scott.

Her breath caught, and tears blurred her vision once more. The top floor of the hotel was gutted where the explosion occurred. The building around the crater was burning around it, the scent of fire in the air. She half expected to see Scott emerge and wave at her to tell her he was okay.

He didn't, but another form did, a shadowy, muscular man that stood at the railing in front of the room. She stared, grappling with who – or what – he was. There was no floor at the railing, and he seemed unaffected by the fires around him.

As if sensing her, he turned his head towards her, and she stifled a scream.

He had no face.

"Are you ready to feel the fires of Hell, keeper of the stones?" His voice was in her head, a dark, grating hiss that scared her. "Shadowman is here for you."

_It's not possible._ And yet, there he was, the first of four archdemons who would do whatever it took to steal her secrets.

Amira turned and fled. Her heart broke for Scott, but she had to protect the stones no matter what.

# One

_S ix weeks later_

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Nathan shut the door of his restored Pontiac GTO. Tall, lean and relaxed, he was the kind of man who commanded the world around him with the authority of the Roman centurion he once was, three thousand years before. He walked to the curb where a blonde woman sat sobbing in front of a house party still raging at three in the morning. Behind her paced a nervous man in his late twenties, one whose expression was a mix of guarded hopefulness and irritation.

Looking from the sobbing woman to the man, Nathan stopped.

" _This_ is your emergency?" he asked. "A crying girl?"

"Well... I... god, can you just help me out?" the man replied.

_He's gotta be a newbie._ Nathan was expecting the world to be ending, based on the text he'd received that summoned him here. He opened the trunk of his car and pulled the knives hidden in his waistband free, tossing them in the back. He always kept one on him, usually strapped to his calf, but the rest he wasn't going to need to deal with a sad woman and her incompetent caseworker. Instead, he grabbed a black satchel out of his trunk, slammed it shut and then approached the curb.

It was a warm desert night in Tucson, Arizona, the kind that made him want to walk barefoot instead of wearing his loafers. He knew two things without a doubt and how to master the classy-casual look was one of them. The downside: it meant not going barefoot. He lit a cigarette, debating whether he could lower his standards enough to put on some sort of semi-stylish sandals.

After a deep drag, he faced the man behind the crying girl.

"What's her sign?" he asked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"S... scorpio," the crying girl answered.

"All right, newbie," Nathan said to the man. He set down the satchel beside the girl. "The only reason I'm not leaving is because she's a fellow Scorpio."

There was a sigh from the other man, who raked a hand through his hair then rubbed his face. A young, recently appointed spirit guide – a cross between a glorified medium and supernatural case worker, Joey appeared to be no older than Nathan and was ready to panic, a sign of how new he was to his duties.

"What's your approval rating?" Nathan asked curiously.

"Sixty five percent."

"So no one will be surprised you couldn't handle this. I'll take it from here, Joey."

"Can I watch?"

"I don't give a shit." Nathan sat down next to the sobbing woman.

He took a few puffs of his cigarette, listening to her cry. She was a first gen, an angel incarnated for the first time as a human. She had a soul, a finite life, emotions, none of which an angel possessed when in its pure energy form. She was in her mid-twenties, old enough to realize what angels soon discovered when they became human: that there was evil in the world.

"I'm glad this is it," he said to Joey. "Things have been weird lately. Lots of messes to clean up. This is a nice break."

"I haven't had to clean up any messes," Joey admitted.

"How long have you been in the corps?"

"Two months," answered Joey. "Messes. You mean like demon possessions and stuff?"

"That and a rash of first gens with extreme breakdowns. Pretty much every first gen has a meltdown when they realize they can't go back to the Other Side anymore and are stuck in the human world. But lately things have been weird." _Not to mention Scott getting killed. First time for everything._ He shook his head. "A lot of guides are overwhelmed. I'm the only one allowed to work freelance, but at this point, I need a clone."

"I don't want to be you. This is bad enough." Joey motioned to the woman.

Nathan opened his bag. "Here's your first tip. These are all you need, Joey." He held up two items: a cigarette and a snow globe filled with glitter rather than fake snow. "First gens love anything that glitters or sparkles. Reminds them of home. You can buy these globes in bulk straight from China for fifteen cents a piece."

"N...nate?" the woman asked, peeking through her fingers at him.

"Yeah."

"I want to go back."

"You can't, baby," he replied softly. "You signed the paperwork. Remember?"

Her sobbing grew louder. Nathan didn't blame her, but after so many similar interventions, he found it hard to care much anymore. He held the cigarette out to her.

"Have a smoke. It'll calm you," he directed.

"N...no! I can't... body... sacred!"

"You reek of alcohol. A cigarette isn't going to do much more damage," he replied, amused.

She didn't budge.

Joey snorted, as if satisfied Nathan hadn't cracked the girl yet.

Nathan held out the snow globe. He shook it, and glitter tumbled within the sphere, reflecting in the streetlight.

His second area of expertise: angels. He could spot one – first gen or ten thousandth gen – a mile away, and he knew how to handle them in their human or energy forms.

He shook the globe again, waiting for the inevitable –

"Sparkles," the girl murmured. She took the globe from him.

Nathan lit the cigarette for her and passed it over.

She took it, too. She was calming, transfixed by the glitter. She took a huge draw on the cigarette, coughed, and then shook her head.

Nathan glanced at his watch. The drug took about two minutes before she'd start to feel it, though if drunk, it might be faster. He sat quietly, waiting. The girl was turning the snow globe slowly, her blue eyes on the tiny flashes of color tumbling within the glass.

"Are you going to talk to her?" Joey asked.

"In a minute," Nathan replied. "Can you get the red bag out of my car?"

Joey hesitated, on the verge of refusing. Too curious to know how the master spirit guide worked, he relented and went.

Nathan watched him. If this was the worst the new kid had to deal with, it was a damned good day in his book.

The first gen giggled.

Nathan glanced at her. She was glassy-eyed and grinning. She began waving the dome.

"Oooohhh... rainbows!" she said, mesmerized by something only she could see.

He took her cigarette before it fell from her fingers.

"All right. Tell Nate what's wrong," he said. He relaxed and leaned back, enjoying the warm night beside the hallucinating ex-angel trying to capture invisible rainbows with her hands.

"I want to go back," she said in a sad, faded voice.

"Understood. What else?"

"Did you know my toes are too big?"

"No."

She pushed off one sandal to show him perfectly proportioned feet and studied them critically.

"He said they were big."

"Boyfriend?"

"Ex." Her sorrow was clear. "I just wanted him to be happy. Why are humans not happy like angels, Nate?"

"Because they have to deal with people who think their toes are too big," he replied drily.

She sighed.

"You want my relationship advice? Don't try to make him happy," Nathan replied. "Be yourself. If that's not good enough for him then find someone else."

Joey was staring at him from the car. The young spirit guide's eyes slid to the girl in a look of such longing, Nathan rolled his eyes.

"But he makes me feel the way sparkles do," the ex-angel lamented.

"You didn't get in a fight about your toes. What made you break up?" Nathan asked.

"I want kids, and he's an Aquarius."

"Jesus Christ," Nathan muttered. "This is sounding like every break-up I've ever had. I need those sparkles more than you."

She giggled once more.

"Aquarius men are notorious for not wanting to settle down. But you knew that when you got into this relationship. So, if he won't commit, he's not for you. Got it?" Nathan waved at Joey. "Red bag."

Joey bent to reach into the car and withdrew the red bag, staring at it.

"You're a pizza delivery man?" he asked in disbelief.

"I like pizza," the woman said.

"You gotta make an honest living somehow. It's not like the Other Side pays us to do our job," Nathan replied. "Bring it over. They're too drunk inside to notice if a few pieces are missing."

Joey shook his head. Nathan assessed the new spirit guide had no problem with money, if his Rolex was any indication. After years of saving money, Nathan didn't either, but he'd vowed never to let himself fall into the rut he spent a decade in when he first started. He held a steady job or two, moving on when he was ready to try something new.

"Don't you think she should try to talk to her... ex?" Joey asked.

"No," Nathan said. "Either he accepts her or he doesn't. Kids are part of her dream, and Scorpios are the most stubborn sign and most emotional. She needs that deep, mutual level of commitment to feel comfortable."

"Yes," the angel agreed. Her voice was still faint, and she kept looking at the rainbows with a sigh.

"Maybe he's just not ready," Joey argued.

Nathan pulled a pizza from the bag. He set the box on the sidewalk and motioned for Joey to join them. After a moment, the other spirit guide knelt near the pizza.

The angel set down her snow globe and reached for the food.

"Maybe he's not supposed to date first gen angels either," Nathan pointed out.

Joey froze then looked away.

"This is so hard," the ex-angel said. "None of this is in the manual."

"There's no manual that teaches you to be human," Nathan said firmly. "I don't care what they tell you the first time around."

"What manual?" Joey asked. "I've never seen one."

"Ten Commandments," Nathan said. "They're guidelines for the newly incarnated."

"Mushrooms." The former angel giggled again, staring at her pizza. "They're _talking_ to me!"

"Eat them before they start walking," Nathan advised.

The ex-angel stuffed half the piece of pizza in her mouth. Nathan laughed.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Joey demanded.

"LSD and glitter," Nathan replied.

"You _drugged _her?"

"Yeah."

"How do you have a ninety-nine percent approval rating?"

_It's negative ninety-nine._ "I figure out what's wrong and fix it. How I do it isn't really important," Nathan said with a shrug. "You okay, baby?" he asked the angel.

Her cheeks bulging with pizza, she nodded.

"So how do you fix this?" Joey asked.

"I don't. You do. You either make her happy or you walk and have her reassigned," Nathan replied.

"But you said you'd take this case."

"You forgot to mention you were personally involved," Nathan said. "That changes everything. Consider this a freebie. I calmed her down. You clean up your own mess."

Joey's gaze lingered on the angel, who was content with her pizza and snow globe.

Nathan wolfed down a couple slices then lit another cigarette, his gaze going to the clear sky. He wasn't joking about the girlfriends demanding kids. He fell into the same pattern with each woman he dated. He met Ms. Right, settled down in what he thought was a relationship whose boundaries were mutually understood. Then one day, she demanded kids and marriage.

He walked. He always did. His work as a supernatural caseworker and protector of incarnated angels was priority. Women didn't understand that he wasn't able to settle down, because he was temporarily immortal. At some point, his boss on the Other Side would give him the option of retiring as a human.

_If things keep getting weirder, it won't be anytime soon,_ he thought to himself.

"You gonna be all right?" he asked the woman.

"The glowing elves want me to follow them," she said.

"Just stay out of the street." Nathan reached into his satchel and withdrew a small bottle of painkillers. He tossed it to Joey.

"What's this?" Joey asked.

"She'll have a headache tomorrow."

"Is this legal?"

Nathan ignored him. He stood and studied the first gen one last time. She'd hate him in the morning, when she found herself having to deal with Joey, the ex who didn't like her toes or her dreams. But that was the way of things. She was in no danger, and Joey had to learn.

Nathan picked up his delivery bag and pulled out the pizzas.

"C'mere, honey," he told the ex-angel.

The incarnated angel tucked the snow globe in her pocket. She stood, wobbled and then smiled.

"Take these inside. Give me a minute with your guide." Nathan handed them to her.

She took the boxes and walked towards the house, stopping to sing to rainbows or elves or whatever else she saw.

Nathan extinguished his cigarette with his heel then met the gaze of Joey, who still appeared unsettled.

"You don't date first gen angels," Nathan started.

"You just drugged her, and you're going to tell _me_ what to do?"

"You can do whatever you want, except for dating first gen angels. They have to learn. The best way to learn is not to have someone standing between them and reality."

"Let her flail around and get hurt?" Joey asked, crossing his arms. "Sounds like a compassionate guide."

"You can be compassionate with humans."

"I can't walk away from her."

Nathan smiled. "Then get used to the idea of kids, Joey. You can't have it both ways."

"You make it sound so easy. It's not that cut and dry," Joey objected.

"Not my problem. In a domestic dispute, I'll always side with the former angel. Their intentions are usually purer," Nathan said. "Now, I've got some pizzas to deliver." He took the carrier and paced to his car.

"Nate, wait!" Joey called.

"I'm on the clock, Joey. Deal with it."

"You know they're right what they say about you."

"I'm bitter but effective?" Nathan asked, hand resting on the metal handle of his car door.

"They said you're a cold-hearted bastard and a selfish dick."

"Close enough." Nathan opened his car door and dropped into it. He understood Joey's anger wasn't really directed at him but at the fact the young spirit guide had screwed up by dating a first gen – and knew it.

Nathan closed his door, started the engine and drove away.

_Selfish._ It was the second time in as many days he'd been called that. His life was dedicated to helping lost, scared or endangered incarnated angels. He went whenever someone called, wherever it was, without batting an eye at the time or expense or personal toll it took to get there and make sure said angel or spirit guide was okay. So he'd lost the ability to feel... he still did his job.

How the hell was he _selfish_?

His cell rang. He tapped the Bluetooth device on his ear.

"Nate."

"Pedro has a pick-up for you," said the familiar voice of Wendy, the first gen who ran communications between the Other Side and the spirit guides in the human world. "Says there's a problem."

"When is there not a problem?" Nathan replied.

Wendy laughed, unable to see the darkness of the world the way Nathan did.

"Is it local?" Nathan asked.

"Sort of."

"That means no." Angels and first gens didn't like bad news, either. "Where am I going?"

"Virginia."

"When?"

"Your plane leaves in ninety minutes."

Nathan muttered a curse. There was no time to pack, and ducking out in the middle of his pizza delivery shift meant he was going to have to find a new job upon his return.

"You know you need to book these things at least four to six hours out," he told Wendy, not for the first time.

"You'll make it, Nate. I have faith."

He rolled his eyes at the cheerful ex-angel's tone.

"Your car is in your normal spot at the airport," she added. "Your usual stuff is in the trunk, and we rented you an apartment. Directions are –"

"Wait, an apartment?" Nathan echoed. "I'm not picking up and bringing back?"

"Not this time. Pedro is sending someone to brief you. We have... issues."

"You mean, _I_ have issues."

Another giggle. "Are you at the airport?"

"Um, no. It takes twenty minutes to get there. I'll be lucky if I can catch my flight."

"Not lucky, Nate, blessed."

"Right. I'll let you know when I land." He hung up.

Nathan guided his car down to the south side of town, the opposite direction of any of his pizza deliveries. It was close to dawn on the other side of the country, which meant he needed to sleep on the plane so he was ready for a full day of angel-directed madness. With no concept of time or money and an inability to see problems, angels like Pedro, who had been around since the beginning of time, made for horrible managers. The upside to an angel boss: even if Nathan screwed up, the angels only saw what he did right. They were the epitome of everything pure and good, incapable of seeing evil, wrong, or mistakes.

He reached the airport, parked, and leaned over to the glove compartment. He was a simple man, despite his penchant for designer clothes. He could travel with no more than his little black notebook, cigars, a couple of snow globes and his wallet. He could buy clothes and toiletries when he landed.

Dumping the pizzas in a trashcan, he trotted into the terminal, determined to catch his plane.

# Two

The Shadowman was watching her. He followed her through her daily routine, perched on the balcony outside her apartment while she slept, even lingered one aisle over in the grocery store.

Why was a monster in a grocery store?

Kaylee awoke mid-panic. Her heart was racing and her senses jumbled from escaping the dream world too fast. She breathed deeply, orienting herself to the small master bedroom of her apartment in Reston, Virginia. When she confirmed where she was, she relaxed.

The sense of not being alone remained, like it had been every day for the past month. Not one to believe in ghosts, she had begun to reconsider, especially on nights like this, when she was all too aware of how alone and dark it was in her two bedroom apartment. She never checked the closet of the second bedroom. There could be someone there, or in the broom closet near the entrance, or maybe even in her master closet...

Kaylee glanced towards her closet then shook her head.

_No more scary movies before bed,_ she told herself.

She threw off her blankets and padded to her bathroom. She'd awoken like this four out of the past five nights, often enough that she understood she wouldn't be going back to sleep again. The hair at the back of her neck remained on end as she washed her face.

Kaylee shivered. She wiped her face and studied herself in the mirror, wondering if the stress from her work was causing the nightmares and paranoia. She was always tired anymore with no energy for much of anything after the fourteen-hour days chained to her desk.

Her wispy dark blonde hair was pulled back in a loose bun on top of her head, rendering her round face childlike with her large blue eyes and small features. Her ears were tiny and stuck out too far from her head, her body of medium build and toned from her daily runs. She wore a tank top and underwear to sleep in. Dark circles lined her eyes.

Her best friend was right. She needed a real vacation and not just the occasional three-day weekend she spent working from home.

Kaylee left the bathroom. She turned on lights as she went. While she didn't believe in the boogeyman, she wasn't comfortable enough after the nightmares to sit alone in the dark.

She set her pink laptop on her coffee table, turned on the TV to the horror channel for background noise and then checked her phone.

_Renaissance Faire starts this weekend. You MUST come!_ The message had been sent by her best friend, Andrea. Kaylee saw it before she went to sleep and had been debating. Taking the weekend off work meant she'd start next week way behind. If she wanted to take a real vacay soon, she had to be caught up.

Her eyes went to the balcony, where the Shadowman – a nickname she gave the strange darkness – sat watching her at night, according to her nightmares. She couldn't see past the darkness peering through the glass doors to see the table and chairs on her balcony. She didn't see the stars or moon either, as if the world ended at her patio door.

She shivered again, convinced Shadowman was the embodiment of her stressful job. It was following her home now and freaking her out when she needed to spend more time relaxing. Or working.

One weekend wouldn't hurt. She typed a quick response to Andrea. The moment she pressed the send button, she felt the intangible weight of being watched lift off her shoulders.

"Maybe you're right," she murmured to the picture of Andrea on her phone. "Give myself permission to take a break, and just... let... go." She did her best to impersonate her best friend's stoner way of talking then laughed. There were days she'd give anything to be as zen as Andrea.

Kaylee closed her laptop. She'd give herself permission to relax right now, too. She pushed the laptop away with her foot and leaned back on the couch, gaze drifting from the TV to her balcony once more.

The full moon was brilliant, lighting up the entire space on her patio. The chairs, table, even the small candle on the railing were all visible.

Kaylee sat up straight, startled. Had the moon been behind a cloud before when she looked? She crossed to the door and peered at the sky.

It was clear. Not a cloud in sight.

Yet something had been blocking her view of the balcony.

_Shadowman._

She stepped back from the door and shook her head. She was tired. She made a simple mistake or was half asleep the first time she looked. There was no other explanation. She wasn't about to buy the idea that there was some sort of... creature sitting on her balcony at night.

Uneasy, Kaylee returned to the couch. She tucked her legs beneath her and stared at the TV.

If she was this stressed, she needed a vacation much sooner than she thought. She tried not to look at the balcony, but her gaze drifted back.

Was there something more than stress going on?

# Three

Amira sat in the corner of her room at the Rosewood Center, eyes on the moonstones that glittered and glowed in the light from the hallway. The steel door and enclosed space didn't upset her the way she thought it would. She was the last person who thought she deserved to be in a mental health institution.

But this center was special, run by a tenth generation reincarnated angel and his son. They'd been the only people she knew to come to, even if she didn't tell them who – and what – she really was. Reincarnated angels helped people, and this center was a regional haven for troubled former angels. Scott said she was safer here than she would be anywhere else, and she wasn't certain whom else to trust, aside from other former angels.

A first gen herself, she was new to the aspects of the human world that angels were blind to: avarice, negative emotions, fighting and death.

Evil.

She shivered and looked around again. The moonstones lining the floor of her cell in the mental health ward would've been forbidden at any other center, but the owners of this one understood the power of a moonstone - its ability to draw the protection of any guardian angels nearby and repel evil.

Amira rose from her spot on the bed and crossed her small room to sit with her back against the door. She wasn't able to hear the scrape of a key in the lock or the sound of a code being typed onto a keypad, but she could feel the vibrations of those who walked past her door and anyone who might be opening it. There were no windows in her cell, aside from the one in the door, and her seat directly beneath it was a blind spot to anyone peering in.

No one could sneak up on her here and if someone tried, she'd be able to rely on her other enhanced senses to see them before they got her. She had flawless 20/10 vision, the nose of a bloodhound and an innate empathy towards humans possessed by all first gens that was enhanced by an even more special gift. Unlike other first gens, she retained the ability to channel some of the energy from the Other Side, the way Scott could. She'd already learned she could bypass her lock to open her door at will.

Assured no one was coming, she turned her attention to the reason she'd been allowed to keep some of the abilities she had as an angel.

The velvet dice bag was in her hands. She dumped its contents into her palm and then set the pouch on the floor before her, placing the stones on it. Three were blue, one half green and half blue, and the final one red-orange.

"Where are you?"

She didn't have to worry about people outside the cell overhearing her. On the initial tour of the facility, the owner's son, Evan, had told her the rooms were sound proof. Which meant she could talk to herself without people making the shushing motions that indicated she was speaking too loudly. Unable to hear herself, she always seemed to talk too loud.

"I am here." She picked up one blue rock and set it on her knee. She picked up another one and held it tightly in her hand, closing her eyes to concentrate.

It was one of the stones that didn't communicate with her. She'd been puzzled about it for almost two months now, since the stones came alive. Three of the five began trying to share their messages. It took her a while to realize that each of the three spoke to one or two of her senses. Was it possible the silent ones made sounds? How was she supposed to find and warn the girls the stones led to, if she couldn't hear their secrets?

It was the other two light blue ones like hers that hummed with energy but didn't communicate with her, making her wonder if she was supposed to be able to locate them at all. Was this a safety measure to prevent discovery of the others' locations through the stones, whose secrets were as old as Creation? The latest in a long line of protectors, Amira found herself praying her predecessor had told her everything there was to know about the stones.

Disappointed, she set the two blue ones aside beside hers. That left two she could read: the two-toned one and the red one that scared her.

"Pestilence, War, Famine," she repeated, eyes falling to the blue-green stone. She dreaded picking it up. The blue stones were warm, friendly, happy, like the first gen angels they represented. "Death."

His two-toned stone wasn't just cold; it sucked the warmth from her. The moment it came alive, her whole world changed. She didn't understand why half of it was the same color as hers – indicating an angel stone – and the other was the pale yellow green of the horse Death would ride out of Hell to start the Apocalypse.

In all the years since Creation, the stones had allegedly been dormant, according to her predecessor. How was she supposed to know that this era was when the four archdemons of the Apocalypse would make their move?

"I'm failing you," she said to the three blue stones, heart heavy with the fact she hadn't understood immediately what it meant when the stones came alive.

A day after they did, four spirit guides – who normally worked their assignments alone – showed up on their doorstep in southern Maryland. Scott had welcomed them, introduced Amira, and sat down for coffee with them.

_Zyra._ He'd called the leader of the guides. Zyra was a gorgeous blonde with cold eyes that had seen right through Amira.

They weren't there for coffee, she recalled darkly. They were his colleagues and friends – there to kill him to get to her.

Scott hid her for a week until the horrible night at the hotel in southeast DC.

Trying not to think about that night, she was unable to prevent the memory of Shadowman from returning. The archdemon was only in spirit form, unable to claim his place as a full archdemon in the human world yet. He was getting stronger, though, if he was able to take a human form.

He was after her to get to the red stone. It would lead him to the portal between Hell and earth where the spirit of the second archdemon – War – could emerge. She didn't know if he could read the blue stones or not to discover the location of the other girls who held the secrets to the locations of the remaining two archdemons, but she couldn't take the risk he did. None of the stones could fall into his possession.

She wiped tears from her eyes, still haunted by the sight of her friend and mentor being killed. She hesitated then picked up the green-blue rock.

All her working senses were engaged when she touched this one. It held the location of two, a duality she didn't yet understand. One was the inside of an apartment, with a TV playing, the scent of autumn spice lotion, and a laptop. It was someone, probably a woman, based on the pink laptop.

The location of the second spirit was starkly different. Soaring overhead, floating over apartment buildings, a forest, a busy highway. She felt the cold of the fall night on her skin, the wind ruffle her hair.

This was Shadowman. If what she'd been told was true, he was trapped in spirit form in the human world, until he found the other three archdemons. When the four of them were together, they'd be able to summon their demon steeds from Hell and unleash the Apocalypse upon the world.

She shivered and set the two–toned stone down.

She left the red stone alone, fearing its secret.

Amira put them all away in the pouch and rested her head against the door.

She needed help. She couldn't hide forever. Soon, either the bad people tracking her or Shadowman would find her. Soon, she'd have to find the other girls. The first of the four archdemons from the Apocalypse was here. She'd been handed down the ancient secrets of her stones, except for the one that told her how to reverse what Shadowman was trying to do.

Did the other girls know? Was the secret to stopping the archdemons divided among the three guardians of the stones, just like the locations of the remaining three archdemons?

Pestilence. Death. War. Famine.

They were coming, and she had no idea what to do.

_Stay alive. Keep the stones safe._

# Four

While unexpected, Nathan wasn't too surprised to see one of his fellow guides waiting for him at the airport. He assumed if he was being directed to leave Tucson, he was going to be dealing with a bigger mess than usual.

Maggy was the second most effective guide, whose rating was also ninety-nine percent - above zero instead of below, like Nathan's. She did everything the right way while Nathan did everything his way. If the Other Side was assigning their top two guides to a mission, it was another sign that something was very wrong.

"Coffee," Maggy said, handing out the offering.

Nathan took it and began walking, not speaking to her. The tall, attractive brunette drew looks wherever she went. She knew him well enough to know he needed at least one large cappuccino in his system after an all-nighter before he was open to anyone talking to him.

Nathan gave her a sidelong glance. She appeared to be calm and was well put together as usual, but the nervous dart of her eyes gave her away. He didn't make her wait through his first coffee.

"What's wrong?" he asked as they reached the relative quiet of the parking garage.

"What makes you think something is wrong?" she asked too casually.

"You put the right amount of sweetener in my coffee. You must want me here for some reason," he replied. "Unless you called me for some naked reiki?"

A smile crossed Maggy's face, and he saw the tension ease from her. She chuckled.

"With you?" she asked, winking. "Any time."

He grunted and opened the car door, dropping into the driver's seat. There was something comforting about being around someone so familiar. He and Maggy had been a thing off and on for a few hundred years. She knew he needed three pink sweeteners in his cappuccino and that he always drove, even if it was her car. Likewise, he knew when his closest friend was upset and why she was twisting the ring on her finger.

He kept his observations to himself. The sight of nervousness from Maggy – the only woman he knew who could handle just about anything he could – made him concerned.

"How bad?" he asked.

"The worst."

"Ever?"

"Yeah."

"Spill."

She was quiet for a moment. Nathan gave her to the count of ten and focused on guiding the car out of the garage to the loop that circled the Dulles airport.

"We have to find someone," she started.

"Okay. Incarnated angel or guide?"

"Angel, first gen."

"Pedro can't help us?" he asked.

"Well... he can. He has. Sorta."

"We spent half a year naked together. You're really going to try to hide something from me?" Nathan challenged.

"That was a long time ago."

"We still are who we were then. At least, at our cores."

"Are you?" She peered at him curiously. "You haven't changed?"

"I told you I'd call you first if I did," Nathan replied, entertained she still held out for him to change his mind about getting married one day. Their relationship ended twenty years before. They'd barely spoken since, outside of official communications.

What was it with women wanting more from him?

"All right. Anyway, we know where she is. Through back channels, I figured out who she is. The challenge is twofold: we have to break her out first and then we have to keep her under the radar from everyone. As in, even Pedro and the rest of his crew."

Nathan glanced at her, weighing her words for a long moment. It was nearly impossible to hide from the angel corps as a whole.

"First things first. Break her out of where? Jail?" he asked.

"A mental institution."

"Interesting. Okay, for how long do we have to hide her?"

"Until we find what's chasing her," Maggy replied in a determined tone.

"Start from the beginning."

Maggy looked at him, surprised.

"I still know when you're lying," Nathan said. "Any time you want to stop..."

"Fine." Maggy sighed. "The angels won't trust us humans with the information. All I know is that I was charged with recovering a girl, a first gen whose spirit guide got killed."

"Yeah." Nathan frowned. "We can't die, unless a demon takes us out, someone from the Other Side gets rid of us or we blow ourselves up."

"Usually, yeah. But... this wasn't a demon." Maggy shook her head. "I'll tell you that part later. I just... put that all aside to focus on the mission."

Nathan wanted to pry more than anything but didn't. Maggy was highly disciplined, organized and most comfortable when handling things one at a time. With the polar opposite astrological sign – Leo - she didn't share his adaptability and preferred to follow the rules rather than think outside them.

"I tried twice to get this girl, Nate. You know I can and will break into anywhere, no questions asked. What Pedro didn't tell me, aside from a whole bunch of other shit, was that we're not the only ones after her. Something else is here, in Virginia, looking. It followed me both times, so I aborted my missions and went home."

"Demons?" he asked, intrigued by the unknown.

"I tried to tell Pedro about it, and he said it wasn't possible. A fallen angel."

"So, what? We deal with those all the time. Track them down, kill them and send them to Hell."

"This is a fallen _guardian_ angel. The first ever."

Nathan took this unexpected information in. There was the general angel corps, and there was the guardian angel corps, an elite group of angels who had earned their way to the top by their purity, good deeds and the unwavering belief in the sacredness of humans and life. For one to choose evil over good was unheard of, before this.

"I take it that this fallen angel is currently assigned to a human," he said, disturbed by the idea of the fallen guardian.

"Exactly. I can't even find the human," Maggy said in frustration. "Even if I did, I can't kill him per protocol, and that's the only way to free the fallen guardian to send it to Hell."

"In the meantime, the fallen guardian is able to do what demons can't."

"Yep. Go after this first gen. We know she's important, but Pedro won't tell us why. He gave me that little laugh and said not to worry, just to save her and keep her safe. But I want to know more, after Scott's death, so we're hiding her from the angels, until we figure out what's so important, a spirit guide got killed for it."

"This is good," Nathan said. "This will be a nice challenge."

Maggy appeared taken aback. She looked ready to say something but didn't.

"What do we do when we find the human?" Nathan asked. "A fallen guardian will be hell for us to try to manage."

"There's protocol that everyone else follows, and there's... your way of doing things," she said.

"You want me to kill the human anchoring the fallen guardian in the human world."

"Yeah." She studied him carefully. "You're not going to turn around and fly back to Arizona, are you?"

Nathan smiled. "You wouldn't ask if it wasn't the last resort, and I am not opposed to the idea, which you know from my history. Fighting a fallen guardian to get to its human will be a new experience. I'm looking forward to it."

"There might be other alternatives. I've got my people researching. But, just in case, I wanted to know that we could pull the trigger if needed."

"I get it. How long before this fallen guardian figures out you've got help?" he asked.

Maggy cleared her throat and held up a second cappuccino. "I got gear in the trunk. It's a few hours drive. We're doing this part my way."

He snorted. "You only want me because I have the worst rating in the guide corps and Pedro won't get rid of me."

"Duh. You never fail."

Nathan grinned. "What's your plan?"

"Break her out this evening. Hide her in my secret hiding spot, not the one Pedro got you, and then some naked reiki."

"Best plan ever."

They fell into silence. Maggy put up a GPS that began spouting directions at him. Nathan followed them, pensive. He'd never thought a guardian could fall. He wondered what caused it and if it would take what Maggy was preparing for in order to send the fallen guardian to Hell.

There were alternatives, but they all relied upon the guardian voluntarily going to Hell. Chances were, this fallen guardian wasn't about to cooperate.

Long ago, before he became a spirit guide, Nathan made a name for himself as a foot soldier in the Imperial Roman armies. He was a sentry with a unique gift that enabled him to access the Other Side in a way no other spirit guide, medium or spiritual healer in history ever had.

It had been a while, but he knew how to kill. He was in the same physical shape he'd been in as a soldier, his body frozen in time while at its peak performance, which he reached at the age of twenty-nine. He hadn't aged in three thousand years, and he hadn't forgotten what the blood of another felt like when it ran across his hands.

Wiser now than when he'd been a grunt, he also understood the value of life much more and in a way that only a spirit guide could. Peering into the depths of someone's soul was routine work for him. The idea of killing didn't discourage him from the mission, but he no longer found glory in chalking up the number of dead falling beneath his weapons.

No, death was a serious matter, something Maggy knew as well. If she was asking him to kill an innocent human, it was because she really thought there was no other way to salvage the rest of humanity.

And he wouldn't hesitate, no matter what he understood now about life and death.

# Five

"Aside from the detour, you drive well for a junior attorney," Mike told her.

_Like being a real attorney would make me a better driver?_ Kaylee waited until he stood then rolled her eyes and got out of the car.

Mike was constantly doling out backhanded compliments. She ignored him and opened the trunk to grab her notebook and his briefcase.

In a year, when Kaylee was able to take the bar again, she'd ditch this firm and never look back. She'd failed the first time around, but the firm kept her on as a junior attorney in training. Her internship paid poorly but at least it paid. It was the only reason she dealt with Mike, one of the firm's three partners.

Carrying his briefcase, Kaylee trailed him up the sidewalk towards the low brick building hedged on three sides by maple and oak trees. Flowers lined the sidewalk and front of the building, and the grass was newly cut, releasing its earthy scent into the sunny fall day.

The setting was serene and unassuming. She glanced up at the sign above the main entrance, noting how even the center's name was subdued in graceful lettering.

_Rosewood Mental Health Rehabilitation Center_

It sounded pretty for a nuthouse. She'd never been to such a place and braced herself for a scene out of a horror movie.

The lobby was just as peaceful as the façade. A gurgling waterfall was in one corner, a low mahogany reception desk directly opposite the door and a chic, S-shaped couch ran through the waiting area. It smelled of coffee and something resembling Kaylee's pumpkin spice lotion.

Mike waited a few feet away from the bright-eyed receptionist, his stoic look one of disinterest, like a rich man waiting for his butler to grab his coat.

_He's so much like my father. Is this why I can't stand him, or is Mike really a jerk?_

"Hi. We're here from Henry, Jones and Harrison Law Firm," Kaylee said, smiling at the receptionist. "We have an appointment to interview Dr. Rosewood for a case we're researching."

"Of course." The woman typed something into the computer. "His assistant is on his way down."

"Thanks." Kaylee stepped away from the desk to wait. She looked at the doors leading out of the reception area into the depths of the center. A small part of her wondered what was beyond them and if the center would resemble the scary sanatoriums she'd seen in a few horror movies.

She really didn't want to know. This part of the job made her nervous: going to strangers' houses and workplaces for depositions or interviews. She'd been to the ghettos in southeast DC one time too many with Mike to feel comfortable anywhere. Dressed in a suit more expensive than her car, Mike always looked the same. Bored, until someone important walked into the room. Then he'd perk up.

Kaylee's own clothing was conservative, as required by the law firm's dress code. Black suit dress and pumps. Her only flash of color was the fuchsia scarf and her rings, one amethyst, one golden topaz and the third aquamarine.

A form emerged from a side door, a slender young man in a suit.

"Mr. Harrison." He flashed a smile at Kaylee then Mike.

"I'm Kaylee. This is Michael Harrison the Third, one of the firm's partners," Kaylee said, aware of her routine duties to announce Mike like he was royalty.

"Pleasure. I'm Evan," the assistant said, shaking her hand. "Dr. Rosewood is expecting you, Mr. Harrison." He shook Mike's hand then motioned for them to follow.

Evan led them through a hallway of offices to an elevator. He tried to make small talk with Mike, but it didn't work. Kaylee stepped in, knowing Mike didn't rate assistants the time of day.

A few minutes later, they emerged onto the third floor in an open area lined on one side by a glass wall. A second receptionist sat at a smaller desk. She smiled when they entered.

Evan led them past her into an open office, where a thin, elderly man in slacks and a sweater sat behind a large desk. He rose but didn't smile.

"Dr. Rosewood," Mike said, thawing at last. "I'm Michael Harrison. I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to see us."

"Call me Clint, Michael." His features naturally grave, Clint Rosewood's eyes warmed some. "Evan, coffee."

"Of course. Kaylee, Mr. Harrison, what can I get you?" Evan asked instantly.

"Cappuccino," Mike answered. "Water for Kaylee."

Another thing she hated about Mike: he assumed she didn't like coffee. Or maybe, he thought the help shouldn't have coffee. She didn't know.

She smiled when Evan's eyes slid to her. There was something about him she liked. He seemed friendly, nice.

"Spring, filtered or bubbling?" he asked.

"Filtered," Mike replied for her.

"Spring," she said simultaneously.

Mike glanced at her in disapproval. Evan slid away, and Mike's attention shifted to the only person that really mattered to him at that moment.

"I hope not to take up too much of your time," Mike said.

"Please, sit with me."

The chairman and head doctor of a private medical empire spanning the DC area motioned to a small conference room table in the corner. He and Mike sat. Kaylee opened Mike's briefcase and spun it to face him so he could pull out whatever he needed. When he was finished, she closed it and cleared the table, seating herself. She slid Mike's pen to him.

"You are an effective team," Dr. Rosewood commented, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Kaylee found herself smiling back. Something about the good doctor made her feel more comfortable than she had at any other routine office visit.

"We've been training her," Mike replied.

_Like a dog._ Kaylee didn't react when Mike glanced at her, knowing she had to play the cheerful assistant role in public. In private, they argued regularly. Knowing who her father was, even Mike wouldn't dare fire her, which gave her some leeway in dealing with him.

Right now, she was considering taking the keys and leaving him. He'd call her dad, who would call and yell at her, but for the time between ditching Mike and dealing with her father, she'd be happy for once. No other junior put up with Mike's obnoxious, pretentious behavior.

_I really need to take time off._

The two men began talking. Another thought entered her mind, and she tilted her head, gazing at Mike.

Maybe stress wasn't the issue. Maybe working for him was the heaviness she felt around her shoulders. It was back, the Shadowman's presence. It made the room feel too confined and the sense of being watched returned. The hair at the back of her neck was soon standing at attention. If she looked over her shoulder, she thought she might see it this time.

The sensations were getting stronger. A glimpse at the shaded window made her think it was night outside. She looked again and saw the trees outside Dr. Rosewood's office.

She was starting to doubt her eyes.

Evan returned, placing a chilled bottle of water before her and cappuccino in front of Mike.

"Young lady, why don't you accompany Evan for a tour?" Mr. Rosewood asked. "Michael and I need to talk in private for a few minutes."

She glanced at Mike, who nodded. Kaylee rose and went to the door, where Evan awaited her. Uncomfortable at the thought of touring an insane asylum, she nonetheless was eager to get away from Mike. He was driving her crazy after the three-hour drive trapped in the car with him.

The door closed behind Evan. His laid back air helped her relax.

"I'll have to admit that I'm not too excited about a tour," she told him.

"Few are," he replied. "It's not that bad. My father has done a great deal to try to lift the stereotypes surrounding mental health care."

"Your father?"

"Dr. Rosewood. I'm learning the ins and outs of his business," Evan said and led her down the hall. "Psychiatry isn't my thing, but administration is. I'm a medical doctor by trade. He's getting too old to handle both and his first love is helping people."

"That's commendable," she said. "I wasn't expecting it to be so nice. Your father must care a great deal about his patients."

"He does. He follows a more European method of treatment. Addressing the illness holistically – diet, counseling and limited meds – instead of drugging someone up and tossing them in a cell."

She listened, glancing around. Evan swiped a badge to lead her into what looked like a dorm area. The wood flooring and modern décor gave the hallway a homey feel. Bedrooms lined the hall and each one was neat, welcoming and warm.

Definitely not the sterile white walls and cement flooring she expected. A few of the patients were in their rooms while others gathered around in a common area with game tables, a television and an arts and crafts corner.

"Our Tier One patients stay on this floor. They are here voluntarily. Some for drug and alcohol treatment, some for milder illnesses and others who are trying to deal with complicated life issues," Evan explained quietly. "We let them keep their own clothing and assign each a room, with or without a roommate, depending on their comfort zone."

"This is nicer than my apartment building," she murmured.

"Not every floor is. We have some who require special, round the clock attention and a few criminally insane who were deemed appropriate for rehab. But I like to start off the tour stressing that people who suffer from a mental illness are just like everyone else. Environmental factors and lifestyle play a big part in one's soundness of mind."

_Maybe I need to check myself in._ Kaylee sneaked a peek behind her, expecting to see the Shadowman the way she did in a dream.

He wasn't visible, but she felt it there, like a person following too closely behind her. Evan led her to an elevator at the end of the floor and punched a button.

"You said lifestyle," she said. "You mean like stress?"

"Yeah. Stress, divorce, loss of a loved one, foreclosure. Any kind of life trauma."

"Stress seems to be the least of those issues," she said, frowning.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped into it.

"Not so. Stress builds up its bad effects over time," he replied. "It gradually wears you down. Those other events can hit relatively suddenly."

The elevator was crowded with her, Evan and the Shadowman. Kaylee began sweating.

"That makes sense," she said. "Stress wins by attrition." _Like my father._ He wore her down over time and guilted her into going into law.

Evan chuckled.

The doors opened, and he stepped into a hallway with hard flooring and tea-colored walls. The doors along this corridor were sealed closed with small windows in them.

"This is the other end of the spectrum," Evan said. "What's important is to remember that these people will one day be on the top floor."

"You really think so?" She peered into one window and saw an unconscious patient strapped to a bed.

"I do. I've seen it happen. I've seen my father turn someone who was viewed a lost cause into a functioning member of society. Degree, family, library card – everything," Evan said proudly. "It takes a lot of work and time, but he's done it."

