

The Company of Shadows

By Lisa Olsen

Copyright 2013 by Lisa Olsen

Smashwords Edition

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Acknowledgements

Thanks to my editing team, Beckie Pimentel (Lady Bex!), Marilyn Weaver, and my James for helping me to sharpen my writing skills. Randi Pandi (who read the first draft in one night!), thanks for reassuring me that it's okay to go a little darker sometimes.

Chapter One

Need.

Not wants or desires, but need drove Asherik to seek the company of shadows. The sunlight didn't pain him in a physical sense, but he preferred the darkness. All manner of interesting things grew bolder under the cover of night, all driven by need. Street toughs openly flashed makeshift weapons, demanding tribute of those stupid enough to look prosperous on the seamy streets of San Francisco. Junkies smashed car windows, searching for anything portable worth a few dollars, desperate to slide oblivion into their veins. Women sold their bodies, some to chase that same oblivion, some to feed a deeper need. Scuttling vermin and insects; night was the perfect time to feed, and Ash felt a hunger that couldn't be satisfied by tender bits of veal sautéed in an excellent Marsala.

Though he enjoyed the comforts of excess (the elegant meal, black satin sheets, and panoramic views of the bay that stretched from every window of the modern house he'd appropriated), Ash preferred the seedy squalor of the Tenderloin district when it came time to satisfy his true hunger. There, among the dregs of human society, he felt a kinship. His sins were no worse than the sins of man. There were plenty who fed from terror, pain and lust. Tonight he was after something far more elusive – innocence.

He could pluck a victim from the streets at any time for the taste of fear; it was corruption Ash sought. Corruption of innocence above all else, a feat made all that much more elusive for the hunting ground he chose. It would be nothing to lay in wait outside of a church or a library and find all manner of easy prey, but he wanted more. Nothing so simple as virginity, though that was a keen pleasure to be had, but an innocence of spirit was all the more satisfying to consume. Far tastier than the gobbets of quivering flesh he fed upon when the mood struck.

Though he enjoyed the occasional grapple with men, Ash preferred the softness of women. There were women to be had on the streets, but their dead eyes offered him no joy. He wanted to hunt. He wanted the thrill of discovery.

And so he'd dressed himself in an elegant suit of virgin wool, soft against the skin and pleasing to the eye. Black on black, open at the throat, with a shock of scarlet peeping out of the breast coat pocket. Perhaps a bit warm, given the muggy night, but Ash didn't mind the heat. He enjoyed a good sweat.

He pushed the silver coupe he'd appropriated through the squalid streets with a squeal of tires, daring a policeman to stop him. There were none in sight, having abandoned that part of the city for the night unless called. Parking a short distance away from his chosen destination, he didn't bother to lock the car, preferring to make it easier on thieves. It made no difference to him if the car was there on his return, and after a brief consideration, left the keys in the car; a lucky find for a comrade.

The neon and pumping music called him to his purpose. Inferno – the club brought him everything his delicate palate could desire. Here, women were used in the dirty bathrooms and no one looked twice. One could obtain all manner of mood altering drugs through sale or trade. Sometimes Ash chose to indulge. Turn on, tune in, drop out... the concept hadn't changed much since the sixties, and there was a draw to that kind of nothingness.

If he was in the mood for a quick fuck, there were women who required less than a crook of his finger to follow him wherever he led. The body he'd chosen was well formed and desired by women. Dark, smoldering eyes that promised a garden of delights, strong jaw covered in a rasp of stubble, designed to raise a flush of tender pink on delicate flesh. Lips full and constantly quirked in a half smile that implied he knew secrets. Secrets he might share with the right woman.

That was all that mattered, be the woman pretty or plain. Make a woman feel special and she became yours, body and soul. Sometimes Ash allowed himself to become lost in the pursuit of debauchery alone. To bury himself in soft, slick heat, chasing pleasure until the dawn. He left those women with nothing more than a satisfied soreness and a love bite or two.

But always the need returned.

Need drove him to push past the crowd, plucking a full glass from an unguarded table (it mattered little what it held), settling on a white vinyl couch in the rear of the club to watch. Ash liked to watch. He liked it very much.

There was an air of indifference to the swaying throng; an almost tangible apathy, as though none of them expected to live to see the dawn. Peppered among them, like writhing tongues of flame burning brightly in the gloom, were those who were in over their heads. It was there that he hoped to find the flash of innocence he sought.

It was there that he spotted her. Long, raven hair spilling down her back, beckoning to him, begging him to wrap its length around his fist and pull her close. But he would watch and wait. The night was still young and he enjoyed the pleasure of allowing the need to build.

For now.

Chapter Two

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person in the world not having sex." Cady Garrett leaned against the scarred table, not liking the way the low couch stuck to her sweaty skin when she sat back. It made her wonder what other bodily fluids had been stuck to the cheap vinyl in the past.

"That's just silly." Kelli held platinum curls away from her neck, pressing a cool glass to her cheek. Even without all the dancing, there were enough people in the club generating body heat to rival any sauna. Never troubled by modesty, she wore the briefest of skirts, a generous amount of flesh showing both above and below the scraps of pink fabric she called a blouse. Cady could see Kelli flexing her bare toes under the table. That's what she got for wearing ridiculously high heels to a dance club. "Did you even see that guy over there with the ponytail? Trust me, you are not the only person not having sex tonight."

Cady couldn't help but look, hiding her smile behind a rum and diet soda. Falling into the game, she pointed a discreet finger alongside the glass. "And sausage fingers guy isn't having sex."

"I'm not having sex," Penny volunteered in her babydoll voice. She alone seemed unbothered by the heat in a navy blue dress, better suited for a dinner at the marina. Probably because she was so tiny, her body didn't produce enough of its own heat to keep warm. She'd actually brought a sweater with her despite the summer heat, her dark hair loose, covering her shoulders both in front and back.

It made Cady itch to tie it back into a ponytail, glad her own long, auburn hair was wound up and out of the way in twin knots. Her clothes lay somewhere in the middle of the two extremes her friends sported. A thin, strappy tanktop over skinny jeans and pretty sandals she could dance in without breaking a toe. Cady wasn't on the prowl, she just wanted to relax and have a good time. "That doesn't count, you're engaged," she said, taking another cooling sip of her watered down drink.

"Which is ridiculous. You should be having more sex than the two of us put together," Kelli snorted.

"No one has more sex than you, Kelli." Penny gave her a sweet smile, ducking to avoid the wadded up napkin Kelli threw at her. "Hey, can I help it if Justin is old fashioned? He wants to wait, so we're waiting."

"No guy likes to wait," Cady murmured. It was part of the reason why she wasn't having sex these days. No guys liked to stick around long enough for her to be sure. Not since high school when sex wasn't expected after the third date anyway.

"What if you get to the big night and it's... you know..." Kelli's finger wilted and she made an accompanying sound like dying in a videogame, but Penny maintained her serene superiority.

"It'll be wonderful because we waited."

"I'm sure it'll be magical." A touch of envy crept into Cady's smile, though she wasn't sure her friend had the right idea either. Cady wasn't exactly saving herself for marriage; if she found a guy she loved, she'd be doing the deed every chance she got.

"And if it's not..." Penny's voice lowered, as if she was about to share something wicked. "Then I'll just pack old reliable with me and take care of it myself." The women traded a giggle, clinking their glasses in a hasty toast.

"Well, I'm not old fashioned, I'm jaded," Cady proclaimed with a weary sigh. Burned by too many men (and too recently), she'd made a silent promise to herself to take a break from the dating world.

"How can you be jaded already?" Kelli scoffed. "You're barely nineteen years old. Look at me, twenty-three and I've slept with half the population of Angola. If anyone should be jaded, it's me."

"Cool it!" Cady's gaze darted around nervously. "I don't want to get tossed out of here."

"Newsflash, nobody cares." Kelli drained the rest of her glass and pressed it to her cheek, chasing after the remnants of cold. "Look around, they're too caught up in their own shit to waste two seconds over whether or not you should be in here."

"I guess," Cady relaxed. She was right, nobody gave her a second look. "Hey, what is the population of Angola, by the way? Just so we know what kind of numbers we're talking about," she teased, drawing a narrowing of the eyes from her blonde friend.

"Oh Cady, you're looking at this all wrong." Penny shook her head, chasing after the cherry in the bottom of her glass with the flimsy straw. "You're the opposite of jaded, you're a romantic."

Cady almost spilled her drink, eyes bugging out at the ridiculous statement. "What? Take that back!" she demanded, but to her disgust, Kelli joined in with a sad shake of the head.

"You know it's true."

"It is," Kelli added. "That's why you haven't hooked up since Stefan dumped you. You're still waiting for that perfect, non-existent guy to sweep you off your feet."

Familiar words of protest jumped to the ready, it was a subject they'd gone over before. "He didn't dump me, I dumped him."

"Only after he stopped calling you."

"I thought we agreed not to mention the S word anymore?" Cady scowled at Penny until she went back to chasing her cherry.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Cady fell back against the couch, hugging her elbows. "I'm not waiting for a perfect guy," she muttered. "I'm just tired of going out with guys who are only after one thing."

"I know what you need." Kelli's blue eyes widened, and Cady's stomach sank, fearing the blonde's passion for whatever it was.

"Please don't say makeover..."

"Oh, that would be super fun, but not what I was going for." Kelli waved the thought away. "I was thinking more along the lines of you taking a break from picking out guys since your judgment is obviously flawed."

That didn't sound so bad, especially since it already went with what she had in mind.

"Instead you should let us pick out your next guy!"

Because her judgment was so much better? "That's crazy. All you know how to pick is guys to hook up with."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to pick the super boring guys you're into," Kelli insisted, earning a frown from Cady.

"I don't like boring guys."

Kelli continued, undeterred. "Besides, Penny knows how to pick guys that want to wait, look at Justin. He's almost not even a man."

"He's a man..." Penny ventured in a small voice, and the pair debated that for a few minutes while Cady watched, until they both turned to her with expectant faces.

"This is stupid," Cady insisted, refusing to even consider it.

"No, really. Just for tonight, either you pick a guy or we'll pick for you." The bubbly girl stuck out her hand. "Deal?"

"Why would I make a dumb deal like that?" Cady kept her hand firmly in her lap. "I don't want to go out with anybody."

"That's because you haven't met our guy yet," Penny nodded brightly, her dark eyes already searching. "Let's see... who do we have to work with?" They made a big show of scanning the crowd, but Cady sat back, already having lost interest in the game. As if it was that easy. Pick a guy out like a book on the shelf. Didn't they realize you couldn't judge a book by its cover? Otherwise Rico Suave from across the room with his dark, smoldering looks (and probable venereal warts) would be the answer to all her dreams.

While she went up to the bar to buy another round of drinks they continued their search, squabbling between themselves over what type of guy Cady needed. Kelli insisted Cady needed a hottie to make her forget about her stupid standards and have a bit of fun for a change, while Penny seemed to take the exercise very seriously, carefully assessing the possible suitors.

She made it back to the table with the drinks in time to see Kelli throw her hands up in disgust. "I give up, how about that homeless guy over there?" she gestured, not even caring if he heard her or not.

Cady's head swiveled, unable to keep from looking. He sat alone in the corner, elbows resting against the table, watching the crowd with an unshakable intensity. Wearing a blue hoodie under a faded army jacket, everything about him appeared rumpled and frayed, prompting the homeless crack, but she didn't think he actually lived on the streets, he was too clean.

An unshaven jaw, not the kind Rico Suave over there cultivated to perfection, but rough, as if he'd forgotten to shave for a week. The straight blonde hair was a little shaggy on top too, but trimmed close on the sides in an almost military cut. His nose was too flat to be conventionally handsome and had obviously been broken before, but the eyes were a clear, cornflower blue, free from the glassy stare of drugs or too much drink.

"Hey, I know that guy," Cady realized suddenly. "He's not homeless, he's my neighbor."

"He's not that bad," Penny allowed, taking a deeper look. "His eyes are pretty."

"He needs a makeover, STAT," Kelli speculated, taking a long drink. "I think you should be the one to give it to him, Cady."

"I don't think he's interested in a makeover," she snorted, continuing to watch the man. His gaze slid over to their table and then quickly flicked away. Had he heard them? Not a chance over the din of the music, Cady decided.

"You should go talk to him," Penny nodded encouragingly. "He's your neighbor, that makes him safe."

Cady wasn't sure she followed the logic in that, but before she could reply, Kelli laid a hand on her arm.

"No, hold everything, take a look at this guy." Kelli smiled over the rim of her glass at a guy on the dance floor, wildly gyrating his hips in her direction. "That is the kind of guy who could curl your toes. Go talk to him instead."

Ick. "You know what, I think you're right." Cady pushed herself up from the table. "I should go talk to him."

"Really?" They blinked in unison.

"Sure, it would be the neighborly thing to do."

Chapter Three

In general, Cady didn't have trouble talking to guys. Outgoing by nature, she figured the worst that could happen was he could tell her to F off, and she could at least say she'd tried. Still, she hadn't approached a total stranger like this before, usually there was some other pretense that had her offering the first words. Something like... I love your jacket, do you ride a motorcycle? But what could she say to this guy? He looked like he was dressed from Salvation Army castoffs.

"Hi, I don't think I've seen you in here before," Cady approached, smiling past the inner cringe at the lamest pick up line ever.

"No, thank you."

Not what she'd expected to hear. "I wasn't offering anything." A furrow appeared on her brow, he hadn't even looked at her.

"It's just a general no, thank you." He offered the barest of smiles before returning his eyes to the crowd. "I'm not here to pick up girls."

"Oh, are you into guys?" Cady sat beside him, the brief smile and oddly polite rejection piquing her curiosity. He didn't outwardly object to her taking a seat, but he didn't look thrilled about it either.

"I'm not here to pick up anybody," he growled, letting out a sigh that could have meant anything from a deep heartache to indigestion. "Go try someone else."

Cady's eyes darted back to her table to get a thumbs up and an encouraging grin from Penny. Kelli was already making eyes at the mad dancer she'd spotted before. "I'm not trying to pick you up either."

That earned her the first look from him that lasted longer than half a second, and it came with a raised brow. "You're not?"

"Okay, maybe I did say hello under false pretenses," she allowed with a flap of the hand. "Do you see my two friends over there?"

His gaze never shifted, but he described them well enough. "Petite brunette, dressed like a widow, and the bottle blonde, five six, her ass hanging out on the dance floor?"

Her head craned back in time to see that Kelli was indeed out on the dance floor, shaking her booty. "Then you were checking us out."

"Not particularly." He shrugged a single shoulder.

"Um..." Not quite sure what to make of that, she plunged ahead. "Anyway, I sort of promised I'd try to pick you up, but I'm not really. It's just to get them off my back, and Penny thinks you're safe because we're neighbors."

"That's the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard." He didn't bother to keep the scorn from his voice and it earned her another look. "Why would I be safe because we live in the same building?"

Even though she'd expressed the same doubt not two minutes before, she couldn't help but try and defend her friend's position. "Well, because... if you tried anything I could always tell the cops where you live."

"And that would make whatever sicko attack I could dream up okay?"

"No, but you wouldn't attack me, knowing I could turn you in. It's a natural deterrent, see?" Her winsome smile didn't appear to have any effect on him.

"Only if you survived it."

"My friends know you're my neighbor, they'd report me missing if I didn't turn up for work tomorrow."

"Big comfort that would be to your friends and family after I murdered you in cold blood."

Her head canted to one side as she wondered how they'd strayed to that particular topic. "Do you often kill girls who pick you up in clubs?"

"Not usually, but I'm beginning to understand the appeal," he muttered, shaking his head. He looked over at her and she got the feeling he was truly seeing her for the first time, his eyes giving her as frank an appraisal as she'd given him before lingering on the delicate gold cross that hung around her neck. His face softened, and when he met her eyes again, his tone was earnest. "Look, whatever this is, no thank you. The safest thing you can do is take your girlfriends out of here and go home. In a group, together. In fact, you shouldn't be out in a place like this at all."

He was starting to sound like her brother. "I can take care of myself." Before he could reply with what she was sure would be a cutting remark, she changed the subject. "What are you doing in here anyway? Besides not picking up girls or guys?"

"I'm... working," he replied after a moment's hesitation.

All at once the reason for his protective disinterest hit her. "Are you a cop?"

"Something like that."

"Why didn't you say so?" Cady relaxed beside him. It made perfect sense to her, a cop would find the neighborhood dangerous for a girl her age, and it explained his hyper-vigilance. "You know, it actually helps with your stakeout in a club if you're seen talking to a girl. Otherwise you stick out like a sore thumb."

"You think so?" A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Been on many stakeouts have you?"

"Oh yeah, I'm an old hand at them. My dad was a cop back in the day. He used to take my brother and I with him plenty of times."

"I'll bet." His eyes narrowed, but at least they were focused on her for a change. "What kind of a cop takes his kids into a dangerous situation like that?"

"The kind who can't afford a babysitter?" she grinned, and he shook his head in amusement.

"Let me guess, you saw the back seat of a cop car a few times and now you think you know all about surveillance?"

"I know the trick is to blend in, to not look like you're there just to watch. Which you are failing at, by the way. You look like you belong in the alley behind the club, not inside it."

He frowned down at his jacket. "I'm not trying to blend in, I'm here to make sure nothing bad happens. There's something to be said for a visible deterrent, you know."

"Then why not show up in your uniform and flash your badge around? Besides, what are you expecting to stop from here? Everybody knows the drugs go down by the bathrooms."

"I'm not here because of the drugs, I'm here..." he stopped, eyes darting back to the crowd. "Shit... I'm here letting myself getting distracted by a pretty girl instead of doing my job."

"You think I'm pretty?" Cady's smile returned at the backhanded compliment, but he didn't seem to realize he'd given it. His attention was fixated on something else and she turned to see if she could spot it, but everything looked normal to her. There was no sign of Kelli anywhere, and Cady realized she'd been gone longer than she intended. Penny must be... sitting with Rico Suave, chatting up a storm and... flirting?

"You should get back to your friend before she makes a serious mistake." He seemed to echo her thoughts. But how did he know Penny wasn't free to flirt in a club with a sexy stranger?

"She'll be alright, trust me. She's just being friendly."

"Very friendly," he replied in a flat tone and Cady had to agree. Penny was being uncharacteristically touchy feely, laying her hand on the guy's arm, leaning in close while she talked to him. It was like she and Kelli had switched bodies.

"Okay, but she's engaged," Cady insisted, not sure who she was trying to convince more, him or herself. "There's no way she's about to leave with that guy." Except that they both rose from the table together. "I'd better go."

"Be careful, he isn't what he seems."

Cady spared him a last look, trying to figure out the meaning behind that enigmatic statement before she hurried after Penny, eager to catch them before she slipped away with the guy. Could he somehow tell with his cop-vision that the guy was a baddie? She managed to hook an arm through Penny's elbow as they reached the end of the bar.

"Hey, where are you headed?"

"We're going to a party," Penny smiled brightly, her eyes wide and shiny. Had he dosed her with something? Cady thought she saw a flicker of annoyance shadow the man's handsome face but it was gone in an instant, replaced by an engaging smile.

"You are welcome to join us if you wish."

"No, thanks. In fact, I think it's time we called it a night. Don't you think so, Penny?" Cady nodded encouragingly at Penny who ignored her, her eyes trained on the man's face.

"We're going to a party," she insisted vacantly.

"What happened to Kelli?" Cady did her best to command her friend's attention, giving her arm a shake. "Where's Kelli?"

Penny's head wobbled, but it worked, and she turned to look back at her. "What do you think? She already left with that guy."

Damn. "Okay, well, it was nice of you to invite us, but I don't think we're up for any parties tonight. Thank you." Cady put a note of finality in her voice, not quite rude, but making it clear she had no intention of letting her friend leave with him.

"But... Claudio said..."

"I'd be more worried about what Justin had to say about this." Cady gave her a pointed look. "Remember Justin?"

"Justin..." Penny blinked, almost as though she didn't remember her own fiancée.

"Yep, time to go." Cady grabbed hold of Penny's elbow, only to have it pulled from her grasp as Claudio held firm to her friend's arm. "I'm not playing tug-o-Penny with you, dude. Let go or I'll scream bloody murder."

"In this place, who would care?" He chuckled, his voice all soft and silky, but somehow penetrating the din without any trouble. "Join us. I promise it will be a night you would not soon forget." With his free hand he reached for hers, bringing it to his lips.

Cady felt the invitation down to her toes, and instead of telling him exactly what he could do with his slimy suggestion, she nodded, held captive by those dark eyes. He smiled, and she wanted nothing more than to see him smile again. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, poised to say yes, when she was jostled from behind, something cold, wet and sticky spilling over her side. Letting out a yelp, Cady turned in time to see a girl with frizzy orange hair shrug her shoulders in apology.

"Oopsie," she grinned sloppily before tottering away on platform heels.

It was better than a bucket of cold water for cooling her jets, and Cady shook her head to clear it. Was she seriously contemplating leaving with this guy and Penny for a night of... ick! Maybe he'd used some kind of hypnotism on her? She wasn't about to stick around and find out.

"Now, ladies, if I may suggest..." Claudio started to say, but Cady ignored him, grabbing onto Penny with a jerky tug, pulling her free of his grasp.

"Let's go, Penny," she insisted, looking anywhere but at the guy. Penny objected weakly, but Cady had no trouble dragging her out of the club, sucking in a shaky breath once they reached the relatively fresher night air outside. Without stopping, she pulled her down the block, knowing they'd never get a cab in that area of town, but at least the busses were still running. Darting a look over her shoulder, she half expected to find Claudio following them, but apart from a short line of people still trying to get into the busy club, the street was empty.

"What's going on?" Penny blinked, rubbing her arms against the cooler temperature, which was probably still over seventy-five degrees. "Where's my sweater?"

Cady laughed, nerves and relief lending a touch of hysteria to her giggle. "Where's your sweater? That's all you have to say to me right now?"

"Well... I..." Slowing to a stop, Penny placed a hand over her heart, her forehead crumpling as she puzzled through the mental fog.

"Come on, we have to keep moving." Cady propelled her forward. It was one of the unspoken rules of the street. Keep moving, keep your head down, don't make eye contact. Especially given the weirdness they'd just experienced. Her thoughts went back to her neighbor, the cop. How had he known that there was more to Claudio than met the eye?

"Did I almost just go home with a random guy?" Penny's already tinny voice squeaked into a higher register as the magnitude of her actions sank in.

"Yep," Cady nodded, pulling her across the street. "You and me both."

"Oh my God..."

"It's alright, Penny, you didn't do it."

"Yes, but I..."

"Let's just get out of here and we can talk about it later." Cady gave her another subtle tug and this time Penny allowed herself to be led. "Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee?"

"No, I want to go home."

It wasn't Cady's first choice, they lived in opposite directions and she'd rather not be alone just yet, but she nodded, understanding her friend's desire to feel safe at home. Luck was with them, and Penny's bus appeared at the end of the street as they reached the stop. "Here comes your bus. Will you be okay getting home from here, or do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be fine." The words tumbled out too fast, and Cady wondered if her friend was trying to convince herself. "I think I just need to lie down for a bit. I feel so strange."

That didn't sound so good. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with?"

"No, don't be silly," Penny smiled weakly. "It's not all that late, I'll get home just fine."

She started to sound more like her old self, and Cady didn't really want to ride clear to the other side of town and back. "Okay, but call me when you get home so I'll know you made it there alright."

"Sure, of course I will." The bus stopped with a squeal of the brakes, the doors opening with a hiss. "Goodnight, Cady. Thank you."

"No worries. Remember to call me, okay?"

Penny nodded, hurrying up the steps to flash her bus pass at the driver who barely glanced at it. Crossing the street, Cady studied the schedule posted under the number for her bus. Weighing the time against the probability of it actually showing up on time, she decided to hoof it, glad she'd worn comfortable walking shoes. Besides, she didn't want to stand around waiting, it made her feel more like a target.

Usually walking home at night didn't bother her all that much. It drove her brother, Ian, nuts whenever she did it alone, but damned if she was going to sit at home every night off because he had to work. As long as she carried less than twenty dollars on her, getting mugged wasn't that big of a deal.

The spilled drink on her shirt felt clammy now, smelling unpleasantly of sickly sweet cranberries and hard alcohol. Feeling somewhat exposed with her bare shoulders and arms in the brief tank top, she unwound her hair from the knots on the side of her head, letting it spill down her back.

Her hair was the one thing Cady was vain about. She never cut it, and it hung just past the top of her jeans, even with a bit of curl in it from the tightly wound knots she'd twisted it into. When she was a little girl, she'd loved the story of Beauty and the Beast. Not a princess, but an ordinary girl who gladly traded her life to save her father's, and found love in the strangest of places.

In the well worn pages of her book, Beauty had long, flowing, crimson hair and vivid green eyes, and her beloved father had always teased her that perhaps she was a descendent of Beauty's. Cady's eyes were more brown than green on most days, but she imagined her hair was similar, especially when she treated it with henna. In the sunlight it glowed with red fire, but at night, it darkened to rich mahogany, as it was now. The cloak of hair offered her some measure of protection against the night, and Cady felt more comfortable with it down.

Hurried steps carried her past the entrance to Inferno again as she headed for home, and Cady darted another look in the club's direction, but there was no sign of Claudio. Ready to dismiss thoughts of the disturbing man, her mind turned to her neighbor, and she wished she'd thought to ask him his name. The mailbox next to hers said D. Brown in faded pencil, but it could have been years out of date for all she knew. It was strange that she'd never talked to him before, too. Not that she was all that friendly with most of the people in her building, but he did live next door, and she knew the names of the residents of the other two apartments on their floor.

Crossing the street again, she turned the corner, breathing shallowly through her mouth as she stepped past an alley that reeked of urine and worse. There were dark shapes huddled there, but Cady didn't look. If she looked, she would see. If she saw, she might stop. And if she stopped... you never knew if you'd escape the encounter with a dollar less in your pocket or end up in the hospital. In the daytime, she tried to spare a buck or two when she could, but at night it was best to keep moving.

A quick glance at the time showed that if she could make three blocks in the next three minutes, she stood a good chance of catching a bus that would take her the rest of the way home in one shot. Easy as pie...

Easy, except when the figure of a man stepped out from the doorway of a noodle shop, completely blocking her path. Especially when she recognized Claudio's inviting smile. "What lovely hair you have." His eyes glittered in the green neon light, casting his features with an unhealthy pallor.

"Oh, balls..."

Chapter Four

Cady focused stonily on his chest, refusing to look him in the eye. "Get out of my way, I said I'm not interested."

"I seem to recall otherwise. I seem to recall you being very, very interested." Claudio took a step closer, and Cady immediately backtracked.

"Only because you did something to me, and you know it," she scowled. "If you knew me at all, you'd know I'm not the type to leave the club with some greaseball I just met. And I definitely wouldn't be down with a little three-way action."

"That is precisely why you interest me." His steps halted and Cady resisted the urge to look up at him to see if he was full of bullshit. "I want to know you, Cady, very much."

"Well, I don't want to know you, so if you'll excuse me..." She took a sideways step to move around him, but faster than she could wrap her head around, he had her pressed up against the dirty building, the edge of the window digging painfully into her ribs. Her mouth opened to suck in a breath, and before she could scream, his hand covered it, effectively silencing her.

Twin lights of an approaching car gave her the hope to struggle for all she was worth, screaming impotently against the heat of his hand, but the car didn't so much as slow. Maybe all they saw was the intimate embrace of two strangers, or maybe they saw more but didn't want to get involved. All that mattered to Cady was she was about to become a statistic.

It was exactly what they warned you about. You leave a club alone or with a good looking guy and they find your body raped and mutilated in a dumpster the next morning. Wide eyed, she whimpered as he dragged her away, her feet flailing, unable to gain any purchase on the ground until he pressed her against the side of a car in a cramped parking lot. Cady squinched her eyes shut, concentrating on evening out her breathing to stop the burning in her lungs from lack of air.

"Shhh, it doesn't have to be this way," he crooned at her ear. "Open your eyes and look at me." That only doubled her resolve to keep her eyes tightly shut. Somehow she knew it would be worse if she gave him that satisfaction. "You're being childish." Claudio lost some of his amusement, frustration creeping in.

Tough titty, her mind screamed at him with juvenile glee as she dug her fingernails into the side of his wrist as hard as she could.

"You will obey me!" Something sharp jabbed her in the stomach and her eyes popped open of their own volition. Instantly his face swam before her, blocking out all else. "There now, relax. I don't want to hurt you."

The tension drained away, even as a secret corner of her mind wailed in protest, preferring to hold onto the terror to this easy capitulation. "You don't?" she breathed as his hand let up on her mouth.

"No." His fingers stroked the side of her cheek tenderly. "I only want to know you."

That didn't sound so bad. It actually sounded pretty good, and Cady's head dipped in a slow nod. Something nagged at her sub-conscious though. "Why?"

"Why?" he repeated, his head tilting to one side.

"Yes, why do you want to know me?"

A low chuckle rumbled through him and she felt it everywhere his body pressed against hers. "Can't you guess?" His fingers brushed down the side of her neck, tracing the line of her collar bone and continued down over the swell of her breast.

Naked desire shot through her like a bolt of electricity, but Cady fought it, clinging to the mistrust of her response. "I don't want to."

"Your body tells another story. Listen closely..." His hand snaked around her waist to catch hold of her hair, tugging gently, effectively tipping her head back. Before she could protest, his lips covered hers, taking and giving in the same breath. And then she didn't want to protest anymore. She didn't want anything but to give him everything he sought and more.

His fingers probed under her top, splaying over bare skin and Cady arched under his touch, no longer caring where they were. The tug on her hair grew sharper and she moaned against his mouth, pleasure mingling with pain until she realized he'd stopped. Stopped kissing, stopped touching, stopped everything. She opened her eyes, only to see him frozen in a rictus of pain. The handle of a dagger protruded from his back, low, near the kidneys. Cady stared at it stupidly, not understanding where it had materialized from.

Claudio made no move to pull it out, he made no moves at all, scarcely breathing. "Help... me..." escaped from his lips, mutated by lack of movement. Without pause, she grabbed hold of the hilt, surprised at how easily it slid from his flesh.

"No, don't!"

Head snapping up, she caught sight of her neighbor, approaching at a dead run. She stared at him in shock, not comprehending why he could have possibly thrown a dagger at another man. And then it hit her like a cold slap in the face as Claudio's influence slid away and her free will returned. In that same instant, he spun her around, using her as a human shield, one hand fisted tightly in her hair and the other at her throat. The cop slowed, approaching warily.

"Let her go," he demanded, hands coming up slowly.

"I could end her now. That would be more blood on your hands."

"My hands are clean, yours are the ones stained with souls," her neighbor scowled, and Cady licked her lips, finding her voice.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Shh," Claudio purred in her ear. "It will be over soon."

But Cady found no comfort in his words, the spell broken. She gripped the dagger loosely, her hand slippery with his blood. Should she do something? Did the guy have another weapon? Why didn't the cop draw his gun?

"Don't take another step," Claudio growled. "I would hate to mark this tender flesh." Cady felt a sting at her neck as his middle finger scraped across her collarbone, drawing blood despite his words.

Heedless of the warning, the cop continued his advance, producing another blade. "I'll go through her if that's what it takes to stop you. You know I will."

"How prettily he defends you," Claudio chuckled. "You may kill this body, but you can't stop me. Haven't you learned that by now?"

"This is crazy..." The world began to spin and Cady sucked in a greedy breath, realizing she'd been frozen in place with fear for far too long. It started to look like she was dead no matter what happened, whatever feud between the men too all encompassing to care about a little thing such as her safety. All at once she remembered she had the knife in her hand, and Cady plunged it into Claudio's thigh. At the same instant she let all of her weight crumple to the floor, as if her legs wouldn't hold her any longer, and slid from his grasp. Expecting pursuit, she was stunned to find him completely frozen again.

Not so was her neighbor, who closed the distance faster than she thought possible. Cady expected him to kneel at her side to see if she was okay, or to call for back up or even handcuff Claudio. He did none of those things. The black blade of his second dagger flashed once and Cady watched in horror as he impaled Claudio's hand through his own. The blade pinned them both to the car, palms pressed together, their blood mingling to run down the hood.

"Oh my God..." Her lips moved, but no sound came out as she stared at them in a shocked stupor.

The blonde grunted against the pain, but kept them steadfastly pinned together as he began to chant. "Immundus spiritus, audite et scire timor."

"What are you doing?" Cady's scalp ached from the pulls to her hair, and the scratch on her collarbone oozed blood, but other than that she'd managed to escape relatively unscathed.

He ignored her, continuing to chant. "Hostis humani generis, vitae raptor, tu malorum radix vitiorum seductor hominum..."

Whatever he was doing, Cady saw real terror in Claudio's eyes. They beckoned to her and she quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught up in his spell again. A flash of movement caught her eye as she trained her gaze down; Claudio's fingers scrabbled at the hilt of the dagger buried in his thigh. "His other hand is still free," she called out in warning, but her neighbor gave no sign that he even heard her, continuing to speak in the strange language that reminded her of being in church. "The knife," she managed to squeak only seconds before Claudio pulled it free with a lurch, immediately plunging it into the cop's unprotected side.

He sank to his knees with a groan of pain, the black dagger still trapping both their hands against the car. No longer frozen, Claudio tried to free his own hand, but the cop somehow found the strength to fight him. Their hands worked free of the car, still pinned together, and the blonde man's lips moved, resuming his chanting.

With a cry of anguish, Claudio reversed his struggle, clasping the other man's hand and pulling instead of pushing. It sent the tip of the dagger against his own unprotected neck. The blade cut through sinew and tendon, and the dark man didn't stop until it sliced through the thick artery at his own throat.

Cady watched in horror as Claudio's blood spurted in a great arc, landing at her feet by his own design. "I didn't choose this," he rasped, his voice thick and burbly as he settled his shadowy gaze upon her. "Remember that."

The cop chanted faster, his words tripping over themselves, but as the light faded from Claudio's eyes, he lost his steam. "No..." he pounded weakly on the man's chest. "Goddamn it, not again..."

"Is he... dead?" Cady asked in a small voice, not sure if she should remind him of her presence or not. His comment to go through her to kill the guy still loomed in the back of her mind.

"I lost him," he replied dully, rolling onto his back with a groan. "I lost him," he repeated.

It was a struggle to comprehend what he'd expected when bringing knives into the equation. One moment he'd seemed hell bent on stabbing the guy to death, the next he looked ready to weep at his demise. So much blood... part of that was her fault for stabbing him in the leg. Her own involvement in the struggle made her feel queasy, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins lending a tremor to her hands. For the moment, she decided to forget about trying to process it all. Just because Claudio was dead and gone, didn't mean the danger had passed.

"You're bleeding pretty badly, I think we should call an ambulance," she suggested, pushing up to her knees to get a better look at his side. Anything to avoid looking into Claudio's sightless eyes.

"No ambulance," he grunted, pulling the black dagger free of their hands and wrapping a strip of cloth around the wound.