They entered a second common area. The three patients were dressed in uniform white and under the close watch of three orderlies that resembled bouncers. One of the patients was a beautiful girl no older than nineteen while the other two were middle-aged men. The girl sat in a cozy chair, knitting, while the men were watching television.

As Kaylee stepped into the area, the girl in the corner lazy boy chair looked up. Her eyes were deep blue, a shade that riveted Kaylee's attention.

The girl wasn't looking at her, she realized. She was looking _past _her.

Kaylee glanced back.

"Her name is Amira. She's deaf and suffers hallucinations," Evan whispered. "She's supposed to be in Tier One but refuses to leave this floor. I guess she's comfortable. We haven't been able to diagnose her yet, partially because she rarely speaks. Brain MRIs only tell us so much, and she won't tell us the rest."

Shadowman was crowding her. Kaylee shrugged and took a step forward to see if the strange sense eased. It didn't.

"Stay right here. I'm going to check in with Father. Sometimes he sends me on tours then realizes he can't work the cappuccino machine," Evan said. He moved away, towards a nurse's desk.

Kaylee shivered. She didn't move, afraid of distracting any of the patients.

Amira was staring in the direction where Kaylee felt the presence.

She turned around. Nothing out of the ordinary was there. Her eyes lingered on the nearest orderly then on Evan, who leaned over the nurse's desk in the far corner to reach the phone.

"You see him." The voice was awkwardly loud, as if the speaker wasn't able to gauge the volume at which she spoke.

Kaylee jerked and faced Amira, who had left the corner and stood a few feet away. She clutched her knitting project, her eyes wide. Her features and height gave her the appearance of a model.

"I, um..." Kaylee stopped, recalling that the girl couldn't hear.

Amira's gaze dropped to her lips.

"Can you read lips?" Kaylee asked. Her face grew warm, and she hoped she wasn't offending the woman.

Amira nodded.

"Can you see... him?" Kaylee mouthed the words.

Another nod. "I hear him. You're keeping him here." The loud voice drew the attention of the bouncer and patients.

Kaylee shifted uncomfortably. She placed a finger to her mouth to shush the girl, not wanting to end up locked in the basement with the rest of the crazies if overheard.

"What is it?" she mouthed again.

Amira's gaze was past her. She followed the movement of something invisible, something Kaylee felt shift from behind her to beside her to in front of her. Shadowman was between them, only Kaylee couldn't see it.

"No!" Amira said. She was staring into the space between them, oblivious of Kaylee.

"No what?" Kaylee asked uneasily.

The woman tilted her head, as if listening.

"You shouldn't be here," she said.

Kaylee inched back, not understanding what was going on.

"No!" Amira's face flushed. She shook her head.

Shadowman shoved her back a few steps. Amira slapped at him, and Kaylee backpedaled.

Suddenly, Amira's gaze sharpened and settled on Kaylee. She gripped her knitting needles.

From the corner of her eye, Kaylee saw an orderly headed their way.

"You have to go," Amira said, a mix of anger and sorrow in her voice. "I'm sorry. It's the only way."

"Evan –" Kaylee started to turn.

The orderly reached for Amira and suddenly was flying across the room, flung by the invisible Shadowman. He slammed into a wall.

Kaylee stared, shocked.

"I'm sorry," Amira said.

Kaylee whirled and saw the woman had the knitting needles raised. They plunged downward, and Kaylee stifled a scream. Hot pain tore through her shoulder.

Stumbling away, Kaylee looked around wildly for somewhere to hide from the needle-wielding maniac. Amira chased after her, needles raised and tears on her face.

Suddenly, she stopped and spun. Seconds later, she flew upward and smashed into the ceiling.

Flailing, she stayed there, pinned in place by something invisible.

Warmth flowed down Kaylee's arm. She looked from the inhuman sight of Amira stuck to the ceiling to her arm. Her white shirt was soaked.

Someone tried to kill her. Someone invisible had flung a football player sized man across the room and pinned a deaf girl to the ceiling.

Kaylee touched the blood, her ears roaring. She was bleeding.

What the hell just happened? Had she not woken up this morning after all?

"Place your hand over the wound to stop the blood."

Disoriented, she realized someone dressed all in black stood before her. He was tall and wide with a voice that didn't sound quite right. She looked up.

Shadowman had no face.

She slid into a faint.

# Six

Shocked when Shadowman dropped her instead of killing her, Amira sprinted back to her room. Her heart was racing, the only sound after the chaos in the common area. She slammed her door closed and grabbed a handful of moonstones. She sank against the door, waiting for the Shadowman to come for her.

With tears on her face, she huddled in the corner of her room.

What horrified her more? That Shadowman had found her, or that she'd done the unthinkable and possibly killed someone? She now understood the duality of his stone. He was a fallen guardian, not just a fallen angel. It meant his life was connected to that of the human to which he was assigned, hence the two energies possessed by the stone.

His human was innocent, adorable even, with ears that stuck out from silky blond hair, delicate facial features and large, wise blue eyes.

And Amira had tried to take her life.

She sobbed into her hands. Human life was the most sacred of the sacred for an angel. As a first gen, she wasn't far removed from the Other Side. She stood in awe of the humans in general, more so knowing how much adversity they faced. She was facing her own, and there were times when she didn't think she was going to survive.

After a few minutes, she realized Shadowman wasn't coming. Had she succeeded in murdering his host?

What did that mean for her own soul? Killing was forbidden.

She pulled out the two-toned stone from her velvet pouch and held it. Her heart prayed the girl she hurt was okay, while logically, she knew that Shadowman's host was going to have to die in order to banish him to Hell, where he couldn't hurt anyone and most importantly, couldn't start the chain of events that would unleash the Apocalypse on the planet.

Was destroying one life worth saving so many others?

She squeezed the stone.

Both were alive – Shadowman and the woman. The woman was unconscious, while Shadowman hovered over her. Amira sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued about the link between the two. She knew if the host died, Shadowman went to Hell.

It wasn't possible for a demon to be concerned for a human, but where demons operated much like angels – out of instinct - Shadowman was cognizant of how his existence was dependent on the woman's.

As she watched, she calmed, seeing something else.

Angels only saw good. Demons only saw evil. Humans were blessed with the ability to see both and the free will to choose between them.

Shadowman saw both. He stepped away from the woman when Evan reappeared, knowing the fifth gen meant to help. He was sentient, which meant he understood his life depended on that of his host. He took a form when necessary and understood who posed a threat to his anchor and who could help. How far would he go to protect his host?

The two-toned stone was one of balance. It was half his, half the woman's.

She sensed the vibrations of footsteps then the sensation of someone inserting a key into the lock above her head.

Amira's eyes snapped open, and the thought fled.

She shoved the stones into the velvet pouch and tossed it under the bed then rose and waited.

The orderly that entered appeared stressed and held a syringe. He pointed to his mouth.

"This will calm you down," he mouthed.

Amira nodded and swallowed hard. She understood that actions had consequences and right now, they thought she really was crazy after stabbing someone. While scared, she'd never in her life hurt or tried to hurt anyone.

She held out her arm, trembling. The orderly was kind and quick. He was her favorite of them all, the one who helped her set out her moonstones originally and who checked up on her once a day.

"Thank you," she said the words.

At his nod, she knew he understood. He took her arm and led her to the bed.

Already, the drugs were taking hold. Amira sank onto the bed and soon, darkness floated across her mind. Her last thought was of Shadowman's host again.

_What if the stone led me to her for a reason?_

# Seven

Kaylee awoke with a jolt, grateful it was another nightmare.

Except that she didn't have fluorescent lighting or tan walls at her apartment. She twisted her head to see a small tray of medical items on a low counter nearby. She sat and groaned, pain radiating down her arm.

Her left arm was in a sling.

"You okay?" Evan asked, poking his head in at the sound of her pain.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "My head feels... heavy and my arm hurts."

"No surprise there." He slid on gloves and crossed to her. His expert gaze took in the bandage around her shoulder before he peered into her eyes. "We gave you a shot of painkillers and antibiotics. You'll be groggy for a day or two. The good news is that she missed anything important."

"So that really happened?" Kaylee asked. She checked out her bandages, unable to see the damage beneath thick white gauze.

"About that." He rested a hand on her thigh absently, frowning. " _What_ happened? I checked the surveillance video, and there's a weird gap."

Kaylee hesitated. What did she say? That Amira had seen the Shadowman, had a conversation with him then tried to kill her?

That _she_ had seen the Shadowman?

"I don't know," Kaylee said finally. "She was talking to like, someone who wasn't there then she stabbed me."

"We didn't have her pegged for the violent kind at all." Evan was puzzled. "She's been docile and gentle since arriving a few weeks ago. This is very uncharacteristic for someone like her."

"Oh, god, can I have a shirt?" Kaylee asked, realizing she was wearing a bra and skirt.

"Sure. Yours was ruined. I have my workout clothes here. They're clean," he added quickly. "I do laundry here sometimes." Faint pink spread across his face. "Father hates that."

Kaylee almost laughed, startled by the admission that the man who would inherit a medical empire did his laundry at work.

Evan brought over a soft t-shirt and helped her into it. Moving her shoulder hurt, though the pain was warm and distant. She could barely feel her arm. He repositioned her sling. She sighed, exhausted by the small movements.

"We have a few extra rooms. You're welcome to stay here for the night," Evan said.

She sought the most diplomatic response she could muster. "I respect your work and your father's dedication, but I will never live it down if I stay in a mental health center tonight."

He laughed. "Yeah your boss wasn't about to wait for you."

"He took the car?"

"Yeah."

_Son of a bitch._ Another reason to despise Mike. "I'll get a cab."

"Put these on. I'm a little obsessive about clothes matching," Evan said. "You can't leave here in a dress skirt and t-shirt." He placed a pair of workout pants on a chair. "I'll see if I can get you a cab."

He closed the door and left her in peace.

Kaylee sighed. _This isn't happening. I didn't go to a nuthouse and get attacked by a patient._

She wriggled out of her skirt and into the pants. The clothing was far more comfortable. She tried to fix her hair but stopped when her left arm wouldn't work right.

The presence crept up behind her again. She twisted, heartbeat soaring.

_He_ wasn't visible, but she knew he was there.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"I saved your life," the hiss responded.

She was seeing _and_ hearing things now?

"Um, who are you talking to?" asked a voice behind her.

She faced the open door, where Evan stood waiting.

"No one. Myself," she answered.

"There aren't any cabs this late. It's a three hour drive anyway," Evan said.

"Oh. How late is it?"

"Almost eight."

Kaylee calculated how long it would take for Mike to wrap up his meeting and return back to the office.

"Mike... Mr. Harrison didn't send the car back for me?" she asked.

"No. He asked if you were okay and left."

_I can't stay here._ Whether it was the drugs or her sudden fear of mental health centers, Kaylee felt like she was near tears. Evan's face softened into a warm smile.

"Look, I'll drive you home," he said. "I planned on working late, but it is Thursday. I normally start my weekends Thursday night with a trip to the Bow Bar."

Kaylee's brow furrowed. The Bow – short for Rainbow – Bar was a well-known gay hotspot in DC.

It would figure the most pleasant, attractive man she'd met in years was gay.

"I'd owe you forever," she said.

"I owe you. Your boss is probably going to sue us for what happened."

"Only if it gets his name in the paper," she said wryly. "He is all about Mike Harrison."

"I got that impression. My father didn't care for him too much anyway. Maybe you can represent us in court." Evan winked.

"This time next year, yes."

"You okay on your feet?"

She nodded.

"You'll be stiff tomorrow." He held up her purse and two pill bottles. "More antibiotics and painkillers. If it gets unbearable, call me, and I'll write you a new script. I told your boss you needed a few days off."

A forced vacation. Was this what happened when she ignored the signs she needed a break? Some lunatic stabbed her?

Kaylee nodded. She walked into the hall, too aware of the Shadowman at her back.

"Can I ask you something, Evan?" she ventured. "About stress?"

"Of course."

They were in the hallway on the third floor, the one with the low risk patients. The television was on with one man stretched on the couch while orderlies walked through checking rooms.

"Can stress be..." she hesitated. "Can it feel like someone is always dogging your every move?"

Evan studied her as they walked. "It can take on many forms. A person whose mind is taxed to its limit can invent any number of ways of trying to express itself. Basically, it's a warning system. When the warning becomes physical, it means you really do need to find better coping mechanisms and re-evaluate your life."

"That's not what I wanted to hear," she responded. "I haven't even passed the bar, let alone gone to trial. How can I be so –"

The lights flashed out, leaving them in complete darkness for a split second. Auxiliary lighting blinked on, the low glow illuminating the corridor.

"Is that normal?" she asked, hushed.

"During storm season." Evan sounded doubtful. "Head through the door there to the elevators. First floor is reception. I'll meet you down there after I check in to make sure there aren't any issues." He started back the way they'd come.

Kaylee watched him for a second then followed his instructions. She prayed the doors in the basement weren't now all gaping open for their knitting-needle wielding maniacs to escape and attack her.

The thought made her breathing shallow. She punched the button to the elevator three times.

Shadowman left abruptly. Kaylee looked around, uncertain why his disappearance made her feel more unsettled.

_I saved your life._

That was one version of things, and it might've been the right one. He _had_ kept Amira from stabbing her again. But was she ready to accept that an invisible presence that sat on her balcony at night and stalked her the rest of the day had not only helped her but spoken to her?

Did it make her as crazy as the people here?

She hit the elevator button once more.

It yawned open, and she cringed to see the auxiliary lighting didn't extend to the dark depths of the elevator. She couldn't see inside.

_Don't be an idiot,_ she scolded herself. _Besides, there's only one way out of here._

Kaylee walked into the elevator and clicked the button for the first floor. She frowned, seeing the button for the basement glowing as well. As if someone else was in the elevator already.

She started to turn.

Someone grabbed her.

# Eight

Nathan had been holding his breath, sensing the figure in the third floor lobby debate whether or not to get onto the dark elevator. He watched the colors of her aura, puzzled, but not interested enough to risk being discovered. The lighting was too low for him to make out anything but her shape. She looked... thick. Short and bulky.

Just when the elevator doors started to close, she waved her hand between them and moved into the elevator.

She was headed to the first floor. Probably a doctor or nurse working late who took the brief blackout as a hint it was time to leave.

He waited until the doors closed firmly before easing behind her and grabbing her. One arm snaked around her midsection. His other hand went across her mouth.

"Quiet," he said.

Her clothing was bulky. The woman in his arm wasn't bulky or thick. Her head came just to his chin, and her form felt firm, a layer of toned muscle beneath soft skin. She smelled like a cross between spice and antiseptic.

He tugged her back to the corner, automatically adjusting to the fact she seemed off-balance. She wasn't struggling and had made no attempt to scream. Her body molded perfectly into his, her hair tickling his nose and her scent lacing through his senses. There was an intangible familiarity about her or maybe, the sense she was in his arms because she was supposed to be.

_Something's not right. I shouldn't feel like I know her._

"At the count of three, I'm going to let you talk. You're going to tell me where patient forty one is," he said slowly, his lips pressed to her ear. "If you scream or give me any other answer but the one I want, this may not go well for you. Nod if you understand."

She nodded.

"One, two, three." He released her mouth and wrapped his arm around her neck instead.

The woman's breathing was uneven. "I don't know."

"You don't know," he repeated.

One of the gifts he had as a spirit guide was the ability to tap into the energy from the Other Side. He did so now and pushed it into the woman. What her aura wouldn't tell him, the energy might. It would read her body.

She was recently injured and under the influence of some sort of drug, which explained her strange calm.

With one arm around her neck, he released her body and reached across her to grip her left shoulder.

"No!" Her cry was a strangled whisper. She squirmed, tensing against his body.

"Easy, sweetheart," he replied. "Patient forty one." He gripped her shoulder. What he did would hurt initially. His hand almost glowed from the amount of hot energy he shoved into the wound.

"Stop!" the woman gasped. She elbowed him with her good arm, trying to wriggle away.

Nathan leaned into her, trapping her between his body and the elevator wall.

She was panting, the colors of her aura all over the place.

"I don't know," she said again. "I came for... a tour. Got stabbed by some crazy chick. I just woke up. I don't know."

Her body said it was the truth. Before Nathan could ask anything else, the woman slumped, unconscious.

He sighed, irritated. The girl they came to break out wasn't in the room she was assigned to on the third floor. Maggy had said to check the basement second. They had limited time with the power being out before it was restored. He needed to find her and get out.

And here he was with some other woman unconscious in his arms. He debated leaving her then decided not to. She'd had a rough enough day.

The door dinged, indicating they'd reached the main floor. Nathan balanced the woman and bent, lifting her. The lobby was dark, and he made out the shape of a couch.

He crossed to it and set the small woman on it. Unable to see her face, he leaned down and placed his hand on her wound again. She murmured in objection but didn't wake.

The energy was pooling around her injury. She'd be healed by morning.

He drew circles counter clockwise in the air above her to prevent the energy from escaping. Satisfied, Nathan returned to the elevator and went to the basement.

The door opened.

While auxiliary power had kicked in on the upper three floors, it hadn't here. Orderlies moved through the hallways quickly with flashlights, securing doors and guiding patients back to their rooms. Nathan used their auras as a guide to track who went where and moved stealthily through the hallway, guided by a rainbow of colors only he was able to see.

The girl he sought would glow white and sparkly. He glanced through the windows of rooms as he walked. All the way at the other end of the hallway, two rooms before the dead end, he found her.

Nathan tested the door. It was locked. He reached into a cargo pocket and whipped out a lock pick set, suspecting things were about to get messy when the lights came on and the beefy orderlies spotted him.

He knelt calmly. He traced the outline of the lock with one hand then pulled out his first tool.

The door opened. He looked up, surprised to see the first gen angel he sought standing in the doorway.

Her aura flared a few different colors – yellow for anxiety, green for excitement and blue for sorrow – before it faded to pure white once more.

Nathan stood. She was shaking and tall. He started to speak quietly then stopped, aware she couldn't hear him. Instead, he rested a hand on her arm and pushed energy into her, knowing a first gen angel would understand the comforting gesture.

She took his hand and squeezed it.

It was enough for now. Nathan shoved the locksmith tools into his pocket and tugged her down the hallway. They paused before the common area, and he calculated quickly how to weave through the chaos before him. After a few seconds, he drew the first gen angel into his side so he could steer her body, then plunged into the mess.

She clung to him, trembling, as he moved deftly through the orderlies and patients milling and darting through the common area and hall. Nathan stretched his senses, the ones originally crafted during war in the Roman Empire to predict an enemy's movement before he moved.

He reached the other side of the common area and released her, taking her hand.

His watch vibrated, indicating he was out of time. Nathan slid a knit mask over his face then ran. They reached the door separating a waiting area and elevators from the patients just as the lights went back on.

The locks were back in place. He pushed at the door. The keycard reader was glowing once more, indicating he'd need an access key.

"Hey!" someone shouted from down the hall.

Nathan whirled and drew one knife. He took the first gen's hand and placed it on the keycard reader. She nodded, and he stepped away from her.

The orderly racing down the hallway stopped at the sight of the wicked curved blade of his knife. Nathan kept it lowered in warning rather than as a threat. While the orderly tried to think of how to react, Nathan nudged the angel with his elbow.

The door clicked open behind him. He snatched her hand and yanked her through then slammed it shut.

"Good girl," he said, aware she didn't hear him.

He punched the elevator button, eyes on the door.

"Nate?" Her loud voice jarred him.

Nathan glanced at her, taking in the youthful features and slender body. Her eyes were slightly glazed. She was drugged, though for what reason, he couldn't imagine. Maggy described her as the last person on the planet who would hurt anyone.

He raised his index finger to his lips. The elevator doors opened, and they plunged in. He went up to the fourth floor, used mainly for storage.

He checked the landing area before motioning for the girl to follow. Nathan grimaced at the alarm that sounded when he shoved through the door leading to the single stairwell in the entire building. He went up, two stairs at a time, then shoved his shoulder against the door leading onto the roof.

The fall night was chilly and clear. The blare of alarms was in the air, and floodlights lit up the area around the center in every direction except one: the side leading to the forest.

He took the first gen's hand and trotted across the roof until he reached the gear he'd stashed earlier. The anchor was in place. He tossed the rope down, knelt on one knee and motioned to the girl to climb on his back.

She did, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he stood, she gave a loud, drunken laugh. Nathan snorted and clipped himself to the rope.

He made his way down the side of the building, unclipped himself, and gently shrugged the girl off his back.

"You're supposed to be faster than this," Maggy hissed.

"She wasn't where you said she was," he snapped. "I had to improvise."

"Randy, take her. We'll create some sort of diversion," Maggy said to the guide lingering in the shadows.

Heart pounding at the narrow escape, Nathan couldn't help thinking he hadn't felt this alive in a few hundred years.

The first gen hesitated when Randy moved forward. She twisted to peer up at Nathan uncertainly. He nudged her forward. She didn't resist when Randy took her arm and led her away.

"Angels always trusted you," Maggy said. "I never understood it."

"They know I'm an impartial third party." Nathan glanced up from the rope he wound in his hands.

"Whatever. I figured it was the opposite. They know you care, on some level only they can see."

"Oh, snap. Sistah Maggy's gone and accused me of having emotions," he teased. "She's drugged. You said she was icing sweet."

"She is," Maggy replied. "She checked herself in and started out as being there voluntarily."

Nathan rolled his eyes. He tucked the rope away and pulled out a flare and fireworks. They had a few different plans for creating diversions. This was the least harmful.

"He was here," Maggy said. "The fallen guardian."

Nathan froze, senses sharpening. He didn't sense anything but the normal guardian angels that were always crowding around their humans. They were like tiny bursts of warmth.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah. It was brief then gone. I grabbed the visitor list while you were ambling through the place, taking your sweet time. And her file, since we don't know anything about this girl."

"Hold that sarcasm," he growled. "I'll be back." He trotted away, the opposite direction that Randy had gone. A few hundred feet into the forest, he lit the flare and set down the fireworks. In about three minutes, they'd go off.

He sprinted back to Maggy, tapped her arm and continued to the rendezvous point. She ran behind him. The fireworks exploded in the trees and sky behind them, covering the sounds of Randy starting the van.

Nathan flung himself into one of the bucket seats in back, followed closely by Maggy. She slammed the door closed.

"Go, Randy," she directed. "Lights off until we hit the highway."

"Got it."

Nathan twisted to check on the first gen. The girl was huddled in a ball on the bench seat. He touched her, using his energy to assess her. She was healthy and dozing.

"Whatever they gave her is strong," he said. "What is she doing there?"

"We think she freaked out after her guide got killed," Maggy said. "The center is one of the regional safe spots. It's run by a tenth gen and his son, a fifth gen. They keep a stock of moonstones around, so it's possible her guide told her to come here before he was murdered."

"Her room was full of them," Nathan said, recalling the moonstones he'd seen when Amira opened the door to her room. "If these guys are gens, why not just ask them to send her home with us?"

"Because no one can know about her or where she goes. Pedro said this much," Maggy replied. "She got caught up in the law before she admitted herself. We think she was trying to hide in the nuthouse so she didn't have to go to court."

"Smart. Court is way too visible, if a fallen guardian is targeting her."

"Exactly."

Nathan was quiet, thinking. Something else was going on. He didn't know what, but he knew Maggy wasn't telling him the full story.

"Nate." The first gen's voice made him look back. She stretched out a hand to him, her blue eyes swimming with emotions in the dim light of the van's dashboard.

"Right here, babe." He took her hand instinctively, accustomed to the often-fragile first gens. They were almost like children, and he was the older brother charged with taking care of them. He leaned down to the bag he'd brought with him and withdrew a snow globe.

Handing it to her, he saw her timid smile. She took the sparkle-filled ball and shook it, settling back onto the seat.

"You are the most abrasive guide in the corps, and angels love you. How do you do that?" Maggy grumbled.

"The same reason you were always in a hurry to take your clothes off for me," he replied, amused. "I've got that animal magnetism. Angels see someone they can trust, and women see someone they want to fuck."

"You smoke, drink, never follow the rules and refuse to commit to anyone. There is nothing about you remotely redeemable," she snapped.

"Which is why I'm the first one someone in trouble calls and the only guide every angel in existence trusts. Oh, and I'm sure you'll still be interested in some no-strings-attached naked reiki tonight," he replied, unfazed.

Maggy was pissed. Her aura went red, and she climbed into the passenger seat, away from him.

Nathan smiled. He rested his head back, tired after the travel and long day. His thoughts went to the woman in the elevator, and he was startled that the memory of her spicy scent and shapely body stirred his blood. Her body had devoured his energy in a sign she was unbalanced spiritually.

She wasn't his to fix, though. Whoever her guide was, he was slacking.

He was truly tired, if he got a hard on about some stranger whose face he hadn't even seen when he had a beauty like Maggy nearby. Maggy tried to play hard-to-get, but she always folded. Before dawn, Nathan would be sated and sleeping naked next to her in bed.

_Like old times._

Randy drove them back towards Washington DC, where they reached a townhouse in the suburb of Clarendon, Virginia, a few hours before dawn. Nathan got out of the car and waited, offering a hand to the drowsy first gen.

Amira sighed, her pupils still dilated in a sign she was under the influence of drugs. She clutched the snow globe in one hand and a small dice pouch in the other. When she saw him looking at it, she shoved it quickly into her pocket.

"Secrets?" he asked.

She shook her head and hurried away, following Randy into the house.

"Might be a good thing she's drugged up," Nathan observed.

"How can one, sweet little first gen be at the middle of this?" Maggy voiced his puzzlement out loud. "And why won't Pedro tell us anything?"

"You know Pedro. There's no telling what he's thinking at any given time," Nathan said. He trailed Amira into the house, his eyes on her.

She was nervous, peering into each room they passed as if something was tracking her. It was a dead giveaway that there was at least one person who knew what was going on.

"Full bar," Nathan said in approval as they reached the second level. "Stocked?"

"Of course," Maggy answered.

Nathan crossed to it. He caught Amira's eye and signaled for her to sit on the couch in the adjacent living room. She did so while Randy put on a pot of coffee and Maggy peeled off the weapons and long-sleeved shirt to reveal a snug t-shirt beneath.

His gaze swept over her lithe, slender frame in appreciation. Maggy was always good in bed, even if they often butted heads outside the bedroom.

Nathan poured himself a double shot of scotch on the rocks then took his drink into the living room. Amira and Maggy sat on the couch, while he chose the chair directly across from both.

"All right, girls. Let's talk," he said calmly. "Who wants to tell me her secret first?"

The two women exchanged a look. Amira clenched her snow globe harder while Maggy sighed and loosened her ponytail to shake her hair loose.

"Amira, why is a fallen guardian chasing you?" Nathan asked. He sipped his drink, refusing to look away from her.

She hesitated. "Because I know where a gateway to Hell is. He wants to find it."

Nathan lowered his drink, not expecting the frank response or the severity of her claim.

"I don't know how he found me," Amira's unguarded voice was laced with distress and sorrow. "Scott told me to hide, that Shadowman can't find me, no matter what. And then they killed him."

"Shadowman. The fallen guardian's name?"

She nodded.

"Do you know the name of his human host?"

She shook her head.

"I might know that," Maggy said, pulling out a piece of folded paper from her pocket. "I tore this out before we left." She read through it. "Of the twelve visitors who came to the center yesterday, only one came to see Amira." She held out the visitor log to Nathan.

He stretched forward to take it and set his drink on the coffee table.

"Michael Harrison, Esquire," he read. "I don't think it's a coincidence that this Michael came by, and suddenly Shadowman knows where she is."

Amira was staring at the floor, distraught.

"It's got his address and everything," Nathan observed. "I think we need to pay him a visit."

"Okay, but we're not just walking in there, if Shadowman is around. He'll know us on sight," Maggy objected. "Let's put together some sort of plan, Nate. I know you work solo, but this is important."

"I understand," he said. "I'm not opposed to working on teams when necessary. You know I can handle a demon, though, which makes me think you're withholding information, too."

"Yeah, well, we're not the only ones who might be interested in Mike," Maggy said.

"They killed Scott, Nathan," Amira said out of the blue, meeting his gaze again.

Maggy looked at her fast enough that Nathan sensed this was one of the secrets.

He leaned forward. "Who?"

"Other guides." Amira's eyes watered. First gens didn't deal with violence and death well.

"He wasn't killed by demons?" Nathan's eyebrows shot up.

"No," Maggy said softly. "We thought at first it was that Satanist cult up in Maryland. They've got this insanely effective second gen named Eddy who can carve a pumpkin in two seconds blindfolded."

Nathan listened, aware that it was very rare for a second gen to lose his faith so completely that he chose to commit evil against the very humans he'd been protecting two generations before. It was yet another omen that whatever was happening, it was much greater than just one fallen guardian.

"But she's right. It was guides." Maggy paused, troubled. "There's a vigilante group called the Greater Good Group, or 3G. They're made up of guides and some first through fifth gen incarnated angels. Their agenda appears to be to take a more aggressive stance fighting evil or perceived evil among humans. Pedro refuses to talk to me about them, but I don't think they're affiliated with the Other Side anymore."

"I can see that," Nathan said thoughtfully. "When I first started, there was a time when I thought that the angels were too respectful of free will. Why wait for someone to choose evil, if you know that's what's in his or her heart? Why not just fix that now?"

"Yeah. I still feel that way sometimes."

"I do, too. I think, to an extent, we have to be proactive. But I understand now that Pedro and the angels want people to learn for themselves. Life is like sex. It's about the journey not the destination."

"I will agree with you there." Maggy smiled. "I guess what bothers me is that I find the 3G reasoning a little too appealing sometimes, especially when Pedro is being... Pedro."

"There's a purpose behind that," Nathan said. "I will never support a cause that kills other guides. We're chosen. Our duty is sacred. There's no excuse for anyone to kill Amira's guide, especially if they knew that Shadowman was after her."

"I know. I agree."

"Which leaves me wondering why they did it. They had to know this was the first time in history that a guide killed another."

"Well, since Cain and Abel."

"True. First time in recent history."

Amira was watching him speak. He eyed her.

She flushed.

"You know why, don't you?" he asked her. "C'mon, babe. Tell Nate what you're hiding."

Amira shook her head then promptly closed her eyes, effectively blocking him off completely from communicating with her.

Nathan laughed, surprised. "I like her."

Maggy shook her head.

"What's the plan, Mags?" he asked, picking up his drink and leaning back. "I'm sure you have one. Stopping 3G and Shadowman from chasing Amira? Tracking down Shadowman's human host? What's first?"

"Don't forget Eddy and the satanic cult that's been tracking my every movement. I'm not sure who or what they're after," she added. "You sound like you plan on sticking around. Don't you work alone?"

"Yeah. But I also help those who need it. Right now, you and Amira need me. I don't fail and I don't leave beautiful women hanging," he replied with a small smile.

He wasn't expecting to see the tears in Maggy's eyes. She ducked her head.

"Must be the AC," she mumbled, wiping her eyes. She held her head in her hands, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

Nathan sensed her desperation and empathized with her. She'd been alone juggling all this, calling him in only when she'd reached the point where she was overwhelmed. For a woman who had deftly handled everything that ever crossed her path, Maggy was near rock bottom.

He leaned forward to tap Amira's knee and get her attention.

"Go upstairs," he said, indicating the stairwell. "Pick a room and get some rest."

She appeared relieved and rose, treading quietly up the steps.

Nathan waited until she was gone then stretched forward and rested a hand on Maggy's arm, squeezing.

"I promised you some no-strings-attached naked reiki. We'll figure out what to do next in the morning," he said, standing.

Maggy gave a strangled laugh. "I've forgotten what the journey feels like."

"I'll remind you a few times," he replied. "C'mon." He held out his hand.

She took it, and he pulled her up then gave a light push towards the stairs, eyes sweeping over her body. She needed the release and comfort of being curled up naked in his arms, if not the sleep of someone who hadn't rested in days. He really didn't mind sacrificing himself to make her feel better.

They had all day Tuesday to plan.

# Nine

Wednesday morning, the second day after being attacked, Kaylee stared at the sling in her front seat. She was late, but she doubted anyone was expecting her. A message from Mike yesterday morning on her voicemail told her to come back in a few days, so she had time to heal and rest.

It was the least he could do after abandoning her, she recalled darkly.

What Mike didn't know: the wound disappeared Tuesday morning, which was why she hadn't picked up her phone. She'd been staring at herself in the mirror, unable to believe the small scars were all that was left.

Would anyone know better if she didn't wear her sling? Would they suspect her of being... weird?

Kaylee sighed. Shadowman had clung to her since the incident on Monday at the mental health center, like a hot blanket she couldn't kick off. She drummed her hands on the steering wheel for a moment then decided not to wear the sling. By now, everyone knew she'd been stabbed, but they wouldn't know how bad it was. She'd shrug it off and throw herself into her work.

She got out of her car and went into the building managed by Mike's law firm. The receptionist smiled, waving her over. Assuming she wanted to chat about the nightmare Monday, Kaylee prepped a canned response and approached.

"Mike's late today. Tanya dropped this off for him." The receptionist handed Kaylee a folder. "She wants one of you to call her as soon as you can."

"Thanks, Linda." Kaylee took it and left swiftly, before she was asked about her wound. She made her way down the hallway to her office, a small closet adjacent to Mike's, and tossed the file on her desk.

Looking around, she frowned. Walking into the building made her whole world feel heavy and depressing. Why was she in this line of work again?

_Because my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps_. It was the stupidest reasoning in the world, and yet, she still did it. She was afraid of disappointing him and even more afraid to push back and tell him no. Everyone on the entire planet respected and admired her father, and she felt the weight of the world's expectations alongside his on her back.

She pulled off her jacket and picked up the phone to call Tanya, the firm's public relations specialist.

"Tanya West."

"Hi Tanya, this is Kaylee. I hear you're looking for me or Mike?"

"Kaylee! Does he have you working after everything that happened?"

Kaylee sat down, recalling why calling Tanya first thing in the morning was never a good thing. The woman was a drama queen.

"It wasn't that bad," Kaylee said.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yep. Good as new."

"Hmm. Mike made it sound liked you were on life support or something."

"Nowhere near that bad," Kaylee assured her. "How can I help you?"

"Two things. I drafted a press release about your incident. If you want to review it this morning, I can publish it this afternoon," Tanya replied. "The second is more information I found from my media sources about the case Mike's been working on. Most of this won't be released, and it was hard to get this much. If he has any questions, I can try to get more answers, but it won't be easy."

Kaylee glanced at the file. "I'll let him know."

"Where do you want your story placed?"

"Nowhere."

"Mike's orders." Tanya laughed. "I assume he'll find a way to make it into the news with a statement about the event."

Kaylee tapped her fist against her forehead, frustrated. Mike was good at using people and incidents to build his reputation. She had done her best to lay low since meeting him, not wanting to give him an excuse to use her, too.

"Bury it as far back as you can in the print edition," she said. "Really. It wasn't bad. Just bizarre."

"It's a great story!"

"Yeah. Let me get the review done so you can run it," Kaylee said, hoping to encourage Tanya to leave her alone this morning.

"I'll be here!"

Kaylee hung up. She eyed the folder and grudgingly opened it. The press release was clipped to one side, but it was the image on the top of a pile of articles that caught her attention.

The girl that stabbed her.

_Patient Abducted From Rosewood Center._

Kaylee sat up, surprised. She read the article quickly, stunned to realize that Amira disappeared Monday night. No mention of Kaylee's incident Monday afternoon was in the short article. She flipped to the second.

_... Amira Santiago, age nineteen. Known as patient forty one, she was admitted..._

Forty one. Kaylee sat back.

_Shit._ The strange encounter in the elevator happened. Her memory was hazy enough for her to convince herself it was a dream when Evan woke her on the couch.

Heart fluttering, Kaylee realized she had been there when the girl was abducted. Not only that, but she'd had a run in with one of the abductors! He'd been tall and muscular though not in a bulky way. His hands had been so hot, his ultra-low voice soft like velvet.

Monday was going down in her book as the strangest night of her life! She knew Mike was going to interview Dr. Rosewood about Amira, who had witnessed a homicide in a court case where Mike was hired as a defense attorney. He'd been going to try to discredit the witness who was living in a mental health facility.

What were the chances that the witness was kidnapped after Mike talked to Dr. Rosewood?

Kaylee rose and opened the door that separated her office from Mike's. When he was there, the door was open so she'd be sure to hear him order her around. She went to his desk. It was spotless and contained only his laptop. Disappointed, she checked her phone, where she kept his calendar.

He was slated for a meeting this morning at the courthouse.

"Let me guess. You went straight there and left me trying to juggle your morning appointments," she muttered. "It wouldn't be the first time."

She looked down at where he normally placed his briefcase and started forward. He had come in first and left it. It wasn't like him, unless the meeting this morning was off the record.

There was a knock at the door.

Her gaze flew up. The receptionist opened the door to reveal her and a man.

"Mr. Smith has an appointment with Mr. Harrison. I buzzed your office," Linda said. "I can't find the appointment in his book." By her pleading look, she was silently asking for help.

"He's at the courthouse this morning," Kaylee replied. "I've got half an hour."

_Thank you!_ Linda mouthed. Between the two of them, they covered for Mike several times a week.

"Mike's not in?"

The man in the doorway caught her attention in a way that left her almost addled. Kaylee gazed at him, aware he spoke without registering his words.

No more than a few years older than she was, he was lean and attractive. A quick assessment of his clothing – steel grey slacks, sapphire cashmere sweater and expensive, Italian shoes – was enough to confirm he was the kind of man Mike would humor. His features were defined, his short-cropped, dark hair framing a face that appeared to have been cut from stone. Thick, low eyebrows gave him a brooding – almost sinister – look. He smelled of cigar smoke, a scent both masculine and sweet.

There was amusement in his dark eyes, and the smile he flashed was brilliant and wide. His gaze was unusually sharp.

"Uh, no." She recovered enough to respond. "He was called in for a meeting unexpectedly. I was late this morning. I haven't had a chance to call his morning appointments to reschedule."

For a long moment, the man gazed at her. He was hard to read, but she sensed he wasn't buying her story.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I don't believe so," he replied. "I left my card with the receptionist. If you could let him know Nathan Smith was here to see him, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure," she replied, disappointed the compelling man was so quick to leave. There was something familiar about him. Or maybe, it was the warm, comforting scent of cigar smoke tickling her nose. "Do you want to make an appointment for later?"

"No."

With a lingering look, Nathan Smith left. Kaylee stared after him. The short exchange left her feeling like a teenager whose secret crush had just said hello to her.

She shook her head. Her experiences with men were about as pleasant as a trip to a mental health facility. Whatever it was that made her feel giddy and warm about Nathan Smith, it wasn't a good sign.

Or maybe it was the prescription drugs Evan gave her. They knocked her on her ass whenever she took them.

Kaylee grabbed his briefcase and returned to her office. She paused. The Shadowman's stifling presence was gone.

She sighed deeply and leaned against her desk, relieved.

Thoughts of Shadowman and Nathan Smith soon disappeared. She opened Mike's briefcase and pulled out his notebook. He was meticulous about his notes, which should give her insight into what he talked about with Dr. Rosewood Thursday.

The first note Mike wrote had a box drawn around it.

_Have Kaylee pick up medical records from Dr. Rosewood._

"That's not happening," she muttered. "I'm never going back there."

She glanced at her phone. Evan had been messaging her all day yesterday to make sure she was okay. Even his father sent his well wishes, and she smiled. Being around them had put some of her anxiety at rest. If she didn't totally regret her trip there, then it was a testament to how good the father-son team was at trying to help people.

Still, if Mike insisted, she'd ask Evan to bring up the records when he went clubbing this week.

Kaylee sat down and began reading all the notes Mike and Tanya found about Amira Santiago, who had allegedly seen Mike's client murder someone.

Having trouble focusing because of the meds, Kaylee sifted through her notes on the case to find the name of Mike's client.

"Zyra Canos. Owns a club called... 3G in Maryland," she murmured. She'd never met Mike's client, but the club had to be successful, if the woman could afford Mike's fees. Along with Zyra's contact information, Mike had written extensive notes in the notebook in his briefcase.

From his scribbles, he was dismissive of the only witness in the homicide. He had outlined a plan to request her testimony be disallowed. If that failed, he had an aggressive strategy to disqualify the most condemning parts of her statement on the basis of her doctor's claims that she often hallucinated.

Which meant she really wasn't going to be a threat. The newspaper clippings about Amira's disappearance pointed to Mike's client, Zyra, as the likely culprit but was quick to point out she also had an alibi.

Not that it was Kaylee's business to find the only witness who had a sliver of a chance to put Mike's client in jail. The police were probably handling that, and Mike was probably thrilled to know his job defending Zyra just got easier.

What was bothering her about all this? Kaylee sat back and sighed. She was so drowsy from the meds that she couldn't think straight. She tried to tell herself the only reason she cared about the girl who stabbed her was because she was there that night when she disappeared.

But there was something else nagging her instincts.

She rested her head on the desk, meaning to close her eyes for a few seconds with the hope of refreshing her brain with a break.

Some time later, her phone rang, jarring her awake. It was Linda. Kaylee fumbled around then clicked the speaker button.

"Kaylee," she said.

"Hey, Kaylee. Mike's twelve o'clock is here."

"Okay, let me..." Kaylee glanced up to Mike's office. "You know, he's not back yet. Let me check the calendar. I'll call you in a minute."

Hanging up, she grabbed her smart phone and pulled up his calendar.

Thus far, Mike had missed two appointments, not including the one Nathan claimed to have.

She dialed his cell phone. A familiar ringtone came from his office. Kaylee let it ring and followed the sound from her office into his. She opened the top drawer of his desk to find both his work and cell phones there.

"Mike," she muttered. "If you were ditching work, you could've told me." She clicked her phone off and reached over to dial the receptionist. "Linda, can you do me a favor and reschedule? I don't know where Mike is. I'll call the rest of his clients he has on his schedule for today."

"Alrighty," Linda replied.

Kaylee went back to her office, gaze falling to the files. She checked Mike's schedule and called everyone else booked for the day to reschedule them then sat back down.

She had too much else to do to sit and stare at the file containing information about Amira and Zyra. Reluctantly, Kaylee set the file aside and moved onto her next assignment.

Caught up in a cycle of working and dozing off, she didn't realize how quickly the day passed, until Linda buzzed her around five.

"Kaylee."

"Did Mike tell you if he's free this evening?" Linda asked.

"No."

"Nathan Smith came back. He said he'll be at the Gavel at six, if Mike can meet him there."

"Did he say what this is about?" Kaylee asked, irked. "Cuz he's not on any schedule Mike has. There's no files or messages anywhere about him."

"He's good at not answering questions," Linda said. "He's not from around here. Maybe he's trying to recruit Mike."

"Ah. That makes sense. Mike's had a few headhunters from New York sniffing around the past six months," Kaylee said. "God, I hope he leaves."

"You and me both. He doesn't treat admin professionals much better than juniors."

"This place would definitely be better off without him," Kaylee agreed. Her thoughts went to Nathan. "I'm almost done. I'll drop by the Gavel and see if I can figure this guy out."

"Tell him Mike is the best attorney on the planet and he _must_ hire him."

Kaylee laughed. "Okay. Will do."

"I'm headed out. See you tomorrow, Kaylee."

"Night, Linda."

Kaylee rose with a grimace. She was healed but stiff. She straightened up her desk and replaced Mike's briefcase, so he wasn't pissed at her first thing in the morning when he came in.

She grabbed her purse and notepad where she'd tried to jot down notes about Amira and her sudden disappearance.

The idea she somehow managed to escape with her life twice in one night made her stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk leading to the Gavel.

He could've killed her in the elevator.

She started to hyperventilate, recalling how strong the man who grabbed her had been.

She'd passed out. Was there more? Had she been too drugged up to recall anything else he might've said?

She shook her head. Monday was the worst ever, and today had been decent. Without Mike at the office, she almost caught up with everything and had some notes for him about Amira. Hidden in her office, she doubted anyone but Linda knew she was there. No one had sought her out to try to talk to her about what happened.

Stuck between remembering her attack and the sighting of Shadowman, her hands were clammy by the time she reached the Gavel. Attorneys and paralegals had begun to fill the popular, after work hangout spot. Kaylee went to the bar and sat down. She glanced at her watch. She was fifteen minutes early.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

"Vodka cranberry," she replied. "Thanks."

He moved away.

Tugging her notepad free, Kaylee glanced around the bar to see if the mysterious Nathan Smith had arrived yet. He hadn't, and she focused on her notepad.

_Why was Amira abducted?_ She'd drawn a circle around the question while in her office, unable to figure out who would want the girl to disappear, since she wasn't a solid enough witness to put Mike's client in jail. The girl was beautiful with a touch of caramel in her skin marking her Brazilian heritage and dark blue eyes. She's shimmered with the innocence of a small child.

_Until she stabbed me._

Maybe that's what bothered her most. Amira had been upset about hurting her.

Unable to sort through why Monday went awry, Kaylee glanced at her phone, growing more perplexed trying to figure out what Mike was doing. True, he would never tell a lowly junior his plans. But he should've at least asked her to reschedule all his meetings. He loved bossing her around and stressing her out with sudden changes in his day or schedule.

"If you're here, I assume Mike isn't coming."

She looked up, enthralled by Nathan's stunning features and piercing gaze up close. He sat in the chair beside her. As before, it took her a moment to respond. What was it about him that made her feel self-conscious? Just that he was damned good looking, like someone who should be in a movie about ancient Greek gladiators?

Or the scary-intense way he regarded her? He was almost dangerous in close proximity, his low brow and dark eyes making her think of a serial killer she saw in a movie.

She definitely had to stop watching scary movies.

"No, he's not," she replied.

"Seven dollars even," the bartender said, placing her drink down. "What can I get you?" he asked Nathan.

"Put hers on my tab," Nathan replied, handing the bartender a credit card before she could object. "Double shot of whiskey on the rocks."

"You got it." The bartender swept his card away.

"I can get my own," Kaylee said, reaching for her purse.

"On me," Nathan replied.

"I have to insist. It's Mike's policy. Clients don't buy us drinks," she said firmly.

"I'm not a client."

Kaylee met his gaze, waiting.

"I'm a classmate," Nathan said.

"None of his classmates would buy a new member to the firm a drink."

Nathan almost smiled. "All right, Kaylee. I'm a friend."

"Mike has no friends. He's intolerable." Her eyes narrowed. "You want to try again?"

"I see why he hired you. You'll make a great lawyer." Nathan said, the corner of his mouth lifting. He held her gaze. "Maybe I'm considering becoming a client."

"Or maybe you want something from him."

"Smart girl." He touched her chin, amusement in his face.

She had the sudden urge not to drink around him. He wasn't the headhunter she expected. She'd dealt with them before. They never hid their intentions one-on-one.

This man didn't want her to know who he was or why he needed to see Mike. It made her uneasy.

"Where is Mike?" he asked too casually.

"That's none of your business. You've failed to convince me you have any sort of relationship with him," she replied. "I think I should go."

Kaylee rose and fumbled with her notepad, angry and nervous around the handsome stranger.

Nathan caught her arm. His hand was unusually hot, warm enough to pierce the thick material of her suit jacket. She froze, recognizing the sensation.

"One drink," Nathan said.

Kaylee looked up at him uncertainly, intrigued by the enigmatic man but unsettled by his intensity as well.

"Sit your ass down," he added, winking. "I know you're curious."

She hesitated then sat, instinctively pushing her chair away from his.

Nathan was watching her. "I feel like we know each other," he started.

"We don't," she said pertly. "I have a feeling you don't know Mike either."

"You're pretty protective of your boss. He must be a good guy."

Kaylee bit her tongue to keep from responding. She looked away, temper flaring. Nathan couldn't know he'd just given her a verbal slap, a reminder she was always covering for a man she considered to be the lowliest scumbag on the planet.

"So he's the opposite," Nathan said, chuckling.

"Mr. Harrison is a renowned defense attorney who has never lost a case," she replied.

"But how is he as a person?"

"Why?" She eyed him, unable to determine what this man wanted.

Nathan didn't answer. He reached forward to grab the leg of her chair and pulled her closer, until her knee rested at the edge of his chair and his at the edge of hers.

Kaylee's face grew hot at the intimate proximity to a stranger. His body heat was as intense as his look. If she let her left leg relax, it would be resting against his thigh.

She found herself interested by the idea of experiencing his heated strength in more ways than one.

"Thanks." His attention shifted to the bartender. He lifted his drink. "Cheers."

She lifted her glass and took a sip then set it down. Whatever Nathan was doing, she wasn't about to get shit-faced so he could exploit her for information. It was hard enough for her to focus with him so close. She dealt with men all the time and never felt as affected as she did now.

Nathan swallowed half his drink in one gulp.

They gazed at each other.

"Don't look so worried," Nathan said. He rested a large hand on her thigh and squeezed. "My intentions are relatively decent."

"That's encouraging," she retorted. She swiped his hand off her thigh.

"You were telling me how Mike is as a person," Nathan prompted.

"No, I wasn't. I was finishing my drink to leave." Kaylee tossed the rest of her drink back.

She stood, off-balance with the lack of space between them. Nathan rested his hands on her hips to steady her, their faces inches apart.

Kaylee's breath caught from the combination of his hot touch and direct gaze. Her stomach was fluttering, and warmth raced through her. She hadn't noticed a man this way in years.

Strong, steady, calm and intense, Nathan had already called her on it when she lied. There was no doubt he'd notice the fact she was attracted to him.

She was surprised to find his intensity a turn on. She couldn't stand the way Mike watched her, waiting like a predator to pounce on any mistake she made so he could rub her nose it in.

Nathan's attention was different. He wasn't trying to catch her mistakes. He was looking at _her_ , as if he really wanted to know her from the inside out.

She'd given up on finding a man interested in the woman behind the business suit. Her father valued appearances more than substance, pushing his daughter to follow him into law and getting her the internship with Mike. The men she dated – at least, those her socialite mother set her up with – were more attracted to the idea of meeting her father than being with her.

"Goodbye, Nathan," she said.

Kaylee grabbed her purse and walked away. She made her way through the bar, unable to think clearly until she reached the chilled fall evening air outside. She breathed deeply, rattled by the sexy Nathan. After a moment, she started down the block towards the parking lot where her car awaited her.

She walked quickly, anxious to be home. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't register the sound of anyone following.

Kaylee unlocked her car door and tossed her purse in the backseat.

"Kaylee, wait."

She turned to face Nathan. He hung back a few feet, dark eyes on her.

"You're following me?" she asked.

"It's important I talk to \- "

"If you want to see Mike, you can make an appointment like everyone else," she told him. She turned and opened the door.

Nathan reached around her and pushed it closed.

Kaylee tensed, suddenly reminded of another scary movie she'd watched.

"Back off, Nathan," she said, facing him. Any further words caught in her throat.

His body was inches away, his height and heat rendering her breathless. The fact he followed her to her car, however, unsettled her.

"Better?" He held up his hands and took a step back.

"What exactly do you want?" she demanded.

"To talk."

"We talked. I'm done."

"Look, Kaylee, it's potentially a matter of life and death. What if I said it could be your life in danger?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, Kaylee." Nathan rested his hands on her arms. "I'm –"

"Don't," she warned. Alarm bells were going off in her mind.

He dropped his hands without stepping away. "There's someone who goes by the name of Shadowman. He's an associate of Mike's."

_Shadowman._ Kaylee didn't move, didn't speak. She was barely able to breathe. How did this stranger know about a creature from her dreams?

"I need to know Mike's involvement with him," Nathan continued at her silence.

"I don't know anything about Shadowman," she managed.

"Mike probably didn't tell you. Kaylee, I need to know where Mike is." Nathan touched her again.

Kaylee sidled away. Uneasiness turned into fear. She'd hallucinated the other night when she saw Shadowman at the mental health center. Was Nathan nothing more than a dream?

"Call Linda to make an appointment," she whispered. "I'm not talking to you anymore."

She turned to leave, wanting to escape Nathan.

"Kaylee, please." Nathan's voice was soft. "I'm sorry if I'm scaring you. It's important. We need to talk."

"Stop, Nathan."

"Everything okay, ma'am?" an unfamiliar voice called.

She faced the pair of uniformed police officers climbing out of their cruiser at the end of the row of cars.

_At least I know he's not a hallucination._

"We're good," Nathan replied.

She glanced at him. He was moving away.

Kaylee couldn't remember the last time she felt this way, outside of when she awoke from a nightmare. He shouldn't know about the Shadowman. He was after Mike. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling he was going to show up tomorrow morning at her office again, if he didn't find Mike tonight.

Which he wouldn't. If she couldn't locate the attorney, no one could.

"You sure, ma'am?" The police officers were drawing near.

"He followed me to my car and wouldn't let me leave," she replied.

"Kaylee..." Nathan sighed. "I'm leaving."

"You want us to make sure he does?" the officer still addressed her.

She hesitated then nodded.

"Sir, please come with us." One reached for his weapon while the other approached.

Kaylee braced herself, uncertain how the determined Nathan would react. He raised his hands and moved forward voluntarily, stopping in front of her.

"All right. I'm coming," Nathan said to the police.

He glanced at Kaylee. She was surprised to see his apologetic smile was genuine.

"Sorry for scaring you, Kaylee. If Mike wants to know about Shadowman, you know where to find me." He winked, not intimidated by the idea of going to jail.

_He acts like he owns the world._

Kaylee watched him walk down the aisle with the cops. By the time they reached the cruiser, they were laughing at a joke he made and let him get into the back on his own.

Had she ever met someone as confident, handsome or enigmatic as this man? How did he seem able to charm anyone but her?

She didn't move for a long moment then roused herself and got into her car.

Nathan knew about Shadowman. The way he was talking, so did Mike. How was Shadowman tied to Mike?

Where was Mike?

_If Mike wants to know about Shadowman, you know where to find me._

"This is crazy," she muttered. Kaylee put her car in gear and drove home to her apartment.

Shadowman was waiting for her. His oppressive presence greeted her when she got out of her car. She paused, chewing her lip, and leaned against it. She knew where the police had taken Nathan, to the station closest to her work. She had made many, many trips there to interview police and accused alike.

If she decided to talk to Nathan, she knew where to find him. In the meantime, she was going to hunt down Mike. She hadn't wanted to call his family. The one time she'd done it, he flipped out, probably because she called his wife by his mistress's name.

Kaylee looked around her cozy living area then tossed her purse and jacked on the couch.

"Are you here?" she whispered.

No one answered. Nothing blocked her balcony, and no faceless man appeared.

She locked her door and crossed to her bedroom. Her apartment was too warm, the side effect of being stalked by a man that didn't exist.

Kaylee flipped off her heels, grabbed her phone and began dialing.

"Hi, Mrs. Harrison?" she asked.

"Yes."

"This is Kaylee, Mike's assistant. I need to talk to him about something important. A case," Kaylee lied smoothly.

Mrs. Harrison sniffled. "I'm afraid he's left me."

"Oh." _Shit. Like I didn't see that coming._ "I'm so sorry. This is terrible timing on my part, but do you know how to get a hold of him?"

"He's not answering his cell. Maybe his fucking girlfriend knows." Mike's wife hung up.

Kaylee shook her head. _Mike's an idiot_. She scrolled through her contacts to Mike's mistress and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ms. Ingram. This is Kaylee, Mike's assistant. I'm trying to reach him to discuss an important issue."

"I'm glad you called. He called Monday evening to say he was on his way over and didn't show. I assumed he went back to his wife."

"Thanks," Kaylee said. "I'll let you know if I hear from him."

"Always a pleasure hearing from you, Kaylee."

Kaylee hung up.

First Amira disappeared then Mike. Kaylee tossed her phone on the couch, not understanding the connection. It made no sense that Mike's client would do either. Mike was the best defense attorney in the DC area, and Amira's testimony – even if allowed – wasn't enough to put anyone in jail.

Shadowman.

_You're keeping him here._ What had Amira meant? Keeping who here?

Kaylee shook her head. She'd take a shower then call one of the other partners to see if they sent Mike away for some sort of high level case. It was possible he had left town on an important business trip.

Without his briefcase, notepad and phones.

The dread at the base of her belly made her think that something bad happened to him.

She continued making phone calls and finally gave up, not sure who else to try.

An hour later, Kaylee sat on the couch in pajamas, ignoring the television. Her cell phone was in her hand, in case either of Mike's partners returned the messages she left.

Shadowman moved to block the balcony.

Kaylee sat up straight. A shadow like a black curtain was being drawn across her balcony windows. It moved to her living room windows as well.

She went to the patio doors and twisted the doorknob. It didn't budge. Kaylee watched the shadow spread across the living room windows, headed towards the front door.

Inexplicable panic shot through her. She darted to the front door and unlocked it, then yanked.

The door stuck. Kaylee pulled again, rechecked the locks and tugged.

It didn't move.

The shadow crept beneath her doorway, pooling like water at her feet. She stepped back.

"What are you doing, Shadowman?" she asked, struggling to keep her tone steady. "Why are you locking me in?"

No one answered. Kaylee took a deep breath. She checked all the windows in the apartment. They were all blacked out. She sat back down on the couch and reached for her phone.

It was dead.

Kaylee clutched it to her chest.

_You know where to find me._

# Ten

The cell door closed behind Nathan. The two cops had processed him and thrown him into the drunk tank, where they claimed he'd remain for twenty-four hours then be freed.

"You really think he'll turn out okay?" the police officer in front of him asked.

"Yeah, he will," Nathan answered. He draped his hands through the bars of the cell. "He'll need more boundaries than most. What's going through is natural, though, so just keep an eye out and keep him focused on the positive."

The officer considered then nodded. "Yeah, we can do that. Thanks, Nate."

"Always here to help. Take care of the kid."

"I will, thanks for the advice."

The officer left, and Nathan faced the interior of his cell. He had long since grown accustomed to being approached by strangers for help. He could spot an incarnated angel in a crowd, and they could spot him, too. They were drawn to him, like Maggy said, even if he wasn't entirely certain what about him was like a homing beacon.

The officer was a third gen with a first gen son experimenting with drugs. It happened sometimes, and Nathan hoped the kid's spirit guide stepped up to help out.

Nathan glanced at his cell partner, who was passed out on one of the two metal, cot-like beds in the cell. It wasn't his first trip to prison; it probably wouldn't be his last. He'd learned to be patient when it came to how strangely things worked out.

"Hey... are you..." the voice drifted off.

Nathan sat down on the empty cot and gazed at the speaker, a first gen in the cell next door.

"Yeah," he answered. "What happened to your clothes?"

The man in the neighboring cell wore a towel around his waist and nothing else. His aura glowed white and sparkly. He was in his twenties with dark hair and eyes.

"I, um, was real happy and slightly drunk and decided to worship my body in the middle of the street," the man said, face turning pink. "You know that's not allowed?"

Nathan laughed.

"Human bodies are so beautiful. It's a shame."

"I agree with you completely when it comes to women," Nathan said. "I don't want to see man-junk everywhere."

"I guess I don't care. I think everyone is beautiful."

"Damn first gens. Always too damn happy."

The man smiled. "Anyway... since we have time, I was wondering. Um, my mama died two years ago."

"You want to say hi?" Nathan asked.

The first gen nodded.

Another of his skills: the ability to act as a medium and connect those on this side with those from the Other Side.

"It's faster if I'm touching you," Nathan said. He rose and crossed to the bars dividing his cell from the first gen's then knelt beside them.

"Faster?" The first gen mirrored his movement. "We'll probably be here for a while, at least until tomorrow." His brow furrowed. "Why are you here, Nathan?"

"Long story. Won't be here long, though." Nathan stretched through the bars to take the first gen's hand. "I need a few minutes of quiet."

The man nodded.

Nathan closed his eyes and focused on the energy from the first gen and tapping into that of the Other Side. He silently summoned the man's mother and waited until he felt the familiar pulse of energy in the air that told him she'd crossed over to visit.

Opening his eyes, he was able to see her faintly. Smiling, the elderly woman had silver hair and a stooped frame.

"She's here," Nathan said.

"I miss being able to see everyone like I could when I was an angel," the first gen said with a sigh. "Does she look happy?"

"Dead people are always happy," Nathan answered. "They don't have to deal with this shit." He motioned to the cement cell.

"That's good. She can hear me?"

He nodded.

The first gen looked around, his gaze settling on some random point.

"I miss you, Mama. Thank you for taking good care of me. I know that we all have our expiration dates, but I'm sorry yours was so painful."

Nathan glanced at the ghost, who would be able to speak to him. She was smiling, and tears sparkled in her eyes. The voice that spoke into his mind was soft, ethereal.

"She says she loves you and is proud of you," he said aloud for the first gen to hear. "And to keep your clothes on."

The first gen laughed. "I will, Mama, thank you."

The ghost faded, returning to the Other Side. Nathan released the first gen's hand and sat on his bed. The first gen's aura sparkled with cheerfulness.

"I'm taking a nap. Can we talk later?" the first gen asked.

"Sure."

Nathan watched him lay down then did so himself. He appreciated the uninterrupted time to think and to dwell on all he'd learned since arriving Monday. Folding his hands behind his head, he stretched out his legs and relaxed.

A fallen guardian, a vigilante group of rogue spirit guides, a gateway to Hell.

They were entering a new era, one that caught him off guard. Adaptable and open to anything new, he was also overly aware that this era would push him out of his comfort zone. He worked well alone and preferred to be independent in every aspect of his life. Likewise, it was going to be hard to balance or counter 3G if the members of the spirit guide corps remained isolated. 3G was willing to kill guides, and the Satanists like Eddy were growing bolder with the arrival of Shadowman.

Things were about to change completely, and he was intrigued by what was to come. Was this why his thoughts kept returning to Kaylee? Because she was different? A challenge?

Sharp, bright, and gorgeous, Kaylee didn't seem like the kind who had someone thrown in prison just because she could. She hadn't fallen for his lies and defended her boss, a man she clearly didn't care for. If Nathan didn't mention Shadowman, he suspected he'd never have gotten past her tough exterior.

Content he did, he wondered how long it'd take for her to come get him. There was no doubt she would. The pragmatic attorney had been spooked at the mention of Shadowman. How strong was Shadowman that he could manifest himself somehow beyond Mike for a complete stranger to see?

Kaylee's large, blue eyes, sharp tongue and shapely body had done more than draw his interest. He had the unusual urge to have his hands on her whenever they were around. He'd been turned on dealing with her. Women were always attracted to him, but rarely – if ever – did they fail to fall to his charm, when he used it on them the way he did Kaylee. Her defiance was more of a turn on than he expected.

_I just broke up with someone. Do I really need this now?_ Though if it was someone like Kaylee... _Maybe a fling until I leave DC for Arizona._

He tapped his fingers on the wall.

Eventually, his thoughts shifted from Kaylee to what danger she and Mike both might be in from Shadowman. He'd left Amira at the apartment under Randy's watch while Maggy went out to try to find Mike.

Thus far, Mike was nowhere to be found, a sign that maybe Shadowman figured out they knew it was staying in the human realm. It might've convinced Mike somehow to leave the area. Guardian angels had the ability to be anywhere at anytime, even to be in multiple places at once. Nathan had to assume that Shadowman could as well.

_It'll be hard to kill Mike, if I can't find him._

Nathan glanced occasionally at the clock on the wall outside the drunk tank cells.

The sooner they found Mike, the better. The only real lead they had to Mike's whereabouts was his sexy protégé, who was putting up more of a challenge than Nathan expected.

This trip was turning out to be the best thing that happened to him in a long time.

Except he needed a cigar. The death sticks couldn't kill him, but he was susceptible to nicotine addiction.

Nathan closed his eyes and slid into a meditative state, allowing his mind to connect to the Other Side. His breathing grew steady and slow, his focus shifting from this world to the other. The self-induced trance always left him rejuvenated and refreshed.

"Nathan." Kaylee's soft voice drew him from his meditation, some time later.

_Took long enough._

"Yeah?" Nathan asked without opening his eyes.

"About what we were discussing earlier."

"You mean, before you had me thrown in jail?"

"I think we should talk."

Something in her voice made him crack open one eye. He expected to see her dressed in her suit, not casually in jeans and t-shirt with a sweater buttoned just below her breasts. She wore sandals, and there were lumps in her ponytail, as if she'd gotten dressed in a hurry. She appeared calm, though he guessed the steely exterior was hiding a great deal of emotion, based on the colors of her aura.

Nathan closed his eyes, aware he had to beat her at their game.

"I'm good here," he replied.

"They'll let you out, if I ask them," she said. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"Get me out, and we will."

"I want it to be on my terms."

"I get out of here in eighteen hours, so I don't need your help. You've got no leverage, honey. We do it my way or not at all."

Silence.

Nathan didn't need to see her aura to know her anger.

"I'll press charges," she said finally.

"You're a defense attorney. These cops will pay me for whatever you claim I did to you."

"I'm a woman. They'll believe me."

"I can't wait to hear you explain what we were arguing over. Will be the first time Shadowman is called to testify," Nathan countered.

"You've lied to me since we met. I want to know you'll tell me what's going on."

Bothered by the fear in her voice, Nathan opened his eyes and rose, crossing to the bars of the cell. He leaned against them, gazing down at Kaylee. Her breathing grew faster. He almost smiled. She was scared and upset – yet determined. The odd tension between them crackled, and he was too aware of what it felt like to put his hands on her hips earlier.

"Something happened," he stated.

As if also aware of the sexual tension between them, she shifted away from the bars to put space between them.

"It was nothing," she managed at last.

"This won't work if you keep lying to me."

"Never mind. I'll Google it." She started away.

"You won't find the answers you're looking for online," he called. "If you need bail money, I authorized you to pick up my property. There's cash in my wallet."

"You did what?" She stopped and twisted to eye him. "Kind of arrogant to think I'd come back for you, isn't it?"

"Hey, what's your sign?"

"What?"

"Horoscope," he said.

She looked like she wanted to strangle him, but she answered. "Pisces."

_Perfect._

"I'll wait here, sweetheart. Don't be too long."

She stared at him then flushed, blue eyes glittering.

Nathan winked.

Kaylee strode away.

They were a natural match on the astrological side. His intensity and her yielding. He just had to get past the walls, and she'd be easy for him to get the information he needed from her.

He pushed himself away from the bars and sat down to put on his shoes, silently wagering how long it would take her. No sooner had he finished tying his second shoe than an officer walked down the tank to his cell.

"You're one lucky bastard," the officer said. "Your girl just made a good case for freeing you."

"The only thing good about dating an attorney," Nathan said, smiling.

The officer grunted and opened the cell. He waited until Nathan was through it before closing it and leading him out of the tank to the administrative office where prisoners were checked in and out.

Kaylee stood, arms crossed and unhappy, in the middle of the waiting area.

Nathan left her alone, despite the urge to tease her. He needed information from her, and she was close to the limit of what she'd deal with before walking for good.

Nathan checked out and joined her in the waiting room.

Kaylee didn't wait for him but spun and strode to the exit. Nathan trailed with a wave at the police officers that brought him in.

She stopped at the door, and he saw her confidence falter. She peered into the night, as if to see what awaited her outside. She was really scared of something.

He tempered his more assertive side to keep from spooking her. He placed his hand on the door above her head, taking a moment to look over body and breathe in her scent.

"What're you looking for?" he asked, stopping just short of their bodies touching.

"Nothing." She shoved the door open and stepped away from him quickly.

The fall night was cold enough that he saw his breath rise to the stars when he exhaled.

Kaylee waited for him a few feet away, studying him. He joined her, moving into her personal space for warmth and his own personal enjoyment of being close to her. At her silence, he spoke.

"Here's what I see happening. We go for a drink. You realize I'm the only one who can give you the answers you need. I realize you've got a lot more going for you than those cute ears and the hot bod."

She touched her ears self-consciously.

"We figure out we can trust each other, even if we both keep lying," he continued. "Or, we can skip all that to the part where we rip off each other's clothing and make rough love."

Kaylee appeared ready to laugh before she shook her head. Her emotions were near the surface, but not yet close enough to override her realism.

"This was a mistake," she said, starting away.

"You wouldn't make a mistake like this. Driving across DC to bail out a stranger? Not you."

"You don't know anything about me," she snapped.

"I know you're scared, and you've seen something you can't rationally explain."

She froze.

Nathan approached slowly, watching the colors of her aura as she struggled to figure out what to do. He moved in front of her and rested his hands lightly on her arms. Moonlight reflected in her pale blue eyes, and he saw the fear there. She'd taken a chance on him, because he was probably the only resort she had. Her cheeks were red from emotion and cold, her cute features and perfect complexion framed by errant golden curls. He couldn't remember seeing anyone able to charm him with a combination of innocence and indignation.

"This is a judgment free zone," he said softly. "Whatever you saw, whatever you think of me, I'm the one who can help you understand."

"You'll think I'm crazy. _I_ think I'm crazy," she said, breathing faster.

"Promise. I won't."

A car door slammed from the parking lot nearby. Kaylee jumped, clearly on edge.

Nathan didn't give himself the chance to ponder why Shadowman showed itself to her. Instead, he focused on the gorgeous woman before him, enthralled by her face in the moonlight. How long had it been since someone had made him feel alive, just by standing close to her?

"I deal with... supernatural things for a living." As he spoke, he instinctively cupped her cheeks, wanting to comfort her.

Kaylee's look was tortured, her gaze riveted to his. She _wanted_ to believe him, if she could get over her reliance on the limited reality she knew.

Nathan wasn't certain what compelled him to do what he did next, except that he felt almost like he had fallen under her spell.

He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers lightly, briefly. She didn't seem like the kind who would hesitate to tell him, if she wasn't interested. Nathan pulled back enough to see her face.

She didn't push him or yell. She was gazing up at him, lost. The vulnerable expression disturbed him. He dealt with first gens that gave him a similar look all the time. They were like little sisters who just needed a nudge in the right direction and an occasional shoulder to cry on. He never thought more of them.

He wanted to do much more than just comfort Kaylee. He wasn't going to be able to hand her a snow globe and walk away. No, he wanted her to trust him the way others did automatically and wasn't certain why it bothered him so much that she didn't. He felt the urge to help remove the emotions upsetting her and ensure they never returned, to run his hands down her body and listen to her sighs of ecstasy after they spent the night together.

Did she feel the strong connection between them?

Keeping his hands off her suddenly seemed unnatural. He liked the way her body felt next to his too much. Nathan risked her anger and kissed her again, this time more than a simple brush of their lips.

He expected a knee to the groin. Kaylee hesitated then kissed him back, not the mechanical response of someone going through the motions but with intensity and longing, a physical expression of just how much emotion lingered beneath her façade.

Nathan shifted closer, his arms circling her. She leaned into him. His desire stirred, deep and intense, his need to feel the warmth of her skin against his almost inhuman, almost like she belonged to him on some level he didn't yet understand. By her passionate response, she felt the same.

"Your place or mine?" he whispered, withdrawing enough to speak. "Mine is a few blocks away."

She was silent, under his spell for a moment. Finally, she shook her head and backed out of his embrace.

"I can't," she said uncertainly. "I won't." This was firmer. "You're still on trial, Nathan. You can buy me a drink. That's it."

He snorted. "Too late. It's a matter of when, not if."

"You're a cocky son of a bitch. You know that?"

"So I've heard," he replied. "Give me the keys. I'll drive."

"You're not driving my car," she objected in a voice that was still husky from his kiss.

"You wanna talk about the boogeyman or not?"

He held her gaze, not deterred by the death stare. Thus far, he really enjoyed interacting with her. He didn't know exactly what would come of their exchanges, but he was betting she'd end up in his bed before this whole thing was over. The attraction between them was too intense.

Kaylee fished her keys out of her pocket and tossed them to him, clearly displeased. She whirled and led him into the parking lot, stopping beside the vehicle he assumed was hers. He unlocked the doors with the remote.

"If you try anything funky, I'll call the police," she said, waving her phone.

"You're safe with me, Kaylee."

The way he said it – with a mix of amusement and daring – didn't do much to reassure her of anything except there was no possibility of doing things on terms other than Nathan's. He could kidnap her and take her anywhere, where no one would look for her.

Or he could answer her questions. Right now, she had some leverage, because he seemed to think she'd lead him to Mike. She was scared enough of Shadowman that she didn't question what happened when she had no leverage.

Her stomach in knots, Kaylee got in the car.

Nathan was silent as he pulled the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the quiet streets.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To my place. I've got a full bar. I think we both need a drink."

Kaylee silently agreed. She gripped her phone, her lifeline, even though she suspected she'd probably have no time to act, if Nathan turned out to be some sort of murderer or monster.

He drove them to a trendy part of Clarendon and pulled the car into the garage of a four-story townhouse then closed the garage door behind them.

Kaylee expected he had money. Knowing he lived in the upscale neighborhood seemed to prove it.

Nathan paid no attention to her but got out and walked through the door leading into the townhome.

She followed him, irritated when he pocketed her keys. He walked up a set of stairs to the main level, an open space that consisted of modern, minimalist décor in dark colors. Along one wall was the full bar he promised, complete with bar stools and counter in dark, aged woods.

Nathan went behind the counter and poured whiskey into a tumbler.

"Vodka cranberry?" he asked without looking up.

"Yeah. And my keys."

He ignored the words and poured her a drink. Kaylee took it, her self-control almost at a snapping point. She gripped and released the tumbler with one hand, senses too scattered from the run in with Shadowman and the stress of dealing with Nathan.

"Drink that one down, and we'll talk." Nathan leaned against the counter.

Kaylee considered resisting. A glance at him reminded her that – no matter how much she hated him for it – she was at his mercy. Relenting, she tossed the drink back. It burned her throat on the way down. She swallowed then set the glass on the bar, wincing.

"That was strong," she muttered.

"Yeah." He poured her another drink then picked it up, leaving the bar area for the living room.

Kaylee trailed. With the amount of alcohol he put in her first drink, she'd be spilling her life story by the time she made it through the second. It didn't help that the meds Evan gave her made her more of a lightweight.

She sat down in the oversized chair across from him.

Nathan was relaxed after his stay at the prison, his intensity remaining. He sipped his whiskey, eyes never leaving hers.

The silence irked her, but not as much as giving more ground to the stranger who knew too much about what was going on.

Nathan smiled faintly. "All right. You're at your max. I'll start."

"I hate that," she muttered. "Am I that easy to read?"

"You're a bitch to read. But I'm not your average monkey, either," he replied. "You know what a medium or psychic is?"

She raised her eyebrows, not expecting the question.

He waited.

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Yeah, but they're not real."

"You know Shadowman. You think he's of this world?" Nathan challenged.

"No, that's just..." _A nightmare. One Nathan can see._ Kaylee picked up her glass and downed it. The relaxing warmth of alcohol from her first drink had started to spread through her, loosening her muscles and softening her rationale.

But she still didn't believe in people who could talk to the dead.

"My line of work is along that vein," Nathan continued. "I'm what's called a spirit guide. Basically, a spiritual case worker for humans and incarnated angels."

"Incarnated angels," she repeated. "Okay."

"You're not buying any of this," he guessed.

"Not really. But go ahead. If you want to be a psychic, I'll humor you."

"This works better if you believe in something supernatural," he said. "Think of a memory from childhood. Something only you know."

She started to smile.

"Really," he said, sitting forward. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do. We are all connected by energy that originates from the Other Side. One of my gifts, which not many people can do, is to be able to tap into that energy and yours and interpret it in a way that no one else can. That's how I'll know what your memory is. If I'm wrong..." He pulled out her keys and put them on the coffee table between them. "And when I'm right, you'll tell me where Mike is."

"I want to know about Shadowman," she said.

"I'll tell you what he is either way."

"Okay," she said. "I'll just take these." She picked up her keys.

"Fine. Now, close your eyes, take my hand and envision whatever it is."

Kaylee rolled her eyes then took his hand and closed her eyes. She drew a deep breath and sifted through her memories, wanting to find one that only she recalled or at least, one that it was impossible for Nathan to guess. His heat moved through her, up her arm and into her body. It was comforting and gentle and made her want to sink into his body like she might a hot bath.

She settled on an image of her grandparents' backyard, from one of the annual trips she took to visit them before at their summer home in Tubac, Arizona, just south of Tucson. At the age of seven, she'd spent the vacation in awe of the saguaro cacti that looked just like cartoon cacti. They had a small cactus garden in the backyard hedged by stone. The rattlesnakes had been particularly bad that season, and she recalled her accidental run-in with one.

"Interesting," Nathan's ultra-low voice was soft. "I live in Tucson. You know saguaros are protected? If you cut one down you get fined."

Kaylee wasn't certain what to think. Maybe he got lucky guessing where she was thinking of, seeing as how he lived there.

"The rattler got in through the drainage hole in the fence," Nathan added. "You didn't see it until you almost stepped on it. It was a diamond back, young, and was stretched out on the stone walkway your grandpa built, sunning itself. You're lucky you didn't step on it. You weren't scared, though, but... worried. Your grandpa would kill it, if he found it, and that bothered you, because despite that shell around you, you're sensitive, sweet. Gentle."

She opened her eyes, staring at him. Nathan's eyes were closed, his head tilted, as if he was listening or watching something she wasn't able to see.

Kind of like how Amira talked to the Shadowman in a way Kaylee couldn't hear. This memory she didn't want to recall and pushed it away.

Nathan frowned for a second then shook his head, opening his eyes.

"Convinced?" he asked.

"How did you do that?" she demanded.

"Like I said. I'm a spirit guide, someone whose job is to take care of other guides and angels and sometimes, humans," he explained. "I do that by reading your aura, talking to your angels, communicating with those on the Other Side, channeling energies." He shrugged. "Whatever it takes."

"So my... energy told you about my memory. You can't read my mind."

"No, but I can read your aura, and right now, you're freaking out."

"Yeah."

"For the record, that snake would've killed you. The next time you see a rattler, kill it," he advised.

She studied him, wondering if he was walking about a real snake or about someone like him. Someone dangerous who appeared deceptively harmless.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, shivering.

"Mike's whereabouts."

"Shadowman first."

Nathan sat back, and she sensed he wasn't entirely pleased that she kept putting him off.

"All right," he agreed. "Shadowman is a fallen guardian angel."

"Like Satan?"

"Not _the_ fallen angel. There's a three-tier structure to the Other Side, with guardian angels at the top, under archangels, and the rest of the angels forming the third tier. But same concept, yes. He chose evil for some reason. Guardian angels are the elite and they usually take their responsibilities to humans as sacred."

It was almost too much to comprehend. Almost. But it made sense on some level, too.

"Guardian angels... are they always around?" she asked.

"Not always. They can be anywhere, multiple places or nowhere at will. If you call to one, he'll come. Some people smell comforting scents when their angels are around or see flashes of light. Some sense their presence through other means, a warm touch, a mini-hug... it just depends on how sensitive you are to them."

_Or like a hot blanket you can't shake._ Some part of her was relieved to know what Shadowman was.

Nathan was a legitimate medium and Shadowman was a demon.

"Angels are assigned at birth and stay with you until death," Nathan added.

_Shit._ Was the same true of Shadowman?

"I'm ready to go home," Kaylee said, standing. The world spun sickeningly, and she started to fall.

"Careful!" Nathan exclaimed. His arms wrapped around her, grounding her instantly with warmth and heat. His scent tickled her nose while the sensation of his body against hers jarred her, made her wonder what it would feel like if they didn't have clothing between them.

Kaylee gripped the material of his soft sweater, wishing she hadn't drunk anything or at least, hadn't taken her medicine earlier. She'd still be standing on her own.

"You're in no shape to drive," Nathan said. "The guestroom is occupied by my roommate. You can have my bed. We'll finish talking in the morning."

"No, I'm okay."

"Right." He bent and scooped her up, lifting her easily. He smelled so good, of man, cigar and spice.

Kaylee didn't object. He carried her up another set of stairs and down a dark hallway. He set her down just inside the door of a room and leaned forward to turn on the light. Light flooded the room. The bed was made, the bedroom's décor mirroring that of the living room.

"Bathroom down the hallway," he said, pointing. "You're welcome to dig out a t-shirt from my dresser."

She focused on balancing herself, uncertain if she wanted to throw up or pass out.

"I'll be on the couch, unless you want company," he said, steadying her with his hot hands.

"Do I look easy or desperate?" she demanded, throwing her head back to glare at him.

"Truthfully?"

She swiped his hands away then pushed him towards the door.

Nathan went, smiling. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind again."

She slammed the door on him then crossed to the bed, dropping onto it. It took all her focus to shove her shoes off. When they were gone, she fell back and wriggled her way under the covers. With her meds and alcohol combined, she was sleeping within seconds.

# Eleven

The glimmer of moonstones along the windowsill caught her attention. Morning light was peeking between curtains and making the line of stones glow.

Kaylee squinted at the colorful stones, unable to recall when she put them on her sill. She pushed herself up and looked around.

Her head hurt. Bad. Gripping it, she blinked away the last of her sleep.

Nathan's room. It was quiet and large with a small sitting area on one side and simple, dark furniture. Moonstones were everywhere in his room, from the dresser to all the windowsills to the top of the doorframe. While pretty, she couldn't help thinking the massive quantities of small stones was bizarre.

She felt gross. Kaylee rubbed her face and then glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was way past the time when she was supposed to be at work. She felt a small twinge of guilt, until she thought of Mike stressing out trying to find her.

_He deserves it._

Assuming he showed up. She glanced down at herself, irritated to find she'd slept in her clothes. Not only that, but she'd slept on the pocket with her keys, and her right thigh hurt. Her mouth was gummy, her head pounding.

Kaylee left the bedroom silently for the bathroom in the hallway. She found herself pausing to feel for Shadowman; he wasn't there. Relieved, she listened for the signs of anyone else being awake. While she smelled breakfast cooking from the floor below, she didn't see anyone on this floor.

Down the opposite hall, she thought she heard someone moving around in another bedroom. Vaguely, she recalled that Nathan claimed to have a roommate, so she ignored the sound and hurried to the bathroom, wanting to straighten up and get out as fast as possible.

She automatically reached for the pocket where she kept her phone, only to find it wasn't there. Irked, she rinsed her face and mouth then paused, attention falling to the huge Jacuzzi tub at one end of the luxurious bathroom.

She had no bathtub in her place, just the shower. The thought of a bath sounded like a heavenly solution for her pounding head and sluggish body. Debating for a moment, she finally decided that Nathan owed her a hot bath if nothing else for dragging her across town to bail him out of jail.

She carefully avoided the thought that she was the one who put him there.

After locking the door, Kaylee drew a bath and stripped. She hissed as she stepped into the hot water and was soon fully immersed. The aches in her body eased, along with the tension between her shoulders and in her neck.