"Are you kidding me? You have not one but two stab wounds." The puncture of his hand might even need surgery depending on the thickness of the blade.

"No ambulance," he repeated, lurching to his feet with more resolve than she would have thought possible. "And no police. Have to get out of here."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I thought you said you were a cop?"

"I said... something like that." His lips twitched into a smile that quickly became a grimace as he coughed painfully. "Leave now, before he comes back..." He took two staggering steps forward before he went down on one knee, swearing against the pain. Cady rushed to his side, insinuating herself under his arm.

It didn't make sense... before who came back? The dead guy? Or did Claudio have a partner out there waiting for him to bring home a girl or two? But what was she supposed to do, leave him there bleeding in the deserted parking lot after he'd saved her life?

"Okay, we'll leave," she agreed without further argument, helping him back up to his feet. "What's your name?" She couldn't keep calling him "the cop" in her head, not anymore.

"Sh-Shaw. Ethan Shaw," he murmured, his jaw growing slack.

"Nice to meet you, Ethan, I'm Cady," she replied, gritting her teeth as she took on more of his weight. They wouldn't get far on foot. "I don't suppose you have a car?" she asked glibly. Nobody had a car in their neighborhood, not unless they were willing to have it broken into on a regular basis. Maybe if he was from one of the richer neighborhoods to the north where people could afford to rent a private parking space, but not around the Tenderloin.

"Black Challenger one block over. Keys in pocket." His head lolled forward, and it was all she could do to keep them moving. Thank goodness they wouldn't have to go far. Cady managed to keep them both upright, her arms wrapping around to hold him tightly.

"I've got you, you'll be okay." She repeated little reassurances to him softly, over and over, in an effort to convince herself as much as him. He looked bad, his skin waxy and pale, like he might pass out at any moment. What would she do then? Drag him the rest of the way to the car? "Come on, stay with me. I see your car, we're almost there."

Finally reaching the car, she propped him against the passenger's door to fish inside his coat for the keys. "See, it's okay, we got here." She kept the steady litany of comments coming. Digging the keys free, she awkwardly got the door open and tried to help him inside as painlessly as possible, but she knew every movement had to be an agony for him.

Cady laid him across the back seat, tucking his legs in after him. The black dagger clattered to the pavement from the movement, and she realized he'd been gripping it the whole time. As an afterthought, she tossed it on the floor by his feet, blood and all. His upholstery was screwed enough with the steady flow coming from his wounds.

Safe in the cocoon of the driver's seat with the engine running and the doors locked, Cady took a deep, cleansing breath. "You can do this," she said aloud, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Chapter Five

The farther away she got, the easier Cady found it to breathe, and her nerves settled enough for her to focus on the task at hand. Her eyes strayed often to the form lying across the back seats, but she didn't initiate any conversation with him, figuring he needed to rest, not answer the zillion questions churning around in her mind. This was so not where she'd though the evening would take her!

Once well away from the scene, she focused more on trying to find an elusive parking space near their apartment. There was a parking garage under the building itself, but it was too much to hope that he could afford one of the spaces – they had been known to command the same price as a studio apartment. Still, she had to try it after circling the block twice with no luck. After feeling around on the sunshade, she found a small square box and aimed it at the gate, tapping her toes in excitement when it started to roll up.

"We're here!" she called out with undisguised relief.

Ethan didn't stir, but moaned slightly when she pulled him out of the car. Somehow she managed to get him up to the fifth floor (thank God their building had an elevator!) and into his apartment. Barely able to keep him upright, she looked for a good place to set him down.

"Bedroom," he murmured, and she took it as a good sign that he seemed to know where they were. The layout of the apartment mirrored hers, one open living room/kitchen space and two bedrooms. The first door they passed was locked, but the master bedroom door stood open, his queen sized bed tidily made.

Worry puckered Cady's forehead once she set him down and watched the blood instantly seep out to stain his bed. "Do you have a first aid kit or something?" she asked, looking around for something to staunch the flow of blood. What little medical knowledge she had could fit into a thimble, but common sense told her they had to get pressure on the wound and the knife needed to come out. Well, what he really needed was the ER, but seeing as how that didn't seem to be an option, her own limited know how would have to do. "Ethan?" she prompted when he didn't answer. "First aid kit?"

"Bathroom," the single word escaped his lips.

Cady found the adjoining bathroom easily, already knowing the floor plan. Dropping to her knees in front of the single sink, she pawed through the cabinet before spotting a gray Tupperware container filled with medical supplies. Grabbing the whole thing, she brought it back to the bedroom.

"Okay, let's see what we've got in here," she said aloud, digging through the kit. Gauze, scissors, Band-aids... mostly suited for smaller wounds, but she'd have to make do. "You know we have to take that knife out," she said softly, her eyes darting to his face to see if he could still hear her.

"S'too bad, starting to get used to it," he replied, though his eyes were still closed. Surprised he had the strength to joke, she took it as a good sign and tried to keep things light.

"Let me know, I could try to work around it. It might be a nice place to hang your keys. Could make it tough to go through metal detectors, so you'll have to drive everywhere from now on," she chattered, peeling back the sodden layer of his coat and cutting away the shirt with the scissors she found in the kit.

"Drive..." he wheezed, and she realized it was a laugh cut off by a grimace of pain.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to make you laugh," she winced in sympathy. "Try not to talk unless you have to." Once she got a better look at the wound, she started to think she was in way over her head though. "That's going to soak right through the gauze," she blanched.

"Towel... over gauze," he instructed, sounding like he'd done this before. There would be plenty of time to think on that later, for the moment Cady was too busy steeling herself for having to inflict more pain on him in his current state.

"Towels, gotcha. I'll be right back, don't move a muscle."

"Be right here," he promised, his eyes opening briefly to scan her face before sliding shut again.

Cady was back in two shakes with a stack of fluffy white towels under her arm. And then it was go time. No more lame attempts at humor, no more pleas to call for a real doctor, she had to suck it up and pull the damn thing out. "We'll do this on the count of three," she warned, receiving his curt nod. Carefully, she placed the gauze near the wound and held the towel in position.

"One..." You can do this... "Two..." The hand poised over the knife started to shake, and she made a tight fist and released it. "Three." The last word came out barely a whisper as she pulled the knife out as straight as she could manage, letting it clatter to the floor in her haste to get the gauze and towel over the wound. Ethan made no sound except for a series of short, staccato breaths like he was in childbirth. At least until she applied pressure with both hands and he let out a howl of pain.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," Cady repeated, eyes tearing slightly in sympathy. "Just try not to move," she added unnecessarily, as if he didn't already know that. Though it might have been a blessing for him to pass out, she was glad he was still conscious. It was a good sign that he hadn't lost too much blood, wasn't it? Feeling like she was in way over her head, she held steady on the towel until the bleeding showed signs of slowing. It was bad though, really bad. What he needed was stitches, and probably not only on the surface.

"I really think we should get you to the hospital," she said softly.

"No, the worst is over. Now that it's out, I'm already feeling better," Ethan replied, and his voice did sound stronger.

"I think you're overestimating the body's ability to heal," Cady shook her head. "And there's the chance of infection, not to mention internal damage to your organs."

"It'll be fine," he insisted stubbornly. "But I need you to do a couple of things for me."

"You mean besides keeping you from bleeding to death?" she snorted. "Sure, what is it?"

"I need you to get the duct tape from the hall closet, and the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge."

"Are you sure a tea party is what you need right now?" She raised a single brow.

He gave something between a cough and a laugh. "You were right about infection, the wound has to be cleansed. The tea has... antibacterial properties."

"Do you have any booze? That would probably work better." At least it always did in the movies. "I could run next door and see what we have on hand," she offered.

"No, thank you. The tea will be fine."

"Oh, and the tannins, I getcha."

He stared at her blankly.

"The tannins in the tea, they promote blood clotting, I get it." At least she remembered reading something to that effect.

"Right," he said slowly, and she had the impression he wasn't sure what she was talking about. That explained the need for tea, but duct tape? It took her half a moment to figure out what it was for, but then it made perfect sense.

"Sure, I can get you those things, but do you think you can hold on to this by yourself?" she asked doubtfully.

"I'll manage."

"Okay, I'll be right back." Picking up his hand and placing it over the towel, she rose and scurried off to get the items he needed, her sandals sliding on the scuffed hardwood floor. The duct tape was harder to find than she would have liked, and she slipped it over her wrist like a bracelet, then headed for the kitchen to grab the pitcher of tea.

This was going to be messy.

"Are you still with me, Ethan?" she asked, finding his eyes closed again when she returned.

"Yes." Ethan reached blindly for her, and she grabbed his hand, sitting on the bed beside him. His eyes opened, the pupils large and dilated, nearly swallowing the bright blue irises. "You'll have to pry the wound open and wash it out good. Don't worry about hurting me, you have to make sure you get it all out."

She didn't like the sound of that one bit. Was he worried about cross contamination from Claudio's blood? Somehow she didn't think tea would be enough. "Get what all out?"

"The rust."

"The knife was rusty?" Cady kicked at it with the edge of her sandal, but it was too crusted with blood to tell. "Why would you carry a rusty knife?"

"Not important." He let go of her hand to wave it away. "Can you do that? Clean it out well? Use gauze to swab it clean if you have to."

Ick. "Yeah, I can do that," she pledged, with more confidence than she felt. Grabbing another of the towels, she placed it by his side to catch the worst of the runoff from the tea. "We'll go on three again," Cady decided, glad when his head tilted back again and his eyes slid shut. She didn't want to have to look him in the eye when she hurt him again.

This time she didn't hesitate on the count, pulling the bloody towel aside and pouring the cold tea across the wound. It had already started to clot, and the tea washed away crusty chunks of blood and worse, the wound bleeding freely again. How was this a good plan?

Ethan's body tensed as the cold liquid hit him, and his breath came in controlled pants again as he fought through the pain. The liquid fizzed in certain places, almost like hydrogen peroxide, but the more she poured on, the less it bubbled. True to her promise, Cady pried open the wound, watching carefully as she poured more tea over it. If there were flakes of rust in there, she couldn't see them, but she kept pouring until two thirds of the pitcher was gone.

"There, I think that's good." She took in a long breath, pressing a fresh square of gauze to the wound. The towels were a soggy mess, and she tossed them on the floor where they landed with a wet slap.

"Thank you," he groaned, his voice sounding very far away and she thought he might pass out.

"Ethan? Are you still with me?" she prompted. "I need you to sit up if I'm going to get this tape on." Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to get enough pressure on the wound. She had to wind it around his torso, similar to taping broken ribs. "Ethan, can you hear me?"

His eyes popped open again, a little too widely. "Cady?"

"I'm here," she reached for his hand again. "Did you understand me? I need you to sit up a little, can you do that?" If not, she'd have to figure something else out.

"Yes," he groaned again, pushing himself up. Not quite ready for the movement, she grabbed the roll of duct tape, which still hung around her wrist like a loose bracelet.

"Good, you're doing great," the encouraging words slipped out, and Cady continued the litany of praise while she applied a fresh piece of gauze and tape, winding it around him carefully. Luckily, he was not a hairy man. His chest was smooth and muscled; it wouldn't be too painful to remove the tape when the time came. "There now, it's over. Lie back and rest," she said with gentle pressure at his shoulder when she was done.

"I need to drink first," Ethan protested, his hand weakly reaching for the pitcher of tea.

"Oh, sure," she nodded. "Do you want me to get you a glass?"

"No, thank you." His fingers closed over the handle of the pitcher. "This is fine." Cady helped him, holding the bottom steady while he drank and drank.

"Thirsty, huh?" she commented when he fell back against the pillows. There was maybe an inch of the tea left in the pitcher. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip as she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. "Are you sure there isn't someone I can call... someone who can take care of you?"

His eyes opened again, but she wasn't sure he saw her. "No, thank you."

That seemed to be his default answer. "Ethan... tea aside, if you've damaged something internally..."

His hand sought hers again, finding it unerringly. "The worst of it is over, I'm sure of it. All I need now is rest."

"If you say so," Cady replied dubiously, continuing to chew on her bottom lip. Besides the stab wound, there were a network of older bruises across his torso, some fresher than others, as though he'd been in multiple fights. Who was this man? All at once she remembered the stab wound through his other hand, and muttered few choice curse words.

"What is it, what's wrong?" His head lifted off the pillow.

"No, shhh, relax. I just realized we forgot to do something about your hand. That's got to be at least as bad as this wound." Maybe worse. The knife had gone completely through the center of his palm.

"It's fine." He made a fist around the strip of bandage he'd already tied there, dropping it out of her reach.

"It can't be fine, you completely skewered it. Let me see your hand."

Ethan held the hand away stubbornly, meeting her gaze, exhaustion warring with stubbornness. "It's fine."

"Alright, it's fine," she allowed, giving up. "Don't blame me if your hand turns all gangreney and diseased and you have to have it cut off." She picked up the remnants of the medical supplies tossing them into the plastic container. "What do I know? I'm just the person who patched you back together again."

"It'll be fine." There was a hint of amusement in his voice this time, and when she looked up at him, the remainder of a smile tilted his lips, though his eyes slid shut again. Watching him with his eyes closed, Cady took the opportunity to study him, now that she wasn't scrambling to take care of him.

Obviously he took care of himself, as there wasn't a spare ounce on him. His chest was broad and well muscled, tapering to the ridges of a toned abdomen, a light dusting of golden hair trailing from his navel and disappearing into the top of his jeans. His arms and shoulders bulged with quiet strength, even in repose, and the cut of his jaw was lean under the facial scruff. He was older than she was, at least twenty five or six, but that was the usual for guys she ended up meeting in clubs. Had she thought before he wasn't conventionally handsome? He wasn't the pretty boy type, but there was something about him. Overall, not bad... not bad at all.

His bed was a sticky mess of drying blood and tea, his skin worse. She thought about cleaning him up better, but decided to let him get the rest he so badly needed. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, she rose from the bed, but his hand chased after her, calling her back.

"What is it? Do you need something?" she asked softly, when he didn't speak at first.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"Me?" Cady blinked in surprise that he'd be worried about her with how messed up he was. "No, I'm fine. I don't think I'll be sleeping without nightmares for a while, but yeah, all things considered, I'm okay."

"Good." He relaxed, grip loosening, his voice becoming lighter, floating. "Good."

Lips curving into a soft smile, Cady held onto his hand a bit longer. "I'm glad you're okay too," she replied, watching him drift off.

Chapter Six

Revenge.

Asherik drifted, little more than his need for revenge keeping him tethered to reality. In brighter times he'd lost himself for years in this state – floating, buffeted by unseen winds. Time usually held little meaning in the formless space, but he was aware of the press of time now, the need to return to the realm of the physical. Only through the physical world could he exact his revenge on the reaper. Only through the physical world could he finish what he had started. But he was not limited to the physical world.

Oh no.

There were other pleasures to be enjoyed in his current state. There were ways to gather his strength, to prepare for the taking of another human form. The dreamstate bridged the gap between the physical and the void, and he sought it now, hardly caring whose dreams he invaded. Later, when he had absorbed enough power, he would seek her out. Not a quick death, not an easy one. Her suffering would be the key to his renewed vigor and he would destroy the reaper once and for all.

There would be no stopping him.

Ash had only to appear and the lovely miss whose dream he invaded came into his arms with a sigh of longing. Her passion fed his weakened state, her fear fed his need. It wouldn't be long and he could return to the physical world. The thought made him smile against pallid skin, surprisingly tender for a change. Instead of pain he brought bliss in his wake, and to his astonishment, it fed him just as well as terror.

Slipping away, he sought another, and another, his hunger knowing no bounds until Ash felt the power crackling all around him, waiting and ready for him to take form. Revenge waited for him like a bright, shining thing, only wanting for him to choose a new body.

So why did he float now and dream of chasing long, auburn hair?

* * *

Cady sat holding his hand until she was sure he was good and out, not wanting to disturb his rest. Ethan didn't so much as twitch when she got up though, dead to the world for all intents and purposes. Moving through the room slowly, she cleaned up the mess of bloody towels and gauze, watching him carefully, but Ethan didn't budge.

There was a sort of weariness that had seeped into her bones, but Cady didn't think she could sleep. Instead she tossed the bloody mess into the tub and rinsed them out as best she could, though she didn't think the fluffy towels would ever be white again. Only when she straightened and noticed the smear of blood on the outside of the tub did she remember that she was covered in the stuff herself.

The bathroom mirror was covered by a white rectangle of cloth she hadn't noticed before in her haste, but she pulled it free now, staring at herself in the mirror.

What a mess.

Her hands were scrubbed clean, and she'd gotten her arms free of the blood while rinsing the towels, but the rest of her looked like she'd barely survived a chainsaw massacre. She'd had her shoulder under Ethan's propping him up on the way to the car, and that entire side was smeared with his blood. Her hair was matted and clumped in places too, and her clothes were completely stained. The cut across her collarbone looked angry and raw, liberally smeared with more blood. Hers? Claudio's? Ethan's? Whose blood, she had no idea.

Grabbing a wash cloth, she dabbed at it carefully, wincing as it stung the more she probed at it. Once it was reasonably clean, the wound started to ooze again, and Cady stared at it, worried about infection. Chewing on her lip, she decided to try and wash it out with the tea, figuring it couldn't hurt. Padding quietly into the bedroom, she picked up the pitcher, and as an afterthought, carefully eased open a couple of his drawers, borrowing a t-shirt and a pair of workout shorts.

Stripping down to her panties, she considered hopping into the shower, but she was afraid it might wake him, and it was weird to think about showering in a complete stranger's bathroom. Though, was Ethan really a stranger anymore? Cady didn't think so.

She never once considered going home to change into her own clothes. Sticking around seemed like the right thing to do; Ethan might need her help at any moment. Instead, she cleaned up over the bathroom sink, rinsing out her hair, and winding it up out of the way in a messy bun. The tea stung like a bastard on the open wound, and she gaped at herself in the mirror, biting her lip to keep from swearing out loud. How could Ethan stand it? The pain faded after a few minutes, and she covered the deep scratch with a couple of Band-aids.

Deciding she could use a drink herself, she took a sip of the remaining tea, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Ugh, what kind of tea is this?" she muttered. How did he drink the stuff? Rinsing her mouth out with water from the tap, the bitter taste lingered, and her mouth felt... funny. Were her lips numb? It was probably her imagination, because the effect quickly vanished, and she felt no worse for wear.

A quick glance at her phone showed a text from Penny declaring she'd arrived home safe and sound. It was just after midnight; she still had a couple of hours before Ian came home and wondered where she was. Time enough to wash out her clothes and hang them up to dry in his bathroom. She thought the black tank top might survive, but the jeans were hopelessly ruined unless she soaked them in more blood to even out the color. Ick.

Done scrubbing for the moment, she ventured out into the rest of his apartment, satisfying her curiosity about the man. Though the layout was identical to hers, with the same scarred hardwoods, cheap linoleum and the tiny appliances, that's where the similarity ended. Where the apartment Cady shared with her brother was overflowing with clutter, magazines, half finished craft projects mixed in with Ian's books, and movie posters fighting for available wall space, Ethan's place was minimalist by comparison.

The walls were completely bare, as were all the surfaces, even the battered coffee table. A quick peek in the kitchen cupboards showed very little in the way of cookware, and only two plates, two bowls, a handful of silverware. It was a bachelor kitchen to the extreme, utilitarian, with little more than a can opener and a spatula in the drawers. The fridge held two more pitchers of tea and sandwich fixings, the usual condiments, and an old Styrofoam container of Mexican food, past its prime.

There were no spices in the cupboards, nothing to indicate he knew how to cook at all, but plenty of snack foods in the small pantry, and the freezer was packed with frozen meals. The good stuff. Marie Callenders, pizza... the stuff Cady only got to buy when it was on sale. Her fingers traced over the carton of Ben & Jerry's Fudge Brownie she found in the freezer door, but she wasn't all that hungry, not really.

A worn leather couch and flat screen TV dominated the living room, two extra bookshelves flanking the custom built entertainment center. Crammed on each shelf were DVD cases for movies of every conceivable genre.

"Jackpot," she murmured. Cady loved movies. Loved them. She went every chance she got, which unfortunately, wasn't all that often. Her own movie collection was much smaller, and she hated having to wait for DVD's to hit the bargain bin before she could snap them up. Ian had reduced their Netflix account to streaming only when his hours got cut at work, and it killed her to miss out on all the new releases.

Plucking out the new Bourne flick, she popped it into the DVD player and settled back to watch the movie with the sound turned low. Two hours later, she rose with a stretch and went to check on her patient. Ethan looked like he hadn't moved an inch since she'd left him, and for one fleeting moment, she froze in fear until she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. Worried he might be feverish, she gently laid a hand to his brow, but he wasn't overly warm.

Ethan didn't stir at all at the touch, nor when she gently tugged his boots off. Once she had the boots free, his socks followed, and then she thought he might be more comfortable if he wasn't wearing his jeans. Watching him closely, she carefully undid his pants, and he didn't raise any objection as she inched them down his legs.

Not bad at all...

Catching herself ogling the man in his skivvies, she briefly considered removing the boxer briefs as well, they were blood stained after all, but decided that might be pushing things too far. Instead, she found a blanket in the hall closet and covered him with it.

Briefly, she considered lying down beside him to catch forty winks herself, but decided against it. She had to think about going home soon or Ian would go ballistic. But Cady didn't want to leave yet. She wanted to be there when Ethan woke up, there were too many questions brewing in the back of her mind after the night's events.

Settling onto the couch, she put the movie on again, this time with the director's commentary, but her own thoughts soon overran the muted voices on the screen.

What was the deal between Ethan and Claudio? What was with the weird chanting and stabbing his own hand? Why had he followed them in the first place? And why had Ethan been so afraid Claudio might come back?

Without realizing it, Cady drifted off to sleep, dreaming of dark eyes, and a whispered voice at her ear, murmuring things she couldn't quite catch. It was a fitful rest and she startled awake, the display on the screen reading twenty minutes past six a.m. – Ian was going to flip his shit.

Checking her phone, Cady saw she had a half dozen texts from him and two missed calls, but it was too late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) for her to risk waking him. Besides, the damage was done. More than likely he was passed out asleep and she could get her ass handed back to her later. Much later.

A quick peek into Ethan's bedroom found him sprawled with one arm thrown over his eyes, and she realized she'd left the lights on. She flipped them off now, but with the sky already growing lighter, it didn't make much difference. Feeling hung over, she padded into the bathroom, blinking at her ashy complexion revealed in stark detail under the harsh overhead light.

"Sexy," she grimaced, rubbing the crust of sleep away from her eyes. Leaning over to wash her face, she had to dry it on her borrowed t-shirt, she'd used up all the towels the night before. Cady's eyes looked perkier once she was finished, but her overall pallor was... wrong. As if she'd hadn't been sunbathing on the roof every chance she got. It went with the pounding headache though, and she reached down to look under the cabinet for Tylenol or Advil, something to chase away the blahs.

A sharp pain at her shoulder brought Cady up short, halfway through the movement, and she tugged at the neckline of the damp t-shirt to inspect the cut there. Deep red marks radiated from the cut in spidery lines, about the diameter of a grapefruit. Carefully peeling back the bandaids revealed the cut itself was crusty and dark, nearly black at the center.

"That's never good," she murmured, studying the wound with equal parts awe and revulsion. The skin was warm to the touch, but not feverish. Cady wondered how it didn't hurt more now that she got a good look at it, but it only stung when she extended her arm too far. A quick search of the drawers turned up a half used tube of antiseptic ointment, and Cady smeared it all over the wound with the tip of her finger, scrubbing her hands furiously once finished.

Of course if her small cut was so bad off, she couldn't imagine what state she might find Ethan in, and she slipped into the bedroom to get a better look at him under the blanket. Carefully, she reached for the blanket, but she'd only managed to peel it back a few inches when he grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. In one swift movement, he had her wrist pinned above her head, his body half covering hers, a knife pressed to her throat.

"Whoa... it's me," she squeaked, holding as still as she could manage.

Ethan's eyes lost some of their wildness as recognition set in. "Cady?"

"You were expecting someone else?" she asked, offering a wan smile.

"Shit." He fell back against the bed, the knife disappearing back under his pillow before pressing both palms to his eyes. "What time is it?"

"About six-thirty." Cady swallowed, taking a deep breath before she rolled over onto her good shoulder to face him. "I came to check on your wounds, which you probably just tore open again, by the way. How are you feeling?"

"I'm naked," he observed, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath.

"Yep," she gave him a sheepish smile. "Well, not completely."

"You undressed me?"

He looked amused by the idea, as if that might be too much for her to handle after everything else she'd done for him the night before. "You were all bloody, I thought you might rest better without them. Which, case in point, you obviously slept so well, you completely forgot I was here or that you've been mortally wounded."

"I told you, it's not that bad," he snorted. "I'll be slower for a few days, but I'll mend."

"I still want to get a good look at the wound, make sure it's not infected."

"It's fine," he insisted, pushing himself up to a seated position on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with hardly a grimace. It shocked her to see how easily he moved after just a few hours. "You should think about going home, your brother's probably worried sick."

"He'll be fine, it's not like this is the first time I haven't come home before." At his raised brow, she felt the need to explain. "I don't mean like that. I mean if we're out and it gets too late, sometimes I'll go home with one of my friends if it's closer." Though usually she did send Ian a text with a heads up.

"Still, it's probably time for you to go."

Cady's brows drew together in a deep frown as she sat up, scooting to the foot of the bed. He was awfully eager for her to leave. "Fine, Mr. Grateful, I'll go. But not before I get another look at your side."

"It's really not necessary..."

"Hey, I'm not letting you die of gangrene after all the hard work I did, dragging your sorry ass up here. Now stop being such a baby and let me take a look!" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Alright, fine, if I let you change the bandage will you leave?"

"I'd be happy to," she smiled sweetly, relishing her triumph as she retrieved the first aid kit, withdrawing the scissors and the box of gauze. If she saw one trace of infection, she was going to call 911 on his ass and get him some medical attention whether he liked it or not. She'd probably have to go wait in line at the free clinic later herself, but she pushed that unpleasant thought from her mind, focusing on the task at hand.

"You know, you could be a little more understanding. All I'm trying to do is make sure you're alright." Ethan made no response, his eyes closed, but she was pretty sure he was still listening to her. "It's the least I can do at any rate. I mean, I owe you my life. Thank you for that, by the way."

"It's my job. Besides, you already repaid the debt by bringing me back here and patching me up, we're even."

"I don't think that makes us even," she shook her head, tugging at the sticky tape. "Without you I would have gone with him." Joyfully, without objection. It scared the hell out of her. Cady swallowed past the sudden dryness in her mouth. "I would have..."

"It's not your fault."

"I know."

"You do?" His eyes popped open.

"Of course I do, I'm not stupid. I know he used some kind of hypnotism on me. I don't do things like that, and Penny especially doesn't do things like that." The tape came free on one side and she made another cut on the other, as gently as she could. "What would he have done to me if you hadn't been there?" Ethan didn't answer, and she looked away from her task to watch him until he looked back at her. "Would he have killed me?"

"If you were one of the lucky ones."

Another swallow, Cady nodded, focusing her attention back to the tape. The other edge came free, and she carefully peeled it back, grabbing a clean square of gauze at the ready in case it bled all over. The injury gave no sign of bleeding or tearing open at disturbing the bandage, a thick scab having formed over the wound. The skin around it was pink and healthy, though flecks of dried blood clung in a few places.

"This looks pretty good," she breathed in relief, examining it closely. "Really good." Not that she was an expert, but she would have thought it would take a lot longer to knit together without stitches. At the very least she expected a trickle of blood or clear fluid, based on her own experiences with cuts and scrapes. The older bruises she'd seen the night before were all but faded as well.

"I'm a fast healer," Ethan shrugged, grabbing the free edge of the tape and pulling the rest of it off his back and other side.

"Yeah, but..." Cady watched his movements. He didn't so much as wince at the way his body twisted when he removed the tape, and he had to be using his abdominal muscles to hold the position. And the way he'd flipped her onto the bed, that had taken real strength, and it hadn't aggravated his injury at all. "This is pretty fast."

Ethan lay back against the pillows again. "I thought you wanted me to get better fast."

"I do. It's just..." She grabbed hold of his hand, tugging at the knot of fabric. "I want to look at your hand too." Ethan sat through it patiently, offering no explanation when she found the ridges of scar tissue on both sides of his hand, but no trace of a fresh injury at all. "I don't understand."

His hand covered hers, blue eyes clear and bright. "I'm a fast healer."

Distracted by the touch, Cady looked down as his thumb passed over the back of her hand. There were too many questions about this man. "Would you really have gone through me to get to him?"

If she'd been hoping to shock him into an honest answer, Ethan gave no sign of being rattled by the quick change in subject. "Those were just words. I couldn't let him think you meant anything to me."

"Did I mean anything to you?"

"You didn't," he admitted readily and she looked down at their joined hands.

"And now?"

His thumb made a slow circle and then withdrew. "Now, I think that tea is starting to catch up with me." Ethan gave a lopsided grin revealing even, white teeth. Without waiting for a response he pushed himself out of bed, steady on his feet, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Cady flopped back on the bed for a moment, feeling flushed over the near-moment they'd sort of almost shared. Despite the fact that he kept ordering her to leave, he also kept reaching for her hand, that had to mean something.

"You did my laundry?" His voice came out of the bathroom and she couldn't help but smile over the shock in his voice.

"Don't get all excited, it was a one time thing. And I don't iron," she called back to him.

"Thanks," he chuckled. The toilet flushed, then running water. Just when she started to get her hopes up that he might change his mind and ask her to stick around for a while, the next words that floated out to her were less than encouraging. "I think you should probably get moving and go home."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," she grumbled. "I won't stay where I'm not wanted." With a heave, she lurched to her feet, the room dipping and swaying as she lost her balance. Clutching at the bedside table, she missed it, and fell back against the bed. "Ethan?" she called out, a tinge of fear creeping into her voice as the room continued to spin.

"I mean it, Cady. Not that I'm not appreciative, because I am. It's just... it's for the best."

"Something's..." Cady swallowed, her vision narrowing to a pinprick of light as the darkness encroached. "...wrong."

Chapter Seven

Her sudden silence made Ethan wonder if she'd taken him at his word and left, but he couldn't bring himself to believe she'd go that easily without saying goodbye. Not after making so much fuss about being allowed to stay. Somehow, Cady struck him as the type of girl who didn't like to give up without a fight, and he could admit, he kind of liked that about her. Part of him wanted her to stick around and fuss over him; he wanted it very much. But it was a bad idea that could only end in disaster, so he geared himself up to do what he had to in order to send her packing.

Ethan came out of the bathroom, expecting another argument. When he spotted her sprawled across his bed, he figured she must be exhausted. But better she get rested up in her own bed where it was safer. "Hey, time to get up." He tapped her foot, frowning when she didn't respond.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he tried again, shaking her foot harder. Nothing. Brows drawing together into a single line, he approached the side of the bed, only then noticing the beads of sweat across her forehead. His hands were cool from the bathroom sink but she felt hot to him as he touched her cheek. Too hot. Feverish. "Shit," he breathed, shaking her by the shoulders, which drew a moan from her lips. Had she been wounded somewhere and he'd missed it?

Careful to preserve her modesty as best he could, he examined her from head to toe, the bare legs making an easier job of it. When he got to the nastiness on her shoulder, he sucked in a breath. This was bad, real bad. An infection from the looks of it, but something tugged at the edge of his memory, he'd seen it before.

"Cady, can you hear me?" he asked gently, easing her up higher on the bed, away from the stained mess he'd left the night before. She gave no response. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom, he laid a cold compress to her forehead, before he fired up his laptop, not quite knowing what he was searching for.

Instinctively, he knew there was no point in taking her to the hospital; it wasn't a normal infection. All they'd do was shoot her up with antibiotics, but that wouldn't touch the root of the problem.

Pictures... he knew he'd seen a picture of something similar before. It could be anywhere, a previous search on the net, maybe not even on the same computer, but Ethan doggedly searched through his history for anything that sounded of a similar vein. Cady shifted restlessly on the bed, and he looked up, his frustration palpable. What if he was wrong? What if it was a normal infection and by keeping her there, he was killing her?

Briefly, he considered taking her next door, dropping her in her brother's lap to make it his problem. She was nothing to him, and he had very little time before the demon jumped to the next body. It wasn't his problem, he'd already saved her once. She wasn't his responsibility and he had plenty to do to clean up the mess he'd made the night before. Washing his hands of her would be the easiest thing to do.

Instead he got up and dipped the cloth in cool water, pressing it to her flushed cheeks, drawing it across the slope of her neck before replacing it on her brow. The dark web of infection was now visible from the neckline of the t-shirt like an intricate tattoo.

Tattoo.

Was it that simple?

Snatching up the laptop, he opened the folder for case files, scanning back to the first folder, labeled Genesis. Not a case, but documentation of his own process. It had been years since he'd sorted through the pictures, though he regularly added to it when he picked up a new glyph. Ignoring the documents, he scanned the pictures, back to the older ones. The ones taken by the Company.

There they were. The series of tattoos down his back, one by one. Stills of the result, but not the process. There was nothing in the pictures to differentiate them from any other tattoos received in a regular parlor, nothing to indicate there was anything out of the ordinary.

Ethan's eye caught what he was looking for, a single picture showing him lying on his stomach soon after the ritual. The line of symbols tattooed into his back bore the same network of diseased lines radiating out from them. It was a shadowed blur to him, time dulling the memory of pain. By the time he'd woken, the transformation was complete, his skin healthy, but permanently marked, binding him to a single purpose. But the pictures captured his body's reaction to the foreign substance, those same dark tracks as his body fought off the infection.

She'd been poisoned by demon blood.

If he was right, there was nothing modern medicine could do to save her, she either would survive it on her own, or she wouldn't. When he'd been marked, the process was controlled, the rituals binding the demon's power with his, directing it, harnessing it. But her exposure was under no such guidance, and to his knowledge, such a thing was extremely rare. Most victims exposed to a demon in any form didn't survive the encounter.

It was his duty to report it. The Company would want to know, possibly have him take steps.

Ethan turned on his heel, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable decision, but he was thirsty. His side pulled painfully when he lifted the pitcher of tea from the fridge, but it could have been a lot worse. One, two, three tall glasses of tea disappeared as he gulped thirstily, standing nearly naked in the kitchen, a strange girl in his bed.

It was a new situation for him, and Ethan disliked change in general. There were too many unknown factors in his job. He liked his home life to be as neat and orderly as possible.

He'd seen her around the building, of course, he wasn't that much of a monk. Some of the things she wore when going out with her friends... they made a man sit up and take notice, disciplined or not. The walls were thin, sometimes he heard her laughter when he was trying to focus. The annoyance at the interruptions had soured his opinion of her, but seeing her up close and personal... she was so full of life. How long had he spent in the company of death, ignoring everything but the hunt?

Realizing he'd found his way back to the bedroom again to stare down at her, Ethan took in the delicate arch of her brow, the siren's hair already starting to fight the control she'd imposed in her efforts to bind it away. The shapely legs, her slender form masked by the baggy t-shirt and shorts; she seemed impossibly small and frail, nothing like the woman who'd hauled him back to the apartment in his time of need.