Kaylee didn't rush her bath but enjoyed it, nearly dozing at one point. She thought she heard the door creak open and roused herself. She assumed it was the hallway creaking.

No other sounds came, and she grudgingly got up and stretched for a fluffy towel. She turned finally and froze. The door was cracked open, and a woman stood, hiding behind the small wardrobe acting as a linen closet.

She gasped.

It was Amira Santiago, the missing witness. She held a butcher knife in one hand and a cross in the other. Apprehension and uncertainty crossed her chiseled features.

Recalling their first interaction, Kaylee had no doubt why the girl was there.

She screamed.

Amira lunged forward, knife raised. She slipped on the wet tile from Kaylee's bath and landed on her knees, her first strike scratching Kaylee's arm.

Kaylee shoved her and stumbled out of the bathtub. She wrapped her towel around her as she darted to the door. Amira was quick and close at her heels.

Yanking it shut, Kaylee leaned back with all her weight to prevent the girl from opening it.

"Jesus!" Nathan said, coming into sight from the direction of the stairwell. "What's wrong?" He was dressed in dark chinos and a polo.

"She's here! That psycho followed me somehow!" Kaylee shouted.

Amira pulled at the door then pounded on it.

"What?" Nathan sounded startled.

"The... other day, I went with Mike to Rosewood... " Kaylee grunted, struggling to keep the door closed. "I got stabbed by this crazy deaf girl who... disappeared."

Nathan was staring at her. "That was _you_?"

"What was me?" she asked, glancing at him. "She's here, Nathan! She followed me and is trying to kill me." Her heart felt like it was ready to leap out of her chest.

How had Amira found her? How did she get into the apartment?

Why was Nathan looking at her like that?

"I'll handle it," he said, stepping forward.

"No, Nathan! You can't let her out!"

"No one is going to kill you, especially not when I'm around," he assured her. He moved between her and the door.

Scared, Kaylee let go and backpedaled until her back hit the wall. Ready to run, her eyes stayed on Nathan. His light touch and confident words were too reassuring to think he was going to free some serial killer to get her.

The door wrenched open.

Kaylee didn't have time to react, but Nathan did. Deftly, he deflected a blow that should've taken out his eye. It sailed by his head, and he whirled the attacker, disarming her with agility unlike any Kaylee had ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Amira was wrapped in his arms, defeated.

Nathan sighed and spun the girl. He gripped her arms.

"Go to your room," he ordered her.

She glanced at Kaylee, eyes wide.

"Now," he added.

Amira spun and ran through the apartment to the hallway on the far side, where the guest rooms were.

Kaylee watched her, unable to digest what was going on.

Nathan tossed the knife onto the bathroom cabinet then faced her.

"Love that look on you," he said, looking her over.

Her face grew warm. She clutched the towel around her.

"You know her?' she asked, confused. "She's staying here?"

"You're not ready for those answers, Kaylee," he said. "You're bleeding."

She glanced down at the streak of red on her arm. The relaxing effects of the bath were completely gone.

Nathan neared, bringing with him the intensity of his presence, its unusual heat and his supple strength. He was close enough for their bodies to touch. She found herself letting him draw her into him. His movements were too sure, too possessive and instinctive. She didn't know what to think of the way he seemed to think he could touch her whenever he wanted. He smelled like he'd been smoking a cigar. Its rich, slightly sweet scent clung to him.

He rested a hand on her wound. Familiar heat coursed through her and ratcheted up the pain.

"Ouch!" she muttered, pulling at her arm.

"Easy, sweetheart."

Kaylee froze. The same strange hot pain, the same words.

Amira.

_That was you?_

"My god," she whispered. "Don't touch me!" She slapped his hand and moved away. "You're the man from the elevator. The one who kidnapped Amira!"

"About that," Nathan said.

"That's your game? You're trying to get to the information Mike has on the case?" she demanded, furious.

Kaylee went into the bathroom, where all her things were. She slammed the door closed behind her.

Was she that stupid? She let him convince her he knew something about what she was going through? Maybe she told him about Shadowman in the elevator, and he used that to lure her into his apartment, so he could get better access to Mike and the case.

"Kaylee, don't make this worse than it already is."

She ignored him and dressed hastily, her calm gone.

"You came here to talk," Nathan reminded her.

She whipped the door open, glaring up at him. Too angry to speak, she pushed him out of her way and strode to the stairs. She jogged down two floors to the garage door.

"Shit. C'mon, Kaylee, we really do need to talk," Nathan said. He took her arm.

She yanked away. "Get away from me, Nathan!" Kaylee opened the door leading into the hallway. "If you come anywhere near me, I'll call the police. And I won't bail you out this time!"

She didn't look back and raced to her car, afraid a knife wielding Amira would attack her. There were tears in her eyes, and she didn't know why. For the few hours she was with Nathan, she didn't feel scared or lost. That feeling left when she drove away from him.

She was alone again to deal with the mess and no closer to understanding what was going on.

Her thoughts went to Mike. What the hell was he involved in and how had he managed to drag her into it?

Feeling alone and hurt, Kaylee drove all the way home to change for work.

Shadowman was waiting for her, his oppressiveness driving her to tears as soon as she walked into her apartment.

The only person who could help her figure out what to do was involved in something she instinctively knew wasn't good. Kidnapping? Supernatural creatures?

Who was Nathan Smith really?

# Twelve

It wasn't like him to feel helpless or uncertain what to do, but he did. Nathan stood in place long after Kaylee had left the driveway.

"Amira!" He heard the quiet teen creep down the stairs behind him. She didn't hear his yell, but she sensed him coming.

With a gasp, Amira whirled and ran up the stairs.

Nathan chased her, stretching his arm to block the doorway to her room, where she was headed. She looked scared, her blue eyes wide and her aura flaring with multiple colors.

He took a deep breath. "First, are you okay?" he asked.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She nodded.

"Second, what the fuck is going on?"

She squirmed.

Nathan took her other arm to hold her still. For a moment, he thought the sweetest girl on the planet was about to defy him the same way Kaylee had. She had a pocketknife clenched in her fist.

Nathan worked it free and tossed it.

"Shadowman," Amira said and shivered, as if the name alone scared her.

"He can't come here," he reminded her. "We have enough moonstones to keep the devil himself away."

"That girl," Amira said. "She brought Shadowman to the Center. He knew I was there. He knows I'm here." Tears filled her eyes. "Nate, I have to go!"

"What possessed you to try to kill her?" he asked. "Don't cry, okay? Focus."

Amira nodded and swallowed hard then answered. "To get rid of Shadowman."

"Amira, we have to find Shadowman's host. His name is Mike."

"No!" Amira cried. "She is his host."

Nathan frowned. They never considered the idea that Shadowman was anchored by anyone other than Mike. It felt like an oversight, except that no part of him wanted to believe innocent Kaylee of being the host for the demon. Mike made sense. By all accounts, he was a lying, cheating scumbag who probably left a few skeletons in his past. Mike was the kind of person a demon clung to.

"Nate, I would never, ever hurt a human. Ever. But he has to be stopped," she said solemnly. "We can't let him get to the portal."

"I know, baby. I just want to handle this in a way where we don't have to take an innocent life," he said, releasing her.

"Me, too," she said. "I don't want to hurt her. I don't know what else to do."

He offered a warm smile. "First things first. Go pack. I know where to take you, so Shadowman can't get you."

Amira studied him for a moment then went.

Disturbed, Nathan waited in the hallway, not trusting the first gen not to bolt. He whipped out his phone to call Maggy.

"Hey," he said when she answered. "I think we got a problem."

"Yeah, bigger than you know," she replied.

"What?"

"We just found Mike's body. He's been dead for a couple days. There's no way he's the host for Shadowman."

Nathan's spirits sank. "Good news for you. I think I know who his host is. Not talking about it over the phone, though."

"I'll be back soon."

"I'm taking Amira somewhere safe," he added. "I'll meet up with you later."

"Safe?" Maggy hesitated. "What's going on, Nathan?"

"Townhouse is compromised. I'm taking her to someone who can help."

"Oh, god, not Troy. He's – "

"Later, babe." He hung up.

Troy, the man who trained Nathan, had recently retired. Or was forced to, depending on which story one believed. In either case, Nathan knew where he was and what exactly he could expect from the out-of-control spirit guide.

Amira left her room, backpack slung over one shoulder. She looked upset and Nathan understood why. First gens knew violence and evil existed but weren't able to commit either, because they were still able to remember how sacred humans were to the angel corps. It took a lot of courage for her to try to kill Kaylee, a sobering indication of how dangerous Shadowman was, if a first gen was willing to do the unthinkable.

He tapped her arm to draw her attention. "We're going across town. Tell no one where I take you, okay?"

She nodded.

Nathan led her to the garage, mind working quickly. Technically, Mike and Kaylee were both innocent. It was easier for him to contemplate killing a scumbag like Mike than it was a beautiful, smart woman like Kaylee. But if her death meant preventing Shadowman from opening the portal to Hell, wasn't it worth doing?

There was a time when he might not think twice about killing anyone.

_That was a long time ago,_ he told himself.

He put the key in the ignition and paused. Odd. He hadn't thought of the incident that made him accept the position as a spirit guide in a while. It seemed too long ago to matter, and yet, he found himself thinking of it again. Thinking of _her_ again, the woman he'd married and lost three thousand years ago. She and Kaylee had some similar features. Both women had dark blonde curls and blue eyes. Both were Pisces.

Both made his blood burn in a way that was more intense than channeling energy from the Other Side.

"Nate, we have to go!" Amira urged.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts then started the car. He pulled out of the driveway and drove slowly through the neighborhood, until he reached 395, which cut through central DC.

Amira was antsy and Nathan too distracted by thoughts of hurting Kaylee to speak. Had he gone that soft over the years? Or was there something more about her that was bothering him? Was it possible to feel something beyond attraction to someone he just met?

Her fear of Shadowman made more sense. Some part of her knew the fallen guardian was not only connected to her but evil, or she wouldn't have bailed out Nathan in the first place. What had the creature done to scare her? What would it do, if it thought she was trying to help Nathan get rid of it?

Nearing his exit, he forced himself to focus on driving and merged onto the main loop around DC. Half an hour later, he left the major highways for the quiet town of Crofton, Maryland. Nathan drove a short distance down a forest lined, two-lane road before finally pulling into a driveway.

The large, brick house tucked away from the road was in a peaceful setting, hedged by trees, with a three quarter ton pick-up truck parked out front.

Nathan got out of the car. The bushes hugging the house needed to be trimmed and the flowers weeded.

Amira looked at him uncertainly.

He waved her forward and walked to the front door, opening it. As he expected, it was open. No one who met the house's owner would cross him. Troy had never locked his doors, as long as Nathan could remember.

"Troy!" he called. "We're coming in."

No response.

Nathan let his eyes adjust to the darkened foyer. It was tastefully decorated with antique furniture, just like the formal sitting and dining rooms that flanked the foyer. A wooden staircase ascended to the second floor. Past it was another hallway - lined with two doors - that emptied into a large kitchen.

He listened but heard nothing. The only guardian angels in the house were crowded upstairs. Sensing them, he started up the stairs. Amira was at his heels, her aura fluttering between bright shades of worry and fear. Nathan reached the top of the stairs and strode down the hallway, following the angels.

Troy was slung on his belly across his bed, his snoring loud enough to assure Nathan he was alive. The master bedroom was trashed and reeked of alcohol, and his former mentor wore only underwear, a t-shirt and one boot. His dark hair was bushy, and his unkempt beard and mustache covered the lower half of his face.

Amira made a sound of disgust.

Nathan waved for her to wait outside the room. He considered Troy, uncertain if he should smile or be horrified by the deterioration of his mentor. Troy was still muscular and fit, even if he looked like a wild man.

"Troy." Nathan kicked his booted foot.

The spirit guide groaned.

"C'mon. Wake up."

Troy sprawled onto his back.

Nathan barely made out his eyes in the mass of hair covering his face.

"Is this what I have to look forward to when I retire?" he asked, pulling an ottoman away from a chair in the corner closer to the bed. Nathan sat down. "Hey. Come on. Wake up." He slapped Troy's cheek.

"Get... the fuck out," Troy muttered, swatting at his hand.

"Get the fuck _up_ ," Nathan repeated. "I need help."

"I'm retired."

"I'm calling in a favor."

Troy sighed. "I'm enjoying my new life."

"Right." Nathan looked around the disaster of a room. Clothes, shoes and trash littered the master bedroom. "You owe me. Remember? Something about saving your sorry ass a few times."

"Once!" Troy grumbled. He wiped his face and struggled to sit.

"What the hell happened to you?" Nathan demanded, almost concerned for his friend. "You try to drink yourself to death?"

"Yeah. Didn't work. I quit, but Pedro won't let me go. Approval rating dropped below zero, and I still can't retire. You believe that shit?"

"Pedro does what Pedro wants. Anyway, get up. I've got a gig for you," Nathan said.

"I don't want a gig."

"It's a girl."

Silence.

Nathan leaned back. From the same era, they'd spent thousands of years together, enough time for Nathan to know about Troy's soft spot for women. Whatever he was going through, he'd never walk out on a damsel in distress.

"She's in trouble," Nathan added.

Troy was quiet for a second then swung his legs off the bed and faced Nathan. He was unrecognizable. Nathan pointed toward the bathroom off the side of the master bedroom.

"And gorgeous."

Nathan sat back as Troy stood. The stinky, furry man made his way towards the bathroom and slammed the door. Nathan rose and crossed to the hallway. Amira was wringing her hands in the hallway, pacing. She looked up when he appeared.

"Nate, I don't like it here," she said, distraught.

"If I remember correctly, the guest bedroom is down here." He started down the hall.

She trailed.

Nathan opened a door leading to a guest bedroom in need of a good cleaning. Dust was thick on all the flat surfaces and even managed to coat the moonstones lining the windowsill. He doubted anyone had been in there since he last saw it five years before.

Unimpressed, Amira regarded the room critically.

He touched her arm, waiting for her to look at him before speaking.

"You've heard of Troy, the guide who trained me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"That was Troy." He pointed towards the master bedroom.

"Really?"

He nodded. "I'm leaving you with him. He's the best there is."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"He hit a rough patch, but he'll take care of you. Trust me."

Amira grudgingly crossed to the bed and set her backpack on it. A puff of dust drifted upward. She sneezed.

Nathan's phone rang, and he glanced down to see Maggy's number cross the screen. He silenced the call before moving into the hallway and returning to Troy's bedroom. The sound of a shower came from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Troy!" Nathan called, pounding on it.

"Yeah!"

He cracked it open. Steam rolled out. "I gotta go. She's in the guest bedroom."

There was a pause then a reluctant, "All right."

"You got my number." Nathan closed the door and strode from the bedroom towards the stairs. Pulling his phone free, he hesitated then texted Kaylee.

* * *

_H ey – can we talk?_

* * *

He didn't expect an immediate answer but hoped she'd eventually respond.

Then again, she got attacked by Amira and suspected him of kidnapping. Was his insight about Shadowman enough to pull her back in?

Maggy called again.

Nathan trotted outside, closing the front door behind him before he answered.

"Yeah," he said.

"We really need to figure this out," she said. "If this guy isn't the anchor, then we gotta find him."

"I did," Nathan reported. He opened the door to his rental car and dropped in.

"Good. Then you can... take care of this."

He was quiet.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts," Maggy groaned.

"I am. I don't know why," he admitted. "The easiest solution is usually the best. Just pull the trigger."

"Exactly."

"I think I need to talk to Pedro."

"What? Why?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

"Wait, is his anchor a girl?" Maggy asked.

"Talk later, Mags." Nathan hung up. He started the car and then lit a cigar.

Even after three thousand years, dealing with Pedro wasn't something he looked forward to. But right now, he was feeling... conflicted. There had to be another solution to just killing Kaylee, one that let everyone live.

Nathan drove to downtown DC and parked under a familiar office building. The Other Side was a dimension within a dimension, a world easily accessed by those who knew how. There were several main portals, and the office building in central DC was one. It looked no different from any other building in the city. Only those with permission to visit the Other Side would walk through the front doors and end up somewhere else. Everyone else ended up in the office building.

Nathan walked in. The shift to the Other Side was barely noticeable, a subtle drop in temperature and the sudden glitter of angels in their energy forms moving around the room. He walked a familiar path to Pedro's office.

"Pedro," he said, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Nathan entered. Pedro, an archangel and the oldest of the guardian angels, was moving a fax machine the size of his torso. Nathan crossed to him and lifted it with ease. The dark-skinned angel grunted and pointed to where he wanted it.

"I need some advice," Nathan began.

"Left."

"It's about the Shadowman you all sent me to DC to handle."

"It's not centered."

"Are you listening, Pedro?"

"Don't they teach humans right from left?" Pedro asked. He stepped forward and pushed the fax machine into place.

"No one uses these things anymore, Pedro," Nathan told him.

"I do."

Pedro's office was an eclectic mix of technology and toys he collected over the course of his lifetime. The thirty-year-old fax machine was a recent acquisition, something Nathan found at a yard sale at Pedro's request. It sat between an urn from Sumeria and an Egyptian pair of sandals. His rug was made from mammoth skin, the chairs carved from the bones of the generation of dinosaurs that existed before those the humans knew about.

"You are the best spirit guide ever," Pedro said and sat at his desk. "Well, as far as you know."

"Yeah, thanks," Nathan said, ignoring the familiar reminder that he was a babe in Pedro's ancient eyes. "There's an issue."

Pedro waited curiously, as if this was the first problem he'd encountered in an eternity as an angel.

"Shadowman is after Amira because of the gateway to Hell. And before you tell me there's no such thing as a fallen guardian, I call bullshit. You got it?"

Pedro was quiet.

"Good," Nathan continued. "The fallen guardian is after her. I'm after him. To take him out, I have to get rid of his host."

"Oh, no, Nathan!" Pedro exclaimed. "You cannot take an innocent life. It's forbidden."

"I was getting to that."

"Well then you must think of a different way." Pedro smiled, pleased that he solved the problem.

_There are days I really hate angels,_ Nathan thought to himself. "That's why I'm here. I wanted to see if you have any advice or information about Shadowman."

Pedro appeared contemplative for a moment. He dug through his desk and pulled out a file.

Nathan accepted it and flipped through it. He stared at it for a minute then tossed it.

Pedro laughed.

"Why do you do that?" Nathan asked with tried patience. "Humans can't read angel script."

"It never gets old to see you try. You should work on being happy, Nathan. Angels are never like... this." Pedro waved at Nathan. "Tense." Pedro handed him a new file, this one written in English.

Nathan opened it to the first page. It was clearly written on a typewriter whose ribbons were not the best. Pedro was a fan of antiquated technology, adopting new methods of doing things only after they went out of style for the rest of the world. Nathan squinted to read some of the faint words.

"This is the spirit guides' credo," he said, tossing it back. "I know it by heart. Why are you showing it to me?"

"To remind you that you cannot kill an innocent."

Nathan began to think it was a mistake coming to Pedro. Angels really did make the worst bosses. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. Who else did he turn to when he was troubled, if not the head of the guardian angels?

"You want to break protocol," Pedro guessed. "The rules are clear."

"I can't take a life in the course of my official..." Nathan trailed off. "Wait, Pedro. It says _take_ a life. What if I just _borrow_ her life long enough to sever what keeps Shadowman anchored in the human world? Then return her life to her?"

Pedro steepled his fingers, deep in thought.

"Maybe," he answered. "But Nathan, you should never kill an innocent, even if only for the few minutes you need to send her angels back."

"How many minutes?"

"Five-ish."

Nathan studied Pedro. Of all the angels, Pedro was the hardest to read. There were days Nathan thought him truly scatter-brained and other days – like this one – where he suspected Pedro was smarter than he seemed. Did he provide the timeframe on purpose or not?

Pedro held out a catalog. "I want one of these."

Nathan took it. One of the items in the music catalogue had been circled.

_Just when I think Pedro has a clue..._ Nathan flipped the catalogue closed to see the date. While pristine, it was almost forty years old.

"Did you look on eBay?" he asked.

"Too expensive," Pedro said. "You can find one at a flea market or yard sale for half that."

"Do you know how long it'll take me to find a functioning eight track player at a yard sale?"

"We've got time. If it's more than on eBay, don't buy it."

"I'll look," Nathan said. If nothing else, it was an even exchange: Pedro's information for an eight-track player.

"Something is bothering you, Nathan," Pedro said wisely. "What is it?"

"Aside from you asking me to go to yard sales when Shadowman is hunting down an innocent first gen so he can open the portal to Hell?" Nathan asked. "Nothing."

"You are worried. It's not normal for you. You are normally very sure of yourself."

Born during the Roman Empire, Nathan retained the unfaltering confidence and physical prowess of the warrior race that bred him. He also had the emotional depths and temper of a Scorpio who never backed down from a challenge and the patience of a man who had lived one too many lifetimes. There were days when it took all of this to keep him from snapping when he dealt with Pedro.

"Yeah, well, got a lot on my mind," Nathan said. "By the way, Pedro. What comes out of the portal if it does get opened?"

Pedro's gaze saddened. "Death," he whispered.

Nathan had never seen the head of the guardian angel corps distraught. Uncertain how to respond, he changed the subject.

"I called in a favor to Troy, too."

"I told him he has much good to do in this world yet."

_Of course. It's always about the greater good. Never about us._ Nathan rose.

"Here are some yard sales." Pedro held out a newspaper, folded to display the classified ads. He'd gone to the trouble of circling two ads in yellow.

Nathan took it. "This is for Tucson, five years ago." He'd long since stopped getting angry with the angels who were trying to relate to him in a human way. They meant well, even if they drove him crazy at times. "Pedro, one of these is at my house. I know I'm not having a yard sale."

"I have faith. Maybe you will and someone brings you my eight-track player. Or maybe the other address will have one," Pedro suggested. "You know the way of the universe. If you ask for something or need something, eventually it comes to you."

"It's never quite that easy. I'll let you know when I find your treasure." Nathan pocketed the newspaper.

"It was good to see you, Nathan."

"You, too, Pedro."

Nathan left Pedro's office and the building, reemerging into the mortal world.

He sighed on his way to the car. Accustomed to the bizarre exchanges, he still left each interaction with Pedro wishing for a little more effort on the angel's part.

In any case, he now had a back-up plan. It still involved killing Kaylee, but at least it wasn't going to be permanent. He'd do whatever it took to convince Maggy to do things his way.

Maybe, by the end of the day tomorrow, the issue of Shadowman would be resolved.

# Thirteen

Amira explored the caveman's house twice, more puzzled as she did so. There was a general trail through the house indicating where the spirit guide routinely went. Front door, kitchen, upstairs. The rest of the house was covered in dust, from the wooden floors to the windowsills and every other open surface. She followed her own footprints through the formal living and dining rooms for a second time.

The house had been professionally decorated. It was too stylish and comfortable for the barbaric man upstairs to have done himself. His room was trashed, his floor covered with more bottles of alcohol than the formal bar contained. Moonstones lined every windowsill and hovered around every doorway, a sign the spirit guide had the sense to protect his home, even if he appeared to be surviving off alcohol alone.

She returned to the kitchen again. Her nose wrinkled when she opened the fridge. Small containers of delivery and fast food smelled way too old for her to consider eating. The pantry was mostly empty, aside from cracker boxes and cans of liquid cheese.

"Ewww!" she muttered.

She was hungry, but there was nothing in the house that was remotely edible.

Why did Nathan leave her here? Yes, she'd heard of Troy, who, like Nathan, was a legend among angels and spirit guides alike. But she's also heard that Troy was fired.

Of course, if that was true, he'd be dead, based on the lack of food in the house.

She closed the pantry door and stood in the middle of his kitchen, thoughtful. She wanted to know more about the stranger she was supposed to trust. She went back to the front door and traced his steps.

"Keys." Amira pretended to dump her keys in the bowl on top of the end table near the door. "Wallet?" Sifting through the bowl, she didn't see his wallet. She walked by the open door of the formal living room then paused and stepped back. There were a few footprints into this room that weren't hers. They led to a chaise.

She went to it and saw his wallet sprawled on a cushion, as if it had been tossed there and forgotten. Picking it up, Amira opened it and sifted through it.

One debit card and cash. Nothing else.

Disappointed, she replaced it on the chaise, not at all certain why his wallet was so far from his keys or anything else. Nothing about the man made sense.

Turning, she jumped.

Troy stood in the doorway, arms crossed and dark gaze penetrating. She didn't recognize him at first without the bushy beard and hair. He'd clipped his facial hair down to a goatee, and his hair was slicked back. He hadn't seemed nearly this big or imposing when he was slung drunk across his bed.

Where Nathan was lean, Troy was thick and muscular, standing a head taller than her, which was no easy feat given she was right at six feet tall. There was no sign of the caveman in the man before her, and she could believe the legends about his unmatched strength.

He spoke, and she read his lips.

"Why are you going through my wallet?" he asked. It was one of those times when she wished she could hear his tone. Was he angry? From his stance, he wasn't happy, but she didn't know where he was on the spectrum from irritated to infuriated.

"I'm curious," she replied honestly.

His eyes narrowed.

"My name is Amira," she said somewhat nervously. She took a few steps and held out her hand. "I'm deaf, but I can read lips, so don't talk to me if I'm not looking."

For a moment, he was still, studying her. Finally, he responded. "Troy. Don't talk to me before nine in the morning, and we'll get along fine."

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Troy." She smiled and shook his hand. His was large, thick and strong, his grip firm. "Why don't you have any real food?"

"I've been trying to kill myself, but it's not working."

She gasped, searching his gaze. "No, Troy! Life is sacred! You should view yours as a blessing."

"Damn first gen." He rolled his eyes and walked away.

Was he still talking to her? She trailed, hoping not. Troubled by his confession, Amira looked at her surroundings with a new perspective.

He had a beautiful house and a big truck, the means to keep buying high-end booze, and a job helping others.

What made him suicidal?

Her heart ached for him without even knowing why he felt so desolate. Maybe Nathan hadn't just dropped her off here to protect her. Maybe she was meant to help Troy. If Pedro wasn't going to let Troy retire, it meant he had a future doing good. She understood that spirits guides were very different from angels, but they still fought for the greater good, just in a different way.

Except for those who killed her mentor.

Amira stopped in place, the pang of heartache at the memory returning. How could people like Troy and Nathan lose their ways to the point they'd turn on their own?

Why were other guides pursuing her? She understood what Shadowman wanted.

The subtle shift of the floorboards beneath her indicated Troy was drawing near.

She faced him, trying to push away her concern, but unable to dispel her worry and confusion.

He waved to get her attention.

"Who's following you?" he asked.

She stared at him, surprised.

"Nathan called in a favor, which means he thinks you're in the kind of danger only I can handle. So, who's following you?"

She didn't speak, not wanting to reveal what she was sworn to protect.

Troy closed the distance between them. She gazed up at him, silently stressing.

"Beautiful girl giving me that look – that shit won't work on me," he told her. "Answer my questions, or leave."

_Beautiful girl._ Her brow furrowed. Most people she met focused on her disability rather than her face. Did he really think she was pretty? Maybe he hadn't heard her say she was deaf?

Was it possible it didn't matter to him? Amira was quiet for a moment. He wasn't giving her the odd look – the one laced with pity that people gave her when they first met her. She'd grown accustomed to it and chose to overlook it, instead focusing on their uncertain smiles rather than the emotion in their eyes.

There was neither with Troy. He didn't seem like the kind who smiled at all, but neither did he pity her. What was he thinking?

He smelled clean, of cologne and deodorant, his warmth filling the space between them. Spirit guides radiated heat; it was a side effect of the energy they naturally channeled from the Other Side and the angels and humans around them.

There was something about him that left her feeling rattled. Safe but... self-conscious. She didn't recall this feeling with her last spirit guide, Scott. What was it about Troy that made her blood race?

"Shadowman," she replied. "Fallen guardian."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why is he after you?" His gaze swept over her slowly in a way that made her feel more nervous. "You're a first gen."

"I can't tell you." Amira shifted away from him.

"Then out you go." He pointed towards the door.

She crossed her arms, sensing he was serious. He was a lot like Nathan in that regard – unyielding. Amira turned away and plodded to the door. She opened it and exited into the warm fall day, silently praying that Troy had some capacity for sympathy, even if he was no longer interested in being a guide or alive.

She walked down the stairs and past his truck.

She'd never felt scared of simply walking alone before, but since Scott's death, she hadn't had a moment where she didn't sense someone watching her. The mental health center was a temporary reprieve and now, she had nowhere to go.

"God, Pedro, angels. I need a little help, please," she said to the sky. "Thank you."

Amira looked around, expecting to see Shadowman following.

He wasn't, but she'd be hard pressed to hear him, if he snuck up behind her.

Hugging herself, she walked down the long driveway towards the road. She wanted to enjoy the beautiful fall day, the leaves that had turned brilliant shades of gold, maroon and pumpkin. It was hard to admire them, when she couldn't help wondering if this was the last time she'd ever see them. If those following her didn't get her, she still had to prevent them from getting her stones – or those of the others.

She reached the end of the driveway and paused, looking both ways.

She'd never felt so alone. Scott helped raised her and had always been there for her like a big brother. Now, there was no one. Nathan extracted her from the mental health center, but she didn't have anything she needed to survive on her own: no credit card or an identification card to take to the bank for a new debit card. She had a cell phone she used for texting and a limited supply of clothes.

Dust tickled her nose, coming from the driveway behind her, and she sneezed.

Troy pulled up beside her in the massive truck. He leaned over to the passenger side and pushed the door open.

He was hard to read compared to a normal human. Spirit guides as old as him and Nathan knew how to control everything about their emotions and facial expressions. The normal telltale signs a human gave weren't present.

He waved for her to get into the truck.

Amira went to the door.

"Troy, I can't tell you why," she said sadly. "It's okay if you throw me out."

Amusement flickered through his gaze. "Get your ass in the car. We're going for lunch."

She sighed and pulled herself up into the truck, closing the door.

He touched her lightly to get her attention. The heat of his fingers grazing her arm sent a different kind of warmth spiraling through her.

"I'll never let anything happen to you. But know this: the more secrets, the harder it is to keep you safe. Understand?"

She nodded.

He held her gaze for a long moment then put the truck in gear and pulled onto the road.

_Thank you, angels,_ she said silently.

He didn't drive them far, just until they hit town, then pulled into a McDonald's drive through. She sat forward, excited.

"I've never been here before," she told him.

He eyed her.

"Sacred body. Pedro said McDonalds was off-limits."

Troy shook his head and pointed at the menu.

Amira read the menu through once before he tapped her.

"Chicken nuggets," she decided. "Milkshake."

He nodded and leaned out the window, towards the metal speaker box.

Her eyes drifted to the menu again. Was he ordering or waiting? She couldn't tell.

"Wait, Troy!" she said, taking his arm. "Cheeseburger."

He glanced at her.

"Oh, and fries." She shook his arm. "Troy? Fries!"

He gave her a harried look. "You gonna let me order?"

" _Chocolate_ milkshake."

"I'll get you a few things. Just chill."

Satisfied, she sat back. They pulled around to pay then went to the second window. She watched with fascination as the girl at the drive-thru handed Troy several bags of food. The scents filled the cab of the truck, and Amira's nose wrinkled. It smelled... greasy, fresh, and delicious.

He'd gotten her a huge chocolate milkshake topped with whipped cream. She accepted it happily and took a sip, thrilled by the rich flavor.

She reached for the bags he'd placed between them. He batted her hands away.

"Wait until we're home," he said.

She did, content with her milkshake, at least until they reached his house. Amira grabbed the bags and hopped out, excited to sit in a real dining room after years in a tiny apartment.

"Troy! Go to the table!" she said and walked in the front door he'd left unlocked.

She didn't check to see if he'd obey or not but went to the kitchen and opened cabinets until she found what looked like a new set of pretty plates. She grabbed a few and set them on the counter then opened all the bags. Cheeseburgers, chicken sandwiches, a Big Mac, nuggets, even chicken wings. He'd gotten them a feast, and she focused on the food instead of her worry.

After a few minutes, she took the plates into the dining room.

Troy was there, leaning against the back of one chair. He watched her place a plate down. It contained a Big Mac at its center on an artistically arranged set of fries. She'd put nuggets into berry dishes and stood chicken wings up on end in a small bowl.

She returned to the kitchen for her food and her milkshake then went back to the table.

Troy hadn't sat. He seemed to be studying the food before he looked up at her. His dark gaze was intense, as if he was debating whether or not to sit down and eat with her.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

"Starving."

"What's wrong?"

"Are those bowls for nuggets? I never knew what to do with them."

She smiled and sat down. Amira started out with nuggets then moved onto a cheeseburger, mixing fries in as she ate. She tried everything before glancing up to see what Troy was doing.

He was toying with his fries, not eating.

Amira paused, studying him. There was a sadness about him she sensed but couldn't identify. It was in the distracted looks he cast out the window, the hollows beneath his eyes.

"The nuggets are good," she told him, uncertain what else to say.

His gaze flickered to her. "Yeah, I know."

"Why are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Why are you lying about who's chasing you?"

She flushed and dropped her gaze.

Troy shook his head. He picked up the Big Mac and took a huge bite.

Amira didn't try to ask him more. She ate her dinner then cleared their plates and went to her room. She didn't know why his words hurt, but they did. Maybe it was the idea of lying, another sin, but her secrets were dangerous. To her, to Troy, to everyone in the world.

She leaned against her door for a moment, gazing at the trees swaying outside the window across the room. An autumn breeze was making the bright leaves dance and pushing fluffy clouds across the blue expanse above.

It was a very serene setting. Troy had been seeking peace when he bought the out-of-the-way home. Why hadn't he found it?

Was he lost, like she was? She never thought a spirit guide was able to lose his way, until a few of them shot Scott. Troy may have lost his way, but he wasn't hurting people like they did.

She sat down on the bed, sneezing at the dust that flew up. Waving it away, she pulled out her velvet pouch and dumped the stones onto the bed. Amira picked up hers and started to set it aside then gripped it in her hand.

She saw herself, seated on the bed, but this time, she saw something more. She saw Troy standing outside her door, staring at it, torn.

Opening her eyes, she gazed at her door.

_What're you trying to tell me?_ She asked the stone silently, not understanding why it would show her Troy, someone she'd just met.

_Soul agreement._ It was a feeling more than a whisper.

Amira gasped and dropped it.

She was meant to be here, but not for the reason she first thought. Helping Troy was an understatement. A rare few humans had a soul agreement – a promise between two souls to share their lives together. The souls were chosen and put together by Pedro and the guardian angel corps, sometimes as a reward for some great deed. The romantic, sweet angels had another term for them, one that had driven her jaded spirit guide, Scott, crazy. They called them OTLs – one true loves.

She had an OTL, no doubt her reward for carrying the stones.

Pure joy went through her, for angels couldn't have soul agreements the way humans could. What better indication of her newfound status as a human than to be granted the ultimate blessing? Her initial emotion was followed by a much more somber one.

Troy was broken. Humans had free will, and he was choosing to try to die. Would it matter to him that she and he were destined to be together?

Her gaze went to the red stone, and she grew even more troubled.

There was one way to keep Troy focused. He had agreed to help her, because deep down, he was good. If she gave him another cause, she'd buy him time and maybe, find a way to keep him from succeeding at his death wish. She didn't want to lose her OTL before she had a chance to experience what she'd left the angel corps to learn.

Replacing all the stones but the red one, she tucked the velvet pouch under her pillow and then rose, red one in hand.

Amira crossed to the door and opened it, momentarily speechless as she gazed at Troy, who stood outside her door the way she'd seen in her vision. Her body's response to him made sense now.

Soul agreement. A destined, one true love. Her reward for millennia of service as an angel. Handsome, rough, muscular Troy was hers. He just didn't know it yet.

"If I tell you what I'm hiding, will you tell me why you're sad?" she asked.

He shifted his weight to the other foot, thumbs hooked through the loops of his jeans.

"I'll go first," she said and held out her hand.

He gazed at it for a moment then held out his. She dropped the red stone into his palm. Troy held it up.

"It tells me the location of a portal to Hell," she told him. "If opened, a very strong demon will come out."

He lowered it, staring at her.

"It's what Shadowman wants from me." She offered a sad smile. "Your turn."

"Wait. Go back. Why do _you_ have this?"

She shrugged. "I was chosen. There is one of me every generation who must safeguard this. It cannot go to the Other Side, because it's evil. Neither can it go to Hell, or the demons will be able to get free. So someone must protect it here."

He handed it back. "Does Nathan know?"

"Yes. He and Maggy know. But no one else does. Except Shadowman." _And the spirit guides who killed Scott._

"Why tell me? There's a reason – actually more than one – Pedro stripped me of all my cases."

"Because you're a good man. I can see that." Amira almost smiled. "Scott was all I had. He was... killed. I saw it." She cleared her throat, mourning the loss of life and her friend. "I don't know what to do, and Nathan trusts you. It's not fair for me to ask for your help, if you don't know how important it is."

Troy said nothing for a moment. His sharp features were unreadable, his eyes riveted to her.

Amira waited, clenching and releasing the red stone, uncertain what he was thinking. Was he trying to decide if he wanted to send her back to Nathan to deal with?

Or did he suspect there was more she wasn't telling him?

"I lost my daughter ten years ago and tried to quit. Pedro wouldn't let me, so I fucked up so bad, he had to take my cases away. Won't let me die, won't let me work. I'm just... stuck."

His story stunned her, first with the pain she imagined he went through and second, knowing he was stuck in a stage of mourning the loss of someone he loved. He was a spirit guide who understood that death was nothing but a stage and that no soul was truly lost. But he had human emotions and intuition, which meant he hurt, even knowing what he did about the Other Side.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her throat tight. The angel in her wanted to comfort him, and she reached out to take his face.

Troy stepped back, wary in the way many of the spirit guides were. Accustomed to dealing with evil to protect humans and incarnated angels, they were generally distrusting. Scott had been the same with anyone who wasn't one of his to advise and protect.

She withdrew her outstretched arms and hugged herself, feeling his pain and hating that she couldn't prevent it.

"Thanks," Troy said. "Don't leave the house. I'm going for groceries." He turned away.

She watched his muscular frame retreat down the hallway and disappear down the stairs.

_That didn't go the way I expected._ She stood in the doorway, trying to figure him out.

Returning to the bed, she checked the locations of Shadowman and his host. Lately, whenever she touched it, her instincts wriggled a little more insistently. It had something to do with the woman anchoring Shadowman, except she didn't understand what.

Amira waited a short time then ventured from her room into the house once more. She walked to the main floor, paused, and then went to the kitchen.

For a man who wanted to kill himself, Troy had a lot of knives. She gazed at the three blocks of knives on one counter, struck by an idea. Unable to figure out what the two-toned stone was trying to tell her, she could at least help Troy.

Amira set to work hiding all his knives, scissors and anything else sharp she could find. She searched the bottom floor of his house for more and went to the full bar off the living room. The cabinet behind the bar was full of expensive bottles of liquor, and there were more beneath the double sink.

She began dumping them out one-by-one, her nose wrinkling at the strong scent of liquor. Engaged physically in the movements of emptying the liquor bottles, she allowed her mind to wander.

If Shadowman could read the stones, could his anchor?

The thought struck her hard. What if the stones led her to his host so the innocent woman could help find the other two gatekeepers?

The universe, God and Pedro all had a reason for having an innocent woman involved. What if this was truly what Amira should do, instead of trying to send Shadowman back?

# Fourteen

Kaylee changed clothes as fast as possible and went to her office, afraid of being home with Shadowman. Nathan had texted but she refused to answer it, not wanting anything to do with the strange man.

Shadowman backed off when she left her apartment and went to her workplace, and she paused when she walked in the door of the law offices.

When he was around, she hated his oppressiveness. When he wasn't...

She felt like someone was watching her. Instead of standing over her, he was keeping his distance. Waiting for something. Like some sort of predator in the forest, watching its prey.

"Hi, Kaylee. Any word from Mike?" Linda called from the reception desk.

"Um, no. Not yet." Kaylee shook off the feeling and smiled at Linda, continuing to her small office. She checked Mike's office for signs he'd been there at all and grew more frustrated.

Where was he?

Returning to her office, she sat and stared at the computer screen. There were days when she didn't mind being in her office and days she couldn't stand it. Today was one of the latter. There were folders of cases requiring research on her desk and a dozen unopened emails, and all she could think about was Nathan.

Why hadn't she called the police? Because she found him attractive? Because he spoke complete nonsense about being a psychic?

Because he proved he had some unique gift and pulled a memory from her mind?

She covered her face with her hands, exhausted from the night before and stressed about the Shadowman. Whatever was going on, there was some supernatural influence. It was impossible for her to ignore.

It centered on a fallen guardian angel that happened to be assigned to her. The only person who might help was Nathan, a man who made her pulse soar and who scared her with his intensity.

The phone on her desk rang, jarring her from her thoughts. One button was lit up, indicating it was Linda. She pushed the speakerphone button.

"Kaylee," Linda said. "Your eight o'clock is here."

"Send them back," she replied blandly. She tucked a curl behind her ear then glanced at her calendar.

She didn't have an eight o'clock today.

Kaylee stood, dread in her stomach. She didn't know who was going to walk through her door, but she wasn't expecting the tall, attractive brunette. Was she slipping? Should she know she had an appointment this morning?

_Game face, Kaylee._ She circled the desk and offered her hand.

"I'm Kaylee, Mr. Harrison's assistant," she said.