There was something about seeing her dressed in his clothes that he found sexier than the skimpy club wear. It made him think of what it would be like to wake up to glorious, fiery hair mussed with sleep, her eyes half lidded and drowsy. To see her padding through his apartment in a t-shirt and nothing else.

"Not for you, buddy," he reminded himself, turning away. But why not? Why should he have to live like a priest? The vows he'd taken were far from holy. She was a friendly thing, and tough too. Not too many girls her age would have pulled a knife out of him and managed to bandage him up like that without falling apart. Why not? Except he knew exactly why it was such a bad idea.

He really needed to call and check in.

Ethan took a long, hot shower, washing away the remnants of his failure, covering the mirror out of habit after shaving even though it was still daylight out. Barely glancing at the girl, other than to make sure she wasn't worse, he dressed and forced down three more glasses of tea, even though he wasn't particularly thirsty anymore. Out of habit, he scoured the apartment, removing any traces of his blood or the demon's. Venturing out into the hallway, he did the same, checking for droplets of blood in the elevator and in the parking garage, retrieving his dague from the back seat of the car. The obsidian ritual dagger was sticky, but unharmed and he was glad she'd thought to bring it along.

The car was a bigger problem, his blood had seeped into the upholstery, but he put that off for another day. He was still moving a lot slower than he'd have liked, but he knew he was over the worst of it. Within a few days he wouldn't even have a scar to show for it.

Checking in on Cady, he thought the infection seemed better, but it was hard to tell. The sun was high in the sky, and the apartment sweltering hot, even with the windows all thrown open. Ethan busied himself cleaning his weapons and scouring the net for signs of the investigation into the body he'd left behind. A random knifing in the Tenderloin didn't merit the front page, but he found it in the crime section. The victim's identity hadn't been released yet, and details were few, but the police boasted several promising leads.

He really needed to call and check in.

Two more glasses of tea brought the end of the pitcher, and he brewed another pot of the potent concoction. Cady seemed less restless, sleeping peacefully. Her skin no longer held the sheen of sweat, though that could have been the cooling coastal breeze coming in through the bedroom window. The stain at her shoulder definitely showed signs of improvement though, the spidery tracks more red than black, about the radius of a tennis ball.

He really needed to call and check in.

Ethan fished out his cell phone, dialing the number without looking. "Shaw," he said succinctly, waiting through a series of clicks as he was transferred.

"Identify." The feminine voice came on the line, passionless as a machine.

"Shaw, sector twelve, number six five six zero nine."

"Acknowledged, Shaw, sector twelve, number six five six zero nine," she replied. "Report."

"Currently still in pursuit of subject Q. Subject was identified and pursued, but the host was destroyed."

"Casualties?"

"Only the host. I sustained injuries of a non-critical nature." Ethan downplayed the severity of the injury, knowing he couldn't appear weak.

"Do you require assistance?"

"No, it's fine, I've got it under control. Standard protocols are still in effect. Estimate it will be two to three days before I can pick up the trail again."

There was silence on the line, but Ethan knew better than to speak. "Any complications?"

His gaze fell to the girl sleeping on the bed. Now was the time to come clean. "No, ma'am. No complications."

Chapter Eight

Cady's eyes popped open, her breath whistling past her teeth as she startled awake. Not her room. Not her bed. Not her clothes. All at once it came flooding back like a vivid nightmare. The altercation in the parking lot, the blood. Dark eyes.

Ethan.

The man in question sat sprawled in a chair in the corner of the room, laptop perched precariously on his knee. His head tipped forward, eyes closed. He'd showered and changed into a pair of faded jeans and an open button up shirt over a white wifebeater. He'd even shaved. It made him look younger, more normal, she supposed. If a guy who'd taken a knife in the side and walked around the next morning could be called normal.

Was it morning? The last thing she remembered was waking him up to check on his wounds just after six, but the sun blazing through the windows told her it was much, much later. Late afternoon, maybe three or four? How had she ended up in his bed?

Shifting slightly, Cady sat up, pushing the tangle of hair out of her face. His head snapped up at the movement, eyes instantly alert and clear, muscles tensed for danger like a jungle predator. "Hi," she said softly, not sure what mood she'd find him in. Hadn't he been asking her to leave?

"You're awake," he stated unnecessarily, proving his mind wasn't quite as caught up as his body's instincts.

"Yep, looks that way." He didn't reply to that. Taking it as a bad sign, she swung her feet to the floor. "I'll go ahead and get out of your hair." Cady looked up to find him blocking her path.

"Hey, slow down, take it easy. You've been out of it all day. How are you feeling?"

Surprised at the genuine concern she found, Cady did a quick check, flexing her arms and legs. "I'm... okay, I think." Remembering the spreading wound at her collarbone, she tugged at the t-shirt, but it was hard to get a good look at it. "What happened?"

"You had a bit of an infection, but it's better now. Are you thirsty? You must be."

"Yes," she swallowed. "I could use a drink. Anything but that tea. No offense, but it's gross."

"You drank some?" he frowned, surprised.

"Just a sip, why?"

"No reason. Stay there, I'll bring you some water."

"Okay, thanks." Cady settled back against the bed again, fluffing the pillows to a comfortable reclined position. Gingerly, she probed the skin around her neck and shoulder, but there was just a hint of tenderness, the scab a thin purple line. Maybe she'd just dreamed that part up? Maybe she'd dreamed it all up? Maybe she'd hooked up with Ethan at Inferno and was sleeping off a massive hangover? He sure didn't move like a man who'd been brutally stabbed. The bed showed no bloodstains on the sheets. Or had he just changed them while she slept?

"Here you go." Ethan offered the tall glass, tap water, but Cady didn't care. It tasted cool and sweet, and she gulped it all down without stopping to breathe. "I'll get you another glass." He reached to take it from her and Cady caught his hand.

"What's this?" she frowned, turning it over. An intricate tattoo covered the back of his hand, disappearing under the sleeve of his thin, cotton shirt. He hadn't had a tattoo the night before, she was sure of it.

His lips moved, but she didn't hear what he said until he turned his head away. "It's nothing."

"No... hold on a sec. Seriously, where did this come from?" The glass forgotten, she tugged at the loose sleeve, noticing how the design curved, coiling around the inside of his arm as it continued up towards his bicep.

"It's just a tattoo, it's not a big deal."

"Ordinarily I'd agree with you, but you did not have this last night."

"Of course I did." Ethan laughed weakly.

Cady tugged at his shirt, practically tearing it from his shoulders. "What the...?" There were more of them. Another tattoo on his shoulder, and another peeping from the neckline of his undershirt, over his right pec.

"I told you, they're just tattoos, it's not a big deal." He tugged his shirt free from her grasp, wadding it up and tossing it into the hamper in the closet.

"But where did they come from?"

"Where do you think? The tattoo parlor. Where did you get yours?" he challenged.

Cady didn't even bother to glance down to the butterfly she had tattooed near her left wrist. "You seriously expect me to believe I just missed them last night?" She'd seen every inch of his exposed torso. Maybe she'd been too freaked out to get a good look at his back, but his arms and chest? Definitely not. "What kind of an idiot do you take me for?"

"I don't know what to tell you," he scowled. "I didn't rush out and get tattooed today."

"I'm not saying you did."

"What are you saying then?" His blue eyes hardened to an icy stare.

"I don't know." Cady fell back against the bed, hating that she couldn't articulate the suspicion and frustration bubbling in the back of her brain. The past twenty-four hours had been weird, but how could she not have noticed them?

Ethan left the room, clutching the glass. The sound of running water floated back to her, but he didn't reappear with a refill. "If you're feeling better, you should probably head on home," he called from the kitchen.

"That didn't take long," she muttered, letting out a long breath. Pushing herself out of bed, Cady found she was a little lightheaded, like she needed to eat, but otherwise fine. "You seem to be feeling much better yourself," she commented, leaning against the breakfast bar while he washed, dried and put away the glass. "Do you want to tell me why that is?"

"I told you, I'm a fast healer." He didn't bother to turn around, and she could see the tension in his shoulders.

Whatever was going on he wasn't talking, so she switched to the next sensitive subject to see how he reacted. "We should probably figure out what we're going to tell the police."

That made him stop and turn around. "No police."

"But they'll be investigating what happened in that parking lot. There's bound to be evidence linking us there. Cameras on the streets, maybe a witness. You bled at the scene for chrissakes."

"This isn't CSI: San Francisco. Trust me, there's nothing to link either one of us to that parking lot."

He sounded awfully confident of that fact, but knowing a little something about the dogged determination of the police, she had to disagree. "It'll be a lot worse if they come to us before we go to them. As long as we tell the truth we'll be fine."

"Is that what you think?" he snorted.

"Of course I do. You saved me, there's nothing bad about that. Sure, we should have stuck around, but..."

Ethan cut her off, surprising her with his capitulation. "You're right. Go ahead, call the cops. Tell them I forced you away from the scene at gunpoint. Tell them anything you want." He brushed past her, retrieving a beat up, brown suitcase from the hall closet. "I won't be here by the time they come."

He meant it, she could tell. "What's going on?" she demanded, following him into the bedroom. Ethan ignored her, and she caught at his arm. "Tell me."

"I can't tell you," he said, easily shaking off her grip. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Maybe I'll surprise you?"

"You already have," Ethan allowed, a flicker of amusement lighting his features, replaced by a tightening of the lips as he returned to packing with neat precision.

Cady watched him, for the life of her unable to figure out what he was running from. "It's not a sign of weakness to ask for help, you know."

"I'm not weak."

"You're kinda missing the point." A roll of the eyes was given. "I'm not calling the police, okay? So you can stop packing up your sad little suitcase."

"My suitcase isn't sad," he frowned, puzzled by her word choice.

"Fine, it's not sad, but you are," she observed. It was easy to miss underneath the scowling and bluster, but it was there. "Why are you so sad?"

Ethan turned to her, his head canting to one side, as if he hadn't understood the words. "Do you always ask this many questions?"

"Yes." She'd been fearless in that regard for as long as she could remember and her father had encouraged the trait. How else was she supposed to find anything out?

"Are you sure about not calling the police? I can understand if you feel like you owe them something. You don't, by the way, they won't find out who killed that man. What really happened to him had nothing to do with you or me."

"Will you explain what that means?"

"It's better for you if I don't."

It killed her not to know. The rational part of her brain understood he was trying to protect her, not draw her in any deeper to whatever he was caught up in. She didn't care about her own safety, she needed to know. But Cady recognized that he'd take the answers with him if she forced his hand and sent him packing. It went against everything she believed in, but she nodded slowly. "I'm sure. I won't tell them or anyone else about what happened last night."

"It's your only chance to go to them, you understand that, right?" Ethan set down the shirt in his hand and asked her earnestly. "After this, they'll want to know why you didn't report it right away. They'll start to wonder what you're hiding. They'll find out that we're neighbors. Maybe someone saw us together at the club last night. They'll decide maybe I had you lure him out into the open. Maybe I'm your pimp and the trick wouldn't pony up the cash? Or maybe it was a straight up roll gone bad? Whatever crazy scheme they decide fits the crime, they'll try to make it stick."

"It's not like that..." Cady blanched. "They would never..."

Ethan held up his hands in a supplicating gesture. "I'm just saying I've seen it before. Clear whatever stardust you have covering your eyes over your papa's noble profession. In the real world, it's all about arrest rates. Convictions are someone else's problem. And don't get me started about justice."

"I understand," she said softly. "I won't go to the police, I promise." Not that she believed his cynical view of law enforcement, but she understood well enough that if she delayed, it would only throw her statement under more scrutiny. "Just promise me you won't go running off to God knows where."

"God wouldn't know where," he muttered, closing the suitcase flap.

"What?" she blinked.

"Nothing. Look, don't take this the wrong way, but you really should head home. I'm not saying I don't appreciate your help, but as you can see, I'm better now and I have work to do."

"Work that is like a cop, but not."

"Right."

Cady followed him back into the living room, but settled onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar instead of heading for the door. "If that guy is dead, why do you still have so much work to do? Doesn't getting stabbed call for a sick day?" She wasn't sure why she pressed him when he so obviously wanted her to leave, but something made her push back.

"Because that's not the only bad guy in the city. And I don't need to take a sick day, I feel fine."

"That's the best time to take a sick day," Cady beamed. "Why don't you let me dazzle you with my microwaving skills and we can watch a movie?" She looked at his TV with undisguised longing.

"A movie."

"Yeah, you know, moving pictures? Don't tell me you're not a fan, I saw your DVDs. I would kill for a collection like that. So, how about it?" She gave him her most winsome smile, knowing full well it suffered for not having showered or brushed her teeth yet.

"Cady... it's not a good idea."

Despite his words, she could tell he was starting to cave from the tone of his voice, and she closed in for the kill. "I'll even let you pick out the movie. Do you want some popcorn, or something more substantial?" Without waiting for his response, she went for the kitchen pantry, unerringly going for the box of popcorn she'd seen in there before. Ethan stared at her helplessly, but he didn't object when she tore open the box, or popped the package in the tiny microwave.

While it cooked, she disappeared into the bathroom to scrub her face and brush her teeth with a finger. The hair was hopelessly tangled, so she wound it back up into a knot, not looking forward to combing it out later. The rest of her didn't smell too badly and she changed back into her own clothes that were still hung up to dry in the bathroom. The mark on her shoulder was nothing more than a thin red line, no sign of any infection or even a scab.

Her phone had seven texts from Ian and three missed calls. Ouch. Cady debated calling him, but she was pretty sure she'd hear him yelling through the walls. Instead she sent a brief text. Relax, I'm fine. See you later tonight. Maybe she imagined it, but she thought she heard a thump, like something slamming against the wall next door. Yep, better to let him cool off a bit more.

By the time she came back out Ethan stood in front of one of the bookcases, a few DVD's pulled out an inch or so. Not bothering to hide her smile, she emptied the popcorn into a large bowl. Searching for, but not finding napkins, she grabbed a paper towel and tore it in two. Cady poured him a glass of iced tea and a glass of water for herself, juggling them all to set on the coffee table.

With his back to her, she could see the dark shapes of at least two more tattoos on Ethan's right shoulder blade, as well as a column of strange symbols down the center of his back through the thin undershirt. There wasn't a spot of color on any of the tattoos, they were all done in rich black, the style vaguely similar to tribal tattoos she'd seen before. Leaning forward, she studied the strange designs that almost reminded her of a foreign script, unlike any she'd ever seen before.

They could have been there the night before, she'd been more focused on his injuries than his back, but she was still convinced there was something strange going on with them. She'd examined his hand carefully because of the stab wound. There hadn't been any tattoos there at the time. None that she could see anyway.

"Alright," Ethan said abruptly, rubbing his hands together as he turned to face her. "I picked out a few for us to choose from. Are you more in the mood for action, or more of a thriller?"

"I'm ready for whatever you throw my way," she smiled, arching her brow with a tilt of the head.

"So I'm learning."

Chapter Nine

It wasn't a romantic movie. They didn't sit snuggled together either. Ethan sat on the complete opposite end of the couch and their fingers never touched once while reaching for the popcorn. Cady had a good time though, both because she enjoyed the movie, and because she was learning more about Ethan Shaw – not a cop.

She learned that he liked to talk back to the screen, just like she did. She learned that he had a sick sense of humor when faced with the macabre, just like she did. She learned that he seemed to have an extensive knowledge of weaponry based on some of his comments, not like her, but that was okay too.

When the screen flashed back to the DVD menu, she waited for him to kick her out, but Ethan didn't say anything. Instead he took their dishes to the sink and washed and dried them, putting them away and tossing the garbage from the popcorn.

Cady rose and stretched, knowing she couldn't put it off any longer. Time to face the music. "I should probably get going."

"Isn't that my line?" His brows came up in surprise, a slow smile spreading. "Tired of me already, huh?"

She liked his smile, it made the less than perfect quirks of his face come together in a much more pleasing manner. "I have to get ready for work."

"Now?" Ethan glanced at the time. "Where do you work?"

There it was. "Spanky's." His smile faded, and she knew he recognized it. From the looks of it, he didn't approve either. "I'd better go," she smiled tightly, edging towards the door. "I had a nice time tonight."

"Me too."

"You seem surprised."

"I guess I am."

"Just what a girl longs to hear." Cady gave him a sour smile and he laughed.

"I told you, I wasn't looking to pick up girls last night."

"Uh huh, and I wasn't looking to pick up anybody either, remember?" she pointed out, leaning against the door. "It must be fate."

"I believe we make our own fate."

Her face twisted into a wry grin. "That sounds like a bumper sticker."

"Doesn't make it any less true."

Maybe he had a point. She decided to try again. "I know we don't know each other..."

"On an epic scale," he nodded, coming to join her by the door.

"But you can trust me."

His face wrinkled into an exaggerated grimace. "Ooh, see, I never trust anyone who says trust me. Or honestly."

"Well... you can trust me, honestly," she grinned. "I hope you give me a chance to prove that to you."

"I shouldn't. I should've made you leave last night."

They were close, when had he moved so close? Not that she objected, but she'd started to think he was afraid of getting near her, like he might catch something. "So, why didn't you?" she asked, hands pressed to the door, trapped behind her waist.

"I honestly don't know."

She smiled, his choice of words leading her to believe he did know, somewhere deep down inside. Ethan's hand rose, and she held very still, not wanting to do anything to spook him. His fingers brushed the side of her shoulder in the ghost of a touch, and her fingers pressed against the scarred door in anticipation. Would he try to kiss her? Her lips parted in invitation, giving him the signal that it was all kinds of fine with her, but Ethan pulled back, brows drawing together.

"You don't owe me anything, you know," he said.

"That's a matter of opinion, but that's not why I stayed here with you last night." Did he think it was?

"As for me saving your life, it wasn't about you, it was about stopping him," he insisted, taking another step backwards, completely breaking the mood. "You just got caught in the middle."

"Wow, you sure know how to take the romance out of it, don't you?" Cady sighed. What was with him? It was like he didn't want her to like him.

"This isn't romantic, this is dangerous. More than you could possibly imagine," he scowled. "The fact that you could even..."

"Hey, I know this isn't a movie," Cady interrupted, not in the mood for a lecture. She'd wind up with one as soon as she got home. "I get that you've got dark, dangerous secrets. I get that whatever it is, it didn't end for you when that guy died in the parking lot. I get it better than you give me credit for. But that doesn't mean you have to push me away either. I'm not asking you for anything other than the chance to know you better." Her teeth caught at her bottom lip the instant the words were out of her mouth, bringing back the memory of the fevered plea... I only want to know you.

"You might not like what you find when you get to know me better."

She saw the sadness in his blue eyes, the absolute faith in his belief, but there was something else... something that made her want to leap before looking for once. "Oh, I don't know, something tells me you might be worth the risk." The melancholy in his gaze mingled with hope, and she decided they were getting way too heavy. "If you're worried about disappointing me, then don't be a tool," she smirked. "Walk me home."

There was a smile on his lips as she turned to open the door. "You live next door."

"Then it'll be a short walk." It was indeed, just a few steps from his shabby green door to hers. Cady lingered in her doorway, not quite ready to say goodbye. "We should do this again sometime. Only with less blood and passing out, and more popcorn."

"You're not like any girl I've ever met before," he said with a trace of wonder, and she took that as a good sign.

"You'd better believe it." Cady waited to see if he would make a move, leaning ever so slightly towards him, but the door jerked open behind her, throwing her off balance as her brother's imposing form filled the doorway.

"What the hell is this?" Ian demanded.

He did look pretty intimidating, towering over both of them, the dark, spiky hair and goatee lending a touch of menace to his already thunderous expression. That was why he was able to make his living as a bouncer at the Sugar Shack with a minimum of confrontation; Ian Garrett cultivated that look to his advantage on a daily basis. Cady was used to it though, and knew his bark was worse than his bite. Luckily, Ethan wasn't the least bit spooked by her brother's tone either.

"This is Ethan, you know, our neighbor," she smiled sweetly.

"You've been next door this whole time?"

"Ethan, this is my brother, Captain Obvious," Cady blithely continued the introductions. "You can call him Ian."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Ian ignored her attempt at humor and to her chagrin, Ethan jumped on board the overprotective train.

"You didn't call and tell him where you were?"

"I sent a text. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Ian glowered. "I spent all afternoon calling around the hospitals. I even called Uncle DeFazio."

"That seems a bit premature," she replied, surprised he'd taken it that far. "Did he give you the spiel about waiting more than twenty four hours?"

"I asked him to check the morgue."

"Aww, Ian... you're blowing things a little out of proportion, don't you think?"

"Damn it, Cady, it's just inconsiderate!"

"I have to agree with your brother on this one, you should have called him. I'm sorry if you were worried, man." Ethan chimed in, and remorse started to creep up on her, staining her cheeks with guilt. She hadn't thought he'd be that worried. Ian wasn't mollified by Ethan's apology though, in fact, it seemed to irk him even more.

"Was I talking to you?" He jabbed a finger into Ethan's chest. "No. I'm talking to her."

"Hey, I don't want any trouble." Ethan took a step backwards, hands coming up, spread wide.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have been plugging my sister all day and night."

"Ian!" Oh God... could he be more embarrassing?

"You've got it all wrong," Ethan insisted. "I was just making sure she got home alright."

"Yeah, you're a real gentleman, I can tell."

"Ian, that's enough." Cady shoved at his chest, pushing him back into the apartment before his temper got the better of him. "So what if I was out all night? I'm an adult."

"Barely."

"I'll be inside in a minute." Giving him a final shove, she shut the door, closing her eyes for a second before she turned to face Ethan, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that. He's not always such an asshat."

Ethan didn't seem to be too bent out of shape about it though. "He's just worried about you. You should have called him."

Cady nodded, suppressing the eye-roll she could feel coming. "Yeah well, I should get inside. He'll feel much better after he gets it all out. I'll see you later, okay?" She looked for some sign that her brother hadn't scared away the already skittish guy, but his response gave her no clue to what he might be thinking.

"Sure, later."

Waiting until he slipped inside his apartment, she took a deep breath before she entered hers, steeling herself for Ian's inevitable tirade. He didn't disappoint, but she knew from experience he'd wear himself out after a while. The more she tried to argue her own side, the more he'd dig in, so she let him talk while she nuked a Hot Pocket. The trick was to make it look like she was listening to his every word, even though he'd already started to repeat himself.

"What is all over your clothes?"

It took Cady a minute to realize he'd asked her a question and she looked down at the dark stains on her jeans. "Oh, it's blood. I'm not really sure whose, but it was that kind of a night." She kept her voice light, the better to disguise the truth.

"Why can't you ever be serious? I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

"Because you're serious enough for the both of us. My serious contribution to the household is getting ready for work, which I have to do now or I'll be late." She wrapped the food in a paper towel and brought it into her room, hoping he wouldn't follow. No such luck.

"I thought we talked about you finding a real job?"

Back to that again... "The money's real enough. I don't see you complaining about that."

"You know I don't want you working there." Ian paused at the doorway, not quite invading her space as she pulled out clean clothes.

"Yeah well, the opportunities aren't exactly falling at my feet these days, so I take what I can get. You don't see me complaining about your job."

"I'm not the one stripping. I just make sure the scum stays away from them."

"I'm not stripping either!" she bristled, wondering if Ethan could hear them through the wall. That was all she needed.

"Might as well be," he muttered. "Cady, you could do so much better..."

"I'm not having this conversation with you again. I'm going to be late." Indignity fueled her anger, because she knew he had a point. Not that she was ashamed of working at Spanky's exactly, but it certainly wasn't what she'd dreamed of doing with her life. Every time Ian talked about something better, it just reminded her of what she'd lost. Grabbing the bundle of clothes in her arms, she pushed past him to the bathroom, half eaten pizza pocket in her teeth.

Chapter Ten

She made it to work with two minutes to spare. Kelli was already there behind the cage, smiling and talking to Rolfe, one of their regulars.

Spanky's boasted the largest selection of adult videos and DVD's in the city. Cady wasn't sure that was entirely true, but no one had ever stepped up to challenge the claim. During daylight hours, they also sold marital aids and curios, even a line of clothing bearing the Spanky's logo. But at night, employees retreated behind the metal cage where Cady worked, dispensing DVD rentals through a sliding drawer like a bank.

Customers could step in and browse through giant binders of DVD covers while seventies rock blared from the speakers. In the age of online shopping and on demand movies, the real lure was the employees. Exclusively female and pretty, all wearing low cut t-shirts with Spanky's emblazoned across their chests, and encouraged to wear little else.

Kelli's pink t-shirt strained across her chest, distorting the letters and leaving no doubt that she went bra-less underneath it. Paired with the too tight shirt was an equally brief pair of cut off denim shorts, and high heeled sandals. How Kelli managed to work an entire shift on those heels was beyond Cady's comprehension. She herself had on a pair of white cotton shorts, revealing an expanse of tanned thigh, but no cheek.

"You're killing me, kitten." Her boss took one look at her and shook his head in disgust.

"Hello, Dylan, nice to see you too," she smiled, squeezing past him to get into the cage.

"Would it kill you to show a little skin?" The man wore a brown leather jacket, shiny and worn around the elbows, over a tan shirt with mushrooms all over it. His hair was long and stringy, his pointy goatee in need of a trim. Too thin, with nicotine stained teeth, he wasn't repulsive exactly, just unkempt. Too many cigarettes and hard alcohol had taken their toll. Cleaned up he could be Johnny Depp's brother, but in his current state he was more homeless than hottie.

"I'm showing plenty," she looked down at her clothes. "This is shorter than the skirt I wore last week."

"Yeah, but not up top where the customers can get the best look at you." His eyes dipped to her chest and Cady resisted the urge to cover herself. The v-necked t-shirt already showed a healthy expanse of cleavage.

"Angel, grab a pair of scissors, help Cady out." He gestured to Kelli, who nodded, grabbing a pair of scissors from the counter.

"Whoa, you are not cutting this thing any lower." Cady took a step backwards, hands coming up.

"We talked about this, honey. You know how it is. You've gotta give them something to look at. It's all in the name. Spanky's."

Ick. "Okay, fine." Tugging her t-shirt tighter around the middle, she tied the excess fabric into a knot in the back, exposing her tanned midriff and the v-neck pulled wider. "Is this better?"

"Gorgeous," Dylan grinned, kissing the tips of his fingers. "Okay girls, bring Daddy the bacon." He slapped his hand against the counter for emphasis before leaving. He'd be back at two to help close up and pay them. Dylan always paid in cash, it was a strictly under the table arrangement. Officially, the store closed at eight p.m. on the books. Whatever he made from the rentals went exclusively into his pocket, it was a cash only business.

"Dude, how much fun was last night?" Kelli burst out as soon as the bossman was gone. For the next hour she went on and on about Andre, the guy she'd left Inferno with, stopping to flirt with the unwashed masses that came into the storefront. Cady was friendly, as usual, but Kelli really sold it, leaning over to take their money from the drawer, bending unnecessarily low to pick out the DVD's from the storage racks behind them.

Cady kept mum about her own excitement, her promise to keep quiet about it looming large in her mind. A little bored between customers, she started to doodle on the inside of her arm, copying the strange symbols she'd seen on Ethan's back without realizing she was doing it.

"What are those?" Kelli asked, grabbing her wrist for a better look.

"Oh, nothing. Just some designs I saw, tattoos."

"Are you thinking about getting another tattoo?"

Cady glanced down to the tiny blue butterfly on the inside of her wrist that reminded her of her father. "No, not really. I was just messing around." She put the pen down, but picked it up again less than ten seconds later, finishing the detail on the last symbol.

"I totally want to get one right here," Kelli pointed to her right hip, visible above the low slung denim. "But I can't decide what to get. What are those, Chinese?"

"No, I don't think so. I saw them on this guy."

"Ooh, what guy?" Kelli's face lit up. "Here I've been going on and on and you've been studying intimate tattoos."

"They weren't intimate, just on his back."

"But you definitely saw him without his shirt on then? That's progress." Her voice rang with pride.

"Sure I did, but it wasn't like that."

"What do you mean it wasn't like that? Shirtless plus tattoos equal hotness, right?"

She couldn't deny, there was a certain amount of hotness going on when she took off Ethan's shirt, not to mention the jeans, and Cady felt her cheeks betray her.

"I knew it!" Kelli jiggled in excitement. "See, your sex drive wasn't dead, just hibernating."

"I never said my sex drive was dead," Cady protested. "And I'm telling you, it wasn't like that. He didn't even kiss me."

"Oh, sex without kissing... that can be hot."

A customer shuffled up to the counter then, and Kelli got drawn into a conversation with him about sex without kissing. That was the part of the job Cady disliked the most. She knew the men leered, knew they were likely saving up images for their spank bank to be taken out later, with or without the movie rental. But actually talking to them about sex... that felt dirty. It didn't bother Kelli though, and Cady wondered if she'd ever be that open.

"What's his deal then, if it wasn't like that?" Kelli sauntered over, offering a bag of baby carrots and Cady took one. "Is he gay?"

"You think everyone that doesn't pounce is gay."

"Only because it's true."

"He's not gay." At least she didn't think he was. "He was feeling under the weather, so I helped him get home." Not a lie... "I slept on his couch and nothing happened. He was a perfect gentleman."

"Too bad," Kelli sighed, munching on carrots. "Are you going to see him again?"

"Probably, he's my next door neighbor."

"Wait... that guy? The homeless one?"

"He's not homeless, he's my neighbor," Cady objected, tossing the rest of the carrot into the garbage. "And I think he's kinda cute."

"You can do so much better, Cady." Kelli turned to smile at another customer then, and Cady was reminded of her brother's words.

"Yep, that's me. Full of potential." Maybe once, but she'd learned not to pin her hopes on the future anymore.

The rest of the shift dragged. Business was slow and Dylan wasn't too happy when he took a peek into the drop safe at the end of the night. Cady didn't bat an eye as he bitched and moaned about the economy, slipping the cash into her pocket as soon as she got paid. She would much rather have taken off while he tallied the night's receipts, but she stuck around, waiting for Ian to come and pick them up.

It was their usual routine. Ian arrived about fifteen minutes later, on foot, to escort Kelli home and then walk the rest of the way to their apartment. While they walked, Kelli and Ian chatted easily, her hand frequently resting on his arm. More than once she'd wondered if her brother had ever hooked up with Kelli, but she'd decided it was none of her business.

Anything that had him joking around had to be a good thing, and that happened more often than not when Kelli was around. His mood sobered after they left Kelli safe in her own studio apartment, and they strolled for a few blocks in silence before he spoke again.

"Listen, I've been thinking about before..."

"I'm sorry if I worried you," she cut him off before he started down that path again. "I should have called to let you know I was okay, I wasn't thinking."

"No, not about that. I was thinking about you and school."

Not that again... "We already hashed this out, there's no way we can make that work."

"No, I was thinking, if I picked up a few more shifts, and then there's private gigs. I think we could swing it."

"I'm not letting you work yourself into an early grave just so I can go to school. That's not what Dad would have wanted."

"Dad wouldn't have wanted you working at that shithole either," he growled.

Cady caught his elbow, forcing him to look at her. "He wouldn't have wanted this life for either of us, but here we are. If you want to blame someone about it, blame Mom."

"It's not her fault..."

Of course he leapt to defend her, he always did. "The hell it's not."

"Cady... you don't know what happened."

"And I don't care." They walked in silence until the apartment building came into view. "Look, I'm not about to let you drive yourself into the ground so I can play campus co-ed. I'm saving some money, I might be able to take some classes next year."

"You are?"

"You didn't think I was blowing all my ill gotten gains on lip gloss and Cheetos, did you?" He did, she could see it on his face, but it didn't bother her. She didn't have the best track record when it came to responsibility. Not that she believed she'd be able to go to a school like Stanford, like she'd originally planned. That door was forever closed to her.

"Come on, I'll make you some Pizza ala Cady and we'll see what's streaming." Cady was the queen of sprucing up cheap frozen foods, adding spices or the occasional fresh ingredient to keep the cheap staples tasty and interesting. Raised primarily by her father and brother, she'd never learned how to cook properly, but her experiments over the years had turned out some successes and horrible failures (like mixing left over turkey, scrambled eggs and chili, served in crunchy taco shells, blecch), never to be repeated again.

It was late, nearly four a.m. by the time she rolled into bed, tugging the sheet up to her waist. Was Ethan awake? Her ears strained for some sign that he was even home, but all that came back to her were the street sounds through her open window. Briefly, she considered sending him a text, but she realized she had no idea what his phone number was. It was probably for the best, it was late anyway. Most normal people were asleep long before. Then again, Ethan wasn't normal, was he?

Her mind churned, unable to let go and fall asleep with all the unanswered questions. What was the deal with his tattoos appearing so suddenly? Who was Claudio to him, and why had Ethan been worried about him coming back? How had Claudio put her and Penny under his spell in the first place? Why did Ethan carry a rusty dagger, and why had he stabbed himself through his own hand to get to Claudio? Why all the chanting? Why had Claudio killed himself? Why was Ethan so afraid of the police? What exactly was his job, anyway? How had Ethan survived being stabbed so easily? And how had she recovered from the nasty infection on her collarbone so quickly without going to the ER?

Eventually she drifted off, the unsolved puzzles giving way to the relief of dreams.

Chapter Eleven

Dreams.

Trapped in this world, he'd made it his own. Asherik no longer pined for his natural plane, instead he reveled in the power under his grasp on this world. Here he could feed to his heart's content. Slowly, savoring the kill, or fast, heart pumping, blood spurting.

Some nights he wanted more. Some nights he escaped to the release of his own dreams. Dreams where the constant, gnawing desire to rend and tear faded and he could glimpse something more. Something always just out of reach. It teased him, lured him away from his purpose. For how long... he didn't know.

But always he awoke.

And always the need returned.

And so Ash woke from his own dreams to plunder another's. It was child's play to find her. The reaper hadn't bothered to instruct her in the simplest of protections. She must mean less to him than he'd thought. Floating over her like a gossamer veil caught on the breeze, his power bathed over her skin in the lightest caress, almost feeling the heat of her skin, the supple curves of youth.

Soon enough he'd taste such delights in the flesh, but for the moment he was content to ride the current of air above her, letting her draw him inside with each breath, only to puff out again. All at once he slid into her mind, taking note of the surroundings with interest.

She sat in the shade, laying out an elaborate picnic, on a red gingham tablecloth. Dressed in shorts and a skimpy top, he admired her smooth, tanned flesh while she brought out all manner of tasty delights from the voluminous basket. Flexing his will, he changed her clothing to a white sundress, her shoulders bare, hair smoothed away from her brow by a matching strip of white; the epitome of innocent beauty. That pleased him.

Instead of taking form, he watched while she adjusted everything just so, not so much as taking a bite while she waited. Whom did she wait for? Unable to keep from participating any longer, he took a man's shape, tall, dark and handsome in his exquisite attire.