"Maggy," said the brunette, shaking her hand. "I'm a colleague of Nathan Smith."

Kaylee froze for a split second but managed to keep the forced smile on her face. She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. Nathan didn't seem like someone who sent a messenger or someone else to do his job. Her gaze lingered on the door for a moment before she crossed to it. Leaning out, Kaylee spotted Nathan a few feet away.

He stood in the hallway, facing her door. If he was surprised she thought to look for him, he didn't show it. His steady gaze made her stomach flutter before a familiar streak of fear replaced it.

"You might as well come in," she told him in a clipped tone then spun and returned to her desk. "What do you want?" This she addressed at Maggy while Nathan walked in and sat.

"I think Nathan briefed you on who... what we are," Maggy started.

"Supernatural caseworkers," Kaylee replied. "Like I believe that."

"Whatever you believe, you are no doubt aware of Shadowman," Maggy said smoothly. "You probably sense that he's evil, and he's probably following you everywhere you go."

"Something like that."

"Look, believe it or not, we're here to help."

"How?"

"We know Shadowman is anchored by you, and we want to rid the earth of him."

"Sounds good. How do you plan to do that?"

Maggy glanced at Nathan, who was silent.

Kaylee waited, the knot in her stomach twisting harder.

"It's difficult. When a guardian angel is assigned to a human, he stays with the human until death, upon which he's released to return to the Other Side," Maggy explained. "We have a risky proposal for you."

"We want to render you lifeless. With your permission, of course," said Nathan, his handsome features calm and his muscular frame relaxed in the chair across from her.

"You're asking if you can murder me?" Kaylee wasn't certain she heard him right.

"It's only temporary."

Was her luck that bad that the most handsome man who ever set foot in her office wanted to murder her? True, Nathan wasn't exactly normal. He was involved in some strange supernatural stuff she didn't think existed before last week. He hadn't seemed like a psycho before today, though.

"How long is temporary?" she asked, wracking her brain to try to make sense of his surreal request.

"Five minutes. Maybe ten. It shouldn't be painful," he replied smoothly.

"Shouldn't be," she repeated. "I think I'm going to have to decline. Respectfully, of course." Her last words were laced with sarcasm. "I don't feel like being dead today."

"Do you realize what's at stake here?" Maggy asked, leaning forward.

"I have no clue, and I don't care. Now, if you'll get out of my office, I'd appreciate it." Kaylee rose to emphasize that the meeting was over.

"Kaylee, we wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important. I'll make it as painless as possible. We just need to send Shadowman to Hell, before he hurts people," Nathan said, mirroring her movement.

"Does this sound ape shit crazy to you at all?" Kaylee asked, crossing her arms. "You want to _kill_ me, Nathan! You never did explain why you kidnapped Amira, the girl in a high profile murder case."

"Here's an idea. Come with us. I'll explain everything," he offered.

"Here's a better idea," she snapped. "Get out."

"I'll let you two work this out," Maggy said and stepped into the hallway.

Nathan didn't budge.

Kaylee glared up at him, inches away. She wanted to push him but was afraid to break the fragile plane between them. Would she care what he convinced her to do, if her senses were intoxicated by the feel of his muscular chest and his scent, or worse – if she were enveloped in his calming heat? His magnetism was uncanny, a combination of his alluring scent and utterly masculine presence that touched the feminine woman she hid beneath blocky business suits and a sharp wit.

He'd had more than one chance to hurt her and hadn't. In fact, he'd used his strange magic powers to heal her the night he kidnapped Amira and again in his townhouse. But that didn't mean she'd trust him, not with this level of craziness.

"Let's talk," he said.

"No!" Kaylee retorted. "I want you to take yourself and this supernatural shit out of my life!"

"That's not gonna happen anytime soon," he replied. "Kaylee, think about this." He touched her arms lightly, and warmth swept through her.

She pushed his hands away. He caught them easily, and the warmth spread, easing her tension.

Involuntarily relaxing, she struggled to hang onto her anger.

"You're a smart girl."

This time, she didn't try to shake him off but sighed. Like a hot bath after a stressful day, whatever he did felt too good.

"The alternative is that Maggy just murders you once and for all," he added. "We wanted to give you a chance."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous this sounds?" she demanded, the edge in her voice melting with her muscles.

As if sensing her anger abating, Nathan moved closer. His dark eyes searched her face, and she found herself recalling the strength of his body when he'd held her, kissed her, in the parking lot of the police station. The spicy-sweet scent and soft-looking cashmere sweater made her want to lean against him and experience him with all her senses.

No matter how nice his touch was, there was no way she'd ever trust him. She believed in facts, what she knew or could research. Nathan was an enigma unlike any mystery she'd ever run across, filled with more questions than answers.

"I do," he replied. "The truth is simple: if I don't get rid of Shadowman, he'll hurt people, and my people will hurt _you_ to take him out."

She shivered.

"Five to ten minutes. It's the max you'll be dead. Promise," he said. "Maggy and I can help bring you back, and modern medicine will do the rest."

The severity of what he asked sank in. What alarmed her more – that she was considering it or that she hadn't thrown him out of her office yet?

She moved away from Nathan's touch. "I should've called the police the minute I saw Amira."

"But you didn't. Some part of you knows what I'm saying is true or at least, you're smart enough to know you need to fear Shadowman. What you don't know is that you're relatively safe from him," he continued. "He has to keep you alive to keep himself alive. If he feels you're threatened, however, he can always grab you and hide you somewhere where even I can't find you."

Kaylee listened. She wished she could block his words and how true they felt.

"Why does Amira keep trying to kill me? Because of Shadowman?" she asked.

"Yeah and she's not the only one. There's a vigilante group called 3G that's got you in their sites. They have this thing with the greater good. It's annoying, actually." By the note in Nathan's voice, he was thinking about something more than her situation.

"3G?" she echoed. "I've heard of them. I thought they were a club, though. They were the ones who hired Mike to defend their owner in court about the murder Amira witnessed."

"Really." Nathan didn't appear pleased. "So that's how they found you."

"Nathan, why did you decide to try to help me, even though me living means Shadowman is an issue?"

Nathan smiled faintly. "You feel what's between us." He took a slow step towards her.

"Um, that would be nothing," she replied, retreating. The steadiness of his gaze did things to her that she desperately wanted to ignore. Her heels bumped the wall of her tiny office.

"Really? Because I can read auras, and yours tells me something different." He stopped, toe-to-toe with her.

Kaylee squeezed her hands into fists, resisting the instinctive urge to touch the soft shirt and feel the heat of his body. She didn't know who or what Nathan really was, but he had an effect on her that left her breathing too fast and trying to hard to keep her thoughts together. His touch was like a drug she wanted more of and his scent so rich and subtle, she found herself trying to breathe in more of him. She almost didn't mind how overly confident he was or the way he seemed to see through her, when she was more comfortable hiding herself behind the crappy job and her family name.

The walls of her office trembled suddenly. She looked up as dust drifted down from the fixtures overhead.

Nathan's attention left her. Tilting his head to the side, he appeared to be listening for a moment. He snapped out of it and took her arm, puling her towards the hallway.

"We gotta go," he said. "Is there a back exit to the building?"

"What? Yes, of course."

"Go straight out the back. Don't talk to anyone. Don't stop for anything. Got it?" he asked. The urgency in his tone alarmed her.

"Okay," she murmured.

The sound of something crashing through the glass front of the building jarred her. She tried to peer around him, but he kept her in place.

"Run. Now," he added, pushing her down the hallway opposite the sounds from the lobby.

Kaylee hesitated briefly. _It's one way to get away from these lunatics._ She turned and ran, grateful she thought to wear flats today instead of heels. She nearly bowled over the janitor who ventured out of the break room to see what the noise up front was about.

The floor shook, and Kaylee pitched into the wall that was equally shaky. She balanced herself and pushed off, her pace slowing to a wobbly walk. Someone took her arm to steady her.

"I told you to run." Nathan's words were accompanied by a grunt. The ground bucked beneath them, throwing him against the wall and her into his arms. They tightened around her, and her breath caught at the sudden heat of his hard frame and his scent.

For a moment, they were caught in the strange stillness between them. The world around them shook, and they were the calm at the center of a storm. She listened to his steady breathing while his warm energy worked its way through her. Her eyes drifted down his face to settle on his full lips. Their soft plushness – combined with his heat – making their way down her body would make for a wicked experience. She knew from their first kiss that he knew how to use his mouth.

She had no reason to trust him. Why was she so turned on every time they were together?

"Not so easy, is it?" she challenged, needing a distraction from the sensations in her body.

"This way is better," he agreed. "Though it might get us both killed." With reluctance she could see, he released her and took her hand, starting down the hallway once more.

Kaylee didn't fight him this time, not about to be trapped in the collapsing building. His reflexes were borderline otherworldly, catching, steadying and guiding her without so much as a glance back.

At last, they reached the exit. Someone had the forethought to prop open the door, and the building's employees were scattered across the back parking lot.

Kaylee slowed, but Nathan tugged her forward. They made their way through the parking lot before he stopped. He released her hand. She breathed deeply to catch her breath and faced the building. It was collapsing in on itself. Her eyes went to the neighboring office, and she looked twice.

"What kind of earthquake takes out one building on an entire block?" she asked.

"One that's targeting a certain human anchoring the Shadowman to earth."

She faced Nathan, who was just tucking his phone into his pocket.

His sharpened attention went to the building.

"At the risk of killing you?" she asked.

"I can't die," he replied. "This was 3G. Apparently, they know who you are now."

"What do you mean you can't die?"

"I'll explain another time. Let's get you somewhere safe first."

The cement sidewalk leading from the building to the parking lot began to crack and shake.

Nathan took her arm again and hurried her away, towards the alley leading to the side street. Someone screamed behind them, and she twisted to see.

Shadowman. He stood at the end of the alley, back to her and featureless face towards the scene she'd just fled.

An unusual shadow spread across the deteriorated building, following the path of the cracks of the cement into the parking lot and pooling at Shadowman's feet a few yards from her. People were balancing themselves against vehicles as the ground shook.

Kaylee wrenched away from Nathan, disturbed to see the presence that had been watching her since she got to work this morning. She feared what it might do and feared more confronting it.

As before, in the mental health center, Shadowman acted too quickly for her to register what exactly he did. One moment, the building and parking lot up to the alley were dark, like a cloud passing over the sun.

The next, they were simply gone. Swallowed in a silent, instant sinkhole that engulfed the building and parking lot in a blink of her eye. No one had a chance to scream. The world before her went eerily quiet. Her breathing was the loudest sound she heard.

Horror filled her.

"Come on," Nathan's voice was low. He touched her arm.

"What happened to them?" she whispered, yanking away. Her eyes were on Shadowman.

The creature turned, his large, faceless form unnerving. She'd thought his threat extended only to locking her in her apartment. But maybe Nathan was right. Maybe Shadowman was worse than any nightmare or horror flick she'd ever seen.

And he was connected to _her._ Able to periodically access her mind and her thoughts and memories.

Which meant Shadowman didn't do this alone. _She_ did this, too.

"What did you do?" she demanded of him.

"Protected you." The voice was airy, gravelly and inhuman.

She couldn't tell what he was looking at, if he even had the ability to see anything without eyes. He faced her, but he didn't seem interested in her. Without knowing how, she innately understood his next target was Nathan.

Shadowman stepped forward.

"No," she said, moving with him. "No."

He shifted directions, automatically moving around her. He paused when he reached Nathan and spoke words too low for her to hear.

Nathan didn't back away from the creature his size and responded in the same tone.

Shadowman walked on, his form morphing and blending with the shadows of the alley, until he disappeared completely.

But he was still there. She felt it.

Numbed by the event she just witnessed, Kaylee returned her attention to the silent parking lot. She walked to the edge of the gaping hole and peered into it. It was too deep for her to see the bottom, which meant it was too deep for anyone to climb out of.

"Nathan," she whispered.

"Don't," he said. He took her arm and pulled her away from the scene. Tipping her chin up, he met her gaze. "Listen to me, Kaylee."

She struggled to focus. Her cheeks felt wet, and her stomach was so tight, she wanted to vomit.

"Focus on me. Stop fighting the energy," he said. "Deep breath."

Nathan's heat was trying to calm her. Kaylee tried to obey but her chest was too tight. Nathan's energy gained a foothold and pried the vise from her chest. Her silent panic began to release her.

"Good," he said softly. "We need to get you out of here."

"All those people..." she murmured.

"Save the breakdown for later, okay?"

She swallowed hard and nodded, aware that whatever had caused the building to collapse initially was still after her. The last thing she wanted was to let Shadowman handle her danger.

"Let's go." Nathan's palm skimmed down her arm to take her hand. He started away.

Kaylee went, forcing her mind away from the idea that everyone she'd worked with for the past four years was lying in the bottom of a hole. Shadowman trailed her, invisible but ever-present.

She blindly followed Nathan for a few blocks until she tripped. He caught her before she could fall. The motion yanked her from her stupor, and she looked around.

"You okay?" Nathan asked. He was concerned and wary, his gaze darting from her to their surroundings.

Kaylee gazed up at him, uncertain how to respond. She'd just witnessed the murder of an untold number of people, the deaths of whom occurred because Shadowman didn't want anyone threatening his anchor to this world.

But if he'd been with her throughout her entire life, why hadn't he ever done anything like this? Or had he, and she never noticed?

_I'm going crazy._

"We'll go somewhere safe."

"Nathan," she called after him.

He turned.

"Did I cause any of this?"

"Absolutely not."

"You can't have it both ways. If he's anchored to me, and you want to kill me to make him go away, then I had something to do with what just happened."

"We need to talk about this later." Nathan spun and walked away. "You just have to trust me, Kaylee. You have nothing to do with what he did."

_I couldn't live with myself if I did._

Nathan opened the door of a rental car. She got into the passenger side. Neither spoke as they fastened their seatbelts. He began driving, but it wasn't until he turned a corner that she heard the distant wail of sirens.

"We're just going to leave them?" she asked.

"Demons don't exactly leave survivors," he replied.

"There were so many people in that building." Her panic was stirring again.

Nathan rested one hand on her thigh. His heat spread through her.

"Stop trying to placate me," she said angrily, pushing his hand away.

"It's not placating when you care about someone," he snapped. He replaced his hand.

Taken aback by his words, she stared at him.

"Generally speaking," he added.

"What does that mean?"

"It's my job to protect people like you."

A police car screamed up behind them. Nathan calmly pulled to the curb.

He glanced at her, away then back. He stretched to touch her cheek then cupped the back of her neck, leaning forward. His warm lips were soft, his kiss light yet possessive, like they were old lovers renewing their relationship and not strangers where at least one party didn't trust the other.

What surprised her was not how easy it was to respond but how natural his kiss and touch felt – and how quickly they set her body on fire.

The convoy of an ambulance flanked by two police cars passed. The car behind them honked.

He leaned away.

Kaylee was glad his focus was on the road. Her body burned with desire that settled in the base of her belly and raced through her blood to her head, where it scattered any chance she had of thinking or speaking coherently.

She didn't push away the hand he left on her thigh or bother asking where they went. Sorrow, fear and desire were enough of a distraction, and every time they spoke, she learned something else she didn't want to know about his strange world.

Nathan said nothing as they drove out of DC and into Maryland. The cityscape turned suburban before the signs of manmade structures fell away and were replaced by nature. The leaves of trees lining the highway had begun to change color after the recent cold snap. Usually, she found the sight beautiful. But today, she only thought about how the leaves were dying and falling, like her coworkers.

She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs. She felt ill again and focused on breathing, so she didn't pass out or throw up.

Nathan rubbed her back, his comforting warmth trickling through her.

"It's not that bad."

"Are you insane?" she asked incredulously.

He chuckled.

"This isn't bothering you at all?" she asked.

"Of course it does," he replied. "I don't take death lightly anymore."

Kaylee focused on not fainting instead of pursuing the odd statement. When the feeling passed, she straightened in her seat.

"Who are you Nathan? Really."

"What I said. A spirit guide."

"That's an occupation. _Who_ are you?"

"You want me to write you an essay?"

"Maybe I do. You can call it, _why Kaylee should trust me after I screwed up her life._"

Nathan laughed. "I didn't screw up your life. You can thank Shadowman for that one."

She waited for him to say more.

He didn't.

"That's it?" she prompted. "I'm just supposed to accept you barging into my life?"

"Pretty much. I'll leave just as fast when this is over."

Kaylee frowned. Of all the things to think about, why was she wondering if he meant this as a warning? That he was only there for Shadowman and not her, even after their second kiss that knocked her socks off?

"That might be how things work in your world but not in mine," she told him. "I want you to take me home."

"It's not safe there."

"Bad shit didn't start happening until I met you."

"Look, Kaylee, whatever your feelings are towards me, you just have to trust that I know what we're dealing with," he said. "You don't want to end up like Mike."

Her brow furrowed.

"Shouldn't have said that," he said, glancing out the window.

"Mike's dead," she said in a hushed tone.

"Yeah. Looks like Shadowman took him out Wednesday."

"He was a sorry excuse for a human, but he didn't deserve to be murdered," she said, upset again. "Why?"

"Not sure. Shadowman might've thought him a threat or needed him out of the way for some reason. Maybe he was too close to you."

"Or he took me to a place where I got stabbed. But that doesn't make sense."

"Whatever his reasoning, it had nothing to do with anything you did, Kaylee."

"Easy for you to say." She stared out the window. "Why didn't he kill Amira instead? She's the one who stabbed me."

Nathan was quiet.

Kaylee's focus sharpened. "You know why Amira is in the middle of everything."

"I do," Nathan said. "Basically, Shadowman wants something from her. He may have used you and Mike to find her then planned on grabbing her when you visited. Her attempt to kill you probably scared him off, distracted him, at least for a short time."

"Why does he want her?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. You don't need to know that."

Her face grew hot for a reason other than attraction to the enigmatic man.

"Don't call me sweetheart," she growled. "Take me home, Nathan, or I will call the police."

"Police can't help you handle Shadowman."

"No, but they'll keep you away from me."

"I'm not your problem."

There was no arguing with a man who thought he was always right. In truth, she did feel safer with him. And uncomfortably turned on.

"If Shadowman listened to me when I told him not to hurt you, he'll listen to me about not hurting anyone else," she reasoned out loud. "So you can just take me home. I'll have a talk with him and we're done. No one else dies, including me."

"Yeah, that won't work," Nathan said, amused. "I don't know why Shadowman listened to you, unless he knows I'm going to help keep you alive. But it wasn't... normal for him to pay any attention to his host. He'll want you to stay alive – but that's it."

She shuddered, not wanting to imagine what life would be like living with a demon.

"I've gotta ask someone why he didn't try to tear my limps off," Nathan added.

"You know he's in the car, right?"

Nathan's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Yeah, I know."

"He's not hurting you."

"He probably thinks I'm taking you to the person he's looking for. Which I'm not."

"So he's using me to get to you, and you're using me to get to him," she summarized. "Great thing we have going on here." She pulled his pinky free from the hand resting on her leg and lifted his hand, pushing it aside.

Nathan didn't change directions or give any indication he was softening his stance on taking her home or telling her more than the basics. Every day was getting worse and much stranger. How long before one of Nathan's people found her and killed her or Shadowman killed everyone around her?

He left the highway at the small town of Columbia, Maryland, and drove several miles through older communities. At long last, he pulled into the driveway of a single story house set off the road. Parking in front of a two-car garage, he turned the car off and got out.

Kaylee considered staying in the car and demanding he take her home then relented. With the air conditioner off and Shadowman hanging over her, the car was too oppressive for her to stay.

She got out and looked around. The trees hedging the house swayed and rustled in a gentle breeze, and the cool touch of autumn was in the air. She breathed deeply.

Shadowman left. Kaylee grimaced, no longer comforted by his departure. At least when he was hovering, she knew he wasn't going to show up in his faceless human-esque form and scare the hell out of her.

"Who's house is this?" she asked Nathan, who waited at the sidewalk.

"A friend's," he replied vaguely.

"You don't trust me but you insist I trust you. You know that's not how relationships work, right?" she snapped.

He winked.

She folded her arms and trailed him to the house. He didn't knock but walked in. She entered. The living room was comfortable and decorated in the same floral style of her grandmother's house.

"Bathroom's probably down that way," Nathan said, pointing down one hallway.

"You don't know?"

"I've never been here before," he said. "You might want to wash that off." His gaze was on her neck.

"Wash..." she touched her neck. Her hand came away with gummy blood.

Frowning, Kaylee walked down the hall he indicated and stepped into a bathroom with outdated décor.

One look in the mirror, and she froze. Starting to panic, she patted herself down and tugged off her jacket, searching for the wound. She could find none.

Whose blood was on her? It wasn't a lot, but it belonged to someone.

Maybe to one of her coworkers or any of the other office dwellers that had been in the building before Shadowman dropped them into a hole to the center of the earth. How many people were in the five-story structure? Two hundred? Three hundred?

Her dizzy spell returned, and Kaylee sank into a sit on the edge of the green tub behind her. She held her head in her hands, vision blurred with tears she couldn't control.

Three hundred people. Counting Mike, it was three hundred and one. She pulled her fingers away from one side of her face. There was blood on them, and they shook.

She was alive, because Shadowman needed her to be. He'd killed a few hundred people in a matter of seconds to keep her that way.

The sound of the linen cupboard opening drew her attention. Blinking to clear her sight, she saw Nathan pull a washcloth free and close the cabinet. He said nothing as he ran the faucet to wet the cloth then knelt before her.

Taking her chin gently, he lifted it so he was able to wipe away the blood on her neck.

Kaylee struggled to keep from sobbing, unable to fathom the lives of three hundred people ending because of her. Her attempts to maintain her composure after days of insanity broke. She pulled away from Nathan and stood, intent on running and hiding somewhere while she cried.

He caught her and tossed the washcloth then wrapped his arms around her tightly.

Kaylee sucked in his scent and clung to him, shaking. His strength didn't falter, even when hers did. He held her close in a bear hug, his warmth creeping through her. For once, she didn't care what someone thought of her or if he now considered her weak or silly for crying.

"You're doing good," he whispered. "This is a lot to handle."

She rested her cheek against his chest, working hard to regain control of her emotions.

Nathan maneuvered them towards the sink. He perched on the edge and kept her between his thighs, his left hand resting on her hip.

She wiped her face, embarrassed by how she looked.

He said nothing, his attention on removing the blood from her neck. He pulled the washcloth away to rinse it off.

Horrified and disgusted by the sight of blood, she closed her eyes. Nathan cleaned her up quickly and with gentleness she didn't expect after his refusal to tell her anything about him. He kissed her like she mattered then talked to her like she didn't.

But did she want to matter to him? Especially when Shadowman plagued her?

Nathan brushed tears from her face with his thumbs, and she realized he was done removing the blood.

Opening her eyes, she found him gazing at her. His warm, strong hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they trailed across her shoulders and down her arms. She registered how close she was to him, how incredible he smelled. His intensity was comforting this time, an assurance she was safe, at least for now.

"You're even pretty when you cry," he said, smiling. "It'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think that's possible." Her voice was husky from crying. "Will he kill anyone who comes near me?"

"It's possible."

She dropped her gaze and stared at his chest. "Now you're going to tell me..." she swallowed, struggling with the words, "... this is why you should kill me. Aren't you?"

"Let's focus on calming you down and making you feel better first," he said.

Nathan kissed her again. His lips were demanding this time, his kiss rougher. Fire tore through her, a combination of need, fear and sorrow. Nathan was offering comfort, a distraction she desperately needed.

Kaylee wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Any restraint she thought she needed began to melt under the passion of his kisses and heat of his hands.

He guided her out of the bathroom and into a bedroom.

His hot lips left her mouth to press light kisses down the side of her jaw then down her neck, like small bursts of lightning, while his hands slid under her shirt.

Kaylee gasped at the heat of his strong palms against her bare skin. She breathed in his scent, and the heady, sweet, masculine smell filled her senses, made her want to taste his skin, his mouth, every part of him. Need was racing within her body, and an ache stronger than any she'd felt before pooled at the base of her belly while her core grew hot.

Nathan unsnapped her bra then lifted her shirt over her head. His hands trailed down her arms to her sides. She tossed her bra, anxious to feel his touch, and leaned into him, kissing him hungrily.

Lifting his shirt above his head, Kaylee paused to marvel at the supple muscles of his chest and shoulders and trace a hand down the ridges of his abdomen. She paused at his belt and looked up uncertainly.

"You want my pants off, I'll take them off," he said with a husky chuckle.

She flushed and took a step back, not sure why his amusement made her feel... inadequate. She wasn't very experienced, and she hadn't considered that he might be used to women who knew what they were doing.

"Oh no. Come back here," he said and then kissed her deeply.

Kaylee wove then leaned against him again, shivering at the sensation of his hot skin against hers. She wanted to feel that him over her body, to melt into his heat, strength and solidness and let it surround her, fill her, claim her.

His hands ran down her back to her hips, and he unbuttoned her pants, leaving her mouth to pushing them and her underwear down to the floor. He stood slowly, running his hands up her calves, thighs and hips then around to her ass. Kissing her once more, he squeezed her cheeks and pulled her against him so that she could feel his arousal pressed against her lower belly.

He felt big. No, huge. She wondered how much was the pants and how much was really him. Curious, Kaylee slid a hand between them to stroke him gently through his jeans.

He _was_ huge. The thought of him filling her made the sacred place between her legs yearn for him enough that she wasn't certain if she could walk. She fumbled with the buttons of his jeans then gave up, her hands trembling from need.

Nathan broke off the kiss and looked down, resting his cheek against hers.

"Judgment free zone," he whispered. "Just need to know what I'm dealing with here. How many times have you had sex?"

"Oh, god," she said, face flaming. "I'm so sorry. I'm just..."

"Less than three partners?"

She nodded, afraid to know what he thought of her.

He seemed satisfied, the glow in his eyes growing.

She, however, was embarrassed. Kaylee silently cursed herself for melting at his feet and moved away, wondering if this was a mistake, even when it felt so right.

Nathan stripped off his jeans, and she glanced down then back, staring at the long length of his arousal.

"Jesus, Nathan!" she exclaimed. "I didn't expect..."

"I'm well-endowed in a few areas," he told her. "C'mere."

"You don't care that I'm like... a newbie?"

"Oh, no. Makes it better." He held out a hand.

She took it, still staring at his dick. "Will you even fit?"

Nathan laughed. He gripped her fingertips then lifted her hand and spun her, releasing her to wrap his arms around her and tug her into his body.

The feel of him against her backside made her groan. Every part of her body screamed for him to be inside her. He was so close, so, so close to where he needed to be. Kaylee found herself pressing her rump into him harder, infatuated with the feel of him and aching to the point of hurting.

"Trust me, I'll fit," he whispered against her ear and then kissed the delicate skin that ran from ear down her neck. "I'll show you as many times as you want me to."

His hands skimmed up her belly and cupped her breasts before he took the coral tips between his index finger and thumbs.

Kaylee rested her head against him and closed her eyes, mesmerized by the sensations. Her senses were drowning with him, her skin so sensitive, and the slightest brush of her skin against his made her shiver. The energy he channeled melted her from the inside out, and she wriggled her ass against his dick again in a silent plea.

"Soon," he assured her. "I want us to experience one another first."

He squeezed her nipples gently, and bursts of pleasure-pain went through her. His hands left her breasts and traced down her body once more, to her hips. With one hand on her belly, he kept her in place while the other slid further south, towards the part of her begging to be touched.

"Yesssss," she murmured, reaching up with her hands to pull his head towards her. She kissed him deeply, showing him how much she wanted him, and loving his flavor, the velvet softness of his mouth, the way he worked her lips.

He slid one finger into her, and she moaned.

"More, Nathan," she begged.

"We'll get there." He was amused. He withdrew his finger from her core and continued the slow exploration of her body with his hands.

Afire with need, she twisted in his grip and pressed her hips against his, shuddering at the feel of him. Kaylee wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard then took a step back towards the bed, tugging him with her.

"I want you, Nathan," she said breathlessly.

"Good." He captured her lips with his again, working her mouth and touching her lightly until she barely knew where she was and couldn't have stood without his support. He withdrew from kissing her and spun her around again. Wrapping one arm around her, he lowered them to the bed, balancing with his other arm.

Kaylee's breasts grazed the quilt, and she shivered again. Nathan kissed her neck and her shoulder, nudging her thighs apart. He settled between them, his dick pressed against one thigh, and his possessive touch running down her sides as he trailed kisses down her back. He squeezed her ass again.

"Nathan," she complained, shivering without the heat of his body warming hers. She started to twist to shift to her back.

He pressed two fingers into her slick core, and she stopped, holding her breath. He nipped the sensitive skin on her butt with his teeth then kissed his way up her back, while his fingers moved in and out in a steady rhythm.

The feel of his skin against hers was nearly orgasmic. He settled on top of her once more, the tip of his dick tickling the opening of her core.

She wriggled downwards, needing him with inhuman desire, and he chuckled, holding her in place. Kaylee was nearly panting with need. He kissed the side of her face, and she twisted to capture his lips with hers.

Nathan kissed her deeply, nudging his manhood against her opening without penetrating her.

"Please," she groaned. "This is torture."

"Yeah, I know."

No part of her was capable of anger at this point; her only rational thought was that she had to have him inside her and soon, because she was about to die.

Nathan kissed her cheek, neck, and shoulder then pushed himself up once more. He turned her onto her back, placing a leg on either side of him and taking the time to touch every inch of them, from her ankles to her thighs.

Her eyes fell to his erection, and she stared at it again, almost drooling at the idea of him being inside her. Its tip was wet with moisture, the bulbous head huge and red. Despite looking ready to burst, Nathan was still in control, while she'd long since abandoned trying to maintain any sort of control.

He leaned forward to kiss her without letting their bodies touch. She wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to pull him into her, and reached down to stroke him with one hand.

"Sweetheart," he said, breaking away with a smile. "You think you can convince me to fuck you?"

"Yes," she replied instantly. "Please?"

Nathan's kissed her briefly then moved his hands down her body, grazing the straining nipples, cupping her breasts, and drawing a line down her lower belly with an index finger. His mouth followed the same trail.

Kaylee's hips went up in anticipation of him touching the aching clit or sliding into her again. He didn't but left a trail of fire down the inside of one thigh.

"Let me taste you first, then I'll fuck you," he said, eyes glowing as they fell to the delicate folds between her legs.

He shifted down the bed until his head was at the level of her lower belly then began kissing. Hot, fiery, soft kisses with his fully lips that ran from her belly button down to the sacred triangle of her sex.

Kaylee held her breath once more, begging him silently to relieve her of the intense lust that had her body humming with yearning. Nathan nestled two fingers into her nether lips, on either side of her clit, to expose the sensitive pleasure button. He continued kissing her inner thighs and then, ever so gently, licked the aching clit.

"Oh, god!" Kaylee gasped, not expecting the intensity of the small touch. She shifted again, hot for him in a way she'd never been for anyone.

Nathan licked again, and she arched, unable to stand the exquisite pleasure much longer. He released the skin and slid his tongue down to her core, tasting her. The sensation made her wriggle again.

"So wet," he said, his voice husky with need. "So sweet. Like honey. God you taste good." He lowered his head again, the feel of his hot tongue darting into her core sending her closer to the edge.

"Nathan!" she cried, ready for him. His scent filled her senses while her skin pricked for him, waiting to feel his hot touch again.

He laughed and lifted his head, kissing his way up her body. He settled between her legs, the tip of his dick at her core, and rested his forearms on either side of her head. His warm skin and solid weight against hers made her desperate for more. The last shreds of her patience and control snapped, and Kaylee kissed him hungrily, no longer able to think of anything but feeling him inside her.

Nathan pressed her into the bed, responding with his own intensity and deepening the kiss. He withdrew after a moment, and both of them were breathless.

"That's what I was waiting for," he said.

"Now," she growled, pulling his head back to hers. She kissed him again, needing him inside her.

The tip of his erection slid into her core, and she broke away with a gasp. The sensations were too incredible, too intense.

Nathan captured her lips again, not giving her a chance to think, while he penetrated her slowly, inch by inch, giving her body time to adjust to his size. Kaylee clawed at him, trying to hurry him, beyond her restraint at the feel of him but needing more.

He withdrew and entered her again, this time faster. He began to pump, his upper body pinning hers in place while his lower body shifted.

Fire built in Kaylee's belly quickly. The sensations grew overwhelming, and she broke away from the kiss. His harsh breathing mixed with hers, his slow rhythm steady and unfaltering, even when she tried to rush him with the legs she'd wrapped around his hips.

"Nathan," she pleaded.

She sensed his control slipping.

The tension was growing within her at the incredible sensation of him filling her then retreating, and he began entering her harder and faster each time, magnifying the exquisite friction of their lower bodies.

The fire in her belly grew to the point where she thought she'd explode. Her body went rigid, and she arched beneath him, sucking in a breath.

"God, yes!" Nathan's voice was strained. "You're so fucking tight and wet!"

She was frozen in that moment for what felt like a lifetime, overcome by the sensations of him inside her, of their bodies pressed together, of his scent, his heat, his strength. Lost in him in every way, she couldn't think or move as she waited for the orgasm to break.

The tension within her snapped with the force of a taut bow, and she cried out, her body convulsing under wave after wave of intense pleasure that robbed her of breath and thought. Her pussy clenched Nathan's dick hard and fast, undulating with the intensity of her climax.

His body went rigid, and he buried his face into the nape of her neck a second before he, too, was sent toppling into an orgasm. Panting, Nathan continued to pump, his movement slowing and finally stopping.

Kaylee's senses returned gradually. Her body was limp, but tremors of pleasure continued to ripple through her. Her breathing was hard, her body slick with sweat and her senses intoxicated with him.

"My god, Nathan," she said when she'd caught her breath.

He lifted his head. She gazed up at him, awed by the experience. He smoothed strands of hair away from her neck then kissed her, a leisurely, long kiss, and she relished his flavor, unable to summon any part of her that wanted to put that wall up between them again. Lost in the afterglow, she wrapped her arms around him, wanting to pull him closer, to keep him against her.

He pulled away enough to see her.

"It's never felt that way before," she whispered.

His smile was tender, the warmth in his eyes the first genuine emotion she'd seen from him. Kaylee traced a finger down his chiseled cheek and jaw, across his soft lips and down his neck.

"It feels like we were made for each other," he said. "We fit together so perfectly."

"I want more of you," she groaned, unable to help the desperation in her voice.

"Baby, I'm just getting started." He moved in and out of her again, until he was hard once more. "Told you I'd fit. Trust me now?"

She hesitated, looking up into his dark eyes. "I think so."

"Good. I got a laundry list of things I want to do to you."

Nathan said then kissed her hungrily. Within seconds, she was burning for him again, aching and whispering for him to make love to her again.

# Fifteen

Nathan awoke with a jolt. He hadn't planned on falling asleep. His arms were around the naked, slumbering form of Kaylee. He returned his head to the pillow, mind moving quickly. Their combined scent was on her skin, the smell of sex thick in the air. It made him horny again. His dick was still inside her from the last round of lovemaking, and it grew hard.

With regret, Nathan withdrew from her body, hating the idea of not being inside her anymore.

_She needs the sleep_. Her body was exhausted from his lovemaking, her spirit weary from Shadowman draining her energy. He didn't try to fool himself into thinking he'd made love to her for her benefit only. He was well aware that he'd wanted her since first laying eyes on her, and nothing about her was a disappointment. Not the scent of her skin, her sweet flavor, the way her body responded to him. They were made for each other, and she'd trusted him in bed more than she did elsewhere.

Should he feel bad about sleeping with her at a time when she probably didn't need the added complication?

No. There were some things in life he wouldn't trade for a clear conscience, and bedding her was one. She'd proven to be as exhilarating in bed as she was out, the perfect mix of challenge and submission with a wanton lack of inhibition, once her guard melted away.

His gaze went over her, and he was unable to suppress the flare of desire at the sight of her naked body. Her aura was clear and sparkling, a sign she was at peace for the first time since they'd met.

His restlessness returned quickly, though, as he began to realize this was likely to be their only time together, if he didn't figure out to save her. He didn't want to leave at all but spend as long as it took in bed with her for him to feel fully satisfied. There was an encyclopedia of things he could think of doing with her, enough to keep them in bed together for weeks straight.

With regret, Nathan carefully worked his limbs free from her warm, soft body and rolled out of the bed. He pulled on his jeans with a glance at the clock. It had been afternoon when they started making love and past dark when they stopped to sleep. After a few hours of rest and his body relaxed from lovemaking, he was ready to roll.

He exited the bedroom and closed the door behind him. His otherworldly senses picked up the fact that Shadowman had returned at some point. Guardian angels were like small bursts of sparkles and light, like distant stars twinkling in the sky.

Shadowman was like a cold, dark splotch in comparison, a tiny black hole.

Nathan rinsed his face with cool water to wake up the rest of his senses then left the bathroom. He paused at the entrance of the living room. While he knew Shadowman was there, he wasn't expecting the creature to be in its human form, seated on the couch.

"Good morning," Nathan said casually. "You waiting for me?"

"Yes." The demon spoke with a low hiss.

Nathan sat in a rocking chair, the only seat close to the Shadowman he was comfortable sitting in. He waited, sensing a demon didn't seek him out, if it didn't have a message of some sort.

"You must stay away from her," Shadowman said.

"Why?"

"Because I say so."

"You're warning me. I've dealt with enough demons to know they normally just attack."

Shadowman said nothing.

"Which leads me to believe there's a reason you didn't rip me apart in the alley and waited patiently like a dog for me to face you here."

Shadowman rose abruptly, and Nathan assessed he was right. He remained in place, sensing he'd almost provoked the creature enough for it to talk.

"Why?" he asked.

Shadowman made an unpleasant sound like a hiss.

"Let's start with an easier question. I know how stupid you demons are," Nathan said. "Are you being told by the bosses in Hell not to kill me?"

"No."

"So they want me dead."

"Probably."

"Okay." Nathan paused to think again briefly. "Is Kaylee right? Did you not hurt me because she told you not to?'

Shadowman gave a snort of derision.

"That answers that. The only thing I can think of is that you _can't_ kill me."

"Soul agreement."

Nathan froze. "Absolutely not."

It was Shadowman's turn to be amused. At least, Nathan interpreted the strange gurgle it made as a laugh.

"Shit." Nathan rose and paced. "That's worse news than you are." His attraction to Kaylee and his hesitation to kill her began to make sense in that light. _No wonder it felt like her body was made just for me._ "But if true, the worst you can do is try to scare me off. You can't hurt me, can you?"

The grating sound emerging from Shadowman was one of pure frustration.

"No offense, but I refuse to believe this nonsense about a soul agreement. I do not – nor will I ever – settle down with one woman. Ever."

"Then leave," Shadowman snapped.

_Right now, that sounds like a great idea_. Nathan went still again, his insides churning. He always walked away, and the demon was telling him that he'd no longer be able to, not if he had an OTL.

He left the demon in the living room and returned to the bedroom. He refused to look at Kaylee, instead snatching his clothes, shoes and socks.

He strode through the house, collecting his wallet and keys. The cold streaking through him was something he hadn't felt since the day he agreed to take on the role of a spirit guide. He hated the idea of some part of his world being outside his control, of the soul agreement that marked him as the OTL that the guardian angels had chosen for Kaylee. It was a special, sacred honor, one he didn't know what to do with – one he didn't really want.

After all his work and dedication, the Other Side conspired against him.

Then again, a woman fated to die soon might be the perfect kind of wife to have.

_You're a cold bastard sometimes, Nate._ He shook his head. He couldn't let that happen, even if he didn't know what to do about her.

Shadowman remained in the living room, restlessly shifting with the fluidity of the shadow he resembled.

"You should probably stay here," Nathan advised it. "If 3G found her at her office, they'll find her here."

Shadowman said nothing.

Nathan left. He didn't realize until the cold night air hit him that his heart was racing and his hands clammy.

Of all the things he'd seen over the past three thousand years, he never expected to see a fallen guardian or have a demon tell him that he had an OTL, the sickeningly sweet phrase the angels had coined. He stopped, halfway to the car, and tossed his head back. His breaths drifted upward in a thin fog towards the star-studded sky. It was almost five. He'd planned on meeting Maggy last night and realized she was probably pissed.

He had to fix this thing with Kaylee. After Zyra died, he swore never to settle down with any woman. He wasn't about to stick around long enough to fall for this one, even if she was gorgeous and witty. And scared. Great in the sack with a body he could see himself spending every night exploring.

_Shit._ Nathan rubbed his face hard.

At least with Shadowman around, she was safe. Nathan could leave for now and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next.

He left and drove back to the townhouse in Arlington. Dawn lit up the eastern sky by the time he pulled into the driveway.

Maggy was up, if the lights glowing in every window were an indication. He turned off the car and got out, not letting himself dwell on Kaylee, not when thinking of her was stirring up emotions he didn't want to feel.

He walked in the front door and glanced around. Maggy had called in Randy and a few others who were on the main level, eating breakfast cooked by a large African American man Nathan knew as Jordan.

"Nate!" Maggy exclaimed. "Where the hell have you been?" She leapt up from her seat at the table with another guide.

The others in the room glanced up, waving at him.

"Long story." Nathan waved back. He tossed his keys on the counter.

Maggy frowned at him. "We thought you'd been kidnapped or worse after the sinkhole incident."

"No. Just had to take Kaylee somewhere safe." He grabbed a plate and went to the makeshift buffet, filling his plate with ham and scrambled eggs. "No hot sauce, Jordan?"