The girl smiled politely as he approached, placing a green apple in his hand when he stretched it out to her, but declining the invitation in his eyes. Puzzled, Ash took another form. Younger, closer to her age, with less formal attire. Again, she smiled when he approached, offering a piece of fruit, but nothing more. Kneeling before her, he caught her gaze, bending her to his will. But instead of the passion clouded swoon of acceptance he expected, her brows twitched together in annoyance.

"Sorry, buddy, I'm not interested."

Ash let the construct go, too shocked to reply. The girl gave no sign that she was disturbed by the sudden disappearance, the nature of dreams suppressing suspicions of unreality. Instead she turned her gaze to the horizon, waiting in her white dress, surrounded by her bounty.

Desperate to exert his control, Ash dissolved their surroundings. The peaceful setting shimmered away, replaced by the more romantic setting of a silken bower, a roaring fire crackling in the background. Before the image could completely solidify, they were back in the park and she began unpacking the picnic basket again.

She fought him. She'd actually fought him.

In all the dreams he'd entered, no one had ever so much as questioned his manipulations. They all came to him, whether willing or screaming, but none ever challenged his construct. Content to watch for a while, he waited to see who she brought into the dream, but no one ever came. Instead her shoulders slowly bowed, the eager light of anticipation dimming as the feast around her wilted in the heat of the day.

It confused him. Why, with such power at her disposal, did she choose a reality where she was disappointed? Gathering his will, he spoke at her ear without revealing himself.

"Show me," he whispered. "Show me what you yearn for. Show me what you want."

A man approached, dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Muscular arms – a punishing strength there – but there was no menace in his stance. The closer he got, the more details were revealed. Short hair, neither blonde, nor brown, but somewhere in between. Tattoos visible on his arms and neck, and a scar that creased his brow. The tattoos surprised him. A tenderness in his blue eyes and the hint of a smile to his lips that stretched into a slightly crooked smile. He was glad to see her.

Not a beautiful man as he'd come to understand by usual definition, but powerful, compelling to behold. Of all the men she could desire, she'd chosen this form. Why?

"Why do you choose someone so flawed?" he asked, a voice on the wind.

"Sometimes the beauty is in the flaws," she spoke aloud, taking the offered hand. The dream man pulled her up, and they strolled away from the picnic, out of the shadows and into the sunlight.

"Now, we're getting somewhere." Asherik withdrew to consider what he'd learned. It was time to choose a new body. One with flaws.

* * *

It was sometime after noon when Cady woke. She lay in bed until nearly one, chasing after the remnants of the dream she couldn't quite hold onto. There was a man... that much she knew. She only wished she could remember more about him.

Ian still snored like a buzz saw, and she knew from past experience she could blast the TV and not disturb him, but Cady was feeling reflective, not at all in the mood for loud music or television. Instead, she made herself a cup of coffee (mountain grown) with milk and a squirt of Hershey's Special Dark syrup while she woke up her laptop.

The poor machine had seen better days, and it was slower than she liked. Still, it got her to the internet if she was patient, piggybacking onto someone stupid enough not to secure their wireless router. A quick glance over email, Facebook notifications, Twitter – none of it caught her interest. There was only one thing on her mind. Make that a lot of little somethings, but it amounted to one major topic. Trying to make sense of what Ethan was mixed up in.

It was obvious he didn't plan on clueing her in on any of the big stuff, so Cady did what she'd always done, relying on her own resourcefulness to find the answers she wanted. Starting with the news sites, she found a story about the dead guy. He was identified as Claudio Rinaldo, a gallery owner from North Beach. His car had been found in the Mission district, completely stripped; police hinted that the two crimes were related, seeing as how he'd been found in a parking lot. There was an anonymous tip line where witnesses were encouraged to come forward with information.

Continuing to search, she found a couple of articles on the guy, pictures of his gallery. He hardly seemed like the type of man to drag a woman off the streets. Smart, attractive, well off, he could have easily gone home with a dozen girls in that bar. His handsome face smiled for the camera, but there was something... off. Cady wasn't sure what it was, the smile maybe... but she didn't feel like the same person was looking back at her. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the devastating effect of that dark gaze, the knowing tilt of his lips. A shiver rolled down the back of her arms, and she clicked out of the article.

Letting her fingers go slack over the keys, she tried to recall the words Ethan had used in the alley. Something spiritus... the words all jumbled together in her memory and she wasn't able to recall any other specific words. Wikipedia came up with the definition right away. Spiritus: Latin for spirit or breathing. Spirit or breathing... and in Latin. What the hell was Ethan up to?

Curious about the tattoos, she searched under images for tattoo symbols, and could tell in an instant they weren't Chinese or Japanese script. Nor were they reminiscent of any other written language. They didn't match astrological symbols or tribal motifs, they were unlike anything she'd seen before. Without being able to articulate what they were called, Cady realized she could search the web for hours and not come across anything similar.

On a whim she searched under "sudden appearance of tattoos", but all she got were ads for specific tattoo parlors and a reference to an episode of The Vampire Diaries. Figuring she could rule out anything from a TV show about vampires applying to real life, Cady gave up. What did she think she could find out there anyway? As much as she hated to admit it, she had to have just missed the tattoos in all the fuss over taking care of his stab wounds. It was the only logical explanation.

Sipping her now cold coffee, she considered what to do with the rest of her day. She could go up the roof and catch a few hours of sun with a pitcher of ice water, or she could call Kelli or Penny and see if they wanted to meet up anywhere.

Or, she could always pop next door to see if she could shake loose any more answers from her mysterious neighbor...

Chapter Twelve

A fine sheen of sweat covered his torso as Ethan bobbed in the doorway. Up and down – the movement steady, not at all jerky or uncontrolled. Itching for some kind of physical exertion, his usual strenuous exercise routine was out of the question with the stab wound just a couple of days behind him. Pull-ups provided a safe enough challenge to his upper body. Once his muscles were properly warmed up, he planned on attacking the stairs. A few circuits of five flights up and down in the relatively cool stairwell should give him the cardio he needed without straining his newly healed side.

The knock at the door had him instantly on guard, catching up a small towel to dry his hands before pulling a 9mm from the desk drawer. Light on the balls of his feet, Ethan approached the door without a sound, careful to keep the bulk of his body to the side as he checked the peep hole.

Cady stood in the hallway, a glass covered dish in her hands.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, unsure if his pulse still raced because of the adrenaline pumping over the unexpected knock, or if he was glad to see her in particular. While he watched, she reached out to knock again, and he pressed the towel to his sweaty brow. "Just a minute," he called through the flimsy door, backing away to stick the gun away in a kitchen drawer.

Swabbing himself with the towel, Ethan tugged on a t-shirt, running a hand through his hair before he unlocked the door. "Hi," he said awkwardly, in unfamiliar territory to find a pretty girl with a care package at his door.

"Hi," she smiled brightly. "I made you some soup."

Soup? In the middle of summer? It seemed an odd choice. "I... um..."

"Nothing fancy, just ramen noodles. Should I bring it in here? It's kinda hot." Before he could get out another word, she'd brushed past him to set the dish down on the counter, chattering the whole while. "I thought you might still be too sick to eat solid foods, and soup would hit the spot. I promise it's way better than regular ramen, wait until you taste it. Are you hungry?"

"No, thank you," he answered truthfully. At seeing her crestfallen expression, Ethan almost wished he was hungry. "But it was nice of you to think of me, I'll have some later."

Cady's eyes made a circuit of the small apartment before landing back on him again. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good."

"Really? Because you look kind of sweaty. Have you checked to see if you have a fever?" She started towards him with a hand outstretched to his brow and he side stepped her.

"It's fine."

"Yeah, but that wound was hella nasty, I think I should take another look at it. What if it's infected?" She drove him backwards relentlessly, until the back of his heels came up against the wall.

"No, thank you."

"Don't be such a baby, I'm not going to hurt you," she teased, reaching for his shirt. Ethan caught her hands easily, even as she twisted to avoid him. Her delicate wrists slipped out of his grasp and he chased after them. Her hip brushed against his as they grappled, hands sliding intimately. A bubble of laughter came from her parted lips, and Ethan found himself smiling back, lacing his fingers firmly between hers to pin them down. Cady relaxed against him, accepting his dominant hold – or was that intimacy her intent all along?

"What about your shoulder?" he changed the subject, but didn't let go of her hands, enjoying the subtle press of her skin against his. "Did you see a doctor about that?"

"No, it's much better. You can hardly see it at all."

Ethan released his grip to ease her neckline aside, fingers tracing over the faint line. It looked normal enough, but he wasn't sure what to check for if any infection lingered.

"Okay, now I showed you mine, time for you to show me yours." She tugged at his shirt again, and Ethan let out a breath.

"I told you, it's fine."

"And I told you, I want to see it for myself."

Instead of fighting, he let her lift the bottom of his t-shirt to see that his side was un-bandaged, the skin completely knit together in a puffy, pink pucker of flesh.

"Amazing..." she breathed, her fingers cool against his skin, making his muscles clench tightly with something akin to pain, but he didn't make a single move to stop her. Until he noticed the dark designs on the inside of her arm.

"What is this?" he demanded, jerking her arm to the side to get a better look at it.

"Ah... I was just doodling at work," Cady replied, clearly puzzled by his outburst.

Ethan knew she must think he was nuts, but he dragged her to the kitchen sink all the same, thrusting her arm under the tap. "These are not the sort of things you should be doodling," he scolded, squirting her arm liberally with dishwashing soap. "These are... how did you even...?" Words failed him as he scrubbed her arm, almost frantic for the inky black stains to fade.

"Ow... careful," she winced, adjusting her stance to get closer to the sink. "What's the big deal? I noticed the symbols on your back and I thought they were cool."

"They're..." What could he say? "Trust me when I say they're not something you want to be drawing on your body."

"Why not?"

"Just... trust me," he pleaded, gentling his touch when the designs began to pale.

"How about if you trust me instead?" Cady fired back, and he had to shake his head. Definitely not one to give up without a fight.

"It's not that simple. They're not all my secrets to tell."

"Then you do admit there are secrets," she smiled.

Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but for the second time that afternoon, a knock sounded at his door. Without skipping a beat, he dropped her arm, opening the kitchen drawer to retrieve his gun. Cady's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon, but he held a finger to his lips and she stayed quiet. Following the same protocol, he checked the peep hole.

Rikard.

Without hesitation, Ethan grabbed Cady by the arm and shoved her into the hall closet. "Don't move a muscle," he breathed.

"But..."

"I mean it, Cady. Silence." He tried to ignore the way her pretty eyes stretched wider, fear clouding their depths as he shut the door in her face. Whatever she was afraid of, shutting her in the closet was the lesser of two evils. Tucking the gun back into the kitchen drawer, he answered the door.

"Rikard," he nodded. "Sorry, I wanted to finish the set before I answered the door."

The man standing in the hall smiled wide when he saw him. His reddish brown curls had long since resisted whatever styling product he'd used that morning, and pointed every which way. Even in the heat of the day, he wore a brown leather jacket, to conceal the weapons Ethan knew he had strapped to his body.

"Shaw, you always were a machine," he grinned. "I thought you might have company." His blue eyes scanned the apartment, cataloguing.

"No... I had the TV on." Ethan stood back to let him in. "You didn't have to come all the way up here. I said I was fine in my report."

"I'm passing through on my way to a job in Sacramento."

That meant someone wouldn't live to see the end of the week; Rikard was nothing if not thorough. "Sacramento? Shit, isn't that punishment enough? Might as well leave 'em be," Ethan joked, but he couldn't shake the thought that Rikard was there for more than a social call. They'd been friendly enough in the past, but not enough to warrant his going out of his way for a visit.

"You know that's not an option." Rikard's eyes narrowed.

"Jesus, lighten up, man. It was a joke. Do you want a beer or something?" He pulled open the fridge, relishing the blast of cold.

"Sure, I'll take a cold one." Holding up his hand, he deftly caught the can of beer Ethan tossed across the kitchen. "I heard about your trouble the other night."

Just what he'd been afraid of. "I'm surprised they bothered to tell you about it. I've got things under control."

"Letting him slip through your fingers, leaving a body behind like that... it's sloppy." Rikard shook his head. "It brings up the question, what else have you been sloppy about?"

The menace was there despite the mild tone, but Ethan let it roll off his back. "I had to get out of there, I was hurt."

"Bad?"

"Bad enough."

"Like Cairo?"

"About that, yeah."

Rikard's brows came up as he considered that. "In that case, you did better than I would have thought."

Satisfied he'd passed the informal interrogation, Ethan poured himself a glass of iced tea and shut the fridge. "How long are you going to be in town?"

"I'm headed out tonight. I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat at that taco place around here. Is it still open?"

"Yeah, tacos, that's cool," Ethan nodded. "I'm pretty sure they're still open." Anything to get him out of the apartment with Cady hiding in the closet before the shit hit the fan.

"Or are you already set?" Rikard lifted the lid off of Cady's dish, a single brow poised in question. "Soup? I've never known you to cook before."

"That's not cooking, it's instant noodles. A child could do it."

"But a child didn't make this, did they?" Rikard leaned over to inhale deeply over the steaming dish. Chunks of chopped vegetables floated above the noodles and the smell of spicy herbs wafted in the air.

"A neighbor brought it over," Ethan answered truthfully.

"Making friends, are we?"

His tone spoke volumes, and Ethan was quick to downplay the food's significance. "It's a nice little old lady, she leaves me cookies every now and again. She saw me in the elevator the other night after the brawl. I was all sweaty, I said I had the flu, this was her way of helping."

"That's sweet." Rikard fished a carrot out of the soup with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. "Are you sure she's what she says she is?"

"Give me some credit, will you?" Ethan scowled deeply. "I've been doing this a long time."

"I'm just busting your balls," Rikard grinned, draining the rest of his beer in one long gulp. "Damn, you're twitchy."

"Getting stabbed will do that to a guy," he muttered, shoulders relaxing. An offer of another beer was accepted, and they fell into familiar shop talk then. Ethan was conscious of the extra pair of ears in the room the whole time, but there was little he could do about it. When Rikard asked to see the sketches he'd drawn of the subject's victims, he gladly steered him into his office. As he passed by, Ethan noticed the closet door stood ajar by about a half inch, and firmly pressed it shut. What the hell was she thinking?

Eventually, he got rid of Rikard, promising to go out for beers the next time he passed through town. Ethan waited by the door, waiting until he heard the man's footsteps on the stairs. Rikard never took the elevator, it was a personal quirk of his.

Ready to read Cady the riot act for opening the door when she was supposed to be hiding, he threw open the closet door, puzzled to find her crouched behind a long duster, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "What are you doing?" Her eyes popped open, and Cady lunged for the open doorway, pushing past him with a great gasping breath. "I told you to keep the door shut."

"I needed the air," she said, pacing in a slow circle, shaking her hands like she was trying to fling off something sticky.

"That's ridiculous, there was plenty of air in there."

"I don't like small, enclosed places."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." That explained it, and Ethan felt bad about shoving her in there, but how could he have known? "It was for the best though."

"Easy for you to say, you weren't the one in the closet," she muttered, helping herself to a glass of water. "Who was that guy?"

"A... friend." The word wasn't quite right, but Rikard was the closest thing to a friend that Ethan had in the Company.

"He's like you?"

"Like me... what makes you say that?" Ethan frowned, not sure he understood the connotation.

"The tattoos."

Shit. Even from inside the closet Cady saw too much. "No, he's not like me." Ethan took the empty glass from her hands, washing it out of habit. "Well... he is, but he isn't. If you ever see him coming, you look the other way, you got me?" He looked up to catch her eye, but she'd wandered into his office. Shit. When had his day spiraled so out of control?

The office was sparsely furnished, a metal desk painted a scuffed brown, a rolling chair, and a small weight bench tucked into the corner. A large map of the city dominated one wall, a series of colored pins tracking his progress, past and present. What drew the eye were the sketches covering the walls. Bold smears of charcoal, delicate pencil strokes; a study in black, white and shades of gray.

Women's faces dominated – old, young, drawn with varying expression ranging from scorn to a vacant stupor. One feature seemed to tie them together, they all had long hair. Scattered among the portraits were grisly scenes. The same faces pulled into misshapen masks of pain. Pools of blood matted the long, flowing hair, their eyes staring sightlessly, injuries grotesquely rendered down to the last horrific detail.

"What is all this stuff? Did you draw these?" Cady asked, picking up one of the sketches from the desk. Ethan took the drawing from her hands, even though there was no point when there were so many covering the walls. "Who are these girls?" she pressed when he didn't answer.

"Victims."

"Victims of that guy? The gallery owner?" Her eyes widened even as his narrowed.

"I thought you didn't know him?"

"I don't, I looked him up on the net. You're saying he killed all of these women?"

"No, not all of them. Not him directly."

"But definitely some of them?"

"Yes, definitely some of them." Ethan's gaze roamed over the faces, deep regret tingeing his voice. That was why he kept them up, a reminder of those he'd failed.

"Wait... this looks familiar." Cady picked up another drawing. Long dark hair cascaded over narrow shoulders, the smile on her lips hesitant, like she was afraid to laugh at the joke. "This is Penny."

"This is... you shouldn't be in here." He reached for the sketch, but she pulled it away.

"No, I think it's time you told me what's going on here. You owe me that, at least."

"You're right, I do owe you." Ethan let out a long breath, taking in the determination of her jaw and the fire in her eyes. He had to tell her something. Maybe he could get away with a partial truth. "What do you know about murder?"

Chapter Thirteen

What did she know about murder? Cady would have laughed if not for the grim look in his eye. "I know about as much as anyone who watches prime time television. I know that the cops would have a field day with this room, especially the crime scene sketches. That's what these are, right? Crime scenes?"

"Yes, that's right."

"But you're not a cop."

"Not exactly, I work for a private organization."

"Like a private eye?"

"Something like that."

Another evasive answer, but she sensed they were moving closer to the truth. "The guy who attacked me, tell me how he fits into all of this."

"The man who picked up you and your friend was part of a cult. They're attacking women that meet certain criteria."

"What kind of criteria?"

"The long hair for one, it's a constant factor."

Cady's eyes swept over the sea of faces, he was right, each one did have long hair. "What else?"

"Virgins, if they can get them."

"I guess I should be glad that ship has sailed, not that it did me any good, come to think of it," she murmured. "So they like hairy virgins, it seems like comic book stores should be full of them. Or do they take girls only?" There were a few men sprinkled among the women, but more the exception than the rule.

"They'll take anyone that captures his interest, but he tends to prefer women."

"He who? Is there a ringleader to this cult?"

"Ah... yes, I guess there is."

He didn't sound so sure, and Cady called him on it, sensing he was holding back. "You guess there is? Don't you know?"

"They're very secretive. I've been studying them a long time, and unfortunately, most of the information I can get is more about tracking their actions and less about the people involved."

"How come you have a picture of Penny?"

His mouth opened and closed without answering, and Cady knew he was about to lie to her. "I got a tip that she might be in danger."

"A tip from who?"

"A reliable source."

A reliable source, my ass... He was holding out on her. "How could they possibly know she might be in danger? And how did you know where to find her? Did you follow Penny to Inferno that night? If she was the one in danger, why am I the one he snatched off the street?" Ethan blinked at her rapid fire questions, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room. "Just level with me for Pete's sake, would you?" she pleaded, thrusting the drawing of her friend into his hands.

"A psychic told me she'd be there. He said she'd be his next target."

She hadn't expected him to say that, and her eyes narrowed in skepticism. "You believe in that stuff?"

"It got me there, didn't it?"

"But Penny wasn't the one in danger."

"She would have been if you hadn't kept her from leaving with the guy."

He had a point there. If she hadn't stopped Penny, there might have been another grisly drawing tacked up to the wall next to her picture. "How come the psychic can't tell you who the cult members are?"

"It doesn't work that way."

"Sounds awfully convenient to me."

"There's nothing convenient about how it works, trust me," he muttered.

"What do they want, this cult? Why are they killing these women?"

"To feed a demon."

Cady was about to laugh, but she could see he was dead serious. "A demon," she repeated. "So the cult offers the poor girl up to the demon, but when he doesn't show... they cut her up anyway?"

"It's not a literal feeding. The belief is that the demon feeds on the energy released in killing the victims in a certain way."

In a certain way – a bland way of expressing the carnage caught so vividly on the page in the crime scene sketches. It was enough to turn her stomach. "How long have they been getting away with this?"

"For years and years." Ethan wiped a hand across his weary brow. "Every time we stamp out one of the bastards, another one crops up somewhere else."

"Then that's what you meant, when you said it's not over? There are other members of this cult picking up where Claudio left off?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"And so you have all this stuff because you're trying to track the cult down."

"That's what I do, yes."

"How come you haven't gone to the cops with any of this?"

"Tell the police that I'm tracking down a demon worshiping cult?" he snorted. "They'd lock me up instead."

"Why not? There are plenty of sickos out there in the world. Besides, you're not telling them that demons are killing the victims, just about people who've gone off their rocker."

"Regular police aren't equipped to deal with this."

"But you are," she deadpanned. "With your rusty knife and the stabbing yourself in the hand?" Unable to drop the belief that she was only getting half truths, she shook her head.

"These people are superstitious. I try to use that against them, that's all. If reciting a few mumbo jumbo words gives me an opening to take them down, I'll use it."

"Yeah, but... what about that guy who came to see you? Rikard? What's his connection to all of this? What private company would have you tracking down a satanic cult?"

"Forget you ever heard about the Company." His expression darkened and she took a step backwards. A struggle took place on his face then, the flash of anger giving way to frustration and possibly worry. His voice was softer when he spoke again, the edge blurred with concern. "I mean it, Cady. For your own protection. In fact, you should forget about everything I told you here. Just be glad your part in it is over. As for me, I should get back to work. I've lost my lead on him, I'm completely in the dark as to where he'll strike next."

Guilt flooded through her. "I'm sorry you lost your link to them because of me."

"I'm not, I'm glad you're safe," he replied, just as surprised to say it as she was to hear it.

"Well... let's go through it all again. Maybe we'll turn up something you missed?"

Ethan held up a hand. "There is no we, not where the hunt is concerned."

"I know I'm not a trained investigator, but maybe a fresh pair of eyes could give you a new perspective?"

"No, thank you." Placing a firm hand to the small of her back, he steered her out of the office, locking the door behind them. "I appreciate the offer, but I've already told you too much."

"Ethan..." She was about to protest that he hadn't told her much of anything at all, but the wild cast to his eyes had her think better of it. "Alright, fine, I'll stop bugging you about it. I wish you'd let me help though."

"You've already helped more than you know. Speaking of which... thank you for the soup."

He was changing the subject, and she let him, dropping her questions for the moment. "It's the least I can do. You should eat it before it gets cold."

"I'll walk you home first."

She'd been hoping he would want to hang out a while longer, but Cady could respect that he had a job to do. "I'm pretty sure I can make it there on my own if you're busy."

"No, I think I'd better see you home safe and sound. You never know what could be out there."

Was he making a joke? Cady wasn't sure. She let him escort her out into the hallway, leaning against the scuffed, green door as she searched for something to say. "Thanks for walking me home."

"Thanks again for the soup." Ethan smiled, lingering beside her.

"Thanks again for saving my life."

"Thanks for patching me up."

"Thanks for taking care of me when I passed out."

"Thanks for..."

Cady leaned up on her toes, cutting him off with a quick press of the lips because she knew he'd never make the first move. She saw him blink in surprise, but before she could rock back onto her heels, his arm circled around her waist, drawing her tight against him.

It was her turn to gasp in astonishment as his lips covered hers, nothing hesitant or innocent in his kiss. Her lips parted to accept him, and a shiver of anticipation fluttered through her midsection as the kiss deepened. She tasted the longing there, felt it along the length of her body as he held her close. Her hands clutched at his shoulders to keep upright as he held her off balance, stealing the breath from her body as naked desire flared between them.

What had happened to the awkward, almost shy guy who kept trying to hold her at arm's length? She felt the pounding throb of his heart, beating as fast as hers was, and she knew he felt it too. A thrill went through her as she realized she'd been right, he was attracted to her just as much as she was to him.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Ian's voice was like a blast of icy air, and Cady startled, breaking the kiss to see her brother approach, mail in hand. Ethan let go of her like a hot potato, clearing his voice uncomfortably. "You do know she's only nineteen, right?" he smirked.

"Like that matters," Cady scowled as her brother shouldered his way past her to get into the apartment. From the way Ethan stiffened at her side she wasn't so sure he felt the same though.

"I should go," he said shortly, already turning away from her and she grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Wait... This doesn't change anything, does it?"

Ethan's head hung low, looking at anything but at her. "I never should have done that."

"You didn't. I kissed you first, remember?"

"Not just that, I never should have let you in, in the first place."

Cady thought he meant more than into his apartment. "Do you always do everything you should?"

"Yes. God, yes," he laughed miserably. "Until you came along, anyway."

"What's so bad about that?" Her knees dipped, trying to worm her way into his line of sight. Once she caught his eye she held him there, puzzled by the torment she found. What was the big deal?

"Cady, you're way too young to get involved with a guy like me."

"It's not that much of an age difference," she protested.

"It's enough. I'm twenty-eight. I thought you were at least twenty-one, maybe twenty-two or three. What were you even doing in that club?"

"Oh, like I'm the only person ever to have a fake ID. It doesn't change who I am. Besides, it's not like you're forty."

"You're still a teenager for chrissakes."

"And you like me," she fired back hotly. "I don't see how this changes anything between us. What difference does it make what it says on my birth certificate? I'm the one you've been spending time with, and I'm the one you kissed. That hasn't changed."

"What's changed is I've realized I made a mistake."

Her breath sucked in, pain twisting her heart worse than if he'd slapped her. Cady thought she might have seen regret on his face then, but she wasn't sure if he regretted the harsh words, or kissing her in the first place.

"Just... the safest thing you can do is stay away from me."

"The safest..." Her brow crumpled in confusion. "I don't understand. I'll stay out of your investigation if you want me to, but I thought..."

"It doesn't matter what you thought, I don't have time to babysit you," he said coldly, his entire body rigid and unyielding.

"Jesus Christ, who asked you to?" Her temper flared, a tightening in her throat making speech almost painful. "Don't me any favors, I don't need this." Turning on her heel, she left him in the hallway, unsure who she was madder at. Ian, for sticking his nose where it didn't belong, Ethan, for being such a jackass, or herself, for letting him get to her in the first place. He was just a guy she'd met a couple of days ago – why did she care if he didn't want to see her anymore?

There were plenty of other fish in the sea, tons of guys who'd fall all over themselves if she smiled their way. She didn't need him and his weird hang-ups. That was probably all that intrigued her in the first place, the fact that she'd had to pursue him for a change. Her rational mind could recognize it easily. He wasn't even her type when she thought about it.

So why did she swallow back tears as she leaned against the inside of the door?

"You suck," Cady fired at her brother as she swept past the couch, intent on reaching her bedroom before the tears began to fall.

"You're welcome," he called back cheerily, waving a hand in the air. "I'm trying to look out for you and you know it, Cady."

"Everybody's trying to look out for me," she breathed, plopping onto the fabric covered stool in front of her mirrored dressing table. It was one of the few pieces she'd kept from her childhood bedroom. The white paint was scuffed and yellowed now, the flowers scratched and rubbed off in places. She couldn't lean much of her weight on it when she put her make up on, but Cady was loathe to junk it. Apart from a few picture albums, there was very little that remained of her life before.

Studying her reflection in the mirror, she tried to see what they saw. To her own eyes she didn't look young and vulnerable, or in need of any protection. She'd always regarded herself as strong, able to keep the household going after their mother took off. Keeping Ian in clean socks and underwear after her father died. Giving up her dream of Stanford to keep food on the table.

Most days it didn't bother her. She didn't dwell on what her life had become. What was the point? Pragmatic, she'd done what was necessary to move on. Why else would she be working at a dive like Spanky's? Just like she hadn't spent months moping over Stefan; she'd moved on, deciding to give dating a rest. And then Ethan...

It hurt her more to think about Ethan than she thought it would. With a few minutes of reflection, she could recognize that his parting words were designed to push her away more than anything else. Her own heated response proved his theory that she was too young for him rather than disproved it. Maybe he was right? Maybe it was better to end it before it got a chance to progress beyond a kiss or two if he was unable to get past her age?

Taking in a deep, calming breath, she rubbed at her eyes, wiping away the smudges of eyeliner that had migrated south. Her life wasn't so bad. She had Ian, and she loved him, even if she planned to put cayenne pepper in his coffee the next time he asked her for a cup. Screw romance, she didn't need more than Netflix could provide. She'd spent plenty of time never more than glancing at her next door neighbor. She could do it again.

Chapter Fourteen

Discontent.

Unused to the weak emotion, Asherik chased after the ecstasy of death, this time relishing the terror in her eyes as he felt the heart quiver and stop, but it didn't last. He reveled in the vigor of his new body, silently thanking her for showing him the delights of punishing strength, but it wasn't enough. Dissatisfaction welled, chasing away the pleasant glow of power, before the blood had even grown cold.

He needed more.

He had to see her again.

But not in person, not yet. There was more he wanted to learn before he tasted her fear in this plane. A slave to the convention, Ash waited for her to surrender to dreams, each passing hour finding it more difficult to hold onto the unfamiliar patience.

He hated waiting.

A creature of impulse, he considered how best to drive his quarry into the open. Perhaps a box of chocolates laced with Seconal would send her into a deep sleep? There, he might have her, powerless to resist him under the sway of drugs.

Something about that thought did not appeal, though he didn't understand why. It was important for him to possess her through his own achievement. He wanted to punish the girl for thwarting him, for turning his own construct against him. He wanted to see her pretty eyes half lidded with desire, begging him for release before they widened in fear. He wanted to corrupt her soul before he devoured it. He wanted her to say his name, his true name, and know him before he destroyed her.

The thought had him hard and lusting for the feel of another woman in his arms. Ash stepped away from the soiled mess at his feet, padding naked to the shower to wash off the remnants of decay. His new body gleamed under the glistening stream, the play of muscles under skin almost hypnotic, but he didn't let himself become distracted.

It was time to hunt again.

* * *

Ethan stood under the hot spray of water, drowning himself in the misery that clung to his skin. The way she'd felt in his arms, the stir of emotions he'd long thought dead by design. The laughter and acceptance he'd found in her eyes, only to see them cloud with pain. Pain he'd put there when he pushed her away, and finally the scorn of rejection.

He allowed himself to wallow in it, the brief, shining moments of pleasure chased by sorrow for as long as the hot water held out, and then locked it away as he turned off the tap. There was too much work to be done to let himself be distracted by something as fleeting as feelings.

There were ways to track the demon he hunted; he wasn't as completely in the dark as he'd let on to Cady. As Ethan toweled himself off, he did his best to push her from his thoughts, a whispered curse leaving his lips at how easily she'd slipped in there again.

Without bothering to dress, he went into his office, grabbing a stick of white chalk to draw a circle on the worn floorboards, large enough for him to comfortably kneel in. Next came the careful inscribing of protective sigils, in case his quarry should find him in the ether and try to follow him back. It was too much to hope that he might find the host the demon wore now, but he'd had luck in finding the face of his next intended victim.

Setting the chalk aside, Ethan knelt within the circle, closing his eyes to gather the stillness around him. The ancient words began to form in his head, and when he had them fixed in his mind, they tumbled from his lips. "Dominus in lucem, mittere signum. In sapientia tua precor." He began to rock slowly, the words forming their own rhythm as he repeated the chant over and over again until he achieved a kind of trance.

Visions of Cady filled his senses, her laugh, the spill of fiery hair down her back, her pure, clean scent. Ethan allowed himself the brief distraction of her beauty before he made his mind a blank slate, unsure if she'd snuck in there because of his weakness or if the demon still wanted her.

Neither was acceptable.

Concentrating on the inky blackness of discipline, only when he was sure he'd reached a blank state did he open himself to the vision again, nearly losing his rhythm when Cady's image beckoned to him again.

"Shit." The room spun as he released the energy without grounding himself, and Ethan grit his teeth as vertigo swelled and then receded. Twice more, he tried to access the visions, and each time he only saw Cady. Fingers threaded through a metal cage, bored out of her mind, as her blonde friend chatted amiably to a man on the other side of the partition. Sitting in a Laundromat, paging through a magazine. Nothing about either sets of images showed him anything dangerous or out of the ordinary. He had to conclude that it was his own subconscious subverting the process.

Stumped, he dressed swiftly, eating something tasteless from the freezer before going down to the parking garage. The interior of his car reeked of blood, and he realized he'd have to get a new one before too long. He drove with the windows open, losing the cool of the air conditioner, but gaining relief from the smell.

There were still things he could do to track down the subject. He'd already found the address for the last host body, the art gallery and the private home. Ethan didn't think there was much point in checking out the gallery, but the house might yield some clue as to Q's actions.

The modern three bedroom house would probably command a price well in excess of a million dollars, the view alone guaranteed it. A high tech security system was the rule in a house like that, and this one proved no exception. Ethan didn't let it worry him, nor did it bother him to approach the house in broad daylight. With his skills, he could easily get around even the most sophisticated security systems, and the house probably wasn't being watched.

There were no signs of police entry or caution tape, since Claudio hadn't been killed in his home, but it was reasonable to expect they'd already been through the place with a fine toothed comb. Ethan only hoped to find something the police wouldn't recognize as valuable intel, something that would lead him to the monster behind the man.

The alarm took less than two minutes to bypass, the fancy deadbolt even less. In the space of a few minutes he stood in the marble tiled foyer, taking in the lay of the land. Ethan was methodical in his search; starting with the bedroom, he went through every single drawer, searching between neatly folded clothes. He stuck his hands in every pocket, making sure to replace them in exactly the same position, repeating the process in the large, walk-in closet. After that he moved to the bathroom, then the vacant rooms and the living room, ending with the kitchen. The entire search took nearly an hour, and what did he find?

Nothing. Not a goddamned thing.

He even took the time to crack the wall safe, finding only a woman's diamond bracelet and two thick bundles of cash. Ethan pocketed both before securing the safe. The man wouldn't be needing it anytime soon, and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave it around for Q to use. Not that he thought the demon would be coming back. He tended not to dwell on the past, from what Ethan could tell. Except in one aspect.

Ethan drove to the Department of Motor Vehicles on Fell Street, waiting for the last dawdling employees to leave for the day. All it had taken was a couple grand and a disgruntled janitor to slip into the branch one night and install the beautiful little line of code that allowed him access when the system went into night mode without ever having to step back inside the building.

If his hunch was right, Q might obsess about one past issue that could lead Ethan right to him – the victim he was denied. On the one side, he hoped that he was wrong, because if there was a chance the demon wanted Penny, then the equal chance existed that he might come after Cady. But he'd sensed no danger in his visions of Cady, so he focused his search on her friend.

Ethan knew her first name, coloring and guessed her age to be somewhere between nineteen and twenty-five, giving himself a wider range since Cady proved to be younger than he'd thought. Of course he could always call Cady and ask where Penny lived, but it was better to make a clean break.

It didn't take long to find her anyway, Penelope Abrams, on Lawton Street. Now that he had her full name, it was easy to find other things about her too. Her employer, social security number, immediate family's names and addresses, an article about her engagement in the Chronicle.

Taking a chance when he found her not at home, he slipped inside, making only a cursory search of the small apartment before placing a bug in the living room behind a vase of silk flowers, and one in the bedroom on the underside of a framed print of Water Lilies by Monet. By the time the petite brunette came home to her one bedroom apartment, Ethan had a pretty good feel for the woman. This one would be easy to keep tabs on.

Penny stayed in for the night, with a marathon of schmaltzy cable movies on the television. One phone call to the fiancée, Justin Larsen, and then to bed by ten o'clock. Sitting alone in the darkened car, he listened to the soft snore over his equipment. If she was truly his target, Ethan expected Q to find her just as easily. He only hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake in leaving Cady unprotected.

Chapter Fifteen

Cady lay on an unfamiliar bed, under a canopy of white silk, sheer enough to see the stars through. Hard, gray stone covered the floor, worn smooth from years of exposure to the elements in the open air boudoir. Pillars sheathed in the same stone marked the edges of the platform, and there were stone stairs visible below, stretching impossibly far. The bed itself was draped in black satin and crepe, a mound of pillows propping her up in a semi-reclined position.

She wore something gauzy and filmy that stirred with the breeze, only barely covering her body. Despite the height and the open air, Cady wasn't cold, but the sudden press on the bed made her shiver. Reclining beside her was a man, both familiar to her and not. Clad in black satin pajama bottoms and nothing else, he gave her a crooked smile. Tattoos marked his shoulders and arms, heightening the bulge of muscles there with a burst of color. But despite the fighter's body he didn't look at all brutish.

"You," she breathed, unable to shake the idea that she'd met him before.

His smile stretched wider. "As you made me."

As she'd made him... it reminded her of a dream, though she couldn't quite recall all the details. Was she dreaming now?

The man leaned forward, his eyes focused on her lips. "Do you accept me?"

Her hand came up to press against the wall of his chest. "Not so fast, I don't even know you."

"You know me." Her light touch stopped him, but his neck craned, lips seeking her skin. "You've felt me above you before."

"I don't think so." She dodged the kiss, pressing more firmly. "I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that."

He chuckled, the sound reverberating around them like a cloud. "I could show you, if you like. Perhaps that might jog your memory?"

"Maybe some other time." Cady scooted away from him to sit on the edge of the bed, peering over the edge of the platform to where the stairs disappeared into nothingness.

"Is this not romantic enough for you?" He frowned, propping his head up with one hand.

"It's beautiful," she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest as she found the skimpy top of her negligee too see through for her tastes. "But it feels a little like a Bugs Bunny cartoon. You know, that one with the opera music before it gets to the Kill the Wabbit part." His head canted to one side, clearly confused by her reply, and she shrugged. Maybe he'd never gotten into classic cartoons the way she had.

The sky above looked swollen and bruised, choked with inky clouds as if it might rain at any second, cloaking the moon in velvety darkness. Hadn't it been clear and starlit just moments before? "I don't think we should be up here if it starts to storm. We might get struck by lightning."

"No harm will come to you here, I promise you that." He slid across satin sheets to press a kiss to her bare shoulder and Cady shivered again, gooseflesh covering her skin. "I only want to know you," he purred, the words teasing the edge of her memory.

"No, you only want to do me. God, even in my dreams guys only want one thing," she muttered in disgust before the realization struck. If this was a dream, that meant she had control of it too. The roiling night sky was quickly replaced with pale blue, the sun blazing overhead. The silken bower disappeared and the rolling green of a public park came into view, a wooden bench beneath them instead of the soft bed.

A groan came from the man by her side. "This place again," he muttered. "Your fascination with it escapes me." The black pajama pants were gone, replaced by jeans and a t-shirt that strained to fit around his biceps.

It struck Cady that he really did seem familiar. "We have met before, haven't we?"

"More than you know." In the direct sunlight she could see just how blue his eyes were, and the pucker of a scar on his forehead.

"There's something about you..." she sighed, giving up on placing it. "But you're not real, are you?"

"How do you mean?"

"This is just a dream."

"How can you be sure?" The lopsided smile was back, and she could see his bottom teeth were crooked. Her kryptonite, and pure proof that it had to be a dream.

"Because if this were real life I wouldn't be talking to a guy like you."

"Why not? Am I not pleasing?"

"That's not what I mean. I'm done with men, especially ones that seem too good to be true."

He didn't lose his smile. "If that's what you prefer..." The air around him shimmered, and he morphed into a stunning woman with long, dark hair and a body made for sin. Not that she'd ever had leanings towards the same sex, but the woman was tempting enough to almost make her consider it.

"Whoa," Cady gasped. "This is one freaky dream."

"Don't you like this form?" The woman's hand slid over supple curves to edge toward her knee and Cady scooted back six inches.

"It's great, but... when I said I was done with men, I didn't mean..."

"Ah, I understand," she nodded pleasantly, changing back to his original form. "Is this better?"

"I guess so." Cady felt oddly off balance, though he hadn't moved any closer to her even after she pulled away. What was she so jumpy about?

"You like this body?" Muscles bunched and flexed, drawing her eyes.

"It's a nice body alright," she admitted, and he leaned forward, capturing her gaze with his.

"You want me, don't you?"

It was so over the top, such an attempt at "bedroom eyes" that it had the opposite of its intended effect. "God, what a line," she laughed. "You ought to be careful, if your head swells any bigger you'll fall over."

His brows drew together into a single line. "I don't understand it. How can you resist my charms?"

"Hey, don't take it personally," she sobered. "It's not that I don't find you all kinds of sexy. Maybe if I wasn't so..."

"So what?" He leaned forward eagerly, hanging on her every word, but she didn't have the words to explain why she couldn't let go.

"I don't know. Like I said, this is a weird dream. I can't usually tell I'm dreaming when I'm in the middle of one."

"Then if I were to sweep you off your feet?"

His hopeful expression made her laugh, the vulnerability there relaxing her. "I don't know, maybe. But, fun and games aside, I'll be honest with you. I'm not into sex without love. I've seen what it does to people up close and personal. It's not for me."

"Love?" he blinked, as if she'd said a foreign word.

"Yeah, you know – love is all you need, love makes the world go around, love is the answer – all that good stuff."

"I don't see what one has to do with the other."

"Hence, another reason why we're not going at it right now." She nudged his shoulder with her elbow.

He fell silent for a few minutes, processing that, or possibly thinking about baseball, it was impossible to tell. The sky above darkened as clouds gathered, and Cady frowned, the sun returning after a few seconds of concentration. When he spoke again, it startled her, she'd been so intent on her task. "Tell me about love."

"Tell you about love?" She let out a long breath. "Where do I begin? Love is... all encompassing. You feel it not just with your heart, but all the way down to your toes. It's dizzying and electric, exciting... there's nothing else like it." Cady paused for a breath, gratified to find him hanging on her every word. "You can't think, can't eat, can't sleep, can't do anything without wanting to be near the one you love. You'd do anything for that person, no matter what it costs you."

"Sounds unpleasant."

The disgruntled expression on his face made her laugh. "It can be, but mostly it's the closest we come to magic."

"It sounds so... vulnerable."

"Sometimes, but that's what makes us human, right? Besides, if you're lucky, that other person loves you right back, and then it's all worth it."

"And what if they don't love you back?"

Her thoughts turned to Ethan and the sting of his rejection. Was that love? It was too fleeting, she barely knew him. But there was something, or at least the potential for something.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly, when she didn't reply.

"It's fine. Caring about someone and not having them care about you does suck. It can be really lonely."

"I know about loneliness."

"You do?" It struck her that he had a lot of idiosyncrasies for a dream lover.

"I do. I've always been apart. I know what obsession tastes like, but not love."

A curious way of putting it. "Well, hang in there, maybe someday you'll find it."

"Could you love me?"

The question caught her off guard. "I... this isn't real, this is only a dream."

"All dreams have a seed of reality to them. Were I to come to you in the world, would you love me then?"

"I don't know, you seem very nice. But I guess I'd have to get to know you better." God, what a weird dream.

"Know you better than this?" he doubted, head tilting to one side. "I already know all I need to."

"You know, love at first sight doesn't really happen," she laughed. "I don't know anything about you. Where you're from, what your name is, what kind of beer you like to drink, if you have brothers and sisters."

"All that is necessary for love?"

"Not all of it, I guess, but it helps."

He fell into silence again, and Cady turned her attention to the kids playing in the park.

"Who do you wait for?" he asked after a while.

"What? Who says I'm waiting for anyone?"

"You come here and sit. Last time there was food, but you didn't eat. What are you waiting for?"

"I... don't know, I like this park. I used to come here as a kid with my brother and my father."

"And the food?"

"It's a picnic. Or it was supposed to be." She shook her head. "It's stupid."

"Tell me." His voice was gentle as he touched her chin, drawing her gaze to his, and Cady found herself unable to look away.

"We were supposed to meet for a picnic. I packed a huge amount of food, but you should have seen how much Ian and my dad could put away. Anyway, Ian was here, but definitely more interested in a blonde nanny by the playground than hanging out with me. I didn't care though, it was a gorgeous sunny day, and I found a nice shady spot under that tree," Cady pointed.

"I waited and waited, fending off attacks from ants and yellow jackets, but Daddy didn't come. Eventually I fell asleep, I guess. Finally, Ian remembered me and woke me up, helped me pack things up to go home. We weren't that worried, because he had to work crazy hours all the time, being a cop. But he didn't come home that night either, and he didn't answer his phone.

The next morning we had a visit from the Captain. He'd been shot and killed the night before." It didn't hurt to say the words anymore, nearly ten years had passed, but they still made her sad, reflective.

"Why would you wish to return here?"

"That was the last afternoon I had where I hoped to see him again. Sometimes, he comes back, in my dreams. We sit and talk, eat the food I brought. He calls me Cady-bear and yells at Ian to stop sniffing after that girl and come join the party. That's why I still come here."

"Doesn't it bother you that it isn't really your father?"

"I don't know, most of the time I'm not conscious of the fact that I'm dreaming, I'm not analyzing it as I go. Mostly I just find it comforting. Besides, maybe it is him, in a way, coming to me in my dreams."

"No, he isn't here. He's moved on."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I am, I would have felt him lingering," he said with absolute conviction.

"Um... okay," she replied, not sure what to say to that.

"I could comfort you," he offered out of the blue, and she smiled, patting his hand.

"You already are, in a way."

"I could make you feel much, much better." His fingers turned her hand over, lightly tracing the lines that crossed her palm.

"I told you, I don't um..." It was hard to form words when his fingers grazed up the inside of her wrist, circling the butterfly tattoo before continuing up towards her elbow.

"But as you say, this is only a dream."

"That's true..."

"So where is the harm?" He smiled that crooked smile, devoid of the smarmy come on, and she found it particularly difficult to resist.

"I, um..." Cady licked her lips, trying to find the right words. What were her objections again?

"Do you accept me?" He closed the distance between them, eyes focused on her lips, and this time Cady didn't move away. She let him kiss her, his lips surprisingly full and soft. If he'd pressed for more she might have shied away, but he seemed content to continue the slow, drugging kiss. Fingers brushed across the curve of her neck, following the collar of her shirt, and electricity danced across her skin in their wake. "Do you accept me?" he whispered against her lips, and Cady made a sound, something between a yes and a no. She hardly knew what she wanted anymore.

It was a dream, where was the harm?

"Do you accept me?" His voice reverberated through her mind, though his lips were busy.

"Yes."

Chapter Sixteen

The kiss shifted, gentle exploration giving way to urgency, hunger building between them. His hands, no longer content to brush over her clothes, delved deeper, seeking bare skin, kneading, grasping. It was as if he touched her everywhere at once, and giving in to her dormant needs, Cady slid her hands up under his shirt. His body was rock-hard and masculine, the ridges of muscle under her fingertips bunching and shifting under her touch.

In a blur of movement he had her pressed back into the fragrant grass, the blades tickling her bare skin. His expert touch distracted her from everything but living in the moment, but in the corner of her mind Cady was dimly aware that something felt wrong. It was all moving too quickly. Her heart beat too fast, her mind clouded and dizzy as she wrenched her lips from his.

"Stop," she gasped, but he fell to kissing along the underside of her jaw, undeterred.

"You want me, I can feel it."

"I didn't want..." Unable to articulate the sudden fear that gripped her despite the pleasant sensations he still wrung from her body, she turned away from his kiss. "It's too much. I can't breathe."

"Let me love you, Cady. I want to know."

"Know what?" He kept up his tender assault, lips questing, fingers coaxing, the world spinning and spinning until she felt him pressing against her thigh and panic surged again. "I said stop!" She shoved against his chest and he went sprawling, landing in a heap several feet away. Tugging her clothes back to rights, she darted a look at him, surprised to see him unmoving. "Are you okay?"

He made no move to cover himself, lying back against the grass, one knee crossed over the other. "I don't understand," he said dully, staring up at the sky. "You were enjoying it. I didn't force you."

"I know, I was," she admitted, taking a deep, steadying breath. Even now, her heart still raced like a thoroughbred. "I don't know what happened, I felt like... like I couldn't catch my breath. Like... I might die if we didn't stop."

"I'm sorry." He rolled toward her, features twisted with regret and possibly a bit of fear. "I lost control, I didn't mean to take so much."

"For what? It's not your fault, really. It's me, I'm all screwed up inside. I can't even enjoy a freaking dream," she laughed, falling back to stare at the branches overhead. Trust her to get a panic attack the first time a hot guy showed up in her dreams.

"It doesn't have to be a dream. You have only to call and I will come."

Cady turned her head to find him staring at her intently. "What are you talking about?"

"Wake and call my name. I will find you."

"I don't even know your name." That was a sobering thought. Did he even have a name?

"Yes, you do," he smiled. "If you listen well enough, you'll hear it."

And then she was alone, lying on the grass. Cady listened, straining to hear his name as promised. "What's your name?" A sound teased the edge of her senses, but it was too wispy, snatched away by the breeze before it reached her ears. "What's your name?" she called out again.

Jolted awake, Cady fell back against the pillow, feeling more tired than when she'd gone to bed. She lay there thinking about the incredibly vivid dream and her strange would-be lover. There was a heavy ache between her legs, frustration lingering after the abrupt ending to the promise of delights. Returned to reality, she could give herself a mental kick for stopping him from finishing what they'd started. What was the harm in a little fantasy? It wasn't like sleeping around with real guys.

Dragging, she took a slow, lingering shower, the dream gradually slipping away and images of another tattooed man sliding into her waking thoughts. Was that why she'd dreamed of a man pursuing her so relentlessly? To counter the sting of Ethan's rejection? Woodenly, she went through the motions of the day, hoping to run into him in the hallway, or the elevator, but he'd gone back to whatever it was he did to pursue his investigation.

Days went by with no sign that Ethan even still lived next door, and for all she knew he'd moved away. She fell into a lazy rhythm of work, and sleep, lacking the energy for much else. More of a rut, really; she resisted any attempts from friends or her brother to do more than roll into bed after work.

The dreams came every night, strangely lucid dreams that she recalled with perfect clarity upon waking. The details varied, but he was always there, her dream lover, or wannabe lover, at any rate. After the first dream he stopped trying to seduce, content to let her set the scene, eager to talk to her, and get to know her. In the construct of the dreams they took walks in the park, along the shore, once he took her to the top of Coit Tower to see the city sprawling below.

He brought her gifts at first, but when she failed to gush over the sparkling jewelry, he worked harder at tempting her. A single rich truffle, a bracelet of tumbled rose quartz, coffee that tasted of cinnamon and spices, a single flower. There was always a tender kiss before he left her and the sense that he was tightly restrained. With a single word, she could unleash the dizzying passion she'd felt before, but something kept her from uttering it.

After all their talks, she still knew precious little about him, even his name continued to elude her. But she enjoyed his mixture of world weary charm and unexpected wonder when she showed him the simplest of things, like the joy of peanut butter and chocolate.

It became so that she preferred the dream world to her own, and that scared her when she stopped to think about it. That and the way she shuffled through life, dull and listless, only feeling truly alive when he was by her side. Something about it made her mistrust the dreams, convincing her that it wasn't normal. She had to break the cycle.

Instead of lingering for as long as possible, she set her alarm for noon, determined to do something with the Saturday afternoon. Penny was happy to hear from her and readily agreed to meet at the movies. Sadly, a willing spirit was no match for her exhausted body, and halfway through the movie, Cady dozed in the cool, dark theater.

This time there was no dream lover waiting in the wings, and she dreamed of sailing a small boat across glassy water, in pursuit of a small, dark shape that never grew any bigger. Despite not getting closer to her quarry, Cady felt no frustration, enjoying the fresh tang of the air and the open sea.

Penny looked a little worried when she finally shook her awake, the tail end of the movie credits scrolling across the big screen. Mumbling an apology, Cady stretched her back first one way and the other, feeling much more vigorous even after such a relatively short rest.

"Geez, if you were so tired we could have done the movie another time."

"I'm sorry, Pen. I seem to be tired all the time lately."

"Maybe you should go to the doctor? Maybe you have mono or narcolepsy or something."

"Maybe I should go to a shrink," Cady sighed, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "I keep having these weird dreams."

"Oh, I love hearing about people's dreams." Penny's dark eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Tell me all about them, maybe we can figure out what they mean. Are they nightmares?"

"No, I wouldn't say that, not exactly." Cady led her out of the theater and into the heat of the afternoon, walking towards the park without thinking about it. Of course it wasn't the park, that was in a different part of town in her old neighborhood, too far to easily walk to. As they strolled, she told Penny about the gifts, the long walks on the beach, glossing over the more intimate details of the first dream.

"What's so bad about that?" Penny blinked when she was finished.

"Nothing, I guess. But I've been so tired lately, and it's kind of weird, me dreaming about the same guy every night, don't you think? Almost like I'm dating him in my mind."

"No, it makes perfect sense. Your subconscious keeps throwing a variation of the same set of circumstances at you, waiting for you to get some relief."

"So, you're saying I should sleep with him in the dream and then it'll all go away?" Cady laughed. She expected an answer like that from Kelli, but it surprised her to hear it from the usually reserved Penny.

"I'm saying it's only a dream. Why not go for it? It's not like you're getting any in real life, are you?"

"Well, no... but..." Cady felt like she hadn't done a good job at explaining the unreasoning terror she'd felt the one time she'd let him start to get close. "Penny, I can't help feeling like... if I give up my control and give in to him, I'll lose something."

"What could you possibly lose?"

"I can't explain it. I just know that the one time I accepted him I felt..." Cady froze as she caught a familiar reflection in the window. Was that...?

"Felt what?" Penny prompted, oblivious to the discovery.

It was Ethan. Now that she knew what to look for, it was easy to spot him loitering across the street, looking off in another direction. Was he following them? Only one way to find out... "Hey, let's go to that Chinese place around the corner."

"I don't want anything spicy, it's too hot out," Penny complained, but Cady grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her down the street anyway.

"We can see if they got their air conditioning fixed." In truth, she could care less where they ate, she only wanted to see if Ethan followed.

"Can't we eat something light instead? How about some frozen yogurt?"

"Fine, frozen yogurt is fine, just keep moving."

"Boy, you're grouchy today," Penny scowled, letting herself be led.

By the third block Cady spotted Ethan again, moving slowly, but still following in their same direction. "Hey, I need to stop here for a sec," she said once they turned the corner. I'll meet you in the froyo place in a minute."

"You need to see the bail bondsman?" Penny looked up at the sign dubiously.

"Yep, just for a sec." Cady didn't skip a beat. "I'll be there in a minute, okay?" She had to get out of sight before Ethan came into view.

"Okay..." Penny frowned, looking back over her shoulder at Cady as she continued down the street. Cady ducked into the office, crouching behind a fake potted palm, trying to ignore the dust while she kept watch on the street through the glass door.

"Jou nee some help, hoaney?" a heavily accented voice asked, and Cady darted a look behind to flash the heavy set, Hispanic woman a quick smile.

"No, I'm good, thanks."

"Jou got a appoinmen?"

"Yes, um I do. But I'm early. Don't mind me, I'll just wait here."

"What tingh is you appoinmen, hoaney?"

"Um, three." Cady had no idea what time it actually was, her internal clock was all messed up lately.

"Eet's already three-thoorty."

Ethan strolled past the door, not so much as glancing in her direction and Cady came out of her hiding place. "Oh, sorry to bother you then," she smiled, slipping out the door and falling into step behind him. He approached the frozen yogurt shop slowly, glancing inside casually before crossing the street. Cady jogged after him, ignoring the slow moving traffic, like he did. He spotted her when he turned to lean against the building, his shoulders sagging in recognition.

"Funny meeting you here," she called out when he looked like he might walk away.

"Not really, it's my neighborhood too."

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Cady challenged him, but he merely shrugged. "So, you're not following me then?"

Ethan shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "No, I'm not following you."

"Oh come on, I saw you back there blocks ago. Do you expect me to believe you just happen to be going the exact same way?"

"I'm not following you," he insisted stubbornly. "I'm just making sure Penny is okay."

"Penny?" she blinked in surprise. "Why wouldn't Penny be okay?"

"You know why."

"Have there been any other victims? I haven't been watching the news lately." She hadn't been doing much of anything lately.

"No, which is why I'm back to watching out for Penny, waiting to see if they'll make a move on her next." He darted a look to the frozen yogurt's entrance. "You didn't tell her about any of this, did you?"

"No, of course not. But... don't you think maybe I should? If you're following her you must think she's in danger."

"It's only a precaution, at least until I get some indication where he's hunting again. Please don't tell Penny I'm following her, it'll make it a lot harder to keep tabs on her."

"Alright, but maybe I should stay with her for a couple of days." Penny lived alone, which made her a lot more vulnerable.

"No, don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll end up making it worse."

She scowled at that, waiting to see if he explained his reasoning, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were a few choice swear words uttered under his breath. Cady looked up to see Penny at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Neither one of them spoke as they waited for her to approach.

"Hey, what's up? I thought you were coming in to get some yogurt." Penny smiled at Ethan expectantly. "Who's this?"

"This is..."

"David," Ethan interrupted with the briefest of smiles. "David Brown. Nice to meet you. It's Penny, right?" They shook hands while Cady stared, wondering why he felt the need to give a fake name. Then again, the name on his mailbox was D. Brown. Maybe Ethan was the fake name?

"How do you two know each other?" Penny asked, looking between them.

"We live in the same building," he answered glibly. "Listen, I didn't mean to interrupt your girls' day out. Cady, I..." Ethan hesitated before giving her a helpless shrug. "You have a great afternoon."

"Yeah, I'll see you around, David," Cady said dryly.

"He seems nice," Penny commented, after he was gone. Not gone, because Cady knew he'd be hanging around somewhere nearby, but out of sight now.

"I'm not sure nice is the right word for him." Cady hadn't been sure if Penny recognized him from Inferno or not, and she couldn't remember how much she'd told her about him before. It was Kelli who'd gotten an earful about her sexy neighbor and his tattoos. What could she say now? "He sort of blew me off the other day."

"Really? He seemed friendly enough to me. Maybe a little awkward, but he had nice eyes. Oh, is that the guy you went home with the other night? The one with the sexy tattoos?"

"I didn't go home with him like that, I was helping him out. And what do you know about his tattoos?"

"Kelli said something about you stripping him to get a look at his sexy tattoos."

Trust that to be the only thing Kelli took out of the conversation. "I did not strip him down just to get a look at his tattoos, you could see some of them for yourself." They'd been visible down one arm and peeking from the neckline of his shirt as he'd walked away.

"I didn't notice any tattoos."

"How could you not have noticed them? You were standing right there. The one that goes down his arm is pretty noticeable."

"I'm just saying, I didn't see any tattoos," Penny shrugged. "I get it now though, why you're obsessed with your dream man."

The whole business with the tattoos didn't make sense to Cady. She could have sworn he didn't have them when she first met him, but now she could see them and Penny either couldn't, or had turned into the most unobservant person in the world.

"What?" Drawn from her reverie, Cady struggled to recall Penny's last words in an order that made sense. "Wait, what does this have to do with my dreams?"

"I can't believe you don't see it," Penny shook her head sadly. "You're hung up on that David guy. He's the one you should go after."

"What? That's crazy, I hardly know him," Cady scoffed, even as her eyes tried to pick him out on the street.

"Oh please, I could tell by the way you looked at him."

"He doesn't want me, he made that perfectly clear."

"And that bothers you."

"So? Of course it bothers me, the guy was a total jerk about it."

"It bothers you because you like him."

"This isn't high school, Penny. It doesn't matter if I like him, I can't make him like me back."

"I think he already likes you back."

Her eyes found him then, catching his gaze briefly before he looked away, pretending to study the menu taped to the window down the street. "Then he has a shitty way of showing it."

Chapter Seventeen

The washing machines were full in the basement laundry room, all four of them. Cady could wait until later, but she already had the bulging bag slung over one shoulder, the basket with soap and fabric softener in her arms, her pockets jingling with quarters. Ian needed at least one clean shirt for work that night, so she decided to trudge up the stairs and head to the Laundromat a couple of blocks away.

In general, she hated doing laundry, but at least this way she wouldn't be stuck in the dingy laundry room for a couple of hours. She'd already learned the hard way that the signs that said "don't leave your laundry unattended" weren't kidding.

Most people in the neighborhood had been flocking to the Laundromat by the soup kitchen that offered internet gambling while you wait. For five dollars an hour, you could sit at a computer and play all kinds of games for a chance to win up to three grand. There was even a big spin type deal. Lucky regulars who clocked in enough hours could walk away with a carton of smokes or a bottle of booze.

So there were plenty of machines open in the middle of the afternoon at the regular Laundromat that boasted Court TV on the battered screen bolted to the ceiling, and Cady filled two of them. Running to the newsstand across the street, she bought a copy of a magazine showcasing articles like: "Twenty Days to a New You" and "Ten of the Hottest New Looks This Summer". Satisfied that no one had tampered with her clothes in the short time she'd been away, Cady settled into one of the hard plastic seats and leafed through the magazine.

"Hello."

The voice startled her; she hadn't even noticed the guy sit a couple of seats down from her. "Hi," she replied, looking back down at her magazine, hoping he wasn't a talker. There was nothing worse than being stuck someplace for a couple of hours with a talker.

"It's me."

Cady looked up, her eyes narrowing as she studied him closer. "Do I know you?" She didn't think so. Dressed in a white t-shirt and cargo pants over scuffed boots, he fit into the neighborhood alright, but he didn't look familiar. Cute, with short, bristly hair and hazel eyes, he stared at her expectantly before his expression crumpled in disappointment.

"No," he frowned. "I suppose not. I'm sorry to bother you."

"That's okay, it happens," she smiled briefly, turning back to her magazine. Instead of moving on, he slid into the next seat, leaving only one space between them. "I meant it's okay that you bugged me once. That doesn't mean I feel like talking."

"But you love to talk." His brow crumpled in confusion.

"I... guess I do, but usually with people I know."

"How else would you get to know me?" he grinned. "You can call me Ash."

He really was cute, but come on. Hitting on women in a Laundromat? How cliché could you get? Cady bit back a smile, returning her eyes to the printed word without replying. She didn't want to encourage him.

"I don't suppose you'd like to go somewhere and talk?"

"No, thank you." Now she sounded like Ethan. "I pretty much have to stay here with my laundry."

"Afterwards then?"

"No, thank you." Nervously, she chewed on the inside of her lip, not looking up at him, hoping he'd give up.

"No, of course not. Something public. Something safe," he murmured. "A walk in the park? Or maybe on the beach?"

It wasn't the usual offer of a drink or a date, and she couldn't resist looking up at him again. Why was he trying so hard? "No, thanks. I'm not..."

"You've given up on men, I forgot," he muttered distractedly, scratching at his forehead.

"What did you say?"

"You smell so good." His head dipped forward suddenly. "I don't remember you smelling this good."

What a total nutjob... "Um, thanks, gotta love the April fresh scent of Downy." Cady looked around, wondering if anyone would help if she squawked. "Listen, I think maybe you'd better go sit over there." Cady gestured to the other side of the room with the back of her magazine, rolling it tightly in her hands in case she had to use it as a weapon.

"What don't you like about me?" His brow crumpled in dismay, making no sign of moving. "I'm very muscular, and I've been smiling plenty. Do I need more tattoos?" He lifted the sleeve on one shoulder to expose more of the design there.

"What?" She had trouble following him, it was like they were having two different conversations.

"Should I have brought you a gift?" he asked earnestly. "I didn't know where to find wildflowers in this place."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you're making me really uncomfortable."

All at once he seemed to clue into her distress. "This is all wrong." He lurched to his feet, eyes darting around uneasily. "I'm sorry to have troubled you."

Cady stared after him, making sure he wasn't about to double back. She caught the eye of a careworn woman trying to keep two toddlers entertained while her clothes dried. "It takes all kinds," the rawboned woman shrugged. "At least he didn't whip it out."

"Thank God for small miracles."

Chapter Eighteen

"Total waste of time," Ethan growled, throwing his worn army jacket against the couch in frustration. The late afternoon sun baked his apartment with punishing heat, and he threw open all the windows, pacing in agitation until the cross breeze offered some relief. Ordinarily the heat didn't bother him so much, but all the inactivity had worn his nerves to a frazzle.

How many nights had he spent parked outside of Penny's apartment building? And for what? Nothing, not a goddamned thing. Closely scouring all the news outlets, no other victims had turned up either. For all he knew, subject Q had picked up and moved to another city.

He'd stopped trying to access the visions, all they showed him was Cady, Cady, Cady. It was like an obsession, and he didn't know whose it was, his or the demon's.

It was past time for another Company update, but Ethan had been putting it off, hoping for something to actually report. Even now, he set the phone down instead of making the call. Hanging up his thrown jacket neatly and pouring himself a cooling glass of tea – anything to delay the account of his utter failure.

Finally, he decided he might as well get it over with, going through the motions to identify himself until the familiar feminine voice prompted him to report.

"Currently still in pursuit of subject Q. Subject has not surfaced in days, no additional casualties to report."

"Do you believe the subject is still in play?"

"Yes, I think so. He's probably laying low, picking the right opportunity to strike." The line went silent for a few seconds, and Ethan fancied he heard the sound of keys tapping.

"Intel indicates that is highly unlikely, given the nature of the subject," she said after a pause. "Subject Q is characterized by his impulsive, often irrational behavior, premeditation does not fit the profile."

"I'm aware of that," Ethan replied shortly. "But I nearly had him the last time, maybe that gave him something to think about." Regretting the words instantly, he pressed his lips together. The Company didn't deal in maybes. "Or, it's possible he's moved out of my sector."

"Stand by one." Another stretch of silence, followed by a series of clicks. "Do you require a diviner?"

It was tantamount to admitting to failure, but he was stuck. His visions were a complete and utter failure. It was almost like the subject was hiding from him, as out of character as that might seem. But if Q had moved out of the area, the Company deserved to know in order to activate another reaper.

"Shaw?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say yes, but at the last moment he changed his mind. He didn't want to bring Cady under the Company's radar, and who knew what a diviner might turn up? "No, that won't be necessary, I have other resources at my command. Standard protocols are still in effect."

Command proved to be an overly optimistic word, as Gobi's phone went straight to voicemail. The quirky psychic wasn't always the most reliable guy, but he'd helped him out before, and it was as good a place as any to start. Ethan was about to give up and try something else when he heard the tail end of the outgoing message.

"The message of the day is brought to you by Thomas A. Edison, Pisces, and badass inventor. Tommy reminds us that our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. So try me again, dudes and dudettes. Gobi don't do voicemail."

Try just one more time.

What could it hurt? If he got nothing, he'd go stalk Gobi's ass until he tracked him down. Ethan laid out the chalk circle, removing his shoes and socks. It was still unpleasantly hot in the apartment, and the windows were painted shut in his office, but he pushed aside his discomfort, focusing on grounding himself before he began.

"Dominus in lucem, mittere signum. In sapientia tua precor." Rocking in time to the chanted words, he opened himself to the universe. This time when he got images of Cady, he didn't shut them away in disgust. This time, he followed the vision, seeing where it led him. It was dark, but Ethan could make out her profile, lit by the sliver of pale moonlight from the window. She slept, at peace, in no visible danger.

As he watched, shadows played across her face, the light nearly obscured. A figure crept into the room, definitely male, definitely not her brother. He slipped in through the open window to stand at the foot of her bed, motionless. The moon lit half of his face and Ethan saw him clearly, lips parted in rapt attention as he watched the sleeping girl. The man was dressed in a t-shirt and cargo pants, a far cry from the tailored suits he usually preferred. To that end, he was handsome enough, but less of the pretty boy that Q usually chose. All the same, Ethan was certain it was him.

Cady shifted in her sleep, eyes half lidded as she noticed the intruder, and the man rushed forward, pressing his hand over her mouth.

"It's me," he said, eyes alight with fevered anticipation. "I forgot to tell you the most important thing." Cady struggled against his grasp, her nails sinking into his flesh hard enough to draw blood, but the man didn't so much as flinch, easily holding her down with one hand. "Shhh," he soothed, stroking her hair gently. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other, just like you wanted."

Ethan's eyes popped open as the image snapped off like a switch. The vivid clarity of the vision held tight to his mind, the feel of the night breeze coming in through the window, the terror in Cady's eyes, shiny and bright against the subdued light. His muscles propelled him out of the circle without thinking, lurching unsteadily from lack of grounding. All he knew was he had to get to Cady, he had to save her before that sick bastard took her. Because he knew it as surely as he knew his own name, Cady was the one the demon wanted.

He was halfway though strapping on his knives when it hit him – it was still light outside. There was plenty of time before the vision came to pass, if it was even slated to happen that night. Still, he had to see her, to prove to himself that she was alright. Strapping on the rusty blade and the shiny, black, obsidian dague anyway, Ethan stopped long enough to put on fresh socks and shoes, before knocking at her door.

No answer came, and he pressed his ear to the cracked, green paint, sure he heard traces of movement inside. He could break into her apartment no problem, but Ethan was leery of doing that. If it was her brother inside, there was no way to justify his actions, and Ian seemed like the physical type. He'd rather not have to hurt the guy, even if he was an occasional asshat, according to Cady.

That left the fire escape. From the layout of the building, he knew the fire escape was outside Cady's window, probably the way Q had chosen to break into her room. He also knew there was no platform outside his own bedroom window. Ducking his head outside, it was only a few feet from his window to hers. Without a ledge it'd be more difficult, but the ancient bricks afforded him plenty of hand and footholds. In just a few minutes, he'd worked his way over to her window, landing light as a cat on the metal grate.

Ethan peeked into the window, pushed wide open in the heat of the day. Cady lay on her stomach across the top of her bed, a pair of hot pink headphones covering both ears. Her hair was bound up in an intricate braid, keeping her shoulders cooler. The shorts she wore were brief, barely covering her curves, the strappy cotton top not doing much better to shield the top half of her body either.