"You don't need that death sauce," was the offended response. "I cook damn good, Nate."

Nathan smiled and sat down at the breakfast bar.

"Nate!" Maggy was pissed. She pushed his shoulder. "You just disappear for half a day then waltz back in with no explanation?"

"Just doing my job, Mags. Took her up north. Not sharing the location with anyone," he said firmly. "Before the sinkhole, 3G tried to kill us all by collapsing the building. You wanna tell me what's going on? I'm pretty sure you know."

She sat beside him. "They're a little more active and uh... assertive than I initially told you."

He glanced at her, not at all pleased with the news.

"They seem to have made Kaylee the justification for their cause. I guess I didn't want to tell you because... well, they're led by someone you know. A guide. Or former one."

"He convinced a bunch of ex-angels to commit violence. Whatever he is, he's dangerous," Nathan said. "You know where he is?"

"It's a she. Not a he."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We still need to find her."

"You may be better situated to helping than us." Maggy pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. "This particular cult leader knows you. I really hoped you could come here, do the job and leave. I never wanted to show you this."

Nathan sat back, chewing while he waited. He doubted anything could surprise him after his discovery this morning.

"Jordan, this is fantastic," he said after swallowing. "You're right. Don't need the death sauce."

"No shit," Jordan replied.

Maggy was glaring at him.

"I'm listening," Nathan said.

"Good. Because if anyone can fix this, it should be you." She slapped the paper down in front of him.

His appetite fled. Nathan stared at the paper, unable to believe the grainy photograph was real. The last time he saw the woman in the picture, cameras hadn't existed. Modern technology hadn't either.

It was the day before he became a guide, the day he thought she'd died.

He picked up the paper, gazing intently at the face of Zyra, the woman he left the Roman armies to marry and settle down with, the only woman he'd ever loved. They made it a year before the spark faded and the problems began. He went back to the army, the only other thing he really knew. It was three years after they married that she died, killed by a routine raid from invaders trying to take the peninsula. Such raids weren't uncommon when one lived on the Sea. He'd been pondering the offer from Pedro, ready to turn it down in order to stay and work on his failing marriage.

When she died, he had nowhere else to go.

"I thought this would be hard," Maggy said quietly, studying him. "You burn through women for three thousand years then find out your wife is still alive."

"Pretty sure a three thousand year old separation qualifies as divorce," he said, tossing the paper. He tapped his fingers, deep in thought.

"There must be something special about her. You never let any of the rest of us you dated get close."

"I like things simple," he replied. He went back to eating.

"That's it?" Maggy demanded. "I tell you your dead wife is still alive, and you're going to sit and eat breakfast?"

He nodded.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I'll admit, I'm kinda glad you're taking this well. If we can't handle the situation, we might have to take her out. I wondered how they were able to track Kaylee, but it makes sense, if she's one of ours."

Nathan paused in his eating. For a few precious moments, he'd forgotten about his biggest problem. Or maybe, had Kaylee just become his second biggest issue?

"Where is she?" he asked, glancing at the paper.

"Why?"

"You didn't tell me who she was so I could sit around."

"True," Maggy said. "But I need to know what your stance on her is."

"Professionally, she's an issue. I've probably got the best chance of reasoning with her, which I'm assuming is why you told me. If I can't get her to back off, we go to plan B."

"You're determined not to kill Kaylee," Maggy said, puzzled. She leaned closer to him, until only he could hear her words. "Nathan, what if Zyra is right? What if the best way – the only way – to do this is to get rid of her?"

Nathan sat back. He'd wanted to find a way to help Kaylee before, because years of preserving innocent lives made him want to adhere as much as possible to the spirit guide credo. Now that he knew there was another reason why he hesitated, he was faced with a better understanding of what was really at stake. He couldn't operate with his normal disregard for the rules.

"I know that look," Maggy said. "We need to talk, don't we?"

He smiled mirthlessly at the familiar words. Normally, he was the one to say them.

"Yeah, we do," he said and stood. "In private."

He walked away from the kitchen and trotted up the stairs to the level with the bedrooms. A small sitting area was at the top of the stairs, between the two wings of rooms.

Maggy sat, but Nathan couldn't. He was starting to feel wired. Thinking too much.

"Zyra's probably right," he started. "The simplest solution, the easiest one, is to get rid of Kaylee. Poof. Problem solved. No more Shadowman, no portal to Hell."

"Yeah," Maggy agreed.

"Devil's advocate. No pun intended." He faced her and flashed a grin.

She rolled her eyes.

"Tell me why this solution won't work."

Maggy hesitated. "Well..." she trailed off, pensive. "Her death won't get rid of this new group of Zyra's. It might give them a good recruiting foundation, which could cause an issue with us down the road."

"Okay. What else?"

"No one knew about Amira and the gateway until a few weeks ago. I assume now that it's close to being common knowledge, especially since Zyra has been one step ahead of us all this time. If we and Shadowman can track the girls, others can, too."

"All valid points."

"But not the reasoning you're looking for," she said. "What am I missing?"

Nathan was quiet for a moment. He sat down on the couch, thoughts on Kaylee, Zyra and the horrible timing of running into both. His life had been relatively simple for so long.

"You're the last person I thought would shy away from pulling the trigger. Why, Nathan?"

"Taking Kaylee out of the equation is a band-aid, a temporary fix," he replied. "You're right. Her death won't help us deal with Zyra or prevent others from targeting Amira. We've entered a new era. We can't go back to the way things were last week, which means, Kaylee may be the first person we have to deal with this, but she won't be the last."

Maggy was quiet.

"We need to find a way to deal with what's coming in a way that allows us to maintain our work as guides," he continued.

"You always were a few steps ahead," she murmured. "I can't shake the feeling there's more, Nathan. And not just to Zyra's involvement and how she knows all the stuff she does. There's more to why _you_ aren't willing to just pull the trigger on this one."

"There is," he said quietly. "But I can't tell you why. I'd rather not kill Kaylee. I'll work with the others and deal with Zyra personally. If I tell you where Kaylee is, I need you to promise you'll keep her safe from anyone who wants her permanently dead."

Maggy's stunned expression faded. "Wait, you you're passing her off to me?"

"It's part of protocol, Mags. If you're personally involved, you get reassigned," he reminded her. "So I'm reassigning her to the person I trust most, outside of Troy."

" _You're_ quoting protocol at a time like this?" she demanded.

"What do you want me to do? The chance of Kaylee living through this is very small."

"It's better if you're involved!"

"I am involved. I told you – I'll deal with Zyra. I'll run interference with everyone I have to. But I can't be on the front line."

"Is this because of Zyra? You still have feelings for her?"

"No." _I have no fucking idea what I feel towards her._

Maggy studied him for a long minute. "You're chicken shit."

"I am not."

"Are, too!"

"Not!"

"Sorry to interrupt," a third voice drew their attention to the stairs. Randy's head and shoulders were visible. "Someone named Zyra is at the front door."

"Dammit," Maggy muttered. "We'll be down in a minute."

They watched Randy's head disappear from the stairwell as he descended the steps once more. Nathan started forward.

Maggy grabbed his arm. "You're seriously just done with this conversation?"

"Yeah. I told you how it's gonna be," he replied. "You promise to see to Kaylee's safety personally?"

"Of course. I'd do anything you asked."

"I'll text you her address." Nathan turned and left, trotting down the stairs.

"Nathan!" Maggy snapped.

"Thanks, Mags," he replied with a wave. He heard her cursing him and smiled tightly, aware she'd do what he asked, no matter how pissed she was about his reasoning behind it.

She was somewhat right. In circumstance like this one, he probably shouldn't be reassigned. If he were a different person, he'd take his place beside his OTL, where Pedro and the angels had conspired to put him, and live happily ever after. His instincts were telling him that he would only cause more danger and grief to Kaylee.

Or maybe, he feared he would. Unaccustomed to fearing anything, Nathan wasn't able to determine what his emotions and instincts wanted him to do, except that he hated not being able to push them aside.

Instead, he was about to face his wife for the first time in centuries. Not one to ponder on his emotions, he was still curious about how he'd feel facing her. Seeing her picture had pulled up many memories – most of which were negative. He suspected it would be different in person when he was able to see her, smell her, and touch her.

If Kaylee was meant to be his, then Zyra had been a mistake. One that influenced his behavior for thousands of years. It didn't seem possible that was the case, that he'd made that big of a mistake. His relationship with Zyra had been incredible while it lasted. How much did a soul agreement really mean, if he was able to marry someone else and then live alone for so long? He'd always regarded soul agreements and OTLs as destiny, a very cruel and horrible fate that awaited a few select people. Now, he was hoping they were a choice and that losing a chance at an OTL wasn't going to put him through the heartache he went through when he thought he'd lost Zyra.

He wanted none of that. He wanted his emotions jammed deep down inside him, out of the way, so he could do his job.

Nathan prepared himself to face Zyra. Randy paused at the front door, hand on the knob. Nathan nodded to him, and the door was opened.

Three figures stood at the end of the sidewalk leading up to the townhouse. Nathan exited alone and pulled the door closed behind him. He walked halfway down the sidewalk, taking in the three.

Spirit guides. All of them. Zyra was dressed all in black, her dark blonde hair in a loose ponytail and her features stoic. Even after so long apart, he still knew the exact shade of her blue eyes and remembered how he used to trace her upturned nose with his index finger. She was trim and tall, her leggings clinging to her shapely legs and hugging her ass in a way he found appealing. He recalled the days they spent in each other's arms, making love instead of eating and sleeping for hours at a time.

Like him, she hadn't aged a day.

She regarded him for a second then moved away from the two male guides to meet him at the halfway point.

"Zyra."

"Nathan."

They sized each other up for a moment. Nathan saw how fast the pulse was at the side of her throat. He, however, felt calm, though he strained to smell her scent. Would it be familiar? Comforting? Intoxicating, the way he remembered it?

"Your target isn't here," he started.

"That's how you want to start this?" she asked. "No _hello_ or _nice to see you_ or _where have you been_?"

"I'm not certain it matters at this point," he replied. "You aren't here to say hello, anyway."

Zyra shifted her weight to one foot and nibbled on her lower lip, a sign he recalled from their time together meant she was troubled.

"You're wrong. I did come to say hello."

"You had three thousand years for that."

Anger glittered in her eyes. "It wasn't easy walking away from you."

"As I recall, you died."

"I didn't want it to end that way. Or at all," she said softly. "I was never supposed to fall for you in the first place, just recruit you. Pedro wouldn't let me retire, which I tried to do multiple times after we were married."

"He's shifty for an angel," Nathan said.

Zyra crossed her arms, waiting. She was beautiful and bright. And dangerous, if she was willing to take down an office building in the middle of the day to get to Kaylee.

Nathan said nothing else. Had he ever really known her? He could certainly never trust someone who killed a fellow spirit guide.

"He told you, didn't he?" she asked. "He told you I didn't die, that I was sent to recruit you?"

"No, he didn't," Nathan said shortly.

"I see. That explains why you didn't try to find me."

"What stopped you from trying to find me, Zyra?" he asked, glancing around.

"Can we talk in private?" she asked.

"Sure." He spun without waiting for her to say more. Knowing Randy at least was watching, he pointed to the garage door.

It was opening by the time Nathan reached it. Too aware of Zyra's presence behind him, Nathan was sorting through his thoughts. He didn't believe what Zyra was trying to tell him. He knew a lie when he heard it, but he also heard the regret and emotion in her voice.

She really did love him, or had at one point, and he wasn't entirely certain his emotions for her were gone. If they were, wouldn't he have forgotten about her after three thousand years?

They stepped into the garage. Nathan crossed to the remote control on the wall near the door and punched it.

The door closed.

Zyra glanced uneasily towards it but didn't object.

He stood before her, and they waited until the grumble of the motorized door faded.

Gazing up at him, Zyra tugged his head down to hers. She kissed him. A familiar surge of lust flew through him, and he returned the kiss, hard and deep. Her hands skimmed down his body they way they had years before, and he backed her into the car then lifted her. Her long legs wrapped around him. Nathan leaned against her and the car, kissing her hungrily.

"Nathan," she whispered, breaking the kiss.

He trailed kisses down her neck. She sucked on his earlobe then ran her hands through his hair.

She seemed more than interested in renewing their physical relationship, but he found himself hesitating. She tasted and smelled the way he remembered. The reminder had the opposite effect than he expected. While turned on, he was also aware that something was missing. He didn't know how to voice what it was or why it bothered him. There was a time when he prayed for one more day to run his fingers through her hair the way he did now, for one more kiss.

And then he'd moved on, even if he never again trusted his heart to another.

_Until Kaylee._

"What's wrong?" she asked huskily, shifting against him.

Unable to pinpoint what felt off, he'd stopped kissing her. Nathan drew a breath and lifted his head from the nape of her neck. With some effort, he reined in his lust and released her, stepping back.

Zyra straightened her clothing, her look slightly dazed. There were full days when they'd both worn that expression.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Zyra studied him for a moment. "Believe it or not, I think about you all the time, Nathan. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"What's done is done," he said calmly.

She sighed.

"Don't tell me you're here to see me after three thousand years," he warned. "You can't do that cute little ass wiggle and expect me to forgive you."

"It used to make you smile, no matter how upset you were," she said. "You sure it won't work?"

"Positive."

"I did want to see you," she started. "But yes, you're right. There's another reason I'm here."

"To find Shadowman's anchor."

"Yes."

"The anchor isn't here."

"I know that." Zyra's gaze trailed down his body and returned to his eyes. "There are a few of us like-minded guides who believe a more aggressive strategy needs to be taken against those who threaten incarnated angels and humans. The guide corps as a whole is too reactionary. Why do damage control when we can pre-empt problems in the first place?"

"I don't disagree. But I don't believe killing is the way to do it," he returned. "Taking out an office building full of innocent humans? That's how you're going to run things?"

"We took precautions. But we're talking about one human, whose death happens to be all that will stop Shadowman from opening the portal to Hell! Is stopping him worth an office building full of people? Yes. We know that we only killed one guy who wasn't fast enough to get out. Shadowman killed the rest."

"And when one guy turns into two? Two hundred? Two million?"

"That won't happen, Nathan. There has never been a fallen guardian before. There may never be another one."

"If you believed that, you wouldn't have felt the need to form a more proactive group," he pointed out. "The anchor is an excuse for you to push an agenda."

Zyra gazed at him and then frowned. "From what I've heard, you never back down from something like this. And trust me, Nathan, I know what skeletons are in your closet. You've killed in the line of duty more than a few times."

"With discretion. I've opted _not_ to kill many other times as well," he snapped. "This is one of those times."

"How is this anchor more worthy of living than the twelve year old in Mexico you killed a hundred years ago? The elderly man twenty years ago? I have a file this thick about you." She held up her forefinger and thumb two inches apart.

"I do what I need to."

"That's it? This is _me_ asking for your help." She approached him, taking his face in her hands. "There's one life, Nathan, standing between us and keeping the door to Hell closed. You've taken hundreds, thousands, of lives of that didn't pose a fraction of a threat that this one does."

It was the same rationale he'd thought when Maggy first told him about the situation. A few days earlier, he might've hesitated but not spared Kaylee's life. Then he met her, slept with her, learned she was meant to be his.

"I know," he said finally. "But there's got to be another way."

Zyra searched his face in disbelief. "You won't reconsider? Even if we disagree about this case, are you refusing my cause altogether?"

"Yeah, I am," he replied in the same hushed tone.

"Nathan, how do you think a problem like this should be handled?" She dropped her hands.

"It's not a problem, Zyra, it's a _life_."

"Which is why I'll make it swift, painless and with the greater good in mind over the life of one person!"

"I think you're on the wrong track. I believe you mean well, but this isn't the right way," he said. "I know I've killed, but only when there was no other choice. You want to take lives without exploring alternatives, because it's easier to do. It's a slippery slope."

"You are nothing like the man I remember," she said.

Irritation crept through him, more so because he wasn't certain his decision was for the greater good. He never hesitated, yet for the first time in his career, he didn't know what the right thing to do was. He was emotionally compromised and trying hard to put distance between himself, Kaylee and the situation with Shadowman.

"Whoever is anchoring Shadowman to this world has to die. Do you know how many people were killed yesterday?" Zyra continued. "He's already threatened one of the key holders."

"Key holders?" Nathan echoed. "You mean Amira."

Zyra's gaze sharpened. "So... either they didn't tell you or they don't know. Amira is one of three people who hold the keys to the gateway. Shadowman needs all three of them and all three of the keys they hold. Amira can find the others, which is why..." She stopped herself, as if she'd revealed too much already

Nathan was silent. Did Maggy know? He was certain Pedro did, and now, he understood why 3G was after Amira. But what exactly did the woman before him want with the key holders like Amira?

"Nathan, he needs to die," Zyra continued. "Even if you fight me on every other thing I stand for, you can't deny that the only way to get rid of Shadowman is to kill his anchor."

She was right. He knew it. Kaylee had to die, even if only temporarily.

Nathan couldn't entrust that mission to Zyra, though. Maybe not even to Maggy, who might be too tempted just to walk away once Kaylee was dead. It was so easy to take a life and so much harder to try to get it back once it was gone.

Nathan's eyes lingered on Zyra's lips. Life had a way of getting super complicated, super fast.

"On another topic, why did you wait three thousand years to talk to me?" he asked. "You could've asked me anything that's in the file, but I'm assuming you collected the information clandestinely."

Zyra's staunch insistence wavered.

"What? Suddenly got nothing to say?" Nathan crossed his arms. "Were you counting on me falling head over heels for you again and just doing whatever you asked?"

"No," she replied. "I hoped to have the upper hand by surprising you, but nothing I know about you or in your file says weak." She sighed. "Nathan, it's complicated."

He laughed.

"You weren't... the first I pulled into the guide corps by seducing you. But you were the only one I loved," she admitted. "I think that scared me, especially when Pedro wouldn't let me retire."

"You freaked out and ran."

"I thought I was protecting you. I didn't think you'd take their offer when I left you."

"I had nothing when you left. Nowhere to go. I didn't even want to live."

Her face grew pink. "I know. I felt the same. I didn't know you had joined for many years and then, I assumed you'd want nothing to do with me."

Her words struck him hard. She appeared to be truthful, and he could imagine what she went through. It was the same line of thought he had about wanting to protect Kaylee. If he walked away, didn't he save her from the pain of being dragged further into his world?

It hadn't worked that way for Zyra.

"So I didn't try to find you," she finished. "You can hate me for it, but I never meant to hurt you. And, if you have a free evening, we can sit and talk. Politics aside."

"I don't think that'll happen," he said quietly.

Emotion flashed in her eyes before the stoic mask returned. "It was worth a try, right?" she asked. By the faint tremor in her voice, she'd truly hoped he said yes.

How could he? Did he want to? He didn't know. Usually, when he was emotionally distressed he walked away.

Nathan leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. He lingered then stepped back and went to the stairs leading into the house. He clicked the remote to open the garage door.

"Nathan, if you won't kill the anchor, I will. I didn't want to have to issue an ultimatum. I wanted us to work together."

He was quiet for a moment. While he was the only who could get near Kaylee, Zyra's people could kill Kaylee from afar. A bullet to the head, an explosion.

Kaylee didn't have a chance, if he didn't do what Zyra wanted.

"Give me two days, Zyra," he said. "I'll kill the anchor. If I don't, I'll back off and let you handle it."

"You're serious?" she asked, a small smile crossing her face. "Nathan, together we can –"

"There is no we. I don't agree with what you're doing, but I know that Shadowman can't be allowed to hurt others. Think about what you're doing, Zyra," he urged. "You're right this time, because the situation is very black-and-white. But what happens when it's not, and you take the wrong life?"

"Come with me. You could decide what to do in the grey areas," she replied quickly. "You and I could run 3G together. We were always a good team."

_God, it's so tempting!_ The only woman he ever loved, combined with the power to do what Pedro wouldn't allow him to now, all to make the world a better place.

If not for Kaylee appearing, he'd walk out of the garage with Zyra, no questions asked.

He turned away. "See you around, Zyra," he called over his shoulder.

"Two days!" she reminded him.

He walked into the house and closed the door behind him.

"So," Maggy said. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed and features grim. "How'd it go?"

"Anticlimactic," he quipped. "I need a cigar and a drink. Then we'll talk about why you didn't tell me there are three people like Amira with keys to the gateway, and I'll tell you how we're going to handle Kaylee."

# Sixteen

When Kaylee awoke to find Nathan gone, she began to feel the familiar weight of dread in her gut again. She dressed and searched the house in the morning light, the heaviness growing.

She had a feeling he hadn't just run out for breakfast. She stood in the living room, gaze on the empty driveway. She'd slept better in his arms than she had the past month. Even waking to the familiar presence of Shadowman, she felt good after Nathan's attentive, consuming lovemaking. He managed to take her mind off everything but where he'd touch her next. She hadn't expect the abrupt man determined to remain isolated of being capable of sensitivity of any kind, let alone aware of how to please a woman in bed.

He'd been gentle but assertive, guiding her body, savoring every inch of her, and taking her to climax with intensity she never experienced before. Sleeping with him had been incredible, intoxicating, overwhelming. His heat melted her from the inside out, his passion making her feel like the most cherished, worshipped woman in the world.

And now he was gone, once again the man she didn't trust. No matter how irritating his approach to her was, he had gone out of his way to help her more than once. She tried to convince herself of this, unable to understand someone who seemed full of contradictions.

"I don't understand that man."

Confusion was fed by anger, and she suspected he hadn't planned on last night happening. She definitely hadn't.

What was clear: he didn't stick around.

"It doesn't take law school to know he was looking for a one nighter."

Kaylee went to the kitchen. She had no idea whose house this was, but she was hungry enough that she'd eat their food. She made herself scrambled eggs and toast then sat at the kitchen table. The house was too quiet. Normally, in her apartment building, someone else's alarm woke her in the morning before hers went off, and the sounds of showering or creaking floors were constant until she left for work. When she got home, someone's television was always up loud and the scents of others' cooking drifted in via the vents.

Now that she was alone with herself, she missed the sounds she'd grown accustomed to.

It was eight. She'd slept in and caught herself tensing up, afraid someone at work would miss her, if she were too late.

Except there was no work to go to. The finality of yesterday's events grew even clearer. She had absolutely, positively nowhere to go and no one who would miss her when she didn't show up. Nathan ditched her and her family was never an option. All she had was Shadowman.

"Could you leave me alone for a few minutes?" she snapped at the invisible creature. "I just need to freakin' breathe for a minute."

He ignored her, and she sighed, slumping at the table.

The doorbell rang.

Kaylee straightened, surprised. Neither Nathan nor Shadowman was the type of person who knocked. If not them, who was here? The woman named Maggy? Someone else Nathan sent?

She stood and pulled her hair back loosely in the scrunchie she had around her wrist. Walking to the door, she paused to glance out of the picture window overlooking the front lawn and driveway.

She didn't recognize the late model, dark colored car in the driveway.

She waited for a moment to see if the person just left.

Another ring.

Uneasily, Kaylee cracked the door open.

A man she'd never seen before stood outside the door. He was handsome, tall and dressed all in black with piercings lining one ear. Spiked blond hair was tipped with black. Tattoos colored his neck and arms, and he wore a black metal pendant with the pentagram symbol. He was good-looking in a scary way, with a direct, striking blue gaze and the strange stillness of a predator, reminding her of Nathan.

_Definitely not a Girl Scout._

"Um, yeah?" she asked.

"You're Kaylee."

"Why?"

A look of awe or incredulity crossed his features, and he smiled broadly, revealing a row of bright, straight, polished teeth.

"It is such an honor to meet you," he said. "You have no idea how seriously I'm taking this. I can't thank you enough for the opportunity."

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"Not officially. I'm Edgar. You can call me Eddy. Your... friend contacted me. Asked me to help out. Can I come in?"

"Oh. Um, sure." She opened the door. Maybe she shouldn't be surprised that Nathan had such a weird range of friends or colleagues.

Eddy walked in and went to the table. He set down his backpack and pulled out what looked like a huge jewelry roll. Setting it on the table, he returned to his backpack.

"You hungry or thirsty or anything?" she asked, clearing her plate.

"No, thanks."

While Eddy looked scary, he sounded cheerful and much friendlier than Nathan had ever been.

When she returned to the table, the jewelry roll was laying open across the table. She sank into the seat nearest him without getting in his way and gazed at the line of weaponry. Knives, throwing darts, stakes like those she'd seen used for tents. He was checking all of them expertly with large, strong hands.

"Wow. You came prepared," she said, reaching out to touch one. The black steel was cold and smooth.

"That's sorta my job," he replied. "I'm an assassin. Supposed to protect you."

_Sure. Why not._

"I bet you've had a lot of issues."

"Too many," she replied. "What is this for?" She picked up a spike, frowning at it. "Looks like what they use on television against vampires."

He laughed. "Yeah, it does. You stab someone then..." He took it from her and held it up. He tapped the top, and spikes popped out along the stake. "I save these for people who piss me off. Kind of painful."

She grimaced.

He continued checking everything then began placing the weapons in discreet sheaths around his body. What weapons remained he rolled back up and replaced in his backpack.

"I don't know how you all can be so used to this," she murmured. "Killing, death."

Eddy gave her a small smile of understanding. His movement stilled, and he studied her.

"I can't imagine what it's like, being Shadowman's host. You aren't what I expected," he admitted. "You're... nice."

"He took out three hundred people yesterday, and I can't kill a spider." The admission caught in her throat, and the last words came out choked.

"I guess there's no reasoning in how these things work."

"You're not afraid to be here?" she asked curiously. "Even with him here?"

"Is he here now?" Eddy looked around.

"Yeah. He comes and goes but he's here now."

"Not afraid. Honored."

She frowned, puzzled by his choice of words at being in the presence of a demon.

"Take this." He pulled free one of the knives he'd placed at his calf. It was smaller than the rest. "Just in case something happens, and I can't get to you." He pushed it into a small sheath and set it before her. "Pointy end goes in attacker."

"Sound so simple." She took it uneasily.

"Well, since we're housemates for now, I'm going to pick out a room," he said and stood. "If you want to grab some food or anything, we can go out in a bit."

"I'm allowed to leave?"

"Sure. As long as I'm with you." He smiled. "Nothing will get near you." He hefted his backpack and left her in the dining room to scout out his room.

Kaylee sighed. Not only had Nathan left her this morning without an explanation but he'd also sent someone else to babysit her. If that wasn't a sign he didn't want to be involved, nothing was.

Eddy's rustling was a welcome sound in the house she found too quiet minutes before. A faint buzzing sound reached her ears as well, and she paused. He didn't answer the ringing phone. She wondered if it was hers. She didn't recall having it when they arrived yesterday, but she'd been too distraught to pay much attention.

She walked to the master bedroom and looked around to find the source of the sound. The ringing stopped and then started again a moment later. Following it, she knelt and spotted her cell phone just under the bed, half covered by her underwear. She grabbed the phone and leaned back.

Nathan's name crossed the screen.

She took a great deal of satisfaction out of hitting the red button to hang up on him. The feeling faded and was replaced by a combination of sadness and guilt. Why was she hoping there was more between them than one night?

"Kaylee?" Eddy called.

"I'm here." She rose and tucked the phone in her pocket. "Just... making the bed." She hurried to follow through with her words. When she was done, she left the bedroom.

Eddy was poking at the locks on the windows in the living room. "I'm going to secure everything. Keep the windows and doors locked, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." She sat down on the couch and listened as he made his way slowly through the entire house.

Her phone buzzed. She was angry with him. But the idea Nathan texted was too intriguing. She pulled it out.

_You okay?_ He had messaged her.

She considered, wanting to tell him to go to hell or ask him why he'd left and sent someone else to do his job. Or simply tell him that last night was a mistake and never to talk to her again.

Unless he wanted to sleep over again.

She cursed herself and kept her response short.

_Yep. Awesome._

Satisfied, she lowered the phone and grabbed the remote to the television. She clicked it on, needing a distraction from Nathan. His response was quick.

_Good. About last night..._

She glared at the phone. Her heart was hammering, her gut twisting at the anticipation of what he'd say. She wasn't going to let him break it off first.

_It was a mistake. I know._ She texted back. _No worries. I get it._

"And if you believe that, you son of a bitch..." she mumbled under her breath. She flipped through a few channels until finding a crime show marathon, waiting for his response.

_Agreed. No hard feelings._

She gave a sound of frustration and threw her phone at the chair, barely missing Eddy as he walked in.

"Whoa," he said, leaning back with lightning reflexes. "Everything okay?"

"Great," she retorted.

He chuckled. "Just checking the locks on the door. Don't throw anything."

"Sorry, Eddy. It's not your fault," she replied. "It's been a long week."

"Shit happens," he said cheerfully. He opened the door and tested the lock. The deadbolt was stuck and didn't budge. He knelt and set down a small took kit, retrieving a screwdriver to take apart the lock.

"You do this often?" she asked. "Act as a bodyguard?"

"Not usually. But I like a challenge. Life gets boring when it's predictable. You know?"

"Maybe." Her eyes went to the phone, which vibrated with a new message. "Sometimes, I think predictable is good, though. Like in relationships."

"Oh, no. That's the worst. You don't want to get bored with your other half."

"Maybe not bored. Just don't want to... live in an emotional tornado."

He glanced at her. "I'm guessing that's why you're throwing phones around."

"I need some coffee." She rose and left, wanting to get away from the phone and Nathan more than anything else.

Eddy was sweet to listen. It was hard for her to remember he was there to kill anyone who got close to her. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. She felt comfortable around him, the way she had Evan and his father. Was he one of the reincarnated angels Nathan told her about?

"You want a cup of coffee?" she called, rummaging around the stranger's kitchen for coffee supplies.

"Sure. Black."

She gathered everything then brewed a pot, slipping again into thoughts about Nathan. They left her angry and her hands trembling, because she couldn't help thinking she might melt right back into his arms, if he so much as smiled at her again.

When the coffee was done, she took two mugs into the living room.

Eddy was still at the door. He'd move the chair over so he could sit down and fix the lock. She set down his cup on the side of the coffee table nearest him and picked up her phone, which he'd placed on the table.

She eyed it, uncertain if she wanted anything to do with Nathan then deciding she was pissed enough that she had to take out her emotion on someone. Plopping down, she unlocked her screen. Nathan had texted twice.

_We can talk, if you want to answer the phone._

This message was from ten minutes ago and was followed by two attempts to call her.

She rolled her eyes at it, wishing she could strangle him, and then read the second text. She almost wished she'd seen it before spending ten minutes in the kitchen then decided that no, she was glad she didn't. She would've answered, instead of moving on and focused on staying alive, which was what she needed to do.

_Guess not. Sending someone over to make sure you're okay._

"A little late to the party, Nathan," she told him then messaged him back. _He's already here._

"Thanks for the coffee," Eddy said, reaching for it.

"You're welcome," she replied and wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

Eddy was oiling and testing the deadbolt. "Think that's it."

She watched him for a few minutes, drinking her coffee. Her phone vibrated. She wanted to ignore it, but something about Nathan drew her in. She checked it.

_Go somewhere private and call me, please. It's important._

She gazed at the message for a moment, sensing something was wrong without knowing exactly what. It was in the phrasing. Nathan was never polite. He was blunt and to the point. Arrogant.

"You need more coffee?" she asked.

"Not yet," Eddy said, attention on replacing the lock.

"I do."

He glanced at her with a smile.

Kaylee nervously tucked her hair behind her ears and smoothed out the shirt she'd found in the fully stocked closet, even knowing Nathan wasn't going to see her when she called. She poured herself another cup of coffee then dialed his number and walked to the bay window looking out over the grassy backyard.

"Hey." His unnaturally low voice sent desire spinning through her.

"What's up?" she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Can you talk in private?"

"Yep."

"I didn't send whoever is with you."

Kaylee froze, the mug halfway to her mouth.

"I need you to stay calm and pretend like you don't know that," he said in a quiet, firm tone. "Did he give you a name?"

She listened without registering his question for a few seconds. She was straining to hear Eddy in the living room.

"Yes," she answered. She shook her head and turned to make sure the stranger wasn't standing in the doorway, listening.

She could see him at the front door still.

"Edgar. Goes by Eddy," she whispered.

"Blond hair, tattoos, likes knives?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting." Nathan said nothing for a moment. "You okay?"

"Great. He's a nice guy."

"He's a member of a Satanist cult." There was amusement in Nathan's voice. "Shadowman probably called him in to help out."

She listened, amazed. "This is messed up."

"Yeah. But since Shadowman wants you alive, you'll be fine. Just don't give Eddy a reason to cut you."

It wasn't the news she expected. It didn't seem fair for her to be stuck with a demon and a Satanist-assassin. Her temper got the better of her.

"Here you are, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, can't even say goodbye after a one night stand, and you're the _good_ guy. Meanwhile, Eddy is sweet and nice and even gave me a knife to defend myself, and he's the _bad _guy?"

"Kaylee –"

"You know what, Nathan? Do me favor and just stay away from me. You and all your friends. I'd rather deal with this alone than with you!"

She hung up, fuming.

"Everything all right?" Eddy called.

_Things just keep getting worse._ She fought back tears of anger.

"Yeah," she managed and cleared her throat. "Just... broke up. That's all." She studied the phone. She wanted so badly just to delete Nathan's contact. She didn't. Instead, she erased his messages and changed his name, in case Eddy got a hold of her phone.

Satisfied, she drew a shaky breath and tucked it into her pocket. Grabbing a new cup of coffee, she returned to the living room.

"You look like you could use some chocolate," Eddy said with a sympathetic smile. "Here's some good news. I fixed the lock."

_Something is really wrong with the world when you can trust a Satanist over a spirit guide._

"That's good." She rubbed her forehead. "This coffee is terrible."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I didn't want to say anything."

"Wanna go out for a cup?"

"Sure."

She rose again and went to the bedroom to grab her shoes. Sliding her feet into the flats, she gazed at the bed where she'd spent the night with Nathan. If she breathed in deeply enough, she'd smell and taste him again.

Her phone vibrated. This time, she didn't look.

Eddy was waiting for her at the door. He opened it, paused then closed it.

Kaylee waited, gazing up at him.

"We gotta cover one thing, first," he said, facing her. "I'm assuming that was Nathan you called."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"I'm cool with that," he said. "But, keep in mind that Shadowman can find you anywhere you are, which means I can, too, because he wants me to stick by you. He doesn't care if you're missing toes, fingers, legs, an arm, as long as you're alive to be his host. The difference between Shadowman and me: I actually want you to keep you in one piece. And I will, as long as you don't try anything funny like running when we go get coffee."

She stared at him. The words were cordial but firm.

"We straight?"

She nodded, temporarily speechless after his friendly threat.

"Great. Let's go!" Eddy said in a tone befitting a camp counselor. He flashed a smile and opened the door.

_Okay, so maybe Nathan's not that bad_. She touched the phone in her pocket. Eddy's quick speech made her anger disappear in a puff, but it did remind her that however nice Eddy was, he wasn't there to help her. He was there to help Shadowman keep her in line.

Nathan really was her only ally, even if the personal side of the equation was currently a disaster.

She walked to the door then hunched her shoulders. Shadowman was at her heels.

"Eddy's here. Leave me alone!" she snapped at the fallen guardian.

For once, the creature listened to her. The oppressive presence dissipated.

Kaylee released a breath and rolled her shoulders back.

Eddy was watching her closely from a few feet down the sidewalk.

"I can't breathe when he's around," she muttered.

"Did he leave?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"It's true then that you can talk to one another?"

She nodded.

"That's incredible," he said. "What does he say about me?"

"Um, nothing yet," she replied. "He doesn't talk much."

"Is it like communicating with other demons and angels? You just know his response?"

"Is that how it works?" she asked, walking with him towards the car.

"Yeah. Usually. It's like how sometimes you suddenly know something you didn't know before. Like where to find something or how to do something. You know what I mean?"

"Hmm. Maybe."

"They work the same. They plant thoughts in your head," he explained.

"If you tell me I should be wearing a tinfoil hat..."

Eddy laughed. "No. Try it. Ask him something out loud. The first response that comes to your mind is his answer."

"This is bizarre," she said. She got into the passenger seat, not wanting to think about Shadowman having any sort of access to her mind.

"Try it!" Eddy sounded excited. He got in and closed his door, starting the car. "Ask him something only he should know. Like... how many people were in the office building yesterday."

She considered. "Actually, I've got a better question. I just... ask him?"

Eddy nodded and waited.

"How did Mike die?" she asked into thin air then braced herself for the answer.

An image of a pretty woman with bright blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair filled her mind. She saw the woman sneak up behind Mike in the parking garage, wrap a wire around his neck then choke him to death and push him into the trunk of his car.

"Oh," she murmured. "It wasn't Shadowman."

"Who is Mike?"

"My old boss."

Eddy smiled then laughed. "How I've dreamed about taking out my boss."

"You're an assassin," she said, puzzled. "You couldn't make that happen?"

"It's not like on TV," Eddy said with a snort. "You know how hard it is to make it so no one sees you coming, commit the act, and then leave? You have to make it so that no one misses you for the time you're doing it, so you have an alibi, in case the worst happens one day and you're a suspect." He shook his head. "Not easy. Besides, I only use my skills for certain evil."

"The more I learn, the worse things get."

"So he told you how he killed Mike?"

"He showed me," she answered. "Maybe he only talks to me when he's in his human form."

"He has one of those?"

"Yeah." She looked at him. "How did he tell you to find me?"

"Through one of our rites," he replied. "I was deep in a trance when I saw a vision of you here. I knew I had to find you."

"That's it?"

"It's not my first rodeo," Eddy assured her. "I know the difference between a hallucinogenic vision and when the demons are talking to me." He pulled out onto the main road leading to the house.

Her phone vibrated again. Overwhelmed by the bizarre exchange with Eddy, she pulled out her cell.

_Tell me if he moves you away from the house. I'll find you._

She shook her head texted him back quickly. _No. This guy is dangerous._

"Nathan?" Eddy asked.

Kaylee glanced at him then down to read Nathan's response.

_So am I._

Eddy snatched the phone from her and rolled down his window. He tossed it out into oncoming traffic. Kaylee twisted in time to see a car run it over.

"Problem solved," Eddy said. "He won't make you cry anymore, right?"

"That's one way to look at it," she said.

"You're pretty cool, Kaylee." Eddy was satisfied, his cheerful appearance offset by the wariness of his restless gaze.

She sat back in her seat. Her courage began to crumble again. Like yesterday, she couldn't stop the tears. She cried quietly for a moment.

Eddy pulled into the parking lot of a Starbucks and waited. He tapped the steering wheel, gaze going to her.

"Okay. This is awkward," he said. "If you're upset because I threw your phone out the window, then I'm sorry."

"No," she replied, regaining her composure. "I just... Nathan makes my head want to explode. I just want to strangle him and then sometimes, I just want him to kiss me."

"Ah. One of those situations," Eddy said. "In that case, if I let you call him whenever you want, will you stop crying? I just need to be able to monitor what you say to him, in case there's some escape plan hatching. We straight?"

She nodded. Nathan was the last person she thought she'd want to talk to but the only one she could think of who made the supernatural nightmare she'd entered a little less scary.

Eddy pulled out his phone and dialed then handed it to her. Kaylee swallowed her tears.

"Nathan." His low voice was clipped.

"Hey," she said.

"Are you okay?" The edge disappeared. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She glanced at Eddy. "He's being nice. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Eddy gave her the thumbs-up sign.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she said.

"It's not your fault, Kaylee," Nathan replied softly. "We need to get through this. When it's over, we'll talk about last night."

_That doesn't sound promising._

"You should stay away, Nathan," she told him. "Shadowman and Eddy aren't going to let you near me anyway."

"I'm coming for you, sweetheart. I don't care who or what gets in my way. They can't stop me anyway."

"You're such an arrogant asshole."

"I hear that a lot. Must be a turn on to be around someone who's always right. Makes women drop like flies around me."

"Oh, really? You're wrong about a few things," she retorted. "First, Shadowman didn't kill Mike. A blonde with blue eyes did! Second, it's not being an asshole that makes women fall at your feet. It's your twelve-inch dick! That's all you have going for you, Nathan, because your people skills suck!"

"Ten and a half, but thanks for the boost."

"Third, I swear to god, if you think I'm going to fall at your feet or if call me sweetheart one more time, I will use the knife Eddy gave me on you."

"You don't have it in you," Nathan replied, laughing.

She hung up on him.

"That's not a healthy relationship," Eddy said, accepting the phone back. "Does he really have a twelve inch dick?"

"Ten and a half." She wiped her face, furious enough to shake. "I don't want to talk to him anymore. Remind me of that if I ask again or if he calls me."

"Yeah, sure," Eddy replied. "You want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't." She opened the car door and got out. She wiped her eyes. "I want this to be over."

"I don't think that's possible. You might as well get used to me and Shadowman." Eddy held the door open for her.

"Why are you so happy?"

"Because I love my job."

"That's just... insane."

The happy, Satan-worshipping assassin went to the counter to order them coffee. Strung out on emotion, Kaylee sat down in a corner.

Her skin smelled of Nathan. It was killing her. She wanted to be wrapped in his arms again, even if he was the biggest asshole she'd ever met in her entire life.

# Seventeen

Nathan winged his phone across the room. It smacked into the wall and clattered to the ground. He faced the blank wall, fuming.

"Dude. Take the meltdown outside," Maggy snapped.