Satisfied she was safe, he couldn't bring himself to move away from the window, despite feeling like a voyeur. Her bare legs moved with languid grace, bobbing to the unheard beat of the music – up and down – it was hypnotic. Cady leaned back to scratch the side of one supple thigh, her twisting movement affording him a deep view of ample cleavage. Ethan swallowed, feeling like the lowest pervert for intruding into her privacy. His knee knocked against the metal bar beside him as he prepared to withdraw, the movement catching her eye.

"Fuck a duck!" she yelled with impressive volume, rolling off the other side of the bed.

Ethan didn't know if it would be worse to stay or go, but her head popped up on the other side of the bed and he gave her an awkward wave. "Um, hi."

Cady tore the headphones free and threw them aside, her movements shaky. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"You didn't think showing up at my window would be a little creepy?"

"I tried your door, you didn't answer." It didn't seem like enough, but what else could he say?

She took a deep breath, rising from her crouched position to approach the window, no longer wary. "What happened to staying away from each other?" she challenged.

"This isn't a social call. I wanted to make sure you're alright." He thought he saw disappointment there, but maybe that was his own fancy.

Swiping a hand across her neck, she peered past him, out the window. "How long have you been out there?"

"Not that long."

"Do you want to come in?"

The invitation surprised him, but Ethan shook his head. "No, thank you." Still, he made no move to leave, and she perched on the sill after a few seconds of staring at him through the window. Ethan held his position, crouching on the fire escape. "No work tonight?" he guessed aloud.

"No, I have the night off."

"Where's your brother?"

"At the Sugar Shack." Her head tilted to one side, brown eyes regarding him steadily. "What are you really doing here? I thought you were guarding Penny."

What would she do, he wondered, if he told her everything? So far, she seemed to accept the rapid healing, the strange tattoos, the story about the cult without batting an eye. Part of him wanted to share it all with her, but years of training had him dealing in half truths. "I got a tip that you were in danger."

"The psychic again?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"What did they tell you?"

Ethan chose his words carefully, not wanting to scare her, but needing to warn her all the same. "That he was going to come after you tonight."

"From the cult, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Well, who is this guy? What should I be looking out for?"

"I'd say anyone who shows up at your window is a fair start. Apart from me, of course."

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Of course. What else can you tell me about him? Maybe we can get to him before he comes here."

He didn't like the sound of that one bit. "I don't know his name or where he lives, I just know what he looks like."

"Okay, then what does he look like?"

The image was fixed in his mind, but the basic description would never do. "Do you have a pencil and a piece of paper?"

"Sure, hold on a sec." Her long limbs folded inside and Cady disappeared into the other room. The seconds stretched on and Ethan considered going in after her, when she reappeared with a blank piece of printer paper in one hand and a green pencil in the other. "Sorry, this is all I had. Here, you can draw on this." From the bottom shelf of a small bookcase she produced an oversized children's book. The Bears Almanac.

"This'll be fine." Ethan set to work, pencil moving over the paper with light strokes at first, growing bolder as the face took shape. He drew the man half in shadow, as he'd first seen him. Cady watched him closely, as absorbed in the process as he was, until she twisted her head to get a better vantage point. A startled gasp left her lips as she snatched the unfinished drawing from his fingers.

"I saw this guy today!"

His fingers itched to grab the paper back; it wanted a little shading here, a bit more definition there, but her declaration drove that from his mind. "You did? Where?"

"At the Laundromat, earlier. I thought he was kind of weird, but... Are you sure he's one of them?"

He'd already made contact without hurting her? It was inconceivable. "Yes, I'm absolutely sure."

Her brow crumpled in confusion, staring at the man's face, unconvinced. "But... he seemed so... clueless. If he was planning to rape and kill me, he was terrible at it." She handed the drawing back to him. "If that's what we're up against, I think our chances are pretty good."

Again, the use of the word we made him uneasy. "Maybe he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security so you would go home with him?"

"If so he gave up awful easy."

"Then maybe he mostly wanted to follow you home so he could come back tonight, because that's the vision I saw. Him standing here, in your bedroom, at night."

"The vision you saw?" She arched a single brow. "I thought you went to a psychic."

"Really not the issue at hand here." He waved her off, regretting the slip of the tongue. It was getting harder to keep things from her.

"Okay, but apart from the weird factor, I didn't get much of a danger vibe off of him. He practically fell all over himself apologizing before he left."

"Tell me exactly what he said to you." Ethan listened as she recounted the odd conversation and his puzzlement grew. It didn't make sense. Why approach her like that? And why hadn't she been affected by his power? "So, you didn't feel the least bit like falling for him? Nothing like with the last guy?"

"With Claudio? No, nothing like that at all," she replied after a moment's thought. "Why, does he know how to hypnotize people too?"

"Yes, he should. They all share that ability."

"Then why didn't he make those bedroom eyes at me like last time? Why the weird pick up lines?"

"I don't know. Maybe he thought he could do it on his own." There were too many unknowns that made him uncomfortable with the situation. Usually the hunt was fairly straightforward. Track the subject by establishing his hunting grounds, use the visions to determine a likely target, and then trap the demon in the host long enough to perform the ritual of binding. Without variation he'd met with success time and again, but Q confounded him by playing this game of patience. What was he after?

"What's the plan then?" Cady asked, drawing him out of his reverie. "We use me as bait and wait for him to show up?"

He hadn't thought of it in quite those terms, but it was essentially correct. It wasn't how he'd have chosen to phrase it, despite the lack of fear she displayed in laying it out. "I won't let him hurt you, but you should keep your window locked at night, especially when your brother isn't home."

"In this heat, are you nuts?" She stared at him incredulously, but he didn't waver.

"Anyone could come in here, not just our guy. Especially with this thing right outside your window." His knuckles rapped on the metal grate.

"Oh come on, you can't even reach the ladder from the street level. Besides, why should I worry when I have you here to protect me?" She dazzled him with her smile, and it took Ethan a few moments to come up with the hard truth.

"I won't always be here for you."

"Then I guess I won't always be safe," she shrugged. "That's life though. Nothing is safe, you just have to live your life the best you can with the cards you're dealt. I could be attacked in my apartment or I could get mugged on the street tomorrow. What about you? Who keeps you safe?" Cady reached out, two fingers tracing one of his tattoos as it curved up the inside of his forearm. How she saw them at all still confounded him. Ethan held very still, the gentle touch a torture.

"I do," he admitted solemnly.

"But who takes care of you?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Sounds awful lonely." Her touch migrated up the curve of his bicep.

Maddening.

"It can be." His gaze fell to her beckoning lips, feeling the inexorable pull to taste them again. Without consciously making the decision to move, his head dipped closer and the light from the dying sun caught the glare of her mirror, temporarily blinding him.

The mirror.

Things started to click into place. Why the subject had gone for days without killing, why he kept seeing visions of Cady in innocuous places. The demon was stalking her from the dream world, stealing part of her soul while she slept. Though why... that still eluded him.

"What's the matter?" Cady prompted, and he realized he'd been staring at the mirror intently. Mouthing a string of expletives under his breath, he slipped past her into the room. She'd been unprotected the entire time because he hadn't thought to warn her.

"Come on in," she muttered dryly, but Ethan ignored the tone.

"You should keep this covered at night." Catching up a towel hanging from the end of her bed, he tossed it over the mirror.

"Why?"

"It's safer that way. I have to go." He slipped past her, before the inevitable questions surfaced.

"Hey, you're not going back out the window again, are you?"

"I was planning on it, why?"

She ducked past him to look out the window. "Why not go out the front door?"

"It's not that big of a deal." He could manage a five story drop in any case. It would hurt, but he'd survive it.

"Yeah, not if you're Spiderman. Just... humor me and go out the regular way, okay? It's the least you can do for me after all the weird things you keep asking me to do."

She had him there. "Alright. But promise me you'll keep the towel over the mirror then, at least for tonight. The one in the bathroom too."

"Sure, I guess," she replied, and he could tell she was trying to decide if he was serious.

"Trust me, you'll sleep better for it." Ethan ducked out of the bedroom before she could ask him anything else.

"Oooh-kay." Cady followed after him, lingering by the door as he opened his. "Hey, Ethan...?"

"Yes?"

"You'll make sure he doesn't get me, right?" The touch of insecurity in her voice let him know she wasn't nearly as fearless as she let on, and he nodded, meeting her gaze squarely.

"I'll keep you safe. I promise."

* * *

After nightfall, when he guessed she'd be asleep, Ethan came back to her window. He inscribed the protective sigils on all four corners of the window sill, imbuing them with words of power. It wasn't perfect, Q could still get into the apartment from one of the other windows, but it seemed likely he would try the window above the fire escape first.

Watching her sleep for as long as he dared, he slipped down into the alley to wait.

Chapter Nineteen

Frustration.

Less than pleased with how the abysmal meeting had gone, Asherik retreated to the realm of dreams. Waiting. Waiting. Why didn't she come?

His world had become the sweet sound of her laughter, the proud curve of her neck, the radiance in her cheeks when he showed her something new. Asherik lived for the moments when she looked on him not in terror, but eyes glowing with what he knew must be love. She consumed his every thought, hardly remembering to care for the body he squatted in, in the real world.

Bathed in that love, he thought only of her happiness, doing everything within his power to bring it to her when she joined him each night. She'd built him into a new man, made over his soul just as she'd formed the body in her mind's eye, and he wanted to be that man with every fiber of his being.

The urge to rend and tear faded, replaced by something new. Something remarkable. Something he never knew existed.

Why didn't she come?

She'd seemed distracted the last couple of nights, the dreams ending abruptly as the real world intruded with shrieking alarms, robbing him of his lingering kisses. But Ash took comfort in the knowledge that she'd soon be his again.

Only... it wasn't enough.

His thirst for her was all consuming. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to taste the earthly delights of the flesh. More than that, he wanted her to know him. Know what he was, and accept him, in every way. It had driven him out of the shadows, to seek her out in the sunlight that she cherished, to see her with human eyes.

He found her just as appealing, despite the dark smudges under her eyes (the effects of his appetites, to his deep regret). Ash could have stood drinking in her beauty for hours, but something compelled him to speak to her. To make her see him in the body he'd chosen, knowing her desires.

Of course, it was a disaster.

In all his years Asherik had never had to woo a woman before. He'd only to catch their gaze and any woman fell into a swoon at his feet. Every woman but the one he wanted most. Or was that why he wanted her so badly? Even with the hours spent talking to her in the dream world, the words had failed him as he stood humbled by her allure.

It occurred to him hours later why he'd botched it. He'd failed to mention the most important thing in his awkward attempt at conversation. He'd failed to speak of his love. For Asherik was convinced that he loved her.

Why didn't she come?

It was long past the time when she usually sought her bed, and yet he could not reach her. The thought that he might not get to see her was unbearable. His fist lashed out, pulverizing the wall beside him in a shower of dust. Ash stared at the blood welling over the torn knuckles, feeling no pain. What fragile creatures humans were. He caught up a small cloth, understanding that he must stop the blood in order to heal. In just a few minutes the skin knit together, red and raw, but healing swiftly.

Why didn't she come?

He had to see her. Asherik was moving almost before the idea became fully formed in his mind. He'd make her understand this time. He'd make her see him as he was.

On silent feet he scaled the metal contraption clinging to the building, pausing outside her window as an unaccustomed feeling seized his belly.

He was nervous.

Ash took a few extra moments to marshal his thoughts, intent on not wasting his words this time. When he was ready, he reached for the window sill only to be stopped mid-air. Though the window was clearly open, some unseen force kept his hand from going any further. His brows drew together into a single dark line as he poked and prodded the invisible barrier, trying to find the edge of it. In a fit of frustration, he lashed out and felt the newly healed skin break open again as his knuckles met the protective wall.

She lay sleeping within, maddeningly close, yet impossibly far for all intents and purposes. Ash drew a measure of peace from watching the rise and fall of her breast, taking some time to consider his options. He could call to her, and perhaps she would come to him. The brick walls felt mundane enough, he could break his way through to her, but likely that would frighten her. Neither option held appeal, and he decided to try her door. The better to cut off her escape route should she try to flee.

The decision made, he descended the stairs two at a time, easily jumping to the ground from the last landing. So intent was he on his prize, that the sudden appearance of the hilt protruding from his belly drew only puzzlement, until he felt the bite of the corrupted blade, drawing his power. Panic flared as he struggled to move before it was too late, but the reaper appeared much too quickly.

There was no triumph in his cold, blue eyes, only a deadly determination as he grabbed Ash's arm, grasping his hand firmly in his. Ash knew what came next, and flinched as the obsidian blade pierced both their hands, joining them together, flesh to flesh. He didn't have much time. Even as the reaper began to perform the binding ritual, Ash moved his hand an inch, and another. Flecks of foam gathered at the corners of his mouth as he struggled to raise his weapon. He'd come prepared this time.

Instead of reaching for the tainted dagger, Ash brought his hand up to the reaper's chest, counting on the concentration needed to perform the ritual to keep him from noticing the muzzle of the gun before it was too late. "Not... this... time," he bit out, pulling the trigger.

The reaper's gaze flashed down an instant before it was too late. Twisting to block the shot, the bullet hit him in the shoulder rather than the chest. His grip on Ash's hand loosened, the words faltering as he was blown back by the force of it. It was opportunity enough for Ash to pull his hand free of the obsidian blade. Ash fired the gun again, wild and high, but it forced the reaper to dive for cover giving him enough time to pull the rusty dagger from his belly. Freed from the poisonous blade, Ash transferred the gun to his dominant hand, but his wounded hand wouldn't grasp it properly. His shots ricocheted harmlessly against the huge metal dumpster the man crouched behind.

The bricks behind him exploded in a burst of rubble and Ash came to understand that the reaper was returning fire. He'd never done that before. It did him no good to kill the host body, he had to trap Asherik in order to bind him. Ash fired again, blindly, unprepared when the reaper appeared from the opposite corner in a flying tackle. They rolled over the dirty pavement until, by accident or design, Ash landed on top. The obsidian dagger appeared in the reaper's hand again, and Ash plunged his finger into the bloody wound at his opponent's shoulder. A howl of pain escaped the reaper's lips, and his grip faltered.

Bringing his gun up to the man's temple, Ash squeezed the trigger, only to be met with the disappointing click of metal. He pulled the trigger again and again, but the muffled sound of gunfire came not from the weapon in his hand, but from the gun pressed to his belly. Looking down, Ash saw the pool of blood staining his shirt with alarming speed, and he lurched away from the reaper, staggering to his feet.

He understood that the wound was serious, despite the lack of pain. Soon his body would weaken and the reaper would be upon him. Ash could use his remaining strength to reach her side, but there might be protective sigils barring him from her door as well. He could ignore the pain and attempt to finish the blonde man off. The reaper was wounded badly as well, his shoulder bleeding profusely. Or, he could flee like a rat abandoning a sinking ship to choose another host body.

Even as he debated those things, the reaper regained his feet, advancing with dagger in hand. With a last look up at the darkened window above, Asherik stole off into the shadows. His own tolerance for pain and blood loss gave him an edge over the reaper, and he soon lost his pursuer. The wound in his belly had already started to close around the offending lump of metal, but Ash needed to feed to replenish his energy. Deprived of her love, the urge to strike out returned with a vengeance.

Chapter Twenty

When the first shots fired, Cady didn't think much of it. Random gunfire wasn't that unusual, and most of the time it wasn't accompanied by violent death or even injury. Enjoying the first deeply restful sleep in days, she was half inclined to think she'd dreamed it up anyway.

But when the next shots came, she bolted upright in bed. They sounded awfully close. Tiptoeing cautiously to the window, she peeked out in time to see the flash of gunfire as more shots came from the alley below her window, but she was too high up to see much more. Not without sticking her head out the window, at any rate, and there was no way she'd be stupid enough to try that.

Considering whether or not to report it to the cops, she decided it couldn't hurt to call it in. It took several minutes for her to get through to a dispatcher who assured her that a patrol car would be dispatched, but without confirmation of a crime or an injury, it was anyone's guess when it would arrive. No more shots came, and the alley fell silent as she strained to hear anything that might clue her in to what was going on below.

A brief glance at the time showed she hadn't slept for as long as she'd thought, and Cady was about to climb back into bed when something pounded against the front door. The front door that wasn't chained because Ian would be coming home in a couple of hours and she hadn't wanted to wake to let him in. Sure, the deadbolt was fastened, but a good kick could make short work of that.

The knock sounded again – boom... boom, boom – and she tiptoed closer, not wanting to make a sound to let whoever was on the other side know she approached.

"Open the door, Cady."

She heard Ethan's voice through the door, and hurried to check through the peephole before opening it, just in case. He sagged against the doorframe as soon as the door swung open, sweat running down the side of his face. More alarming was the ruddy stain at his shoulder and the bloody cloth wrapped around his hand.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" she gasped, pulling him inside.

Ethan ignored her question, eyes darting around the room, and she saw the gun held low to his side. "Are you alright?" he demanded, peeking into her room, the bathroom, Ian's bedroom, even the closet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm not the one who showed up all bloody and sweaty." Cady locked the door up tight again, engaging not only the deadbolt, but the chain before she caught up to him in the living room. "Wait... that was you downstairs, wasn't it? Have you been shot?"

He waved her away as she tried to get a look at it. "It's not bad."

"The hole in your jacket says otherwise," she frowned, catching hold of his arm, flinching in sympathy when he winced in pain. "Hold still for a second, let me take a look at it." Cady fixed him with a flat stare, waiting until she saw the capitulation in his eyes before she tugged at the sodden material. The t-shirt was stuck to the wound, and it took careful prodding to pull all the fibers out.

"I don't have any tea to pour over it, but we could get some from your place, if you want," she offered, remembering his fixation with the brew the last time.

"No, it shouldn't need it."

"If you say so," Cady replied, dubious as she pressed a clean kitchen towel to the wound.

"It's not a big deal, the bullet went straight through."

"You mean there's another hole?" she frowned, peeking around to his back. Sure enough, his flesh was mangled on that side as well. "I think your definition of not a big deal and mine are crazy different. You'd better come into the bathroom. If you get blood all over the floor, Ian will freak out."

"I can just go back to my apartment."

"Not before I bandage you up. Now, move it." Honestly, it was just like wrangling a five year old. He let her drag him into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub so she could easily reach the injuries. The blood flow was already slowing with steady pressure, and she marveled at his ability to withstand such torturous injuries without a doctor's care.

"I suppose you get shot up all the time?" she ventured, leaning close to press against the exit wound at the same time.

"Not so much," he admitted, bearing the pressure without complaint. "They don't usually carry guns."

"Good thing for you. This looks awful."

"I'm telling you, I'll be fine."

"Did you catch him?" Her question was met with a stony silence that spoke volumes, and Cady refrained from pressing him about it. "Do you ever think about getting into a different line of work?"

"Why?"

"'Cause you basically kind of suck at this one. I'm sorry," she offered quickly when his forehead deepened into a scowl. "But you keep ending up stabbed or shot and they're still out there. Maybe it's time to turn this over to an experienced investigator?"

"I've been doing this for more years than you'd think," Ethan bristled, and she managed to keep her thoughts to herself. It was a miracle he was still alive by her reckoning.

Carefully peeking under the towels, she was surprised to see the blood flow slowed to a sluggish ooze. Cady grabbed for some gauze and tape from the middle drawer, cutting the tape with her teeth as she worked. She'd started to get the hang of playing nurse, and admired the neat bandages when she was finished. Her hands lingered on his shoulder longer than was strictly necessary, knowing he was liable to bolt the instant she finished and she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to him yet.

"There, I think this is okay," she said when it was clear there was nothing left to fuss over. "Wait... what you need is a sling." Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed a clean pillow case from the hall closet, trying her best to get it to split along the seam. Ethan plucked it from her fingers and tore through the fabric like it was tissue paper.

"You're not supposed to be using that arm," she scowled, wondering how he managed to do it so easily.

"I told you, it's fine." With a long suffering sigh, he let her tie the sling around his arm, knotting it by his neck.

"There, all set," she said finally, tugging it slightly to get the wrinkles out. "You know, you should really..."

"Go to the hospital, I know. No, thank you."

"I was going to say come to me the next time you get shot or stabbed. I'm really getting the hang of this stuff, don't you think?" she smiled impishly, and Ethan returned the smile, a half a beat later.

"Who says I'll get shot again?"

"With your track record? Please." A roll of the eyes was given as she turned to put the first aid supplies back in the drawer.

"You seemed to have missed one critical thing here." His voice called her back, but she couldn't readily see what he meant.

"What? You said the bullet passed through so we didn't need to try and dig it out. It didn't need stitches." Not that she'd be any good at trying to sew him up, she'd never been good with a needle and thread.

"You don't think maybe I should have put a shirt on first?" Ethan wiggled the fingers peeking out of the sling.

"Oh no, I think it's much better this way," Cady replied glibly, defending her lack of foresight as if it was a conscious choice. "It lets the wound breathe better, and you won't get the gauze all sweaty." Not because she wanted to ogle him with his shirt off... nope.

It was hard to keep from staring at his muscled chest though, and the first good look she'd gotten at his tattoos. Besides the one that ran from his hand up his arm, there was another one on the same shoulder that wrapped around to his back, one on his chest, two on his back that had narrowly missed the bullet through the shoulder and one just below the ribcage over the hard ridge of abdominal muscles. The tattooed symbols visible on the back of his neck ran the length of his spine, disappearing beneath the band of his jeans.

"How long have you had these?" she asked, fingers tracing lightly over the pattern on his shoulder.

"A long time," he said softly, watching the path her fingers took.

"What do they mean?"

"They mean I'm actually good at what I do." A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "These five sort of commemorate my success in bringing down other... cults."

"What about this one?" Her fingers continued down his arm, following the swirl of inked skin to the strip of cloth binding his hand. "What happened here?" she scowled at finding dried blood matting the inside of the cloth. "Tell me you didn't stab yourself through the hand again."

"It's fine." Ethan closed his hand, pulling it from her grasp.

"No, Ethan. Stabbing yourself through the hand to get at a guy isn't fine, or normal, or very effective from the look of things. When are you going to tell me what's really going on?"

"I told you, it's complicated."

He wouldn't meet her gaze, and Cady sank down onto the floor, insinuating herself between his knees. "I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

"I should go."

"Not so fast." She caught him before he could get away. "Not before you tell me once and for all what this is about. I can take your 'crazed cult' story only so far. It doesn't explain the weirdness you're putting out there."

"Cady... you should stay far away from all of this, from me especially, for your own good."

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?"

"No, I don't. I can protect you without pulling you in any deeper than you already are. Then, when this is over, I'll move on and you never have to see me again."

"What if I don't want to let you go so easily?" Cady caught hold of his hand, and he finally met her gaze. Something passed through his blue eyes – what, she couldn't say for sure.

"It would be the safest thing you could do."

"Maybe I don't want to do the safest thing? Maybe I like a little risk?"

It was obviously the wrong thing to say, as his brows drew together angrily. "Well, I don't, not when it's your life I'm risking. I'll stay long enough to make sure your brother gets home safely, and then..."

Cady didn't let him finish the ridiculous statement. She didn't give him a choice but to embrace the complicated as she kissed him. Not the brief press of lips she'd tried in the hallway the other day with surprising results, but a real kiss. Soft and lingering, daring him to deny what he felt for her at the intimate touch.

A low growl sounded from his throat, and Cady had no idea if it was a sound of frustration or desire at first. When his hand rose to cup the back of her neck, she smiled against his lips, tasting the desire he couldn't deny whenever they touched. There was confidence in his kiss, no longer any trace of hesitation the instant her lips touched his. And skill – it made her wonder what else he could do with that mouth.

The kiss drew to a tender end, his thumb brushing gently over her skin as he held her close. "Please tell me you felt that too," she breathed, resting her forehead against his neck. There were invisible ties that bound them together, she was sure of it, and hopefully, Ethan was starting to feel them too.

"I'm not supposed to," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair that sent a flutter of relief through her belly.

But he did. "Why not?" she begged, leaning back to look into his eyes. "Please, tell me what's going on. I think I deserve to know." He stared back at her, the struggle written plainly on his face before he shook his head, and her shoulders slumped in defeat at the denial she fully expected to hear.

"You can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Not your brother, your friends, no one."

Cady's jaw dropped, head bobbing as she nodded blankly before the power of speech returned. "I promise, I won't tell a soul."

"Good. Because what I'm about to tell you might sound..."

"What?"

"Crazy."

Chapter Twenty-One

"Crazy," she repeated. "Well, in that case, if you're about to blow my mind, we might as well get comfortable. Let's go sit on the couch. Unless what you're about to tell me involves any more bloodshed?"

"Hopefully not," he deadpanned, and it took her a moment to realize he was kidding. Instead of heading straight for the couch, she went to the fridge and got herself a diet soda, holding up a can of regular soda to him.

"I'll just have some water, thanks."

Drinks in hand and comfortably ensconced on the sofa, Cady tucked her foot under her knee and turned to face him expectantly. "Okay, go ahead, get as crazy as you want. I'm ready."

Ethan drained half of his water, frowning into the glass. "I don't know where to start."

"Well... how about you start with why you keep stabbing yourself in the hand and go from there."

"Just, jump right in, huh?"

"That's the general idea, yes." She waited patiently as he drank the rest of the water, his words tumbling out fast when he was done, as if he had to get them all out at once.

"Stabbing myself in the hand with the dague is part of the binding ritual."

"The binding ritual?" she repeated, remembering the foreign chanting. "Is that some kind of witchcraft? To bind him from doing harm?" In the movies they always used a picture of the person to do something like that. She'd never heard of having to stab both the intended person and yourself in the hand before. Not that she knew much about the stuff.

"No, it's not witchcraft, or I guess you could think of it that way." His forehead puckered as he puzzled through it. "It's more than binding him from doing harm, it's binding the subject to me. That's what I do. I hunt down those who are possessed and I bind the evil to me."

"Why would you want to do that? Then you'd be walking around with an angry spirit inside you."

"It's not walking around, it's bound to me. And it's not an angry spirit like a ghost, these are demons. They're summoned here from another plane, often killing whoever was stupid enough to call upon them and escaping into our world. I pull the demon out of the host body and draw him into me instead, then it's neutralized. I can harness the demon's power and strength, but I'm in control."

He was right, it did sound crazy. "So, you're saying the guy who attacked me, Claudio, he was a demon, not a member of a crazy cult."

"That's right."

"And this other guy, the one from the Laundromat..."

"Same demon, different body."

"Demons," she repeated, still trying to wrap her head around it. A couple of weeks ago she would have laughed at him. "And would he really have killed me then, or was that bullshit too?"

"No, he would've most likely tortured and killed you. It's part of his profile."

"You say that like you've got a file on him."

"I do," he admitted readily. "Subject Q, known for his brutality, a penchant for corruption of innocence, and the occasional..." His voice dropped off, but Cady had to know.

"Occasional what?"

Ethan pressed his lips together, weighing his words carefully. "He sometimes likes a taste of his victims."

Ick. She pushed that visual from her mind, not wanting to think too closely about how she or Penny might have ended up if circumstances had ended differently. "Subject Q? That's a funny name for a demon."

"We try not to use their true names whenever possible, it gives them too much power."

"Right," she replied tonelessly. He seemed so earnest, it was hard not to believe him, but was it possible Ethan was just crazy himself? Sure, she'd been attacked in a parking lot, and sure, the guy had acted strangely, even going so far as to slit his own throat to keep Ethan from completing his ritual. But did anything really support his notion that it was a demon rather than a man?

"What kind of powers do these demons have?"

"They're faster and stronger than humans, and they have the ability to absorb a lot more damage than a regular person can without going down."

"Sort of like a druggie on PCP?"

"Sort of," he allowed. "But unlike an addict, the demon heals much, much faster."

"Faster than you even?"

"Unfortunately, yes. They also have the ability to seduce men or women with a single glance. Something I think you're, ah, familiar with."

"A pretty powerful ability if you ask me." She'd never felt anything like it before. One second she'd been hell bent on getting Penny away from the scumbag, and the next she was ready to tear his clothes off with her teeth. "How do you stop them then? It seems like it'd be hard to bring them down without killing the host body."

"That's why I try not to use a gun. I didn't have much choice tonight though, he might have finished me off if I hadn't shot him."

"What about holy water, crosses, that kind of thing?"

Ethan was quick to shake his head. "It might have an effect on a minor imp, but Q's a tough one, he's been around for a long time. Usually they're not able to move at all once I get them with the rusty dagger."

The pieces were starting to fall into place. "So that's why you carry that dirty old thing," she nodded. "Still, it seems like you're getting the short end of the stick here. No enchanted crossbows or holy hand grenades?"

"No, I must have missed them on orientation day," Ethan chuckled. "It's rough sometimes, but I've managed to come out on top so far. This one's just giving me a run for my money."

"I'll say," Cady murmured, her gaze falling to his bandaged shoulder. "What does that make you? You're faster and stronger than a regular guy, you heal super fast. You said something before about visions."

"You remembered that, did you?"

"Some things stick with a girl," she shrugged.

"I'm still human," he insisted earnestly. "I just get a few perks from binding the demons to me."

"I'm a little fuzzy on how you do that."

"Not everyone can do what I do, not even everyone who's recruited to work for the Company. Almost anyone can survive the ritual to have a demon bound to them. It's a long, complex ritual done by very skilled elders. It gives them added speed and strength, healing and some psychic abilities vary depending on the demon. But a few of us, we have the ability to trap the demons built into us."

"I don't understand."

Ethan leaned forward, raising his tattooed hand. "I'll try to keep it as simple as possible. We're imbued with special tattoos that let us pull the demon out of a host and bind it to us with a fairly simple ritual, the one you saw part of with the knife through our hands."

"And you always have to stab your own hand a well as theirs?"

"Yes, that's part of it." He twisted to show her the tattoos down the center of his back. "The most complicated parts of the ritual are already built into me, waiting for me to trigger them, so to speak. All I have to do is immobilize him long enough to get the dague into both our hands and complete the ritual's final steps."

"And then the demon goes inside of you."

"Yes, safely bound."

That didn't sound so safe to her, but he seemed perfectly fine with it. "And then it's Miller time until you get your next demon assignment?"

"Something like that. There are watchers out there, studying the signs, looking for demons living among us. Sometimes it's months before I'm called into action, sometimes it's just a few weeks."

"Who do you work for? Some kind of religious outfit, like the Vatican?"

"No, I work for the Company. It's a secular organization who deals in the supernatural."

"What company?"

"That's all it is – the Company."

Cady leaned forward to lay her hand on his arm. "You can tell me their name, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"I'm serious. That's all they go by, the Company. Why would I keep a small detail like that from you at this point? I've already blown way past the rules in even saying the word demon to you. If they were to find out..."

"It's cool, Ethan, I won't mention the D-word to anyone else, I promise." Who would believe any of it? She wasn't entirely sure she bought it all yet either. Binding demons. Nobody covered that as an option on career day back in high school. A disturbing thought occurred to her. "So, you do this for a living. That means you have other demons inside you right now?"

"That's right."

"How many?"

"Five."

"You have five demons inside you right now?" Cady choked on the words, nearly spilling her diet soda before she set it down.

"That's not so many," he shrugged, unconcerned. "I've had as many as eight in me at once before."

Eight! He said it so casually, like they were talking about eating hardboiled eggs or something. "What happens to them? Does the Company exorcise them from you in another ritual?"

"Not exactly. They're... off loaded, I guess you could say."

"Onto what?" Cady pictured a contraption like the grid that held ghosts in the movie Ghostbusters.

"The elders can bind them to another person."

"Why would they want to do that?"

"Because it imbues certain gifts, like I said. Strength, speed... characteristics that are advantageous for Company men."

"They pull the demons out of you and load them up onto some other person... so they can what? Fight other demons?"

"Among other things. The Company deals with many supernatural creatures. Operatives that have been marked this way are extremely useful in identifying and bringing down some of the simpler forms."

"But not you... you're special."

"I survived the branding ritual, so I guess that makes me special. But I had nothing to do with it," he shrugged.

"The branding ritual, that sounds painful." Her fingers went to the tattoo on his arm. "People don't normally see them, do they?"

"No, they don't."

"How come I can?"

Ethan let out a long breath. "As near as I can figure, it's because you were contaminated with demon's blood the other night when the subject grabbed you."

"Contaminated?" That didn't sound good, not one bit. Would she get sick now? Was she especially susceptible to evil? "What does that mean? Is that why I've turned into a demon magnet?" It was a bit of a leap, but a logical one, she thought.

"That could explain Q's fixation with you," Ethan replied, brows drawing together as he puzzled his way through it. "That actually makes a lot of sense. Why else has he abandoned his usual entertainments to stalk you?"

"I don't know about stalking me. It was that one time in the Laundromat and then tonight."

"What about your dreams, has he been coming to you there? Your mirror's been uncovered until tonight, right? He could have tried contacting you there as well."

"My mirror?" Cady failed to see what one had to do with the other, but then it hit her – the dream lover. "Oh God..." The same man haunting her dreams night after night, stalking her. He seemed so otherworldly at times, that had to be it. Ash had to be subject Q. And she'd let him kiss her, touch her intimately. A wave of revulsion spread through her. "I think I'm going to be sick." Closing her eyes, she took shallow breaths until the sensation passed.

"Why didn't you tell me he could get into my dreams through my mirror?" she demanded, whipping a throw pillow at him, and Ethan's hands came up in a supplicating gesture.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think to mention it. At first I had no idea he'd become so drawn to you, it's highly unusual. Generally demons are unable to control the basic instinct to kill. After he failed to kill you that first night, he should have simply moved on."

"But he didn't, he set up shop inside my frigging head," she muttered, another wave of crawliness sweeping over her. "Why would he do that?"

"It's possible there's a connection between you now that you've been exposed to his blood," Ethan shrugged. "Or it's possible he was simply struck by your beauty and formed an instant attachment to you."

"Love at first sight?" she snorted, wondering if Ethan mentioned that because he thought she was beautiful too.

"No, more likely lust than love. Demons don't feel love, not the way humans do."

It hadn't felt like lust, not beyond the first night when he'd tried to seduce her in the silken boudoir and again under the tree in the park. But who knew what his ultimate agenda was? Maybe he got some sort of sick pleasure in getting her to fall for him before he devoured her?

"And what about you?" Her head canted to one side as she studied him closely. "Can you still feel love, or does having all of that darkness bound to you keep you from falling?"

"I... I thought it did," he answered, sounding a little bewildered. "I don't."

"You don't, or you're not supposed to?"

"I avoid relationships. It keeps things simpler. I can't let myself be distracted, what I do is too important."

"Is that what I am to you, a distraction?" At least that explained his reluctance to let her in.

"You're..." Ethan's breath whistled between his teeth as he let it out. "I honestly don't know. I shouldn't... I don't usually..."

Cady took pity on the poor guy, talking about his emotions clearly wasn't something he did with any regularity. "I thought you said not to trust people who use the word honestly," she teased, gratified to see his lips quirk into a half smile.

"Since when do you listen to anything I tell you to do?"

"I listen plenty, just not when you say stupid stuff," she said matter of factly. "So... let me see if I can sum this all up. You're a demon hunter, and I have a lovesick demon stalking me in my dreams because there's some kind of a blood bond between us."