"I can't _think_ straight," he returned. "I need to go."

"Nathan!"

He turned to gaze at her. She, Jordan and Randy were seated in the garage, planning how to address the Kaylee issue.

"We've almost got a plan. Just chill," Maggy said.

"I work better alone, Mags. Sorry." He snatched his jacket and left, slamming the side door leading out of the garage. The tears in Kaylee's voice bothered him in a way he didn't expect them to.

Worse – he already felt guilty about killing her and hadn't even done it yet. He'd never failed in a mission and he was having a whole lot of doubts about this one.

"Nathan!" Maggy followed. "Would you stop?"

He did and breathed deeply.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded, moving to face him.

"You really have to ask?" he replied.

"Yes. And no. I know about Zyra appearing and this mess with Kaylee. You can handle this. You've handled worse. Just suck it up and focus."

Nathan clasped his hands on top of his head, struggling not to just walk away.

"Do you know where you're going?" Maggy asked.

"To fix this."

"You can't, Nathan, not without us."

He bit back his words.

"This plan is _your_ idea. You can't run out on it!"

"I'm not running out," he replied through clenched teeth. "I'm going to get Kaylee."

"You're going to fuck up any chance we have of making this work."

Some part of him knew she was right. He dropped his arms, forcing himself to calm down.

"You're the most dedicated guide I know. What is with you?"

Nathan gazed into space for a moment. "I treat every case the same. I'm having a hard time doing that this time."

"Oh, so you _do_ have emotions." Maggy rolled her eyes. "First gens and every other incarnated angel love you, because they see that part of you that you refuse to. You put this thick shell around you, but you're the only one fooled by it. You know what?"

He met her gaze.

"I'm _glad_ you finally realized you're still human. What you're going through is what every other guide goes through. Maybe understanding that, you won't be such a bitch to deal with."

"Did you just call me a bitch?"

Maggy whirled, stalking back to the house.

"I fucked up, Mags."

She froze. "You've never, _ever_ admitted to being wrong about anything since I met you five hundred years ago."

"Not saying I'm wrong. Just did something I wouldn't normally do."

"Surprise me."

He chuckled. "You asked me where I was last night..."

"No!" she exclaimed, facing him. "You didn't sleep with Zyra!"

"Not Zyra."

Maggy's puzzled expression turned down her lips on one side.

"Kaylee."

Rather than incite her, the words had the opposite effect. Her shoulders dropped and she twisted the ring on her finger.

"All right. I give. Why is that bad?" she asked. "I mean, I know you date lots of women. If it was Zyra, yeah, I'd have your balls for that one."

"Hel-lo. The woman you want me to kill?" He crossed his arms. "I've never killed anyone I slept with."

"Only you would use sex as a measure for whether or not you kill someone. Maybe it's my female brain, but I don't have any idea what's wrong with you."

"I. Feel. Bad." The words sounded as painful as they were to say. He didn't like emotions – hadn't bothered to tap into them for many centuries. "I can handle anything. Just not this."

"Wrong," Maggy said. Amusement appeared with her smile. "You can handle it. You just don't want to, because God help you, you actually _like_ this girl. After what? Four days? How long did I try to wring any sort of affection out of you?"

"This isn't about us," he warned.

"Nothing ever was. I'm glad you get to kill Kaylee, because I want you to know what it's like to lose someone you care about. At least Kaylee will be back in one piece, unlike the hearts you broke over your lifetime."

"You're not getting it," he said, unfazed.

"Omigod. I can't do this." She spun and left him. "Fuck you, Nate."

He watched her, suspecting she was right about everything for once but not wanting to admit it, especially to her. He'd never been conflicted about any case he worked or the outcome or about doing his job. He didn't want to imagine what losing Kaylee for good might feel like.

It was a horrible feeling.

"The funny thing is – she'll still drop her clothes in a heartbeat if you ask her," Troy said from behind him. "No idea how you do that, Nate."

Nathan turned to face his longtime friend. He looked Troy over then grinned. The spirit guide was the way Nathan remembered him from five years ago: cleanly shaven with a goatee, trimmed hair, and dressed casually. His large, dark eyes were visible, and he smelled earthy rather than like a man who'd been wallowing in his room for weeks.

"I'm just that good," Nathan responded.

"Still your own biggest fan, I see."

Nathan laughed, grateful for the brief release of tension.

"Why aren't I invited to this party?" Troy complained, crossing his muscular arms. "You drop off some little girl at my place with no explanation and no warning she can't hear a word I tell her. Oh, and about the portal to Hell? Thanks for mentioning that, too."

"How's she doing?"

"Fine. Alive. Typical first gen. Thinks I'm wrong to want to kill myself." Troy shrugged. "You gonna clue me in or do I just keep guessing?"

"Come on. We're planning." Nathan drew a deep breath then started towards the garage. "You really want in on this?"

"Tired of trying to kill myself. Maybe someone else can do the job."

"Pedro won't let you go."

Troy walked with him towards the townhouse. "Is he the smartest person in the universe or the dumbest? I can't figure it out."

"I've been asking myself that since I met him," Nathan responded.

They entered the garage, and the three waiting for them looked up. Maggy's face was still flushed from their discussion.

"You all know Troy," Nathan said, sitting on a box.

"I thought you were dead," Randy said to Troy.

"Not yet."

Nathan snorted. When they had some down time, he'd have a talk with his old friend. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what.

"The plan," Jordan began "is to temporarily kill Kaylee. We've got a distraction planned to draw Shadowman's attention away from her. Probably won't give us much time, so Nate has to be quick."

Nathan listened. The demon was cunning to pull in Eddy, who was skilled enough and more than willing to try to kill any of them, if given the chance. Along with their other duties, the guides kept tabs on certain members of the Satanist movement, specifically those who were reincarnated angels.

Eddy was a second gen. Not innately bad, he'd somehow gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd when young, possibly because his spirit guide was a newbie who didn't know how to recognize the signs his charge needed help.

"We got a report this morning that Zyra's group is close to Kaylee. We don't think they've figured out where she is, or they would've acted. Sorry, Nate. I don't trust the two day truce she offered you," Maggy said.

"Me neither," he agreed.

"We're moving tonight," Randy added. "Distraction – boom. Nathan pops in, takes care of Kaylee. We bring her back when Shadowman is gone."

_Assuming this works._ Abruptly, Nathan understood what was bothering him.

He listened to them walk Troy through the plan, distracted by his thoughts. While he didn't need a woman permanently in his life, he didn't want to lose the only chance he may ever have with an OTL, either. The type of love between two destined to be together was the stuff of legends. He never in his life thought he wanted something like that, not since losing Zyra. But he wasn't willing to kill the only chance he might ever get at having it.

What did that make him?

_A confused idiot._

The most important question wasn't what happened if they couldn't bring her back. It was what happened if he failed to execute the plan in the first place. Tonight was the only chance to save her, and to do so, he _had_ to kill her.

He couldn't hesitate. He had to do what he did best: put his emotions on hold, clean up this mess then deal with the consequences tomorrow. After all, there was no chance with Kaylee, if he failed in his mission. He could still decide to walk away from her tomorrow, but at least she'd be alive.

Resolve solidified within him.

There was no other way.

Maggy's phone rang. She glanced down at it and frowned then stood and walked a short distance to answer.

Though he couldn't hear her, Nathan saw her face change at the short conversation. She hung up then stood in thought for a moment before returning to them.

"Guys, we have a problem," she started. "3G found Kaylee. They know who she is and where she is right now. We think they're going after her at some point tonight."

"They might be doing us a favor. Providing a distraction so we don't have to." Nathan rose. "Looks like we're moving the plan up."

"We'll have to."

The others rose and quickly began to gather their shoes, weapons and gear. Maggy's soft hand rested on Nathan's roped forearm.

"You ready for this?" she asked, studying him.

"Absolutely," he replied. "It's the only way."

"Okay. I'll send word to have the medical gear on standby." She reached over to the table to grab a small, black bag that contained two syringes. "Just one of these. It'll be painless for her. If for some reason, you don't have the three minutes it takes to put her out, then use two. But only if you have to. We need to be able to clean out her blood when we revive her. It'll be harder with two."

"No worries, Mags," he assured her with a smile. "I'm the best guide for a reason."

"With the worst possible rating in history."

"Because I always get the job done." He winked and grabbed his gear then smacked the button on the wall to open the garage door.

Ducking beneath the rising door, he breathed in the cool fall morning air deeply with a glance at the bag in his hands.

They'd gone with fast acting poison as the method to kill her. There were quick ways involving a gun or knives, but this would be painless with the added bonus that they'd limit the physical damage to her body. He didn't think all the spirit guides' in the world could repair a bullet to the head – but modern medicine could clean her blood of poison, once they got her heart beating again.

He didn't exactly want to feel her blood on his hands anyway. This way she simply fell asleep and woke up later.

_It's just another case._ The reminder wasn't working. It made him feel ill, knowing what exactly was on the line.

# Eighteen

The Shadowman was chasing her. Amira ran through the streets, breathing hard and legs burning. The faster she ran, the closer he seemed to get. The red stone was clenched in her hand, glowing. It gave her away whenever she tried to lose him in an alley or doorway, a beacon he could see no matter where he was.

"Run, Amira!" Scott was ahead of her, fighting off Zyra and one of the men with her, the way he had the night he died.

_It's just a dream._ Amira repeated this to herself once more, but she couldn't help the fear or escape the clutches of the nightmare to wake up.

She ran around a corner and found herself in a cornfield, newly harvested. She stopped, lost. The moon was directly overhead, gently illuminating the rolling hills of the farm where she stood. No on else was with her, and she saw no roads, houses or fencing that might help orient her. Cornstalks were outlined with ice from the first frost, and the ground beneath her was hard.

Her breath floated upwards. She watched it and shivered in the still, chilly air.

The red stone was warm, drawing her gaze. She looked down at it. It was casting a light like a laser beam onto the ground. The stone grew hot enough to burn her hand. Dropping it, she knelt hurriedly to snatch it back up.

Shadowman appeared, beating her to it. He grabbed the stone and crushed it in his hand, sprinkling the dust onto the ground.

The earth beneath her trembled in response. It cracked open where he'd laid the dust, and fire shot out. A demon on a red horse burst out of the crack, the second of the archdemons of the Apocalypse.

Amira darted back, taking in what was before her. The flare of light drew her attention to two other people standing nearby, and she squinted to see them. Two girls, one petite with Asian features and another with auburn hair, wore looks displaying the horror she felt. Behind them, hidden by shadows, was Kaylee.

As she had the day she met Shadowman, Amira _heard_ his words.

"It's your turn to feel the fire, Amira."

He grabbed her and thrust her toward the flames of Hell.

She awoke thrashing and screaming. Her throat burned, even if she couldn't hear her scream. Shadowman was trying to wrestle her down, and she fought him, rolling with him out of her bed onto the floor. Within seconds, though, it was over. He simply overpowered her and pinned her on her belly on the carpet, his heavy body preventing her from moving.

His breath stirred the hair around her ear. His frame was hot, like the flames of her dream.

Or like that of a spirit guide's.

Unable to move, Amira struggled to orient herself. She'd left the dream behind and was lying on a floor that smelled dusty, like the rest of Troy's house. Her body was tense enough from trying to escape that her muscles ached, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Troy?" she asked.

He answered with a flare of warm energy like only a spirit guide could give.

Amira relaxed with a sigh, comforted by his body. He shifted off her, taking his warmth with him. The light on the nightstand beside the bed flipped on, and Amira sat.

Troy sat with his back to the nightstand, his legs entangled with hers. He was studying her. With a flare of awareness, she realized he wore no shirt and his sweat pants had ridden dangerously low on his lean hips. His upper body was chiseled, his hair mussed and gaze on her. He was so strong – and in so much pain from the loss of someone he loved.

He waved.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded and wiped the tears from her face. Worried about the stones, she reached up to the bed to grab them from beneath her pillow and held them in her hands, not caring what he thought about her being in a t-shirt and underwear.

"I dreamed Shadowman got us," she told him. "He opened the portal."

Troy shook his head. "Won't happen. You got me and Nathan on this one."

"I don't think anything can stop him," she replied. "Troy, there's something else about him I didn't tell you. He's capable of intelligent decisions and he's almost strong enough to take human form."

"You're saying he sees more than evil?"

She nodded.

"Guardians are different than normal angels," Troy grew pensive, his thumb tapping her leg.

Sensitive to how close they sat together, Amira's eyes drifted to the thumb. His hand rested absently on her leg.

"There's never been a fallen guardian," Amira said. "And I think... whatever made him fall, was the first step in some much greater evil." The idea of hurting the humans she loved distressed her, but she feared more what would happen if she revealed the truth behind what Shadowman was.

He waved, drawing her attention.

"His host," he started. "Guardian angels have different levels of skills and strengths, right? Like spirit guides?"

She nodded.

"What if he's reflective of his host?"

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head. She hadn't been able to figure out Kaylee's involvement.

"I mean, what if this girl he's linked to isn't a normal human?"

"I would know if she was an angel, or at least, within the first few generations of being incarnated for the first time." Amira debated, recalling all she could about the woman she'd met twice. "I'd know if she was another kind of incarnated spirit."

"What if she was far removed from her first incarnation?" he questioned. "This is the first fallen guardian in the history of the world. Or how about this. What creature from the Other Side has never been incarnated?"

"Archangel!" She sat up. "Is it even possible?"

"Why not?" He shrugged. "If a guardian angel could fall, why not one of the big guys choosing to be incarnated?"

The idea astounded her. The instinct that had been bothering her since meeting Kaylee was at a roar. She was meant to find Kaylee, so Kaylee could find the others. Did the incarnated archangel also have a better chance of controlling – if not stopping – the four archdemons than anyone else? In theory, she'd have a stronger connection with the Other Side than humans and reincarnated angels, maybe even more so than powerful spirit guides.

Amira felt hopeful for the first time since losing Scott. She needed to find Kaylee and warn her, then see what Shadowman's host could do to help find the other two girls. Maybe, together, they'd be able to stop him.

"We have to tell Nathan!" Amira leapt to her feet and yanked open her door. She dashed down the hallway and stairs to where she'd left her purse after they returned from their second trip to McDonald's.

Yanking her phone out, she had just pulled up Nathan's contact information to text him, when Troy rested a hand on hers.

She looked up at him.

"No." He took the phone from her. One hand rested at the small of her back, his bare upper body resting against her arm. She breathed in his scent once more, liking him better when he smelled like himself and not soap. "This kind of news, we don't discuss over the phone. Only in person."

"Oh, okay."

He took the phone from her and tossed it back into her purse without leaving her side. Amira froze where she was, enjoying the feel of him so close yet not at all certain what to do.

He tilted her chin up.

"You want to get clothes on? You can go like that if you want. I don't mind." His eyes went over her body slowly.

Suddenly, she was all too aware that she was in her underwear, standing next to a half-naked man she barely knew. Yes, he was her OTL, but _he_ didn't know that.

The way he looked at her, though, made her wish she'd spent more time learning how to relate to men than hiding her secrets from the rest of the world. Heart pounding, Amira moved away from him. She tugged her shirt down over her rump and hurried up the stairs to her room. With trembling hands, she dressed quickly and grabbed her stones, shoving them into the pocket of her jeans.

When she was ready, she left her room and went downstairs. Troy was in the kitchen in a sweater and jeans that outlined the shape of his frame, from the soft cashmere stretched across his chest to his thick thighs.

The sight of him made her stop in place and wish she had nicer clothes. She'd fled with Scott with all that she could fit in a backpack then sat in a mental health center for a month. She didn't even have a coat. It was the dog days of summer when she started running.

"You ready?" He met her gaze.

She nodded.

"You have a jacket?"

Amira shook her head.

Troy raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't been home in two months," she said. It took effort to say the words through her tight throat. She couldn't draw a deep enough breath, either.

His look warmed, the skin around his eyes softening. He hesitated then peeled off his sweater to reveal a dark t-shirt underneath. He handed the sweater to her.

She took it, face warm. Amira waited for him to leave the kitchen before she held the bunched up ball of material to her face and breathed in deeply.

It smelled like him, of wood smoke and dark, sweet cologne. She _loved_ his scent. Absorbed in it, she didn't notice he'd returned, until he nudged her.

Amira lowered the sweater quickly and turned, glancing up at him.

"I'm ready," she proclaimed then went towards the door. She tugged on his sweater as she went, loving the way it still retained some of his heat.

She walked outside and waited for him at the truck. He followed. Moments later, they were on the highway headed south, towards Washington DC. Amira shivered until the cab's interior was warm. She looked at Troy from the side of her eye. He seemed focused, not like he was interested in talking.

How did one start a conversation with the man meant to be her OTL but who also kind of came across as unapproachable?

Strange lightning lit up the skies to their right. She looked, frowning when she realized there were no clouds. It was the color of a flash of fire, like from her dreams. Amira clutched her hands together.

Troy tapped her, and she looked to him. He turned on the cab light so she could see his lips.

"I'm going to check it out," he said.

She shook her head.

"It's okay. I can take care of us."

_You don't know what you're dealing with._ She looked away, towards the light.

It stopped, and Troy turned down an intersection to take them closer to the strange sight. It came from the edge of town, in the direction of an empty field near the fairgrounds. It was quiet and dark, and Amira grew tenser the closer they got.

He stopped and pulled off the road. A short distance away, flashes of light were barely visible through the trees.

Troy opened his door, and she looked at him, surprised.

"Glove box." He pointed.

She opened it and saw it was filled with weapons. At her hesitation, he trotted around the truck and opened her door, leaning over her to grab a knife and gun. He placed the gun at the small of his back and tucked two more magazines into one pocket then clipped two knives to his belt.

Amira shrank away from the weapons, not liking the sight of them.

"You stay here," he said. "Take this. If anyone not me comes back, point and squeeze the trigger." He rested a gun on her lap.

She shook her head. "Life is sacred."

"So is yours. You shoot or you get shot." He appeared grave, and she thought again about how he was suicidal. What if he didn't come back, before she had a chance to help him?

"Don't go," she said. "Please. Scott died. I don't want you to die, too."

Troy offered a quick smile. He reached out and cupped her cheek then shifted forward, until their foreheads met. The gentle pulse of energy he sent through her was meant as reassurance. He pressed soft, warm lips against her forehead in a light kiss then leaned away.

"This is what I do. I'll be fine. I'll be back in forty-five minutes. If not, contact Nathan." He closed the door.

She watched him, not liking this adventure at all. Amira picked up the gun and replaced it in the glove box. When she looked up once more, there was no sign of Troy.

Tugging her stones free from her pocket, she dumped them into her hand then replaced all but the two-toned one. She gripped it.

Shadowman and his host were close, with the fallen guardian ahead of her and his host on the other side of the town. Amira's eyes strayed to the steering column.

Troy left his keys. Would he be terribly upset if she took a small detour, while he was busy? She had forty-five minutes, and the host was close enough for her to make it there and back before Troy returned.

She shifted out of her seat and into the driver's chair then adjusted the seat. Starting the car, she peered outside briefly for movement in the forest indicating he was coming back.

There was nothing.

She flipped on the lights and did a U-turn in the road then headed back the opposite way, the green-blue stone clenched in one hand to guide her. It led her to a small, ranch style house tucked down a long driveway off a side road. Taking a lesson from Troy, she parked on the road a few dozen feet away then got out and looked around.

A car pulled into the driveway, and she ducked behind the truck, hoping the driver didn't notice her. The vehicle continued and stopped in the driveway.

Amira walked along a small path in the trees on the opposite side of the driveway, stepping gingerly through the brush. When she drew abreast of the car, she stopped to see who was in it. There were two figures talking in the car, a man and a woman.

The lights of the vehicle were off, as if they didn't want the people in the house to know they were there, and they appeared to be hunched over something one of them held between them. The woman was too familiar, and Amira clutched the branch of the tree tickling her neck.

Zyra. The same woman who led the other guides to attack Scott both times.

Close to panicking, Amira sank further into the tree line and continued.

What did Zyra want? Had she sensed Amira here and followed?

Amira's hand went to the pouch in her pocket. What if Zyra was able to track her through the stones? As far as she knew, there were only four people who could use the stones. What if Zyra had one and figured out how to do the same?

_First things first. Get the stones to Kaylee._

Amira went to the back of the house. The host was here, in the kitchen.

Amira scanned the fence around the house and left the trees with some trepidation, aware she was fully exposed. The back gate was open, and she went through it then leaned against the house, so nervous, she almost felt like vomiting.

She tucked the two-toned stone into her pocket and tried to steady her nerves. Where better to hide the stones from Shadowman than in his own backyard, with the host that he would never let anyone get near? If she sought Kaylee's help to find the others but kept the red-orange one, he'd never be able to find the gateway, even if he got a hold of the rest of them.

# Nineteen

Kaylee began to think the owner of the house was never coming back. The pantry and refrigerator were stocked with food, the aged furniture showing signs of wear but also care. The lawn was neat and trimmed and the backyard fenced with a brick walkway leading to a small side gate.

It was past midnight, but she couldn't sleep. It was more than because the bedding smelled like Nathan. She was restless, scared. Uncertain she wanted to sleep in the same house as Eddy.

"Who do you think lives here, Eddy?" she asked, gazing out the bay window into the backyard.

"I'd say no one."

"Really? It seems like the house is waiting for someone to come home."

"There are no family photos on the wall. The furniture is mismatched and looks like it came from yard sales."

She padded from the kitchen into the living room again, taking in the furniture and walls once more.

"Looks like a safe house to me," he added. "Or maybe a back-up hide out or something."

"Guess I've never been to either of those kinds of places," she murmured. "Never been hunted down before."

Seated on the couch with his legs propped on the coffee table, he glanced up from his laptop.

"Is he around?" he asked.

She shook her head. "He's been gone all day. He's like this most days. Here and then not for long periods of time."

"Cool." He stretched to grab his phone off the coffee table and texted someone quickly. "I'm going to invite someone over for a few minutes."

"Like a babysitter calling his girlfriend while the kid is sleeping?"

"Sorta. Except this is definitely not my girlfriend."

Bored after spending the afternoon and evening in the house, Kaylee plopped down in the oversized chair near the door and grabbed a gardening magazine from a wooden magazine holder next to the chair.

"So do I just hide out for the rest of my life?" she asked. "I'll need a hobby, if so."

"I'm not sure what'll happen. Things are kinda crazy right now."

_No shit._ She rolled her eyes and flipped through the magazine then set it aside. Restless, Kaylee needed something to keep her mind off a reality that was growing clearer, the more time she thought about it.

There was only one way to keep Shadowman from swallowing another office building. Not that he would, if she remained isolated from the rest of humanity, but the potential was always there.

She pushed herself up and went to the kitchen. "You want some tea?"

"No, thanks."

The Satanist assassin was the politest person she'd met in about five years. Kaylee dwelled on the strangeness of her situation before her attention settled on the block of knives. She crossed the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

If it came to it, and she had to off herself, could she do it? She'd never once in her life considered suicide. She hated the sight of blood and going to the doctor. Would she even know where to stab herself?

She picked up a knife and fiddled with it. It appeared to be sharp enough. She touched her chest, over her heart. How hard would she have to stab herself to pierce her ribs?

Never before had she weighed the feasibility of stabbing someone in the heart. The vampire horror movies she'd watched made it look easy, but the only way she could think of to do it was to fall on the knife.

What if she did it but it didn't work, and all she managed to do was torture herself? Or maybe die slowly, painfully?

The images in her head left her unsettled, her stomach churning. Kaylee set down the knife, sickened.

She'd need help, if it came to suicide. Would it make more of a difference if she had to do it to stop Shadowman from hurting someone else, or was she just a coward in general?

The microwave beeped, indicating her tea water was done. She went to it, attention caught by movement outside the bay window. The lighting from the kitchen lit up the closest area of the backyard, illuminating the lone figure that stood outside.

Amira.

Kaylee froze, half a second from calling for Eddy.

Amira beckoned to her with both hands then held up her hands and spun in a full circle, as if to show she had no weapons this time. She waved once more for Kaylee to come outside.

Kaylee considered, recalling what Nathan had said about the special young woman who had a knack for showing up out of nowhere.

"I'm going to... stargaze," she called to Eddy. "Be in the back yard."

"I'll come get you when the person I texted shows," he returned. "Don't wander off, Kaylee." The friendly warning was in his voice again.

"I won't." She didn't want to know what he planned on doing if she screwed up and he caught her. "I like my fingers and toes."

"Good."

She shivered and crossed to the back door, tea mug in one hand. The screen door creaked loudly, and she glanced over her shoulder before taking a step out of the house.

Amira was waiting, hands in the pockets of her jeans.

Kaylee pressed a finger to her lips, indicating for Amira to keep quite, then pointed to the shed in one corner of the back yard.

Amira walked with her towards it, her light step quiet. As they drew near, the motion detector lights around the shed lit up. Kaylee took Amira's arm and raced around behind the shed, terrified of Eddy's threats to cut her if she tried anything. Only when they were behind the toolshed did Kaylee face her.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly.

Amira drew a deep breath. "First, I'm sorry for hurting you."

Kaylee waited, hoping Eddy couldn't hear them from the house.

"I need to know something," Amira continued. "Shadowman can track me. If he can track me, then he can track the others. I need to know if you can, too."

"So you can stab me again?"

Amira smiled and shook her head. "So we can find them and warn them."

"You want me to tell you where the are?"

"Yes."

"How do I do that?" Kaylee's brow furrowed. Was it even possible? Just today, she'd learned how to talk to Shadowman.

Amira knelt on the ground. She pulled a small velvet dice bag from her pocket and dumped the contents on the ground. Three of the smooth stones were light blue while the fourth was half blue, half green. The fifth was orange-red.

"This is you." Amira pointed to the two-toned stone. "This is me. These are the others."

"I'm two-toned, because of Shadowman?" Kaylee frowned, dismayed.

Amira nodded. She picked up a rock and handed it to Kaylee.

Kaylee held it, surprised to feel the slight vibration of the stone. It was warm, too.

"That's mine!" Amira explained. "The stone has some of my energy stored inside it."

"Okay. Whose are these two?"

"I don't know them. We have to find them."

Kaylee picked up another one. It felt the same as Amira's.

"Ask it where the key holder is," Amira urged her.

"Where are... you?" Kaylee asked awkwardly. Her face grew warm at the idea of talking to a rock.

Similar to how Shadowman had told her what happened to Mike, she began to experience sensations in her mind. She saw nothing but was bombarded by sounds. Waves crashing onto the shore, seagulls, the distant blare of a boat horn.

Amira was watching her.

"Near the ocean," Kaylee said. "Not much detail, though."

"That's awesome!" Amira's face glowed. She picked up all the rocks except for the red one and replaced them in the pouch. The red one she shoved in her pocket. "Take these. Practice. But don't let Shadowman have them. You have to protect them from Shadowman. Like, you shouldn't even think of them when he's around, okay?" She held out the velvet bag.

"I don't think you should leave these with me. I've got a lot of issues right now."

"You must find them! Someone is after me, and I think... I know that you should be able to protect these from Shadowman." Amira said with urgency. "If you find them, tell Nathan where they are."

"I'm not talking to Nathan." Kaylee snapped. She hesitated then accepted the pouch.

Amira tilted her head to the side then took Kaylee's hand. Kaylee shivered as a streak of energy like Nathan's went through her.

"Oh," Amira said. "I understand now. Do you know what an OTL is?"

"No, and I'm at my max with this supernatural nonsense," Kaylee said truthfully.

"Okay. Then focus on keeping these safe and learning to use them. They won't work for anyone else, I don't think. I'm keeping the fifth one. If we split them up, no one can use them against us," Amira said.

"Kaylee?" Eddy's voice made her jump. It sounded like he was standing at the back porch.

"Quiet!" Kaylee mouthed to the woman. Aware Amira couldn't hear, she pointed towards the house. "Someone is coming. Wait until I'm in the house to leave."

Amira nodded and pushed the hand holding the pouch closer to Kaylee's body. Kaylee rose quickly and pocketed the bag.

"Coming!" she called.

Amira stayed where she was.

Kaylee grabbed one of the flowerpots behind the shed and took it with her, emerging from the hiding spot.

Eddy relaxed visibly at her appearance. His gaze took in the clay pot briefly.

"Wanted you to meet someone," he said as she approached.

Kaylee set the pot down beside the stairs leading to the back door and followed him inside. She pushed the velvet bag further down into her pocket then clutched the mug with both hands.

Uncertain what kind of person – or creature – Eddy wanted her to meet, she braced herself for the worst and walked into the living room.

The woman at the center of the small space was gorgeous and fit with blue eyes and dark blonde hair. She wore snug leggings and a chunky tunic. Her hair was in a ponytail and her chiseled features flawless.

She was... familiar, though Kaylee didn't know where she might've seen her before. The newcomer had the same wariness and wisdom in her gaze that Nathan and Maggy did.

"This is Zyra," Eddy said. "Zyra, meet Kaylee."

_Zyra. Where do I know that name?_ Kaylee asked herself.

Zyra looked her over critically then offered a tight smile. There was something predatory in her gaze and in the tension of her body, something that made Kaylee think she didn't ever want to be alone with the pretty woman.

"Zyra is..." Eddy trailed off.

"An interested party," Zyra supplied. "Just checking in."

Kaylee debated what to say, uncomfortable around the woman. Eddy had an easygoing air about him that helped her relax, despite his freaky background. Zyra was the opposite. Even if she came to the rescue, Kaylee would have a hard time accepting help from the woman who rubbed her the wrong way.

"Who are you with?" Kaylee asked finally. "I know who Eddy is and Nathan and Maggy. Are you with one of their organizations?"

"Not exactly," Zyra replied. "I'm with somewhat of an independent third party."

Kaylee couldn't fathom what a third party in the bizarre alternate reality would want with her. She didn't feel inclined to ask, either, not with the way Zyra regarded her.

_Like I'm her dinner._

She started thinking of another horror movie then pushed the images away.

"I'll see you out," Eddy said cheerfully to Zyra. His tone was firm enough that Kaylee knew it wasn't a request.

Zyra took the hint and walked with him to the door. They both exited, and Eddy closed the door behind him.

Kaylee watched them, just noticing that one of Eddy's hands was on the hilt of a knife, as if he, too, felt the threat from Zyra. While friendly, he was also alert.

The two talked for a moment. It wasn't enough for Kaylee to figure much else out than Zyra left dissatisfied and Eddy was wary. Only when the glowing taillights of Zyra's car made it down the driveway and disappeared as she turned onto the main road did Eddy drop his hand and walk back into the house.

Kaylee moved away quickly from the window.

"Do me a favor and stay away from any windows from here on out. And stay inside the house," he directed.

"Everything okay?"

"For now. She's a bit... violent is all."

Violent. Suddenly, the vision Shadowman had showed her of what happened to Mike crystalized again in Kaylee's mind.

Zyra was the woman who hired and then killed Mike.

What did that mean? Mike was a mistake, from what Nathan said. Why would the person who murdered Mike be talking to Eddy, who seemed to be playing for a completely different team than Nathan?

"You know she killed my boss, thinking he was the anchor, right?" she asked Eddy, confused.

"Wouldn't put it past her. She's got ice in her veins," Eddy said. He drew the curtains on the picture window. He flipped on all the lights. "Close all the curtains and turn on at least one light in every room."

"You're afraid of her?" Kaylee asked.

"Just being cautious."

"Why did you bring her here then?"

"Don't ask too many questions. It'll give people more of a reason to kill you," he advised.

"Whatever." She moved to the kitchen and did as he said while he went through the rest of the house.

"Lock the back door," he said, ducking his head in.

She did and then listened to him move to the guest bedroom.

Kaylee withdrew the bag with stones and dumped them into her palm. She replaced all but the two-toned one then squeezed it in her fist.

Two images popped into her head: one of the kitchen and one of a shopping mall. She closed her eyes to focus on them better. The two visions became clearer the more she concentrated. She saw the appliances lining the counters and was able to make out which shopping center it was.

Why was Shadowman at a mall?

"What's wrong?" Eddy turned on the lights overhead.

Kaylee opened her eyes and shoved her fist in her pocket to deposit the stone. She turned to face Eddy.

"Nothing," she replied. "I take it gardening or stargazing won't be my new hobby?"

"No." He left the doorway and returned to the living room.

Kaylee trailed, folding her arms across her chest. She was getting tired and more overwhelmed by her evening.

"I think I'll try to get some sleep," she said.

"I'll be here."

"You're entirely too happy about all of this."

Eddy flashed a smile.

Kaylee went to her room and closed the door. It was cool and dark, the low light on the nightstand too soft to bother her. She stretched out on the bed and found herself breathing in the scent of Nathan that lingered the pillow he'd used. She shivered, her desire blooming at his spicy male scent. It relaxed her, though not as much as his touch, and she closed her eyes.

Maybe this time, when she woke, she'd be out of the nightmare.

No sooner did she fall asleep than she heard someone call her name.

"Wake up, sweetheart."

Kaylee jumped at Nathan's quiet voice, certain she was mistaken. She twisted to face him in the low light of her room. Her heart somersaulted at the sight of his muscular form, and her body awoke instantly at his heady scent. She pushed herself up and swung her legs off the bed, standing.

He wore all black, tactical style clothing, and was armed with a gun and a couple of knives at his thighs. His clothes were snug enough to hint at the hard body beneath them, the one she spent hours exploring the day before.

"Nathan," she whispered, gaze darting towards the door. "Eddy's right out there. You shouldn't be here."

His dark gaze was steady, penetrating. Unfriendly even, a look that fit him but that she didn't expect to see. It made her step away even though her body burned for his touch. He was too different from the man who made love to her with tenderness.

This Nathan was detached, distant.

"What're you doing here?" she asked uncertainly.

"I need you to listen to me," he replied. He set down a small bag on the nightstand beside the bed where they'd made love not twenty-four hours before. "Shadowman's wiped out another hundred people today. He's getting stronger, Kaylee."

Her mouth felt dry. "You came to kill me."

"Temporarily." He held up a syringe with clear liquid. "Completely painless. I'll sit right here beside you. I give you the shot, you'll fall asleep, we'll bring you back when he's gone."

It took her a moment to respond. Some part of her had hoped to see him again, just under different circumstances.

"Sounds too easy," she said. "What happens if you're wrong? Or if you can't bring me back?"

"This will work. It's the only way we can get Shadowman to leave you alone and save lives."

His confidence floored her. He'd protected her and made love to her like a man who cared. That he, too, was moved to killing her made her feel ill.

"Trust me. Please," Nathan said, warmth appearing in his gaze. "You can give yourself the shot, if you want."

_I don't want to die._ How horrible of a person was she, if she saved her own life instead of those the Shadowman was taking?

"It won't hurt?" she ventured.

"Nope." Nathan held her gaze. "You'll go to sleep. When you wake up, it'll all be over."

She suspected she was getting the damn shot one way or another. While thrilling, the idea of him chasing her down was not ideal.

"I'll be right here," he added. "If you want."

She gave him a long look, unable to interpret what he meant by the measured words. Was he interested or not?

Did it matter, since he was there to kill her?

Kaylee swallowed hard and moved towards him.

He sat on the bed and patted the place beside him then reached back to grab the small bag. She sat close enough to smell but not touch him. Her body ached for his, to feel his hot skin against hers and consuming passion ensnaring her senses. She didn't trust herself enough to touch him, though, not after the events of the past day. Her guard had dropped hard under his kisses, and she still wasn't certain how to handle the feeling of vulnerability he'd caused. It left her confused. How did she trust him when he came to kill her?

How did she not, when she'd already given him every part of herself in bed?

"This is what you do for a living?" she asked in the tense silence. She watched him withdraw a syringe of clear liquid.

Nathan grasped her arm with his strong fingers. He maneuvered it to rest on his thigh. He was hot again, radiating heat.

"Every case is different," he replied. "But yeah. Supernatural caseworker."

"Do you sleep with every _case_ you work with before or after killing them?" she snapped, furious at his casual response.

He chuckled. "Usually the people I kill stay dead."

"You're not helping anything, Nathan."

"We're both on new territory here," he said, glancing up.

Kaylee's face grew warm under his direct gaze. She looked down, not liking how he seemed to devalue the time they had together. It meant nothing to him, but she was forced to admit, it did to her.

"Let's get this over with so you can move onto the next case," she said.

Nathan was still for a moment.

_Say something! Tell me I'm not just another name on the list!_ She willed him silently.

"See you when you wake up," he replied and took her arm.

Kaylee closed her eyes, not wanting to see the shot that killed her.

"It'll sting a little," Nathan warned.

She said nothing, throat tightening. It was hard enough to will herself not to cry knowing she was operating on blind faith in trusting him.

The familiar sting of a shot came. Beyond that, she felt nothing. She waited until Nathan had withdrawn the needle before opening her eyes. He put the syringe aside then placed a band-aid over the small bubble of blood.

"You're killing me. Don't think you need to worry about a little blood," she told him.

"You don't believe I'll bring you back."

"I don't think you have any reason to. You want Shadowman dead and consider me a case to be resolved before you move on," she pointed out. "If I wasn't such a coward, I would try to off myself to get rid of him."

"You're the bravest person I know," he replied. "If I had no intentions of bringing you back, I wouldn't be using a needle."

She didn't want to admit he was probably right. By the way he was built and the weapons he carried, he could easily just beat her to death or stab her or shoot her dead.

"Lay down. This is supposed to take affect within three minutes," he said. He stood, moving out of her way.

She evaluated herself mentally as she lay down, waiting to feel something. Pain. Sleepiness. Anything that indicated the drug was working. If it was, she didn't notice it.

She stretched out on her back and stared at the ceiling. As long as she focused on her breathing, she wasn't going to cry or panic.

Nathan sat at the edge of the bed, hand on her thigh and eyes on her face. Kaylee didn't look at him, too angry and confused to know what she felt towards the man who seemed far too calm about killing her to care.

"Five minutes," he said, glancing down at his watch. "How you feeling?"

Kaylee focused inward for any sign the drug was working. "Um, normal. You said it was fast acting." She lifted her arms to double-check. "I don't feel any different."

"Interesting." He stood and went to the drugs then held up the second syringe. "One sec. Let me check something."

She twisted to gaze at him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, the same way he had when he read her memories.

Kaylee sat up, testing herself. "I feel fine, Nathan."

Nathan shifted. His eyes opened, and he stared at the syringe in his hand.

"Fuck," he muttered then dropped it into the bag. He took a deep breath. "Bad news, Kaylee."

She was on her feet before he finished.

"Someone swapped these out with regular old saline," he said, facing her.

Kaylee saw his hand drop to the knife at his thigh. He tapped it long enough for her to realize he hadn't stopped thinking of taking her life, even if the drug was no longer an option.

A painless, quick death was one thing. Being stabbed was quite another.

"Okay. You can go get more, right?" she asked. She eased away from him towards the door, her ability to control her panic slipping.

"Let's talk this out, okay?" he said and took a step towards her. "There are alternatives."

"You said if you had no intention of bringing me back, you'd use said alternatives."

"It was a shitty attempt at a joke."

"What do you recommend?" she snapped.

"The less damage I do to you physically, the better my chances of bringing you back." He drew a knife and lifted it. "I can do this. Simple, quick, little damage."

"Painless wasn't among those words."

"It'll hurt. But I'll make it quick," he said.

_Oh, god!_ Kaylee whirled and darted for the door. She wrenched it open a few inches, only for Nathan to plant a hand above her head and slam it shut.

She didn't move, didn't breath, waiting for the pain to hit.

Nathan's breathing was irregular, indicating he wasn't as calm as he appeared to be. His body at her back radiated heat.

"Kaylee..." he started then stopped. He placed a hand on her arm, letting it skim down to her wrist before it slid to her stomach and lower, hovering over the sacred apex of her thighs. Need flared to life, filling her lower body with heat.

When he didn't stab her, she turned to face him and pressed her back to the door. For the first time since meeting her, Nathan appeared torn. The hand at the small of her back drew her hips against his, letting her feel the long length of his arousal against her belly.

The ache she experienced was so quick and deep, she gasped. She needed him too much. The connection between them couldn't be normal. The space between them was charged, her senses aware of every part of him, from the movement of his chest as he breathed to the combined scent of him and the gear he wore.

He touched her cheek, brushing away tears she didn't feel fall. The knife was sheathed. The soft lamplight dispelled shadows from half his face while deepening the natural shading of his chiseled features on the other side.

He appeared to be studying her features, as if to memorize them for after she was dead.

"Say something, Nathan," she whispered hoarsely. "Tell me you don't want to do this. Tell me I'll survive. Tell me... I'm not just a case. Anything."

He offered a faint smile and cupped one cheek. His dark eyes seemed fathomless, the curve of his full lips begging for kisses. She remembered too clearly what he'd done with his mouth, how his hot kisses robbed her of any shred of second-thought when they'd made love for hours. The feel of his hands roaming her body, the way he regarded at her, possessive and tender at the same time. She'd felt both more vulnerable and more secure in his arms than she had anywhere else.

By the intensity of the look on his face and the hard ridge pressed to her belly, he was thinking the same.

"We need to get through this," he said finally.

Her hope – and heart – crumbled.

"You can't say it, can you?" she whispered. "Because it's not true, or because you're scared?"

With effort, Nathan moved away from her.

"Say something, Nathan!" she cried, embarrassed by the raw note in her voice.

"Please. Let's just..." he paced, rubbing his face with both hands. "We'll talk later. I need to show you something." He nudged her out of the way and opened the door, breezing by her.

She gasped, waiting for Eddy to pounce.