"Lust-sick."

"Right," she muttered. "But if I keep my mirror covered I should be good, right? He can't get to me?"

"You should be safe both inside your dreams and out. I marked your window with protective symbols earlier, that's why he couldn't get to you tonight."

"You did? Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ethan gave a lopsided smile, and Cady realized she didn't care if he was crazy. She was already halfway to lovesick herself.

He still wasn't the dreamy boy with bedroom eyes and sculpted cheekbones that the CW tried to convince every girl (and some guys) over the age of thirteen made the perfect man, but somehow that made him better. Sometimes the beauty is in the flaws – that's what she'd told her dream lover, and it held true. How much of what appealed to her about Ethan had made it into her version of the perfect man? Maybe that was why she'd found Ash so tempting in her dreams?

"You should smile more often," she observed aloud, eliciting a self conscious smile from him in return.

"I already feel like I've smiled more in the past week than I have in the past year."

"Well... we'll have to see what we can do about that." Leaning towards him, she bussed his lips lightly, giving him plenty of time to pull away in case he decided he shouldn't let himself be distracted by her again. But just as before, the moment her lips touched his, Ethan made no move to push her away. Instead, he pulled her closer, his body making it clear that he didn't mind the distraction after all.

Cady distracted him for a good, long time, seizing the opportunity while she could. With a demon out there trying to kill him and seduce her, who knew when they would get the chance to again? For the moment, it felt like they had all the time of the world.

For a man who claimed not to do well with intimacy, his hands hit all the right spots. The sensitive strip of skin at the small of her back, the tender spot behind her ear, the light brush of a thumb on the underside of her breast; they all brought her to a simmering boil. At some point he'd slipped out of the makeshift sling and she didn't have the presence of mind to object.

Ethan made her forget all her good intentions, the need to wait, to want to make sure... like anyone could be sure of anything when it came to love. If he'd asked her to bed, hell, if he'd steered her in the direction of her bedroom, Cady might have given herself to him. Instead, the kisses grew softer, more tender and lingering as he reached a line he wouldn't cross. She didn't mind, not when he still held her close.

"You know what I want to do right now?" she asked, holding back the urge to laugh as she felt him stiffen in her embrace.

"I... we shouldn't..."

Cady pulled back to see him staring at the floor, red faced. "You know, I was going to say I could go for a big bowl of ice cream right about now, but I think I'm much more interested in hearing what you think I meant."

"Oh, ice cream." It was like watching the air deflate out of a balloon. Ethan lost the stiff posture, his color returning to normal as he realized he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Sure, I could eat some ice cream."

"Unless there's something else you'd rather be doing right now?" Cady smiled archly, her hand sliding up his leg in a teasing come on.

"No, thank you." Laying his hand atop hers, he stopped the advance. "I think I could use something to cool off a bit."

"Alright," Cady agreed equably, backing off and beckoning him to follow her into the kitchen. "Ice cream surprise coming right up."

"What's the surprise?"

"You'll have to wait and see." So far kissing him into submission seemed to be working out just fine whenever he started to say stupid stuff. Not so bad compared to some of her botched relationships in the past. It was hard to say where things stood between them, but there were worse things than having to kiss a guy to get what she wanted, especially when that something was him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ian came home some time later, the door catching on the chain she'd forgotten to unfasten. Cady's eyes popped open, surprised to find Ethan still fast asleep, his head lolling against the couch cushions, mouth partially open. She'd managed to get the sling back onto him before they'd passed out, but he was still shirtless. Despite the warm night, she tugged a blanket up to his neck so her brother wouldn't see his wounded shoulder.

"Some guard dog you turned out to be," she smiled, ruffling his hair before she scooted to the door to let her brother in.

"What's this?" Ian demanded, scowling at Ethan's unconscious form the instant he noticed him on the couch.

"There was a big shootout in the alley earlier. He wanted to make sure I was alright since you weren't home."

"Why, what does he have to do with it all?"

"Nothing," she lied quickly. If Ian suspected that Ethan was in any way involved with the violence, he'd pitch a fit. "We got to talking and he fell asleep, that's all. Friends talk to each other when bad stuff happens."

"You used to talk to me."

"And you used to listen."

Ian's shoulders slumped in defeat. "You can still talk to me, Cady."

"I know, I'm sorry." It wasn't fair of her to dump on him for their broken relationship, she was just as much to blame. "It just feels like we never do more than jab at each other lately. I can't remember the last time we both stayed home and hung out together for a whole night."

"Alright then, what about tonight?"

"We both have to work tonight."

"But not until later."

"I know, Kelli was going to come over for a while before we head down to Spanky's."

"Good idea. Hey, even better, we could all call in sick and go pick up a pizza. We can hang out together and watch something on pay-per-view."

"Why, so you can hit on my friend?" She raised a brow as her brother retreated towards his bedroom.

"That's ancient history."

"Uh huh, tell me another one," Cady said under her breath, following him down the hall. "Not that I care about my crappy job, but I don't want you getting into trouble at work. We can still do the pizza thing, we just have to cut it shorter. Hey, maybe we can invite Ethan too?" Not that she could picture him interacting with Ian or Kelli without a lot of uncomfortable silence, but it might be good for him to get out more.

"So that's definitely a thing then? The two of you? I thought you weren't seeing him anymore." Ian's head jerked towards the living room, his expression leaving no doubt as to his disapproval, but he didn't try ordering her not to see him either. That was progress.

Were they a thing? Cady decided it was the closest to a thing for either of them in a long while. "Me too, but adversity makes strange bedfellows." She waggled her brows at him. "Don't worry, he passed out cold before we got to anything you wouldn't approve of," she teased.

"Whatever, so long as I don't have to hear it. He sleeps on the couch."

"Yes, sir," she saluted, a version of the salute given to her father in happier times, and his face broke into a wide smile.

"Be good, young lady. Make me proud," Ian replied in a reasonable facsimile of their father's voice.

"I gave up hope of doing that a long time ago," Cady sighed, turning to leave. "But I promise I won't sneak him into my bedroom in the middle of the night." More because she was pretty sure Ethan would suddenly find the urge to leave if she so much as brought it up. She never thought she'd meet a guy more reluctant to hook up than she was. "Goodnight, bro."

"Sleep deep, Cady-bear."

The old nickname made her pause and give him a warm smile before she left to turn off all the lights, stopping to pull the blanket back up over Ethan's chest again and press a kiss to his forehead. After double checking the locks, and covering the bathroom mirror with a sheet, she climbed back into bed, drifting off into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning Cady woke feeling refreshed and full of energy, despite the fact that it was already eighty degrees outside by mid morning. It was going to be a scorcher. Her hair was still woven into a messy braid, and she took the time to unravel it before venturing out into the living room. Combing through it with her fingers, it poofed out in a kinky mess from the tight braid, leaving her looking like a deranged mermaid caught on shore after a storm. Tiptoeing carefully to the bathroom, she ran a wet comb through her hair until it deflated somewhat before washing her face and brushing her teeth.

It turned out her preparations were for nothing, as Ethan was nowhere to be seen when she got to the living room. The blanket sat neatly folded on the edge of the couch, the glass he'd used the night before washed and put away, the front door dead-bolted securely. If not for the bloody hand towel in the hamper, she might have thought she'd dreamt up the entire thing.

A quick shower and a bowl of Tasty-O's liberally doused with honey had her all set to start the day. She didn't even need the usual cup of coffee to get her going. The day stretched out before her, full of possibilities. Maybe if she found Ethan in a willing mood, she could talk him into driving her to the coast?

Still dreaming about her prospects, she turned to her laptop in her usual morning ritual, the lead article on the Chronicle's website killing her festive mood.

Two Found Dead in Apparent Murder-Suicide.

Cady went on to read about a woman, whose identity was not yet released, found murdered in her apartment in the early hours of the day by her roommate. She'd been brutally beaten and ultimately strangled to death in her own bed. Sexual assault was suspected but not confirmed.

The man, identified as Alex Clark, died of an apparent self inflicted gunshot wound on the floor in the victim's bedroom. Clark bore traces of defensive wounds consistent with the victim's struggles, and early blood typing showed the blood found under the victim's nails matched his. There was no evident connection between the two, according to the roommate, but the police had yet to question her family.

She'd seen a hundred similarly tragic headlines in the past; it was one of the things that bothered her about reading the news in the first place. But what caught her eye was the picture of Alex Clark. Needing a picture to go with the flashy caption, they'd splashed a picture from his driver's license from the look of it. Handsome, short bristly hair and hazel eyes.

The exact same guy who'd approached her in the Laundromat, Ash.

Cady stared at the photo for long minutes, trying to figure out what it all meant. Killing the woman seemed to fit the pattern of violent, psychopathic behavior Ethan described, but then why kill himself? Opening another tab, she searched for any other articles on the lurid deaths. There was precious little new information available, except for one report confirmed that she had not been sexually assaulted. That was something, she supposed, not that it made the poor girl any less dead.

A search on Alex Clark himself turned up almost nothing beyond the splashy headlines. An old Facebook account showed no new entries in the past six months, and nothing about where he lived or worked. Hitting a dead end, Cady snapped her laptop shut, going to knock on Ethan's door without stopping to put on shoes.

There was a long pause before he answered, and this time he didn't bother to hide the gun in his hand when he pulled the door open. "What's wrong?" His initial welcoming smile faded when he caught sight of her expression. Cady didn't answer right away, brushing past him to set up her computer on the breakfast bar.

"Have you seen the news this morning?"

"No, why?" Ethan leaned close as she brought up the original website, furrows deepening on his brow as he scanned the article. "Shit... how could I have missed that?"

"You were shot, I think that earned you a rest."

"That's no excuse. I should have been out there." He pushed away from the counter, pacing in agitation. "Damn it, I should have seen this coming."

"How could you have?" Cady followed him into the living room, catching hold of his hand to make him stop pacing. "Listen, do you think he actually shot himself or did someone else get to him and make it look like a suicide? I mean, why would he do that?"

That brought him up short. "I don't know. The only time I've known him to take his own life is when he's in danger of being bound. As far as I know, I'm the only one on this case though."

"Could there be another Company man in town?"

"No, I'd know about it," he replied with utter confidence. "There has to be some other explanation. Or maybe... maybe he wanted anonymity after what happened last night?"

"The better to stalk me with?" Balls. Just when she'd started to feel safer. "So now we don't know who he looks like."

"Or she. Q can take any form he chooses, it's just usually male."

That could make her life one big ball of paranoia. If Ash could take any form, how could she walk down the street without constantly looking over her shoulder? "Is there anything I can do to tell it's him? I mean, are there signs to look for? Can you tell by looking at him?"

"No, not unless I see him in a vision."

"Then get cracking!" she demanded, an edge of hysteria creeping into her voice. "Do whatever you have to do, pronto. I can't stay in my apartment forever." Or could he get to her in the apartment too? What if he got into Kelli and she let her in? Or Ian?

Beaten and strangled. Sometimes he liked a little taste.

Good mood utterly crushed into rubble, it was Cady's turn to pace nervously, chewing on the inside of her lip until Ethan pressed something small and hard into her hand. "What's this?"

"I want you to wear this for protection."

"It's beautiful." Intricately wrought, a delicate arrow stretched across a drawn bow about the size of a fifty cent piece, suspended on a silver chain. The pendant itself was darker than silver, some other kind of metal she didn't recognize.

Ethan took it from her fingers and fastened it around her neck. "It doesn't mean we're going steady or anything, but it should keep you safe."

"Like a good luck charm?"

"Something like that. But with an added extra bonus." Ethan depressed a tiny catch, where the arrow met the bow and a sharpened spike slid out of the arrow's casing, tiny flecks of rust clinging to the blade. "If he comes for you again, jam this into him anywhere, and it should buy you some time to get away."

Cady studied the mechanism, turning it over in her fingers. "I thought you were going to be there to protect me."

"I am, but I like to be prepared for any contingency."

She liked the sound of that. "What's your next move?"

"I start all over again, wait for a sign. I tried another vision again this morning, but nothing panned out. Right now we should assume he'll try to get at you again. Until I get a clear sign otherwise, I stick to you like glue."

"Oh really?" Her brows came up. "That doesn't sound so bad. How are you at pizza and stupid comedies?" Those were Kelli's favorites to watch. "Kelli's coming over later and then I have to work tonight."

Ethan made a face, something between smelling rotten fish and possibly fear. "You should be safe enough in your own apartment, but come and get me before you leave for work, and I'll drive you down."

"My own chauffeur service, I could get used to this." Her grin turned hopeful. "I don't suppose you feel like driving me out to the beach today, do you?"

"I could, but I should be spending my time training and searching for leads on the murdered girl."

Which meant she'd have to spend the entire day in the hot apartment. "I could come with you."

"No, thank you. It's an active crime scene. It'll be faster and easier if I break in on my own. As long as you're home safe I should take advantage of the daylight hours."

"He came to see me during the day before, you know."

"That's right." Ethan paused, puzzling through that troubling fact. "Another thing that's out of character. Demons usually prefer to move around at night, but you should be safe here. I put the protections sigils around your door this morning when I left."

"Alright. Don't you think you'd better give me your phone number then?"

"It's already in your phone."

Sure enough, there it was, under David. "When did you do that?"

"When I got up this morning."

"Oh, I was going to ask you, how did you manage to lock the deadbolt? Or did you go out the window again?"

"I locked it behind me. A little something I picked up in my burglary training."

Cady wasn't sure whether he was kidding or not, but another question came to mind. "So... is your name really Ethan or David? I only ask so I know what to yell in case of emergency."

"It's Ethan, but nobody knows me by that name anymore."

"Except for me."

"Except for you," he admitted with a faint smile.

"And the Company."

"That's right."

"And Ian."

A long sigh left his lips as he sank onto the arm of the couch. "I guess there's no avoiding that."

"And I might have mentioned your name to Kelli..."

"Fine, Kelli too."

"But it's going to be weird if they know you as Ethan and Penny knows you as David," she pointed out, wondering if she should have kept her mouth shut at the pinched look that came over his face. "Why don't I tell them you prefer to go by David, which is your middle name?"

"What if you don't talk about me to them in general? That would be even better."

"But... you and I, we're..." He wasn't starting to backslide already, was he? Was she going to have to kiss him again?

"We're not supposed to. I'm under strict orders to curtail any personal... entanglements."

"But I thought..."

This time it was Ethan who initiated the kiss, cutting off her flow of words. "I don't know what this is," he admitted when the kiss drew to a close. "But the less people that know about it the better."

Mollified by the spontaneous sign of affection, Cady was glad he hadn't moved back to the land of denial. "It's going to be pretty hard to avoid the subject if you're going to be sticking to my side like glue though, isn't it?"

"I can stay out of sight."

"This is stupid. You're doing your job, what's so wrong with that? Right now your job is all about sticking close to me. It seems like your Company would think that acting like you're my boyfriend would fit perfectly. Haven't you ever gone undercover before?"

"My whole life is undercover."

"So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is I don't usually fall for the girl I'm supposed to be protecting."

Her smile stretched wide. "But your cover would. He'd fall hopelessly, helplessly under my spell."

"Alright, fine." Ethan let out a long breath, a look of resignation replacing the doubt. "We'll play it your way for now. In case anyone asks, my name is David Brown. I'm a freelance photographer who works mostly for industrial catalogues."

"That sounds kinda boring."

"That's the whole point. No one ever asks to see samples of your work when you're shooting pictures of components all day. No parents, no brothers or sisters, my favorite color is blue."

"Are those parts true?"

"Yes and no. My favorite color is actually green."

"Why would you need to lie about that?" Her head tilted to one side as she tried to puzzle through the need for that level of deception.

"So I can watch your face pucker up like that," he grinned, earning a smack across the abs from Cady.

"I'll give you a pucker," she growled, attacking him with a kiss that left them both breathless. "Alright, David," Cady said, locking her hands behind his neck. "I can keep your secrets if it keeps you close by. And after this is all over..."

"Then we're in new territory."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kelli took one look at the empty apartment and the starch went out of her spine. Dressed for work, she wore the standard Spanky's pink t-shirt paired with a skimpy black skirt that revealed ruffled white panties whenever she bent in any direction, and spiked heels so tall, she had to take little baby steps when she walked. "I thought Ian was going to be here," she pouted, plopping onto the couch.

"Since when do you care if he's here or not?" Cady locked the door behind them, her own brief clothing positively dowdy by comparison. "Are you into my brother?"

"No..." Kelli's voice squeaked abnormally high; she made a terrible liar. "It's just you said he was going to be here, and I was surprised he wasn't, that's all."

"He got called to work a private party tonight and had to leave earlier than we originally planned. It's only going to be you and me tonight, and then I snagged us a ride to work with my neighbor, David."

"I thought his name was something with an E or was it an A?"

"Nope, it's David." Cady steered her back to the original topic, bringing them each a diet soda. "Back to Ian though... Seriously, are you into my brother? It's fine if you are, I just want to know about it. It makes me feel weird to think about you two making googly eyes at each other behind my back."

"Why, did he say something?" Her eyes flashed wide.

"No, not exactly," Cady hedged, not wanting to give her the wrong impression. It wasn't like Ian spent his time mooning over Kelli or writing her name all over a notebook with little hearts over the i. "He just seemed glad to hear you were going to come over tonight. Do you like him like that?"

"What's not to like? He'd definitely doable."

"Ick. Okay, I don't need to hear about how he gets your motor running. I'm only curious if you've ever been out before."

"We've run into each other in a social setting," Kelli said carefully, and that clinched it for Cady.

"Well, I think you should go for it. If you like him and he likes you, why not try to run into each other on purpose?"

"Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Why should I mind? It wouldn't kill you to go out with someone semi-respectable for a change. Ian can be a pain in my ass, but he's actually a pretty decent guy."

"Thanks, maybe I will." Kelli brightened, sipping at her soda thoughtfully.

"Good. Because there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Uh oh... I know that look. That's your mama-bear look. What did I do this time?"

"It's nothing like that," Cady laughed at the guilty expression on her face. "Just... did you see the news today?"

"Ugh, no, I never watch that stuff. It's depressing as hell."

"Maybe you should. Some girl got murdered last night, right here in our neighborhood. It's getting dangerous out there, Kel. I want you to promise me you won't go to any clubs for a while, not alone anyway."

"Oh come on, I would never go home with a creeper. I know better than that."

"Did Penny tell you I stopped her from almost going home with a guy who ended up being a psycho killer?"

"What? No! When did this happen?"

Cady told her a carefully edited version of the events, detailing how even innocent Penny had fallen under the sway of Claudio, who'd later been found murdered nearby. She said nothing of demons or body switching or Ethan's involvement with any of it. "So you have to be careful, you can't judge a book by its cover."

"Damn." Kelli fell back against the arm of the couch. "Alright, unless one of you bitches is there to watch my back I'll stick to libraries and Laundromats from now on," she vowed.

"No, no Laundromats either. I met a weirdo there the other day."

"Shit, is nothing sacred anymore?" Kelli shook her head, her mind switching tracks. "What about you and this neighbor guy? Did he get your shirt off this time?"

"I wouldn't have said no, but I told you, he's a gentleman," Cady admitted with a sheepish grin.

"You dog!" Kelli laughed in delight. "Tell me everything."

Cady managed another heavily edited edition of some of the time she'd spent with Ethan, omitting any mention of his injuries and leaning more towards the kisses they'd shared. Kelli ate it all up, eyes shining with excitement, leading Cady to go into more detail than she probably should have about those private moments. "Listen, don't say anything about what I told you about him when he comes to give us a ride tonight, okay?"

"It's alright, I know the girl code. I'll settle for meaningful glances at you behind his back."

"Good. He can be pretty shy around girls."

That turned out to be an understatement.

When Ethan rapped on the door, he barely lifted his gaze off the ground, offering a mumbled greeting to Kelli. He treated her more like a fare than a friend as he drove them down to Spanky's, responding with a series of monosyllabic grunts when she tried to draw him into the conversation. Kelli ignored him after he failed to respond to her flirty request to see his sexy tattoos. There was no sign of the sling or bandage, and he moved easily with no sign of pain or restriction.

There wasn't a good time to brace him about loosening up until after he parked the car and escorted them into the store. While Kelli stood chatting with Dylan, their boss, she cornered Ethan by the door. "What's with the Mr. Mumbles routine? You didn't have this much trouble talking to Penny the other day."

"That was different," Ethan replied, clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them, rhythmically. "We were supposed to be neighbors, nothing more. I don't know how to talk to someone like your friend Kelli. Am I supposed to flirt back with her when I'm your boyfriend?" he shook his head, and Cady took pity on his bewildered expression.

"No, but she's never gonna buy that you're my boyfriend if you keep up with the silent routine. Can't you at least be a little friendlier than that to me?"

"Friendlier?" Ethan nodded slowly, digesting the critique, before wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. "Alright, I can do that." His hand dipped to the curve of her ass, pulling her tightly to his lean form. He delivered a scorching kiss that chased all thoughts of subterfuge from her mind.

"What was that?" she murmured, slightly dazed when it was over.

"I thought about what you said. I'm supposed to be protecting you, and I figure the quickest way to draw the subject out of hiding is to provoke a reaction from him."

"You have my permission to try that tactic anytime you like," Cady breathed, more than a little affected by the coiled strength in his body and the way he held her.

Unfortunately, the only reaction it provoked was one from her boss.

"Hey, no touching the merchandise, pal," Dylan growled. He'd tied his scraggly hair back into a ponytail and trimmed the ragged facial hair into a thin mustache and the suggestion of a goatee. A huge improvement, but the clothes were still awful. An open button up shirt in a hellish orange print over brown, fringed, suede pants and pointy toed boots.

Ethan made no move to let go of Cady. "I'm just saying goodnight to my girlfriend," he replied in a challenging, cocky tone she didn't recognize.

Dylan's eyes narrowed at him, giving Ethan a bold look up and down before flicking to Cady. "I'm not paying you to make out with your boyfriend. Time to get to work."

"I know, I'll be there in a minute," she replied meekly, wanting another word before she let go of Ethan.

"Move those gorgeous buns, kitten, I don't got all night." Her boss fired out that last order before going back to locking up the rest of the shop.

"Looks like he's the only one who objected," Cady whispered once he was out of earshot and Ethan leaned close to her ear, his words sending a shiver down her spine.

"Keep an eye on him."

"He's my boss, he's harmless. I do have to go though. Are you really going to hang out waiting all night while I'm in here working?"

"Yes, I'll be out there keeping an eye on you, don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I'll be locked in safe and sound until closing time. If you had anything else you wanted to take care of, you could take off for a while. Actually, I should be fine for the rest of the night. Ian's set to pick me up after two and then we're gonna hang out with Kelli at home. Which you're perfectly welcome to join us, you know," she pointed out.

"I'll stay put for a while, see what happens. If I do need to bug out, I'll send you a text."

"What happened to the Challenger, by the way?" Cady asked, not having been able to react much when he picked them up in an unfamiliar white Jetta.

"I junked it."

"Aww, I loved that car," she mourned, wondering how he'd managed to get his hands on a new car so quickly.

"Chop chop, missy." Dylan snapped his fingers at her like a dog and she fixed him with a withering glance.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming. I'll see you later."

"Stay safe." Ethan's fingers brushed over the necklace, and for the first time Cady thought she saw naked emotion escaping the tight confines of his will.

"You too."

* * *

Ignoring the mutterings that came from the direction of her boss, Cady locked herself in the cage where Kelli was already entertaining the store's two customers by debating the merits of Assterpiece Theater. Dylan hung around longer than normal, maybe to make sure Ethan didn't come back to distract Cady, but took off after a while.

Every once in a while, Cady would try to spot Ethan out there through the barred windows, but she never saw him. She considered texting him once or twice, but decided that would only reinforce the impression that she was worried, and she wasn't. Apart from the upstanding members of society who patronized Spanky's brand of sticky charm, there was no sign of anyone who made her feel more uncomfortable than usual. Safe in her cage, the night passed swiftly enough.

Sometime after one, she got a text from Ethan. Everything okay in there?

Yep, kinda bored, she replied, surprised when the phone rang a few seconds later. "Hey," she smiled, looking out the window again. "Are you still out there?"

"Of course. Listen, your brother's going to pick you up tonight after work, right?"

He sounded tense to her, or not tense, but excited maybe. "That's right, why?"

"I picked up something on the police scanner. I want to go check it out, but not if it leaves you exposed."

"What is it?"

"It's the report of a woman's body found behind a bar not too far from here. It might not even be his handiwork, but..."

"No, you're right, you should totally go check it out," she agreed immediately. "I'm fine here, locked up tight."

"I'll probably be back before you get off work anyway, but if not, stick to your brother's side."

"I'll be fine, you go ahead. Call me if you find out anything good."

"Alright, bye."

"Was that Ian?" Kelli asked as soon as she got off the phone.

"No, that was um, David," Cady replied, remembering at the last instant to use the alias. "He had to go run an errand, so he might not be able to give us a ride home."

"Oh, well that's okay," she shrugged. "It's a nice night out, and we always walk anyway. Though I'm kinda regretting these shoes now." Kelli flexed her foot one way and then the other, repeating it with the other foot.

"That's what you get for wearing hooker heels," Cady chided her gently.

"Whatever, they make my legs look amazing," Kelli grinned, and Cady had to agree. Her legs did look fantastic, but she'd much rather be comfortable in her white sneakers. "My tan is totally fading though, it's been too hot to lay out for almost a week."

"My roof tomorrow," Cady declared. "I'll bring a spray bottle of water and a bucket of ice. You won't even notice how hot it is."

"Ooh, it's a date. I'll bring the margaritas!"

They chatted lazily, making plans for an idle day in the sun. There was likely to be a week of the heat left at most, before the worst of it was over and the inevitable morning fog returned. Soon summer would be over, and another school year would be starting without her.

Cady's mind started to wander, thinking about the future. Maybe she should make plans to go to community college? In a couple of years maybe she'd be able to transfer to a more prestigious school, or maybe she could look into applying for a student loan or a scholarship program. Just because things hadn't turned out the way she'd planned didn't mean she had to ditch her entire future.

As she took a customer's soggy bills, she vowed it would be her last summer working at Spanky's at the very least. Business picked up then, and there wasn't much time to think about more than making change and a pump of hand sanitizer before she greeted the next customer.

Just before closing time, Cady's phone buzzed again, but instead of another text from Ethan, this one came from her brother.

Party's running long, might be late in picking you up.

"Damn," she muttered. "Looks like we lost our escort home."

Kelli's face crumpled in disappointment. "Oh no, what happened to Ian this time?"

"Nothing happened to him, he's caught up at work. It's not a huge deal. We can probably hang out in here until Dylan's done with closing and he'll probably be here before then." Briefly, she considered texting Ethan to let him know they were left high and dry, but she hadn't heard back from him yet, and she didn't want to interrupt him in case he was in the middle of something sneaky. Instead, she sent a text back to Ian. No worries, bro. We'll hang out 'til you get here.

Dylan arrived just before two to lock up, and he didn't seem to mind them hanging out while he tallied up the night's receipts and deposited the cash into his night safe. "Well done, ladies," he grinned, happy with the night's take. "Keep it up and I might be able to spring for a bonus at the end of the month."

"Thanks, boss," the girls replied in unison. Dylan's bonuses typically didn't amount to more than an extra twenty bucks, but still, twenty dollars was twenty dollars.

"No body guard tonight?" he asked, looking up from his ledger. Dylan kept a paper ledger that he tucked away in the freezer compartment of the mini-fridge, the only record of his night time side-business.

"No, Ian had to work late, we're just waiting for him to get here," Cady said, looking out onto the street again, but there was no sign of him.

"Oh right, the brother. I meant the boyfriend, I thought he might be sniffing around. You know, I never figured you to go for the handsy type, kitten."

"He's not always that forward," Cady replied, face flushing as she thought about that kiss. "But he had to go take care of some stuff. I'm sure Ian'll be here soon though, we'll be fine."

Dylan popped the plastic covered book into the freezer, shutting the door with a flourish. "I could give you girls a ride if you want."

He'd never volunteered to take them anywhere before. Sure, Ian was usually on hand, but it had Cady leery of the sudden offer of help. "Are you sure it's not out of your way?"

"Nah, at this time of night it's not like there's any traffic, right?" He gave them a crooked grin, showing yellowed teeth.

"Really? That would be awesome!" Kelli gushed, and Cady could tell she was motivated by the killer heels.

Something pricked at her nerves in accepting a ride, but he wasn't exactly a stranger, and it was getting late. Besides, he didn't sound like Ash at all, just his usual smarmy self. "Thanks, that's nice of you," she accepted.

"Alright, let's get a move on then," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I got a bottle of Jack at home with my name on it."

Cady sent Ian and Ethan both a text that they'd caught a ride with Dylan, and not to worry. Dylan's car was a metallic bronze Cadillac Seville, with a white top showing more than a few repairs. The back seat was piled high with cardboard boxes, overflowing with dusty possessions, everything from books to a scarred rolling pin, and they had to squeeze together to sit in the front.

"What's with all this stuff?" Kelli asked, picking up an ashtray in the shape of a frog with big red lips.

"I bid on one of those storage auctions, and this is the crap I won. I haven't had time to go through it yet, but I'm thinking there are some real beauties in there." Dylan flashed a weathered grin, pulling onto the road. "So, which one of you lives closer?"

"Kelli does, but we're both going back to my place," Cady replied, only to have Kelli contradict her.

"Actually, I'm thinking about going home. I'm beat."

"I thought we were going to hang out."

"Yeah, I know, but then Ian had to bail and it's getting late..."

Cady knew from past experience that Kelli didn't consider it late until the sun came up, but she let it go, more than a little disappointed at being blown off just because her brother wouldn't be there. "Alright, some other time then."

"Which way am I going?" Dylan asked, and Kelli gave him directions to her apartment. Cady was too bummed out after her friend left to be worried about riding alone with Dylan anymore. "You're quiet tonight, kitten. Cat got your tongue?" he asked after riding along in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm just tired, I guess," she replied.

"You shouldn't work such late hours."

"You're the one who set them," she snorted. "Trust me, if you paid the same for your regular shop, I'd be hitting you up for the day shift."

"You need a man to take care of you."

There were so many things wrong with that observation, she didn't know where to begin. But it was her boss, so Cady kept the biting retort that leapt to mind from slipping out. "I do just fine," she said shortly.

"A pretty girl like you... it's a wonder you don't have suitors lined around the block. You should wear your hair down more often, you have such lovely hair."

Oh man, was he hitting on her? She'd never been so glad to be able to say, "Yeah well, I have a boyfriend, remember?"

"Yes, him," he said, his voice dropping to a gravely pitch. "He had his hands all over you as though he owned you, nothing more than a pretty bauble."

The conversation was starting to get weird, and Cady shifted as far away from him as she possibly could, pressing against the passenger door. "He's a dangerous guy," she tossed out there as a warning. "And he's the jealous type, so..."

"He didn't look so dangerous to me."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Cady murmured, starting to wonder just who she'd climbed into the car with. His entire body language and mannerisms had undergone a subtle shift. Dylan was usually kind of twitchy, toes tapping, hands constantly in motion, but the man who sat in the driver's seat seemed inordinately calm by comparison. There was also the manner of his speech; Cady didn't think Dylan even knew what bauble meant.

"Yes, they can," he smiled brilliantly, the light from the dash casting his face in a sickly yellow glow. "Take this body for instance. You would never know it to look at him, but the man has a collection of Russian nesting dolls. More than forty of them, in all shapes and sizes. I'll bet you didn't know that."

Cady shook her head, too scared to reply aloud.

"But sometimes," he spoke again, driving casually with one hand. "Appearances can reflect the soul. You, for instance, are the picture of beauty and grace. The very face of love." His hand rose to stroke her hair and she cracked her head against the window, flinching away from the touch. "Shhh, you have nothing to fear from me. I would never harm you."

"It's you, isn't it?" she breathed, staring at him in horror.

"You know me," he beamed. "Even in this shell you still know me. I knew you would. You smell so... delicious, I'd know you anywhere."

"How did you...?" Cady licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "You sounded just like Dylan before, not like you at all." Maybe if she could keep him talking... maybe she could reach her phone, or... Cady wasn't sure where she was going with the plan, but he seemed to be taking her home, not back to his rape factory. If she could get a message to Ethan...

"It's not rocket science, kitten. It's not like the guy is all that complicated in the brains department, you get me?" He favored her with a sleazy grin before returning to the altered speech pattern. "I have access to all his memories, his thought patterns. I could even let you speak to him if you like."

"He's in there with you?"

"Of course. Blissfully unaware of our conversation for the moment, but I can let him achieve some measure of consciousness without losing control."

Thinking she might be able to distract him, Cady nodded vigorously. "Show me. Let me talk to Dylan."

"As you wish." Guiding the car to a stop only a couple of blocks away from Cady's apartment, he turned off the ignition. A shiver rippled through his body, but before Cady could so much as inch towards the door handle, the change was made. "Cady?" Dylan stared back at her, dark eyes wide as he took in his surroundings. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Dylan, listen to me. You have to fight him," she pleaded. "Kick his ass out and take your body back!"

"Are you high? What are you doing in my ride? What time is it?"

"Screw this..." Cady slipped off her seatbelt, but a restraining hand kept her from going any farther.

"There, I sent that hateful man away, you've no need to run," he soothed.

Yeah, like that was who she wanted to run away from. "What do you want from me?"

"I only want to love you." He leaned forward to kiss her, stained teeth and all. In one swift movement, Cady threw the door open, bolting from the car.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cady hit the ground running, not bothering to look behind her. If there was one thing she'd learned from horror movies, it was looking behind you meant slowing down and possible tripping, and then she'd be dead meat. The demon would be faster and stronger than she was, and she didn't plan on giving him any more advantage over her than that.

Glad she'd worn comfortable kicks instead of heels or even sandals, her feet pounded the pavement, giving her pulse a run for the money. Convinced she'd feel his hands on her throat any second, Cady burst through the building's lobby door, thankful for once that the lock was broken yet again and she didn't have to fuss with a key.

Elevator or stairs? Elevator or stairs?

It was a fair guess he'd beat her by the time she ran up five flights of stairs, so Cady punched the elevator button, only now daring to look behind her as the door slowly slid open. Ash threw open the lobby door just as she darted into the elevator, a puzzled expression on his face. The bastard didn't even look out of breath.

"Come on, come on..." she murmured, jamming on the door close button, until the stupid thing rolled shut, moving slower than molasses. "Shit, shit, shit..." She had to reach Ethan, but there was no signal in the ancient elevator. Her fingers flew over the keys, sending a text instead in the hopes that it'd go through the instant the signal strength improved.

He's here, at the apartment, come quick.

The ride to the fifth floor seemed to take forever, and Cady wondered if she wouldn't be safer getting off on another floor and trying to run back outside again. But where would she go? No, her best bet was to get into her apartment and trust that Ethan's symbols would keep her safe.

The elevator arrived at the top floor with a jerk, the door rolling open to reveal a deserted hallway. Cady darted across the hall, heart hammering away as she tried to get the key into the lock with trembling hands.

"Why do you run from me? Is it this body?"