"He's not here. We have him occupied elsewhere," Nathan said. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried."

"You're the one who wants me dead!"

The mirth faded from his eyes. "Not _want_ , Kaylee. There's more at stake here than us." He turned abruptly and walked down the hallway.

"Thank god there is no _us_ or someone might get hurt," she retorted before she could stop the words.

"Exactly."

It wasn't possible for there to be a relationship with a man like Nathan. He was too... selfish to understand the feelings of another, too guarded to express himself.

Too perfect for her to walk away.

_Maybe it's a good thing he wants to kill me. Might be better than a broken heart._ More tears formed. She swiped them away angrily but followed him down the hallway and through the living room.

_Some protector._ Eddy was nowhere to be found.

Kaylee stepped into the chilly night, not caring that she had no jacket. She was supposed to be dead, after all. She expected Nathan to stop and show her whatever it was he wanted her to see. Instead, he got into the car and started it, waiting.

Reluctantly, she climbed into the passenger side.

Nathan said nothing as he pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road. He headed towards the way opposite of town, north towards Columbia. Kaylee watched the trees and lights fly by, unable to shake the sense that her danger was not yet over. He turned off the main road onto a gravel street that meandered into the forest.

"This is the part where the bad guy takes the poor, helpless victim back to the forest and kills her where no one can hear her scream. It's the plot of half the horror movies I've seen," she murmured.

"A little trust, honey."

"We've never had the benefit of trust, Nathan." She sighed, struggling with her emotions and more not to show just how devastated she was.

The winding road took them up a small hill, and Nathan pulled over to a scenic overlook to the side. She glanced at him.

"I don't think you brought me here to make out," she said, puzzled.

"Another time," he agreed. "I brought you here so you could make a choice." He turned off the car.

Silence and darkness filled the car. Kaylee clenched her hands together, afraid of what he'd say.

Nathan got out of the car. After a deep breath, Kaylee did as well, joining him at the railing. Their southern view was of the towns of Crofton and Bowie, great swaths of dark forest punctuated by bright clumps of light.

"Shadowman's power is growing," Nathan started. "He swallowed your office building the other day. He swallowed a mall today. Tomorrow, he could be strong enough to take out half a city."

She listened, horrified.

"He's invincible in every way, except for one." He faced her and shifted closer. "The fact I'm even considering keeping you alive should mean something to you."

"I don't know you, Nathan," she said softly. "You don't exactly make it easy to understand you. Not that it matters. You've made up your mind."

"I haven't. I brought you here to see what Shadowman is doing. If you choose not to trust me, I'll let you walk away. If you choose to trust me, I swear to you, Kaylee, I will bring you back."

She looked away, uncertain what to think at the hushed note in his voice. Her gaze went out over the valley. Movement caught her attention. At first, she though it was smoke. Something darker than night was moving over the south side of the city of Crofton.

"It's him, isn't it?" she asked, striding towards the railing. "What's he doing?"

"Probably looking for you. The trunk of my car is filled with moonstones. He can't sense you. Our distraction wouldn't have occupied him for long, so I imagine he realizes it was a ruse and is trying to find you."

"This will never end, will it?"

"Either he wins or I do."

Kaylee shuddered, recalling what Shadowman did the last time he unleashed the shadow. He created a sinkhole that swallowed everything. The black fog was creeping into Crofton, blotting out lights as it went.

She was silent for a long moment. She didn't realize she was shaking from a combination of fear and cold until Nathan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his body. For once, she didn't resist his heated strength, taking comfort in it.

"What are you thinking?" Nathan asked gently.

"Aside from I wish I'd never met you?" she replied with no heat. "I'm scared. No, terrified. I keep thinking I've wasted my life, doing what my father wanted, because I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. Afraid to disappoint him or my instructors or anyone, afraid they wouldn't like me if I were myself. If this is it, then I lived a fucking miserable life."

"Your fucking miserable life led you straight to me. Can't be that bad," Nathan said.

"If you weren't about to kill me, I might agree."

"This doesn't have to be it. We get through this and then figure out what comes next."

The words were careful and considering, as if he was more concerned with her following through than telling her the truth that he wasn't interested.

She couldn't read him, and it was too late to try. If she went through this, it was her choice, knowing he probably wasn't going to be there when she woke.

Kaylee twisted in his arms and gazed up at him. "Okay. I'll do it."

Nathan didn't react immediately. His look was penetrating, the tension of his frame making him stiffen.

"You'll trust me?" he whispered.

"No. But I'll do what's right."

"I guess that's good enough." One hand dropped from her to the knife at his thigh.

Kaylee's pulse accelerated, and she panicked, grabbing his wrist. His other arm tightened around her. She shook like a leaf pinned to a picnic table and struggled for some sort of control over her emotions. Her breathing was harsh and quick, her senses filled by Nathan but not comforted by him, not this time.

He loosened his grip around her briefly, long enough to tilt up her chin. Kaylee couldn't see his eyes in the dark night but wished she could. She expected him to speak.

Instead, he kissed her, replacing his arm around her and pulling her against him hard. His mouth was commanding, the kiss deep and desperate, as if he knew it was their last. She tasted him once more, enthralled by his faint flavor and the heat of his mouth, the velvet of his tongue.

It was not the kiss of a man who regarded her as a job and nothing more.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her grip on his wrist loosened. She lifted her hands to take his face and deepen the kiss even more. Nathan's passion left her breathless and dizzy from need, his scent and taste intoxicating her.

His hold on her stiffened seconds before the hot agony hit her. It came from her lower ribcage.

Kaylee gasped, breaking off the kiss. She clutched at him. Almost immediately, darkness blocked her vision.

"Don't fight it, sweetheart," he whispered. "I'll be there when you wake up."

# Twenty

Amira watched from the trees. She covered her face as the woman sank to the ground. The look on Nathan's face was raw, his emotion clear.

He loved the woman he'd just stabbed.

Amira stifled her tears, wanting more than anything to spare them both the pain they had to be feeling. Nathan was a myth among angels and spirit guides, untouchable, unstoppable and willing to do whatever it took to do his job.

Like murder his OTL in cold blood.

She was proud of him yet horrified as well. He'd just made the most personal sacrifice of all. Would it break him, the way losing someone had broken Troy?

Turning away, she struggled to center herself, to push away all she'd learned the past few weeks. She'd followed Nathan here, wanting to talk to him but also wanting to make sure Kaylee was safe after the visit from Zyra.

The past few weeks were overwhelming, if she let herself dwell on all that occurred, nothing but a series of events that only seemed to get worse. They weighed on her heart, and she grappled with her emotions. She wanted to experience what it was like to be a human, to live in a world of contradictions. If she had known about the depths of sorrow and anger she'd gone through the past few weeks, would she have done it still?

Amira wanted to curl up at the base of the tree and sob, as much for Nathan as herself.

Right now, he needed support. She couldn't imagine he was going to make it through this well. She had to save him. And Troy. And herself.

Wiping her tears, Amira stood and started out of the trees. She froze a few feet from the tree line. Unable to hear the new cars approach, she barely registered that two of them were there before it was too late to stop. They pulled in beside Nathan's, blocking him from view. Nathan was carefully placing Kaylee in the backseat of his car.

A man got out of one vehicle and smashed a tire iron across Nathan's head as he emerged from the backseat.

Nathan dropped hard.

The man motioned to someone in the car, and a familiar woman got out. Zyra drew a weapon and aimed it down at Nathan.

A flash of light and the scent of sulfur reached Amira, indicating a shot she couldn't hear had gone off.

She sank into the darkness of the trees, praying for Nathan. Zyra tucked the gun away and leaned into the backseat where Nathan had been, no doubt checking on Kaylee. A flash of light came from the car. It wasn't a muzzle flash this time, but a burst of light that faded slowly, lingered, then died.

Zyra was sucking in a huge amount of energy from the Other Side and those with her. Amira felt the flow around her. Instinctively, she recognized that Zyra was trying to bring the host back.

What did Zyra want with Kaylee, if not to kill her and send Shadowman to Hell?

Zyra stood and wobbled, catching herself against the car.

Light blinded Amira as more cars approached. The scene before her quickly became chaos. Gunfire flashed from the direction of the newcomers towards Zyra's group, and the two factions opened fire on one another. A form darted discreetly from one of the newly arrived cars towards Nathan's.

Amira hid behind a tree, peeking around to see what happened.

Moonlight glinted off the knives and necklace of the man creeping up to Nathan's car. He was a blond man with black-tipped hair. He slid into the driver's seat, unnoticed by Zyra's party. He started the car and floored it, spewing rocks and gravel as he fishtailed out of the overlook area and down the hill towards the main road.

His people followed, laying gunfire behind them as they went.

Zyra was standing in the middle of light from the headlamps of one of her cars, yelling, her face flushed. She signaled her people towards the cars, and they, too, raced off after the man who had the host's body.

Amira watched them all go. When the dust cleared, one body remained on the ground. How Nathan hadn't been run over or shot more than once, Amira didn't know, except that he truly was blessed.

She ventured away from the trees slowly at first, gaze darting around for signs of trouble, then darted forward.

"Nathan!" she cried, dropping beside him.

There was blood everywhere. Though she knew spirit guides were immortal, she panicked anyway, recalling that the same woman who shot Nathan had somehow been able to kill Scott, too.

Amira placed her hands over the wound in Nathan's chest, trying to remember what she'd seen on a crime TV show about helping someone who got shot.

Nathan's body was radiating heat hotter than Troy's, a sign the energy from the Other Side was working to heal him. She added in her own energy, knowing it was nothing compared to what it had been before, but hoping she could help.

"Wake up, Nathan!" she told him. Tears blurred her eyes at the feel of his warm blood flowing through her fingers.

Someone grabbed her, startling her. Amira started to struggle. He was much stronger than her spun her around easily.

"Troy!" she exclaimed, at once relieved.

Troy looked pissed. "Why the fuck did you leave me there?" The grip on her arms was tight.

"Nathan's hurt."

"He can heal. Just leave him alone. What're you doing here, Amira?"

She didn't know what to say, rattled by the evening and mesmerized by his anger. It was born as much of concern as anything else, and she wanted to know if it was solely for Nathan or if her OTL had begun to realize he belonged with her.

"Are you okay?" Troy's features softened.

She nodded then held up her hands. They were covered in dark blood, the sight of which distressed her.

"Scott didn't heal, Troy," she said, near tears. "Will Nathan?"

"Yes. He's too stubborn to die."

After a brief hesitation, Troy wrapped her in his arms. His warmth and masculine scent helped calm her, and she hugged him back, loving the feel of his body against hers.

"Troy, they took her," she said into his shirt.

He shifted one arm to lift her chin once more. He touched her face gently, brushing the tears from under her eyes.

"Who took who?" he asked.

She swallowed hard. "The host. Nathan killed her." Her eyes watered more as she remembered the look of utter desolation that crossed Nathan's face. "Zyra shot him then tried to take her, but someone else beat them to it. There was a firefight and then they all left."

"Amira, you don't run off like that again," Troy said, his features serious. "You understand? You're mine to protect."

Like the stones were hers to protect.

She gasped suddenly, aware the stones she'd given Kaylee had fallen into the hands of someone else completely, someone she couldn't identify.

"What?" he asked.

Who had the host and the stones? Amira didn't answer, unable to fathom the depths of how badly she'd screwed up. Even if the people had the stones, they wouldn't be able to read them, and she kept the one that would lead to the gateway. She hadn't been able to use the blue stones anyway – but Kaylee could.

Logically, she knew the stones belonged with Kaylee, but terror fluttered through her at the thought of anyone finding the other girls before she could warn them.

# Twenty-One

Nathan tore himself out of sleep as soon as he became aware of the sensations around him: quiet talking, chilly breeze, and the hard ground beneath him. He sat up with a groan, hand going to the tender spot at the back of his head. Resisting the urge to shake his head and free his mind of cobwebs, he blinked until he could at least see straight then took in the scene around him.

He was at the overlook still, on the ground, with someone kneeling beside him while a few other figures huddled near the railing.

"You feeling all right?" Troy said, offering a hand to pull him up.

"Good enough," Nathan grunted. He accepted the help and stood, finding his footing. "What the hell happened?" As he spoke, he looked around for the car.

It was gone, along with Kaylee.

"Where is she?" he demanded. A sudden surge of concern and adrenaline helped his head clear. "If you're here, why is my rental gone? Did you get here in time?"

"I think we have a problem," Troy said.

Two voices near the railing rose in agitation. They were both female, and a closer look revealed Zyra and Maggy in heated discussion. Zyra threw up a hand and spun, stalking towards a waiting car, while Maggy stared after her.

"That's not good," Troy said. "I guess Zyra's people put you down with the intention of stealing your girl, but they got their asses kicked by someone else. I'm guessing Eddy. Amira saw it all. Said they were after the host."

"She's alive?"

"No one knows."

"Who shot me?" While a little weakened, he was fully healed. He was able to feel the drain on his energy level, though. It wasn't keeping him warm the way it usually did on a chilly night.

Troy glanced towards Zyra. "She's got a lot of nerve showing up here after putting a bullet in your chest."

"She's desperate. It's a good sign." Nathan glared after Zyra's car, wishing he'd thought to take Kaylee somewhere only Maggy could access. He'd wanted her to have a choice, though, and showing her what Shadowman was about to do next was the best way to convince her.

What if he'd legitimately killed her? He began to think he'd made two mistakes in his life. The first, marrying Zyra. The second, killing Kaylee. They just happened to be the only two things in his life that ever mattered to him. Emotions were threatening to emerge, feelings he struggled to control.

"If they took her, I'm thinking Shadowman is still around," Nathan muttered. "Maggy!"

"God, Nathan, tell me you killed her," Maggy snapped in frustration. She approached, her aura colors all over the place.

"I did." He bit back his instinctive response and the panic in his gut to answer calmly. "How long before you got here?"

"Too late. Troy beat us both here, and it looks like Eddy is the one who outsmarted everyone."

"Never thought I'd say this, but thank god for Eddy," Nathan said.

Maggy stared at him for a long moment. "You really like this girl. I wonder if it's affecting your judgment!"

"Still killed her, didn't I?" he replied. "Someone swapped out the poison for saline. I used a knife."

Maggy's eyes widened.

"You are one cold-hearted bastard," Troy remarked, approval in his tone. "I don't think I could do that."

"I didn't have a choice," Nathan said. He began to wonder if he'd fucked up worse than ever before. It was one thing to try the risky plan to get rid of Shadowman, another to place her welfare in the hands of Eddy. "We need to find Eddy."

"We gotta beat Zyra to him. She's obsessed."

"Or she wants to redeem herself," Nathan replied. "They were the ones who killed Mike, not knowing he wasn't the anchor."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. So we know they're serious and willing to kill whoever it takes."

Maggy was quiet for a moment. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Nathan, but I still don't think they're wrong about this one. Taking an innocent life, yeah, that's bad. But they're trying to prevent a portal to Hell being opened."

_A week ago, I would've agreed._ Nathan touched the back of his head and flinched. He had a booming headache, and his blood was racing, adding to the pounding. He found himself clenching and releasing his fists, needing to know if Kaylee was alive. Worse, what if they waited too long to revive her, and her mind and body were irreparably damaged?

"You've got insight on where to find them?" he asked Maggy.

"We're looking. I sent out an emergency request for assistance to every guide on the eastern seaboard." She glanced down at her phone. "We know about where they hang out in this area, but I doubt Eddy will be stupid enough to risk going anywhere we know about."

Nathan wanted to stab something or run a marathon – anything to alleviate the fear charging through his system. He recalled too clearly how Kaylee's warm blood ran down his hand and wrist. He'd felt regret stronger than any other emotion in his life when he heard her heart slow then stop. He should've said the words – any words – to let her know he cared.

He hadn't. He didn't even know if he was capable of voicing such a private emotion, not after all the years he spent burying his feelings in order to survive the job.

_You don't exactly make it easy to understand you._

He never thought he wanted anyone to try to understand him before Kaylee.

"Wake up." Maggy snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Let's get out of here. We gotta figure out how to track them."

"Well," Troy said slowly. "I might be able to help."

"You sober?" Maggy asked, ignoring him.

"More or less."

Nathan snorted. "How?"

"Amira. She knows a little more than she let on."

"Where is she?" Nathan glanced towards the two parked vehicles. One was clearly Troy's F350 while the other was a car.

"In the truck." By the irritated look Troy cast in the direction of his vehicle, he wasn't pleased.

"You know Shadowman is looking for her, and you still brought her with you?" Maggy asked.

"It wasn't exactly the plan," Troy said nonchalantly. "She's fine."

"Let's go." Nathan started towards the truck. "Mags, you wanna head to town to see what you can uncover and I'll go with Troy?"

"Yeah."

Nathan didn't let himself dwell on her insistence that Zyra was right. He climbed into Troy's truck and twisted to see Amira in the dim light.

She was shaking, and he smelled blood.

"Nathan," she said in a forlorn voice. She leaned forward and hugged him, almost dragging him out of his seat.

He chuckled and squeezed her back.

"What is it with you and chicks?" Troy complained, hopping in and closing his door. "Don't get blood on my seats." He reached under his bucket seat to grab a rag and tossed it on Nathan's lap.

Nathan released Amira, resting his forehead against hers as they exchanged energy. This time, she pushed warmth into him, sensing he needed it.

He withdrew from her and took the rag. "This isn't gonna help." He said with a quick glance down at himself. He handed it to Amira instead.

She sat back and Nathan looked out the window. There were two bloodstains lit up by Troy's headlights. The larger one was his, the smaller that of Kaylee.

Exhausted but wired with worry, he leaned forward and gripped his head in his hands.

"I'm in a car with two people who have more secrets than me," Troy said casually. "I have a feeling you're going to talk first, for once."

"Yeah," Nathan replied. He could still almost feel her body in his arms, smell her scent. "I can't detach this time. I need to find her."

"Something tells me Amira can help. She let me in on one of her secrets, but I know she's got more. You ever get that feeling?"

Nathan snorted, gaze going to the trees whipping by his window.

"Nathan, did you tell Troy that the host is your OTL?" Amira asked from the back seat.

"Your _what?"_ Troy asked, slamming on the brakes a little too fast as they reached the bottom of the hill.

"Dammit, Amira," Nathan muttered. "I was hoping no one picked up on that." He twisted to look at Amira.

She smiled.

"You have a predestined OTL?" Troy shook his head.

"Why the fuck is that so hard to believe?" Nathan snapped.

"For one, you're the most Scorpio-ist Scorpio I've ever met. Two, you're an asshole and a whore. Three... really? No offense, Nate, but who in the universe would you be able to put up with long term? You never commit to any girl."

"Obviously no one. I killed her, didn't I?"

Troy's shock turned to consideration. "Then again, the problem is you, not the girls you date. If you somehow changed, I could maybe see it. I always hated the term OTL. It's definitely an angel thing."

"And you're my best friend?" Nathan rubbed his face hard, not caring if he smeared blood everywhere. "I can't think not knowing if she's alive or not."

"She's alive."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Zyra is pissed."

"Troy, we have to tell Nathan about the archdemon," Amira chimed in. Unable to hear them talk, she was spilling secrets right and left, without knowing how stressed out Nathan already was. "Do you have any sparkles, Nathan?"

He shook his head at her then addressed Troy.

"I can't believe that. I can almost believe a fallen guardian now, but an archdemon? They were just myths. I can even believe Zyra shot me after professing her love for me yesterday."

"There isn't a woman out there who wouldn't fuck you or shoot you if she could," Troy replied. "We couldn't figure out why Shadowman was connected to... what's your girl's name?"

"Kaylee."

"We couldn't figure out why he was attached to her. Shadowman is too smart for a normal demon."

"I noticed that," Nathan said. "He's strong and getting stronger fast. Or was getting stronger, before..." He shook his head, frustrated trying to focus with the memory of Kaylee dying in his arms saturating his senses. "Okay. I believe it. He's sentient. He can't be a normal demon."

"Exactly. We heard rumors they existed and now we know they do. So what kind of human would be a compatible host for an archdemon to attach itself to?"

"Someone of equal standing?" Nathan thought for a moment. "Only an archangel incarnated." His heart dropped. "I swear to god, I'm going to kill Pedro. He sets me up with an archangel, knowing I can hardly stand most angels? Seriously?"

"Well, there's never been one before. If anything, I'd say it's a good thing."

"If I didn't sense that, then she must be in generation ten million or something. There's no way I wouldn't notice a first gen archangel." Nathan never thought his situation could get any worse. After three thousand years of thinking he'd seen it all, Pedro threw him for a loop he never expected.

"I wouldn't put it past Pedro to have helped disguise her."

"We need chicken nuggets, Troy," Amira said, sounding distraught.

"I'm thinking a bottle of whiskey instead," Nathan muttered, facing the girl.

Amira was gazing out the window. Something was clenched in her hand.

When he turned, she met his gaze.

"Who has the host?" she asked.

"Satanists," he answered.

Her eyes widened a moment before the first gen angel burst into tears.

"What the hell?" Troy glanced back. "I see the red rock in her hand. So they can't find the portal to Hell."

"That's how they do it?" Nathan's gaze rested on her closed fist. "Amira." He tapped her leg.

She refused to look at him, instead twisting to bury her face in the back of the seat.

"What am I missing?" Nathan demanded of Troy. "Are nuggets that important?"

"Like I said. She's hiding something, and I think whatever it is, she's about to crack and tell us what."

"Because something went horribly wrong," Nathan guessed. "I can't stand it when they cry."

Amira's sobs were heart wrenching, like only a truly innocent soul could procure. Distressed enough with his own mess, Nathan couldn't handle her crying her heart out.

He unfastened his safety belt and crawled in back with her. Amira wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her close. Her slender body shook with emotion. He didn't try to talk to her, needing a hug himself, but rested his head back against the seat and held her.

His energy flowed into her, calming her some. Troy went through the drive-thru of McDonald's for her nuggets, and she settled down even more. Clinging to him, Amira took the bag Troy passed back to her.

"I have an OTL, too, Nathan," she said. "Nugget?"

He took one, more because he didn't know what to do with his anxious energy than because he was actually hungry. He wanted to ask about her soul agreement but knew she couldn't read his lips in the dark of the cab. Instead, he did what he often did and closed his eyes, syncing himself with the energy from the Other Side that constantly flowed around him. It connected him to Amira in a way few guides could do, and he was able to read who her OTL was.

He smiled then laughed.

Sensing his energy intertwined with hers, Amira giggled.

"What?" Troy asked. "What're you doing, Nate?"

"Nothing." Nathan released the energy and popped the nugget in his mouth. "You think you'll ever settle down, Troy?"

"God help me, no. Haven't given up on quitting and ending up dead in a ditch."

"Someone's gotta take care of Amira."

Troy was quiet, and Nathan sensed that some part of Troy liked Amira enough to stick around instead of trying to get himself killed.

It would have to be enough for now. Troy would take some work. The only rule Nathan followed was preventing a first gen and a spirit guide from getting together.

But this wasn't a normal first gen, and Troy needed someone who could help him see the good in life again. Sweet, gentle and smart, Amira was the person Pedro chose to give Troy life and hope again.

So what did it mean that Pedro assigned _him_ an incarnated archangel? Was it a reward?

Or a sign that life was about to go to shit?

"That son of a bitch," Nathan growled. "You think it's because of my rating?"

"I don't think Pedro gives a shit about ratings. I think that's something the guides started that Pedro adopted to try to be more like a human boss. I'd say you probably earned being saddled with an archangel. I mean, you're... _you._ The strongest guide in history. Maybe ever. Why not give you a challenge only you can handle?"

"Yeah, true. I am the best. Normally, that's enough. It's no consolation now, though."

Troy snorted. He pulled into his driveway and parked out front.

Nathan untangled himself from Amira, who had wolfed down her nuggets and started to doze, comforted by his heat. She woke and climbed out of one side of the truck while he got out on his side.

Troy led them into the house and the kitchen, where he set down another McDonald's bag.

Amira reached for it, face tight and features pale.

He crossed his arms and glared down at her. She clutched the bag in her hand but held his gaze.

"Talk," he ordered.

Her shoulders sagged, and tears filled her eyes. "The host has the stones. She can find the others. So can the Satanists that have her. I ruined everything!" She turned to leave.

Troy caught her arm and perched on the counter, pulling her back to his large frame.

Nathan leaned against the doorway and watched, darkly amused to know his unsuspecting best friend was dealing with the woman destined to be his OTL.

"I know about the red stone. You're saying there are more?" Troy asked.

Amira nodded.

"How many?"

She hesitated, and Troy absently wiped the tears from her face with the back of an index finger then drew her closer to his body.

Nathan smiled.

"Four," she said in a voice so faint and tight, Nathan barely heard it.

Troy smoothed her hair from her face and tilted her chin up, so she didn't lose focus.

"What do they do?" he asked.

"They locate... the others." Her voice trembled.

Nathan moved closer, sensing she was about to tell him what Pedro wouldn't.

"Three of us hold keys to open portals to Hell, where different demons will come out." She dug into her pocket to pull out the red stone. "But it's not just this. It's us, too. We were chosen, and I think we're meant to prevent the demons from coming, but I don't know how. The stones tell me where the others are. They were dormant until a couple of months ago, and then they started to communicate with me. I didn't understand why, until the fourth one came alive. It's... Shadowman's. And his host's. They share a stone. The stones were warning me. Scott helped me figure it out but that woman killed him."

"What woman?" Troy asked.

"The one Maggy was arguing with."

Nathan's senses sharpened. "Zyra?" His mind began to race even more at the revelation. "She killed Scott and Mike, chased down Kaylee to try to steal her body, probably shot me, blew up an office building and killed a fellow spirit guide to try to get to Amira. Anyone else thinking she's the bitch of the year?"

Amira took a few deep breaths before continuing.

"Only those connected to the stones can read them. I took them to her, because there are two I can't understand but she could and I thought if she knew who Shadowman was trying hurt, she could protect them. I didn't think... I didn't know..." she began crying again and leaned into Troy.

His arms went around her, and he pulled her into his body, his gaze on Nathan.

"So we're missing your woman and four stones," Troy summarized. "Thank god they're all together. Unfortunately, they're also in the worst place possible."

Nathan nodded, his instincts wiggling. Amira's words filled in many of the missing pieces, but there was still something... off.

"Was Zyra after the stones or Kaylee?" he mused aloud, unable to connect the dots between what Zyra was claiming to do and who she was targeting.

"How would she even know about the stones? If only four people can read them, and Pedro ain't sharing any information on what's going on, how did she find out?"

"I don't know," Nathan said, pacing. "Her role in this doesn't make sense, but she seems to be the only one who knows what's going on. I don't know how."

Troy rubbed Amira's back, thoughtful. "We need an inside guy."

"We need to find Kaylee." Nathan's gut sank.

"Like I said, inside guy. Zyra's gonna make Kaylee and anyone else she wants disappear. We won't know what's going to happen until it's too late." By Troy's look, he had already nominated Nathan for the job.

"Yeah. She was pissed after losing Kaylee. If she's off guard, now is the time to plant someone," Nathan agreed softly. Fury started through him, but he suppressed it. The only way to get to his OTL was to ostensibly betray her and return to Zyra. It infuriated him, but it was a small price to pay, if it saved Kaylee.

_If_. He had no idea if she was alive.

"I always do whatever it takes," he added. _Why does this feel so different?_ The idea of siding with Zyra angered him, but not as much as the thought of losing Kaylee permanently. "I'll let Mags know."

Nathan turned away to leave the kitchen.

"Wait!" Amira cried. She pulled away from Troy. "I have to tell you something else." She drew a deep breath. "The portals will let the archdemons free."

Nathan nodded.

Amira looked from him to Troy, as if waiting for one of them to speak.

"Archdemons," she repeated.

"Myths," Troy said what Nathan was thinking. "So they're stronger demons. Big deal."

"You don't understand," she replied. "There are only four. Death, War, Pestilence, Famine. Shadowman will become Death when he is strong enough, and I think Kaylee is supposed to help me stop him from bringing back the others."

"Holy shit!" Nathan exclaimed more surprised to realize this wasn't the first time he'd heard this. The conversation with Pedro flickered through his mind, where he'd asked Pedro what came through the portal, if opened.

_Death._

The tricky bastard had revealed a secret in mid-conversation, only Nathan had missed it.

Troy went pale, staring at her, while Nathan's mind raced.

Amira shrank back from both of them, looking between the two. Nathan crossed to them and stood beside Troy.

"That's what you've been hiding?" he demanded.

She nodded.

"It's just the end of the world, Nate. No big deal," Troy said.

"You've known all along?"

Another nod. "It's been a secret since Creation. I couldn't tell... maybe I shouldn't tell you now. I don't know what else to do."

_She's a first gen in over her head._ Nathan repeated this to himself over and over until his control began to return. He had the urge to run, kill, scream... he didn't even know. The pain of losing Kaylee was only amplified by the emotional mess Amira's words created. He didn't like the feeling of not being in control, of not being able to fix something and being emotionally compromised.

Troy had moved away and was pacing, gripping his head.

Of the two of them, Nathan knew he'd recover first.

Amira's eyes were wide. She looked scared.

"Okay." Nathan blew out a deep breath. "We can handle this."

"Are you fucking nuts?" Troy snarled. "Where the fuck are my knives? Nathan, just stab me. Get this over with."

"I'm not going to stab you," Nathan said impatiently. "Go outside and get some air. We need to talk this out."

Troy obeyed wordlessly. He slammed the back door open and marched out.

Amira's gaze followed him.

"Amira." Nathan took her arm. "Any more secrets?"

"N...no."

"You sure? That last one was pretty serious."

She shook her head.

"You need a hug?"

She slid her arms around him in response, a reminder that she was still an innocent, lost first gen, even if she'd just blown his mind with her secrets.

Nathan's shock wore off, and he began to understand why Zyra was after the stones. Somehow, she had to know about the four archdemons of the Apocalypse. He didn't know how, but if she uncovered that much, she probably had some insight into where to look next for Kaylee or one of the other two girls like Amira.

_I never should've killed Kaylee._

He didn't like the guilt that made him regret a choice he'd made. How long had he been able to keep the wall between him and the world in place?

And now it was crumbling, like Kaylee had in his arms.

Amira calmed, and Nathan released her. Troy returned from the backyard, closing the door with more control than he showed going out.

"So. I guess this all is going to prevent me from trying to kill myself again," Troy said. "Are you thinking what I am, Nate? That Zyra knows this somehow?"

"Yeah. No idea what her intentions are, though. She's done too much for me to feel comfortable saying she's on our side."

"Agreed. If you go into the lion's lair, I'll help Amira protect the whereabouts of the next archdemon waiting to get out. We'll work on tracking down the other two girls, too. Maybe if we all work as a team, we can figure out how to beat Shadowman at his own game ahead of Zyra."

"Sorry, Troy," Nathan said drily. "Maybe you'll find something worth living for again."

Troy glanced at Amira then away quickly, as if he, too, sensed where his life was headed. He was hard to read, though, and Nathan was too mentally wired to try.

"I've gotta call Mags. We'll need all the help we can get," Nathan said reluctantly. "Then find Zyra."

He left the kitchen, jonesing for a cigar and a bottle of whiskey to calm his thoughts and body. The day started with a plan to kill the woman he was falling for and ended with the discovery that they had to save the world.

He stepped out the front door, loving how the chilly fall night turned his attention from his thoughts to the shiver running down his body.

"Could be worse," he told himself, reaching for his cell phone. "I could be in love with a woman who happens to be the harbinger of doom, foretelling the end of the world."

He froze, hearing his own words.

"I'm in love with her. Why the fuck couldn't I say it when it mattered?"

# Twenty-Two

Kaylee awoke groggily, feeling as if someone heavy was lying over top of her. Her body was slow to respond, her mind not even registering what her senses were trying to tell her. Had she ever awoken feeling so sluggish?

A strange warbling came from beside her, and she turned her head with effort, trying to make out the black blob she assumed was a person. Deliberately she grew aware of the world outside her mind: grey walls that reminded her of a basement, a bed too hard to be comfortable, the scent of a hospital mixed with... burnt toast?

Her stomach roared to life at the thought of bread, though it felt a little unsettled and her head was starting to pulse.

"Can you hear me?"

This time, the warbling made sense. She blinked her eyes until they cleared.

"Eddy?" she asked, confused. "What're you doing here?"

He smiled. "How was being dead?"

"What?"

"Was there a light? Did you see dead relatives?"

Kaylee tried to understand what he was talking about. She'd fallen asleep then...

No. Resting back against the bed, she realized she hadn't just fallen asleep and awoken some random place with the satanic cult member. She'd been at the ranch house when Nathan came.

"Oh, god," she whispered, tears squeezing from her eyes. "I died."

_I'll be there when you wake up._

He wasn't. Did he tell her that and kiss her, just to get her to go along with him? Had he killed her then walked away, and that's when Eddy rescued her?

Had any of what she thought Nathan felt towards her been real, or was he lulling her into a false sense of security to make her easier to knock off?

The pain in her head was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

"Yeah. Was it cool?" Eddy asked.

"No," she said. "There was nothing. Just darkness."

"Maybe you didn't die enough."

"I don't even know what that means. Why does it smell like toast in here?"

"Incense." Eddy waved something under her nose. "Supposed to help you heal."

She sneezed, the sensation sending pain shooting through her chest. Abruptly, she realized how ironic it was that Nathan stabbed her through the heart – both literally and figuratively.

"Where am I?" She opened her eyes and pushed herself up, taking in her rustic surroundings skeptically. It smelled like a hospital, but it wasn't. There were no windows in her cement room, and only one beat up machine monitoring her vitals. A bag of some kind of fluid was connected to the IV in her hand. "Your basement?"

"Not quite," Eddy said with a chuckle. "We're in hiding again."

"Ugh."

"You hurting?"

"Yeah a little."

"Is, uh, Shadowman around?"

She assessed herself, trying to figure out what the status of the creature was. He wasn't a wet blanket but neither was he watching her from a distance either. His presence was distant, faint, as if he hadn't recovered, even if she had.

"He is," she answered. "It feels like he's... sleeping? I don't know."

"Awesome. I won't have to kill you now."

She forgot how frustrating it was dealing with Eddy. He made her feel at ease then threatened to cut her into tiny pieces. Too tired to let him freak her out, she rested back in the bed.

"You both survived Nathan killing you," Eddy added. "I guess we got there in time. He was nowhere to be seen, so not sure what their plan was, if they had one."

_Just what I suspected_. Kaylee was embarrassed to feel tears on her face. How could she be in love with someone who just murdered her? Even if it was for a good cause, she couldn't imagine ever hurting him.

"Aww," Eddy said empathetically. "You really liked him. Probably not a good idea, since they all want you dead."

"You think?" she snapped, drawing a shaky breath. "So where are we in hiding?"

"Not far from DC. Everyone is looking for you. We had to take you to our secret lair," he replied. "You get to meet the other members of my special family when you feel up to it. Might take a week or so for you to heal enough."

"Special family," she repeated, shivering. "You mean like..." Her eyes went to his necklace.

"Yep," he replied. "We won't let Nathan or 3G or any other guide get you."

_Great._ What did she say to him? Did she thank him or curse him, because she knew she couldn't off herself, if she had to?

At least Shadowman was dormant. She had time to figure out what to do next.

"By the way." Eddy lowered his voice with a glance towards a closed door. "Keep these hidden." He held out a familiar velvet dice bag.

Kaylee sucked in a breath, eyes flying from the bag to his face.

"Yes, I know what they are. Things will make sense later," he assured her. "Do me a favor. Don't run or try anything stupid around here and don't let Shadowman know you have this."

Kaylee nodded wordlessly and stretched to take the pouch.

"Help me help you stay alive," Eddy said in his friendliest camp counselor voice. "Rest up. Life's about to get interesting."

She watched him leave, too tired to try to understand what exactly just happened.

All she could think about was Nathan. He'd made love to her like she was meant for him and then killed her. How had he just walked away? He swore to help her, and she believed him. A man couldn't kiss someone like that and just... walk away.

_Apparently, Nathan can._

Did that make her a fool?

"If I see you again, Nathan, I'll use that damn knife Eddy gave me. This time, for real." She didn't care that no one heard her words or the sobs that followed them.

Hidden Evil

Hear No

See No

Speak No

# Also By Lizzy Ford

Young Adult Fiction

* * *

Non-Series Titles

The Fall of Esme (2017) (teen paranormal)

The Door (Amazon, Amazon UK) (teen sci-fi)

* * *

Lost Vegas Series – young adult post-apocalyptic

Aveline (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Tiana (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Arthur (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Black Wolf (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Lost Vegas Series Omnibus (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Spell Realm Series – young adult romantic fantasy

Water Spell (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Dragon Spell (2018)

Moon Spell (2018)

Sword Spell (2019)

* * *

Omega Series – teen dystopia with Greek Gods

Omega (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Theta (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Alpha (2017)

* * *

Omega Beginnings Miniseries – individual episodes

Alessandra (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Mismatch (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Phoibe (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Lantos (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Theodosia (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Niko (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Cleon (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Herakles (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Omega Beginnings Miniseries Omnibus (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Theta Beginnings Miniseries

Silent Queen (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Mercenary (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Shadow Titan (Amazon, Amazon UK)

People's Champion (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Theta Beginnings Miniseries Omnibus (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Anshan Saga – new adult science fiction romance

Kiera's Moon (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Kiera's Sun (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Witchlings – young adult paranormal

Dark Summer (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Autumn Storm (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Winter Fire (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Spring Rain (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Broken Beauty Novellas – new adult dramatic fiction

Broken Beauty (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Broken World (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Broken Chains (2017)

* * *

Foretold Trilogy – young adult fantasy

Elle's Journey (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Shadow Rising (2017)

Journey West (2018)

* * *

Voodoo Nights - young adult paranormal

Cursed (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Adult – erotic fiction

* * *

Non-Series Titles

Star Kissed (Amazon, Amazon UK) (erotic sci-fi)

A Night Worth Dying For (Amazon, Amazon UK) (short story, contemporary erotic thriller)

* * *

Trial Series – erotic paranormal romance

Trial by Moon (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Trial by Thrall (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Trial by Blood (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Trial by Heart (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Trial Series Omnibus (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Heart of Fire – sexy dragon shifter

Charred Heart (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Charred Tears (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Charred Hope (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Incubatti Duet – Buffy meets 50 Shades

Zoey Rogue (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Zoey Avenger (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Writing as SE Reign, erotica writer

101 Nights Box Set (featuring all seven serials)

(Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Adult – Sweet Romance

(no graphic sex scenes)

* * *

Non-Series Titles – 2014 \- 2018

Black Moon Draw (Amazon, Amazon UK) (fantasy romance)

Highlander Enchanted (Amazon, Amazon UK) (historical romance)

* * *

History Interrupted – Time Travel Romantic Adventures

West (Amazon, Amazon UK)

East (Amazon, Amazon UK)

North (2017)

South (2018)

* * *

Super Villainess Chronicles – twisted superhero romance

It's Not Easy Being Evil (Amazon, Amazon UK)

It's Not Easy Being Good (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Starwalkers Serials (with Julia Crane) – new adult science fiction serial

Severed (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Trapped (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Exiled (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Revealed (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Escaped (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Ascended (Available in the omnibus)

Starwalkers – Omnibus (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Sons of War – contemporary military romance

Semper Mine (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Soldier Mine (Amazon, Amazon UK)

SEAL Mine (2018)

* * *

Rhyn Trilogy – new adult paranormal with demons

Katie's Hellion (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Katie's Hope (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Rhyn's Redemption (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Rhyn Eternal – Death finds love

Gabriel's Hope (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Deidre's Death (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Darkyn's Mate (Amazon, Amazon UK)

The Underworld (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Twisted Fate (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Twisted Karma __ (2017)

* * *

War of Gods – paranormal with gods, guardians and exceptional humans

Damian's Oracle (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Damian's Assassin (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Damian's Immortal (Amazon, Amazon UK)

The Grey God (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Damian Eternal

Xander's Chance (Amazon, Amazon UK)

The Black God (Amazon, Amazon UK)

* * *

Hidden Evil – paranormal with angels and four horsemen

Hear No (Amazon, Amazon UK)

See No (2017)

Speak No (2017)

* * *

Unnamed Series

Unnatural (TBD)

* * *

Short Stories

Santa's Ninja Elves: Natasha (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Santa's Ninja Elves: Hunter (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Snow Whisperers (retired)

* * *

Non-Series Titles – 2011 \- 2013

A Demon's Desire (paranormal romance) (Amazon, Amazon UK)

The Warlord's Secret (fantasy romance) (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Maddy's Oasis (contemporary romance) (Amazon, Amazon UK)

Rebel Heart (sci-fi romance) (Amazon, Amazon UK)

# About the Author

I breathe stories. I dream them. If it were possible, I'd eat them, too. (I'm pretty sure they'd taste like cotton candy.) I can't escape them - they're everywhere! Which is why I write! I was born to bring the crazy worlds and people in my mind to life, and I love sharing them with as many people as I can.

I'm also the bestselling, award winning, internationally acclaimed author of over sixty titles and counting. I write speculative fiction in multiple subgenres of romance and fantasy, contemporary fiction, books for both teens and adults, and just about anything else I feel like writing. If I can imagine it, I can write it!

I live in the desert of southern Arizona with a pack of spoiled dogs and Tubbs, the Godfather cat who rules them all.

Connect with Lizzy:

www.LizzyFord.com

lizzy@lizzyford.com

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