Cady was unable to keep from looking, even though it cost her precious seconds. Dylan – no, Ash – stood by the stairwell, eyes narrowed as he studied her. The deadbolt turned with a satisfying click, and Cady moved on to the lock in the doorknob, ignoring him as best she could.

"I can easily choose another. I only wanted to get you alone." The key slid home but before she could turn the knob, his hand closed over her wrist. "Talk to me, let me hear your voice," he entreated.

His grip was like steel as she tried to wrench her hand out of his, and Cady winced as pain lanced up her arm when he twisted her grip away from the door. "Let me go, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to have anything to do with you."

"Cady... I don't understand. We've spent so much time together, much more than I've ever spent with any man or woman. You know me. Why can I feel your heart beating like a hummingbird's wings?" He laid a hand over her breast and Cady froze, her breath coming in short gasps as her body strained for air.

"None of that was real."

"Of course not, it was a dream. But I am the same man you came to know. You need not fear me." He smiled, and Cady saw the tilt of her dream lover's smile trapped behind the repellant mask.

"Are you kidding me?" Hysterical laughter bubbled from her lips. "How can I not be afraid of you? How can you stand there and pretend to be a man when we both know you're not?" she bit back at him. "We both know you're a brutal killer."

His face clouded, as if struggling to find the right words, perhaps to understand it himself. "I sometimes need... I don't... I don't want to be bad anymore."

She gaped at him, unsure what to make of that pronouncement, the almost childish statement in the face of his crimes. "Then don't. Don't do this to me, let me go," Cady begged, tugging lightly against his grip.

His brows drew together, removing his hand from her chest to encircle her wrist. "We shouldn't linger here. Come with me, there's so much I want to tell you, so much to share."

Cady threw her full weight in the opposite direction, feet sliding as he dragged her along. "I'm not going with you. I'll scream bloody murder and everyone will come running."

"Don't make me hurt anyone else, Cady," he said, dark eyes turning to her sadly. "I only want to be with you." Pulling her roughly against him, he kissed her hard, his mouth demanding. Cady struggled weakly, before she remembered the pendant. Pressing the catch, she pulled the rusty barb free, stabbing him through the hand as hard as she could. Wriggling out of his grip as he froze in a mixture of shock and pain, Cady scrambled back to the door where the key still stood in the lock. The knob turned even as she heard his anguished cry and she glanced back in time to see him pull the rusty metal free.

She made it across the threshold only seconds before he collided with the protective barrier, his face contorted with rage. Cady could only stare as Ethan's magic kept him out better than a steel reinforced door.

"Let me in!" Ash demanded, pounding his fists into the invisible wall again and again.

"Fuck off!" she yelled back, "I don't want you, get it through your thick skull!"

"I will have you!" he thundered, hitting the barrier with so much force, she felt the walls shake. Cady watched with sick dread as a terrible gleam came into his eyes. "I will have you one way or another." The next hit came not on the magical barrier, but on the wall next to it. Ordinary sheetrock was no match for his demon strength and on the second punch, Cady saw his bloody knuckles through the cracked paint.

"Oh shit." Backing towards the kitchen, she grabbed the biggest knife she could find, feeling hopelessly unprotected. Why didn't Ethan come? She had her phone with her and a signal now, she could call the cops, but what good would that do? By the time they got there, if they came at all, she'd be long dead. From the lack of response by the neighbors, she figured she couldn't count on any help from them either.

The hole grew bigger at an alarming rate, and Cady could see most of his torso now as Ash tore away at the larger chunks of drywall. Trying to pull it together, she inched closer to the wall, slashing at his arm as it broke through to grab hold of the wall again. The knife sliced open a gash along the top of his forearm, but the demon didn't so much as pause, enlarging the hole until he stuck his entire upper half in to try and grab her. Cady danced away from the gap, knife held at the ready, and with one mighty kick, he broke through enough to step into her apartment. So much for their security deposit.

"To the victor goes the spoils," he grinned in triumph, pushing the lank hair away from his brow where it had come loose from the ponytail.

"This war is nowhere near over," she said with bravado.

"You are so spirited, such a delightful change from the women who fall at my feet with a single glance." He advanced slowly and she got the sense he was toying with her. "I admit, it gets the blood pumping."

"Great, let's see some of it," Cady tossed back, hacking the air with her knife when he advanced a step closer.

Ash chuckled, easily evading her clumsy slash. "Bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you? I've never seen this side of you before. I wonder what other delights you have in store for me." Moving faster than she thought possible, he plucked the knife from her hand, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. "Careful now, I don't want you to cut yourself," he chided.

The stairwell door flew open in the hallway, drawing his attention, and Cady turned her head to see Ethan slide up to the open door. The demon's hold on her shifted, once more using her as a human shield, as he had in the parking lot.

"I know she's as precious to you as she is to me. Careful how you step," Ash taunted, his hand at her throat.

"Christ, shoot him anyway," Cady called back, unable to keep from smiling at Ethan's arrival. "It'll be worth it to shut him up."

"No, he's right, Cady," Ethan replied, tucking the gun into the back of his pants, his hands coming up. "I don't want to see her get hurt. I don't think either one of us does. Why don't you let her go and then you and I can finish this?"

"You must think me a fool if you think I'll release her so easily," Ash scoffed, making no move to ease his grip on Cady's neck.

"Not at all. But you're a fool if you think I'll let you take her out of here. I don't want to see her hurt, but I'd rather kill her myself than see her in your hands."

"Ethan!" Cady gasped, but he refused to look at her.

"I feel the same. If I can't have her, then no man will. How do you propose we settle this?"

"We both want her. I say we fight for her, winner take all."

"I already have her in my grasp. Why should I let her go?"

"Aww fuck it, I'm tired of this bullshit." Ethan slumped for a moment, coming up with the rusty dagger in hand when he straightened. In a flash he threw it with deadly aim straight at them. The dagger whizzed past Cady's head, only a finger's breadth away from her eye to sink into the demon's chest. Ash reeled backwards, and Cady lurched out of his grasp, scrambling for the dropped knife even as Ethan rushed in.

"Are you okay?" he asked before he was even completely through.

"Yes, but..." Cady looked back to see Ash staggering towards the window, hand clasped around the hilt of the knife. "Ethan, he's..." The demon tottered at the open window, pitching headlong into the open air.

Ethan swore under his breath, racing for the window.

"Wait, you're not going out after him like that, are you?" she demanded. "Take the stairs!"

"There's no time." Ethan dug into his pocket, tossing her a ring of keys before he swung his legs out the window. "Go into my apartment and lock it up tight. There's a gun in my desk drawer. Don't open the door for anyone but me, not even your brother."

"What if he gets you?"

"That's what the gun is for," Ethan said, launching himself out the window.

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Ethan, no!" Cady ran to the window, the scream dying in the back of her throat as she stuck her head out to peer at the street below. It was too dark to see much, but she thought she saw shapes moving in the shadows. There wasn't time to think about what might lay at the bottom of the alley, she had to get moving.

Snatching up the keys, Cady abandoned the ruined apartment, taking longer than she liked to navigate the three separate locks on Ethan's door. Once inside, she locked them all up again, including the flimsy chain and butterfly lock at the top of the door. Ordinarily such a display of hardware might make her feel secure, but after watching Ash bust his way through the wall of her apartment, Cady didn't feel better until she found the gun in Ethan's office.

It had been a long time since she'd held a gun in her hand. Her father had insisted on showing her the basics for her own protection, but she located the safety without too much trouble. Dragging his office chair into the corner of the living room where she could watch the door but still dart into another room if need be, she sat and waited, growing more and more anxious by the minute.

Despite her earlier words of bravado, Cady was shaken to the core and her frazzled nerves reflected it. Every creak and movement in the old apartment building had her jumping at shadows, the gun trembling in her hands as she tried to defend against imagined dangers.

The knock at the door made her heart clench painfully, and she rose slowly, too apprehensive to approach the door.

"Cady, it's me, let me in." Ethan's voice came through, but Cady forced herself to hang back, to make sure.

"How do I know it's really you?"

"It's really me," he called back. "I should have told you before, he can't get into me like he can with other people. The tattoos protect me from being taken against my will."

"They do?" she blinked. That sounded awfully convenient.

"Of course. Can you imagine how tough he'd be to kill if he got into someone like me?"

"That doesn't prove anything. You could be making that up."

"Cady, it's me, I swear."

"That's exactly what he'd say," she muttered, but she let him in anyway. What choice did she have? If it really was Ash, it wasn't like she could keep him out for too long anyway. Ethan slipped inside quickly the instant she unlocked the door, not bothering to secure the locks.

"Are you alright?" he demanded, taking the gun from her hands and setting it on the kitchen counter, favoring his right leg as he walked.

"I feel like I should be asking you the same. Did you hurt your leg in the fall?"

"It's not bad."

Of course not, it never was. "Did you get him?"

Ethan brushed past her into the office where he retrieved a black duffle bag, heavy from the look of it. "We have to get moving, we don't have much time."

"You didn't get him then." That much seemed certain. "Where are we going?"

"You're not safe here anymore, neither of us are. We have to leave before he comes back, or someone sends the cops around." The laptop on the desk went into the bag, as well as a sketchbook and a flat plastic box.

"We have to leave now? But what about Ian?"

"We can't take the chance and wait around. You'll have to contact him later."

While she understood his reasons for urgency, Cady couldn't help but think about how Ian would react when he got a look at the apartment. "Can I at least leave him a note?"

"And say what? You can't tell him anything about what's going on or where you're going." Zipping up the bag, he tucked the extra gun into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Come on, we have to move."

Cady nodded mutely, darting one last look at the ruin of her apartment before she followed him into the stairwell. She was about to suggest the elevator, given his limp, but she thought better of it. He'd just insist he'd be fine anyway and she trusted him to know what he was doing.

"You drive," he ordered, sliding into the passenger's seat with a groan, and Cady obeyed without questioning him.

"Where are we going?"

"Drive East like you're going towards work, I'll give you directions in a few blocks." Ethan's attention seemed scattered, his focus on the mirrors and she guessed he wanted to make sure they weren't being followed. Only once they were on the road for several minutes and after three course changes did he relax. "You're doing great, Cady," he gave her a thin smile. "Turn back towards Eddy."

"You do have a destination in mind, right?"

"Yes, I do. Do you know the SRO by the bodega with the big mural?"

"Sure, I know where that is, why?" He couldn't be taking her there. That was one of the seediest tenements in the city. The smell from the street was bad enough, inside the halls could make your eyes sting it was so appalling.

"Relax, that's not where we're going," he chuckled, clueing in to her apprehension. "Just head for that street and we'll be fine."

Cady glanced over to see him slumped lower in the seat, his eyes half masted. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I just need to rest a bit and I'll be fine."

"Diving off a five story building will do that to you, I guess," she muttered, turning her concentration back to the road. There was very little traffic at that hour, and every pair of headlights she saw made her tense in fear until it passed harmlessly by. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, glancing at the screen to see a text message from Ian.

WTF happened here? Where are you?

"I need to call Ian. I need to let him know I'm alright."

Ethan scowled, shifting higher in the seat. "What are you going to tell him?"

"I'll tell him that my boss went psycho and tried to attack me. It's sort of the truth."

"Alright, but keep it short."

Splitting her attention between the road and her phone, Cady dialed his number and Ian picked up on the first ring.

"Where are you? Are you alright?" he demanded before she could get a word out.

"I'm fine. I'm assuming you're home?"

"You're goddamn right I'm home. What the hell happened here, Cady? There is a fucking hole into our apartment. I can see Mrs. Wasserman right now standing in the hall talking to the cops. She said it sounded like a gang war out here."

"The cops are there?"

"What else was I supposed to do when I came home to this mess? There's a bloody knife on the floor, and you were nowhere to be found."

"Shit," she murmured; she'd forgotten all about the knife she'd slashed Ash with. "I'm fine. My boss went nutso after he dropped me off and he sorta busted into our apartment when I locked him out."

"That asshole did this?" Ian thundered incredulously. "He is so dead. I'm gonna..."

"Ian, stay away from him," Cady warned, filled with dread at the thought of her brother trying to hunt him down. "He is crazy insane. I mean look at that place."

"Where are you?"

"I'm safe, I'm with a friend."

"Who?"

"It's nobody you know. Just don't worry about me."

"Bullshit, I know all of your friends. Is it that Ethan guy? The cops want to talk to you both."

Shit. "Ian, I have to go. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay and try not to worry, alright? Hopefully I'll be home in a few days and I'll tell you everything."

"Cady, don't..."

"That's enough." Ethan plucked the phone out of her fingers, smashing it against the dash hard enough to crack the plastic before he tossed it out the window.

"Hey... did you have to do that?"

"We can't take the chance of them tracking you through your phone. I already got rid of mine."

"Aww man, I have eight more months left on my contract," she said mournfully, staring at the gouge on the dashboard where her phone bit the dust.

"I'll get you a new one."

"That one had all my music in it," Cady sulked, until she realized she was being childish. It was only a phone, not such an important thing to lose, all things considered. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult, I swear. It's just... it feels like I lost a lot of things tonight and that was the last straw, you know?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I've been trained to leave everything behind at a moment's notice. I guess I haven't formed any attachments to anything for a long time."

"Until now." She reached for his hand and he threaded his fingers through hers.

"Until now."

* * *

Cady tried to remember Ethan's point about not forming any attachments to stuff when they locked up the car down the street from the destination he had in mind. It wasn't her car. Still, she couldn't help but think they'd be lucky to find it drivable in the sketchy neighborhood. Her own apartment was considered to be in the safer part of the Tenderloin, or the TenderNob, but the street he'd led her to was in the heart of the poorest section of the district. Decaying tenement buildings lined the streets and decrepit single room occupancy hotels offered cheap accommodations as long as you didn't mind no kitchen or sharing a filthy bathroom.

Ethan didn't stop at any of the SRO's though, to her relief. Instead he led them into a side door next to Donut Planet, where a narrow staircase took them to a series of tiny apartments over the dilapidated shop. The gray paint on the walls was peeling and the stairs were scuffed and worn, but it was reasonably clean and didn't have the stench of years of urine seeping into the linoleum. Someone was trying, at least, to make the best of what they had to work with.

Leading her up to the top floor, Cady suppressed a groan at all the stairs, and from the speed at which Ethan shambled up beside her, she guessed it was rougher on him than he let on. Finally, he stopped in front of apartment 6-A, fumbling with the keys until he found the right one.

The small studio apartment was sparsely furnished, a double bed tucked into one corner, a worn loveseat in front of an old fashioned TV with the dials. There was one strip of counter designated as kitchen space with a coffee pot next to a tiny sink, a short stack of dishes sat on an open shelf above it. A mini fridge hummed in the corner.

"Who lives here?" Cady asked, grateful to find a private bathroom on the other side of a door in the back.

"No one. It's a safe house." Instead of sitting like she thought he would, he set the duffle bag on the edge of the bed, rooting around until he came up with the flat plastic box.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving us some extra protection."

"I thought you said this place is safe."

"It will be when I'm done with it." Ethan drew a series of symbols on all four walls with charcoal, lips moving as he worked, though she couldn't quite catch the words. "There, that should keep his ass out," he said with self-assurance when he was finished.

A week ago she would have laughed at him for placing all of his confidence in a bunch of marks on the wall, but now Cady felt safer just looking at the black symbols. She'd seen first hand how impenetrable they could be. She could also see how worn out Ethan was as he inspected his handiwork, wavering slightly on his feet.

"Hey, you'd better sit down before you fall down."

"I'm fine."

"Park it," she ordered, brows knit together until he sank onto the edge of the bed obediently. "Can I get you anything? I don't suppose you have any food in this place."

"No, thank you," he answered automatically before rethinking the question. "Actually, there should be some tea in the cupboard if you don't mind."

"Is it the same tea you have at home?"

"Yes." His voice sounded far away and when Cady glanced back, she saw his eyes were closed, though he hadn't made any move to lie down. There was a metal canister of loose tea leaves in the cupboard with a tea strainer next to it. With no microwave or hot plate in the place, she set the tea to brewing in the small coffee pot, guessing at how long to let it steep before she poured him some in one of the two brown mugs she found.

"It's hot, be careful," she warned, holding the edges carefully to offer him the handle. Ethan's eyes slid open and he murmured his thanks, gulping the tea down despite the scalding heat.

"Is there any more?"

"You bet, hold on a sec." This time Cady added a little tap water to keep him from burning his insides in the process. By the time she got the third cup into him, he looked less worn around the edges, his blue eyes clear and alert.

"Thank you," he said with a warm smile.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. What's in this stuff?" she sniffed at the coffee pot before she rinsed it out in the sink.

"The tea has healing properties that work particularly well with my body chemistry. You shouldn't drink it though, it'll make you sick."

"No chance of that, the stuff is nasty." There was a short stub of a sponge and the dregs of dishwashing soap that made the brief clean up easier. Cady found the chore soothing, the hot water washing away the remains of the tension she carried in her body.

Strong arms wrapped around her as Ethan pressed her hands between his under the stream of water. "Are you really alright?" he asked at her ear.

"Yes, I think so," she replied, relaxing against his chest until she realized that he held her tightly, almost desperately. She couldn't see his face, but his lips brushed over her temple, a shaky breath leaving his body. "What about you? Are you alright?"

"When I saw him there with you... I didn't... I didn't know what to do."

"Really? Kudos to you then, you came off like you had a plan."

"I'm serious. I've faced plenty of demons before, I always know what to do."

"It happens to the best of us."

"Not to me."

"He didn't hurt me," she reminded him gently, turning off the water before returning her hands to his. "The next time we come up against him, you do what you have to in order to stop him. Don't worry about me."

"I did though. I didn't like it."

"Having to worry about me?" Cady turned around so she could face him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I never would have guessed it from the way you talked back there. Would you really have killed me before you let him have me?"

"I don't know." He hung his head. "Any other girl I'd say yes, in a heartbeat, because it's a kinder end. But you... I'm not sure I could be the one to make the light go out of your eyes."

"Hey, it's a good thing to have those kinds of doubts. It makes you a human being," she soothed, tilting his jaw until he looked at her again. "For the record, I'm glad you have reservations about killing me to keep me safe, but your first instinct is the right one. I'd rather be dead than his plaything. Let's be clear about that."

Ethan nodded, a grim cast to his jaw. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"You and me both," Cady sighed, relaxing against his chest. "So, what happens now?"

"For now we rest," he groaned, leading her to the bed. "Then I have to check in, regroup, figure something out. I don't know, I can't think straight anymore." Ethan lay back on the bedspread, shoes and all.

"I don't know how you can think about sleeping yet, I'm still jumpy." Cady pulled off his shoes and then her own, setting them on the floor beside the bed.

"I broke my leg on the way down. Healing damage like that always takes it out of me."

Cady stared at him, her jaw slack. He said it so nonchalantly, his eyes already closed. "I thought you said it was fine."

"And it is. I'm fine now, I just need to rest. You can watch some TV if you're not tired."

She knew better than to argue with him about it; he seemed to know what his body was capable of, no matter how ridiculous it sounded to her. "No, I'd better get some rest too, it's late." Climbing beside him, she snapped on the ancient air conditioner above the bed, wiggling her fingers in front of the vent until she felt a trickle of colder air. With a last look around the room, she turned off the light. Ethan didn't stir when she lay down next to him, and he didn't object when she scooted closer either.

"I'm supposed to work tomorrow," she ventured, not sure if he would hear her. "Do you think he'll try to come after me there?"

"Nope. You're not going back there."

"But..."

"Not until this thing is over." His tone brooked no argument. "I don't want you going near that place."

"I'll lose my job."

"I'll get you another one."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Ethan repeated, jaw cracking as he yawned. "I didn't like you working there anyway."

"Uh oh, you are the jealous type, aren't you?" she smiled and he chuckled in response.

"Maybe I am, it's been a while."

"How long has it been since you last had a girlfriend?" Cady propped her head up to see his face.

"A long time."

"How long?" she pressed, and Ethan let out a stretched breath.

"Embarrassingly long. Let's get some rest."

Cady let it go, laying her head down on the pillow, but sleep didn't come. "I am your girlfriend now though, right?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. "That wasn't just an act to flush the demon out."

"Yeah, you're my girl now." His fingers sought hers in the darkness. "Come what may."

"Come what may? Way to ruin the moment," she chastised, but Cady didn't pull her hand away.

"I'd try and salvage it if I wasn't so damn tired." His voice sounded far away again, like he was already starting to drift and she felt bad for keeping him awake.

"You get some sleep, we can pick this up later. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me now."

"Like the sound of that," he murmured.

"Me too."

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rage.

Driving, blinding, rage consumed him, all the more frustrating as he spent it uselessly. Asherik lashed out without thought for consequences. No longer content with the company of shadows, he struck again and again in full view of any who happened by. A shock of blonde hair or a flash of blue eyes was all it took to trigger his wrath. To any that reminded him of the reaper who'd stolen all from him, he meted out the punishment deserved.

Death.

But neither the snap of bones nor the last gurgling screams touched the core of sadness that gripped his heart.

He'd lost her.

Had her in his grasp and then lost her.

"Love me," he commanded the next pretty face who hurried past, gratified to see her eyes widen in bliss as his sway took hold. Ignoring the blood staining his hands and clothes, and the seedy pallor of his current form, the woman pressed herself against him, warm and willing. This was what it was supposed to be, he thought, as he drank deeply of what she offered.

Why couldn't she love him?

Ash let the woman lead him to her sad little hovel, delighting in the sag of the decrepit mattress as she all but threw him back against the bed in her eagerness. Losing himself in the softness of skin and tangle of hair, he fancied they were her hands tearing at his clothes. It was long red hair wrapped around his fist instead of black, and soft brown eyes that stared up at him, filled with love, not vacant blue ones.

"Jesus, honey, don't make me beg," the woman whined, her voice high and nasal. The spell broken, Asherik looked down to see not the lush mouth of his lady love, but a gap toothed, come hither smile. All at once she seemed repellent to him, old and broken. Like the last time, he found he couldn't perform.

"What's the matter, baby?" Her hands groped against unwilling flesh. "Can't get it up? I can fix that."

"Get off," he shoved her against the wall.

"I'm trying to," she giggled. "Let me show you what I can do."

"I said get off." There was a crack as her head hit the wall and Ash knew he'd broken her. Why should he care when he was broken himself? What had she reduced him to when he couldn't be a man anymore?

Even the solace of dreams held no allure. The reaper wouldn't leave her unattended again; Ash couldn't hope to find her through dreams any longer. There were magics known to him, powerful spells, but nothing he tried brought him any closer to finding her. His enemy had to be shielding her from him somehow. But the reaper would slip up. He would fail and Asherik would be ready.

An idea came to him then, simple enough to execute; humans were easy to mislead. Regretting now his earlier violence, he set out to choose the perfect host. The body that would lead to the reaper's downfall.

* * *

"Motherfucker!"

Cady startled awake, hands coming up to ward off whatever attack must be headed her way before she realized Ethan's anger was directed at the TV. "Seriously?" she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Tell me you're not freaking out over a baseball game."

"Take a look at this," he pointed, grim faced, and Cady scooted out of the bed in time to see a police sketch that looked suspiciously like Ethan's face up on the grainy screen.

"What the... what's going on?"

"He killed another one. Only this time, a witness came up with this," he pointed again, hand clenching into a fist that slammed against the fragile arm of the loveseat, hard enough to crack the frame.

"Whoa, calm down, it'll be okay."

"Yeah? He's effectively tied my hands behind my back. He can't find us so he's got the cops doing his dirty work. Son of a bitch!"

"Hey..." Cady bent to wrap her arms around his shoulders, laying her head atop his. "We'll figure this out. Right now all they have is a guy that looks sorta like you. In a city this size, it could be anyone." She held him tight until she felt some of the tension drain from his body. "Let's focus on something more immediate. Do you have any money?"

Ethan craned his head up to look at her. "Yes, why?"

"Because I'm starving and the smell of those donuts downstairs is driving me nuts. How about you take a nice hot shower and I'll go down and get us some breakfast?"

"By yourself?"

"Hey, I'm not the fugitive," she shrugged, letting go of him to slip on her shoes.

* * *

The sugary goodness worked its magic, and after gorging themselves on buttermilk bars and coffee, Cady left him to take her own shower. It came out more tepid than hot, but at least the bathroom was clean. Ethan produced a spare t-shirt for her out of the duffel bag, but she had to put the same shorts on.

Expecting to find him in a better mood when she emerged from the bathroom, Cady scowled when she found him sitting in front of the television again. "That had better be a movie you're watching," she chided him lightly, trying to use his fine toothed comb to work out the worst of the tangles in her hair.

"The news at noon should be on soon. I want to see if they have any updates."

"Why not check the internet?"

"I already did, they're still running the same stories as this morning."

"I doubt they've found anything new already. It hasn't been all that long."

The streaky blonde newscaster proved her wrong though, reporting with a mixture of perky gravity that the police had released the identity of the suspect. Ethan's driver's license photo flashed in the picture beside her head. Or rather, David Brown's. "Oh no..." Cady groaned, sinking beside him on the loveseat.

"David Brown has been linked to two other unsolved murders earlier this year. Police say the suspect is considered to be armed and dangerous, and extreme caution is advised when coming into contact with him. Anyone with information as to his whereabouts is encouraged to call this special task force number and not to engage him directly."

"Well, that's it then." Ethan turned off the television, his eerie calm somehow more frightening than the display of anger before. "I'm screwed."

"I can call the police, tell them you didn't do it."

"They're not going to believe you. The killer's girlfriend isn't exactly a credible witness."

"You're not a killer."

Ethan didn't say anything for long minutes, staring at the blank screen without moving. "I have to call this in," he said suddenly, drawing a cheap prepaid phone out of his pocket.

"What will they do?"

"Bring in another reaper, reassign me to a place that's not as hot for me."

Send him away. He said it dispassionately, as if he didn't care one way or another. "What about me?" Cady asked softly.

"You could come with me."

The invitation surprised her, she'd half expected him to say she'd be safer with him gone. "Really? Where do you think they'll send you?"

"I don't know, it could be any of the districts." Ethan scratched his upper lip with the top of the phone; he needed a shave. "Or I could be in hot water for exposing myself like this. Shit, you can't come with me. It's not safe."

"Then don't call in." Cady slipped the phone out of his hand and set it on the scarred table. "There has to be something else we can do to find this guy. That's our first priority. We can figure out what to do about the police later. How long before you'd normally have to call in?"

"I've got another day, maybe two before they start checking up on me."

"Alright, let's make it count. How about you do whatever it is you do to try and get another vision? While you're doing that, I'll go out for more supplies. You can't fight demons on donuts and coffee three times a day."

Ethan smiled faintly, his gaze traveling over her face. "You know you're kind of amazing?"

"What's this kind of stuff? You're damned right I'm amazing," Cady grinned. Standing up, she clapped her hands together loudly. "Alright people, let's move like we got a purpose."

"Hicks said it better." His eyes flashed playfully.

"Take that back," she demanded hotly, hands on her hips, and his head tilted to one side as he considered it.

"Alright, he wasn't as cute when he said it."

"I'll give you cute." Cady straddled his lap, capturing his complete attention. Hunger flashed over his features and his arm snaked around her waist, drawing her closer, but he didn't take any more than that.

"I thought you wanted to get moving like we had a purpose?" he said, lips tilting up to meet hers, but not quite touching.

"I do," she replied, enjoying the electric current of desire that crackled between them. His shoulders were broad and strong, the thin t-shirt enhanced rather than hid the bulge of muscles beneath her hands. "But this is okay too."

"Well, if it's only okay..." Without pausing a beat, he stood with her still clinging to his shoulders, one hand supporting her as if she weighed nothing at all. Cady wrapped her legs around his waist just the same, afraid she might fall as he took her to the bed. Unfortunately, he didn't lay her back on the lumpy mattress and ravish her the way she'd been hoping. Instead, he dipped to pick up the duffel bag, carrying them both to the kitchen counter with no trace of a limp.

"I don't like you going out there alone."

"It'll be fine, it's broad daylight. We need groceries, and I need a few things," she started to object, but he held up a hand.

"I'm not saying don't go, I'm saying I don't like it. So, if you're going out, I want to give you some protection to take with you." Setting her firmly on the counter, he let go to dig through the bag.

"Do you mean like a gun? I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't want to draw any attention to myself."

"No, not a gun," he murmured. "Here, hold this."

Cady's eyes goggled as he handed her a fat brick of cash, swaddled in plastic wrap. Turning it on end, she saw it was comprised of twenties on one end, hundreds on the other. "Christ, you weren't kidding when you said you had money, were you?"

"Always be prepared, that's my motto," he grinned, coming up with a small pouch from the bottom of the bag. "Now this is the protection I had in mind." Ethan shook out a small disc suspended on a black leather thong. The pendant was a shiny silver-gray with a rusty red vein running through. Cady couldn't tell what it was made of. It felt cold to the touch, and when she turned it over, she found a series of tiny symbols etched into the back.

"What is this?"

"It's hematite bound with shielding magic. It should mask you from him for a short period of time."

"How come you didn't give this to me before?"

"Because we wanted to flush him out, not keep him away."

"Oh, right," Cady nodded, smoothing her fingers over the hard surface until she realized they'd started to sting uncomfortably. "It burns." She let go of the disc to let it swing on the leather cord. Her fingers were pink where she'd been touching it, but the sensation quickly faded. "How can it be cold and burn at the same time?"

"It does? That's strange."

"It's not supposed to do that?"

Ethan picked up the disc, placing it on the flat of his hand, the skin underneath immediately reddening. "It burns me, but I've never seen it do that to anyone who wasn't..."

"Who wasn't what? All demony inside?" The corners of her mouth twisted into a grimace. "That's it, isn't it? You said I was tainted by demon blood, and now I'm not a normal human anymore, am I? That's why I can see your stupid tattoos and that's why he wants me so bad. I'm like him."

"Cady, you're not like him. You were only exposed a little bit."

"You don't know that. For all we know this is going to get worse. I could start turning evil at any moment."

"I think you're overreacting a bit."

"Easy for you to say, you chose this. You let them do this to you. All I did was try to stop a friend from being flesh for fantasy and now I'm turning into a monster."

"You're not a monster." He shook his head, but didn't offer any other words of encouragement. Maybe there weren't any.

"Could your bosses get it out of me?" she asked suddenly. "Can they do that?"

"We can't involve the Company."

"But they could, couldn't they?" Cady pressed. "If anyone would know how to put me back to normal, it'd be your Company."

Ethan met her gaze, his blue eyes blazing intently. "You need to get that idea out of your head right now. They don't try and pull the darkness out of people, they try to put it in."

"That's sick," Cady recoiled from the idea.

"It has to be done. There are things in this world... things most people don't want to know about. The only way you can keep your ignorance is for us to keep the lines of battle hidden. That means fighting darkness with darkness."

"I never thought I'd wish for ignorance." Her whole upbringing had been spent in the pursuit of knowledge, but Cady didn't want this kind of information in her head. "I wish I'd never heard about any of this before."

Ethan's face went blank, his emotions shuttering away. "When this is over, you never need to be touched by it again. I can make arrangements so that you don't remember any of it. It's probably safer that way in the end." Picking up the duffel, he started laying weapons out on the bed, his movements short and methodical.

"What? No, that's not what I meant." She hopped off the counter, chasing after him, but he ignored her. "I didn't mean I want to forget about you. I meant it was easier before I knew about this stuff."

"I shouldn't have told you about any of it, I should have left well enough alone. I shouldn't have involved you. It was a stupid, selfish mistake."

"Ethan, look at me. It wasn't selfish, I'm the one who demanded answers in the first place. Hell, I practically forced it all out of you. Besides, I already had the demon blood in me before you told me a single thing."

That brought him up short, his hands stilled and Cady grabbed hold of his shoulders to turn him towards her.

"You are the only thing that makes any of this worthwhile. I'm glad I was there to bandage you up and take care of you that night. I do wish we weren't wrapped up in this stupid set of circumstances, but I'm glad this brought us together." She tipped her lips up to his in a brief kiss. "Glad."

"Your life will be different now. I don't know if it'll ever be over for you, even after we defeat him."

"You said we," she brightened at the realization. "That's good enough for me."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was hard not to head for a trendier neighborhood to shop in with the wad of cash burning a hole in her pocket and the car at her disposal, but practicality won out in the end. Cady stuck close to the apartment, doing most of the shopping on foot at a mom and pop store. She picked up no frills undergarments and a pack of socks that would fit them both. Cheap jeans and tops from the Salvation Army store, clothes that wouldn't stand out in the meager neighborhood. Enough to last for a few days; possessions she didn't have to worry about leaving behind.

She'd worn her hair wrapped up in a tight bun, donning sunglasses to keep from being recognized should the police circulate her picture as well. But no one seemed to give her a second glance as she hustled down the street. If anything, the shopping bags drew more attention, and Cady locked them in the trunk of the Jetta before heading to the drugstore, deciding to pick up a few first aid supplies, just in case.

The phone booth outside the drugstore caught her eye. It was near three p.m. now, and Cady knew Ian would be awake and worried sick about her after seeing Ethan's picture on every news source. Surely she could risk a brief call to let him know she was alright. Even if they eventually traced it to the drugstore, that wouldn't give them the location of the safe house, blocks away.

The phone went straight to voicemail though, and Cady's heart sank. Leaving a brief message that she was safe, she promised to call him again soon and told him not to worry, she had it all under control. The drugstore was very well equipped, and she spent more there on everything she might possibly need to doctor him up than she had on clothes. As an impulse buy, she also picked up a San Francisco Giants ballcap for Ethan to wear, the better to hide his face in case he had to go out.

Purchases stowed away in plastic bags, Cady left the store only to be approached by a man in jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. He was blonde and in good shape, a genial smile on his face as he blocked her path.

"Miss Garrett?"

Stunned at being recognized, it took her only seconds to recover. "No, you have the wrong person." Dodging to the side, he stepped with her, tugging up the edge of his shirt to reveal a badge clipped to his belt.

"No, I don't think I do. Detective Lucas, SFPD. I wonder if I could have a few minutes of your time."

Shit. "Now's not a good time," she mumbled, looking down the street for any signs of back up. If she ran flat out she might get away, but he looked pretty fit. And where could she go? The car was several blocks away, and she couldn't lead him back to the studio apartment.

"I'm afraid I really must insist." He smiled engagingly. "Listen, we can do this back at the station if you want. Me, I'd rather go get a cup of coffee." Lucas gestured to a diner sandwiched between a twenty-four hour dry cleaners and a Korean grocery store. "I'm even buying, what do you say?"

"Sure, I could go for a cup of coffee right now," she agreed with a tight smile, figuring she'd pick her moment and run like hell.

"What's in the bags?" he asked, sticking close to her side as they crossed the street.

"Just a few supplies."

"Looks like you're getting ready to mop up after a war."

"Chance favors the well prepared."

"That's chance favors the prepared mind. Almost the same, but not quite," Lucas grinned, holding the door open for her. He didn't speak again until they were seated in front of the grimy window. "What are you preparing for, Miss Garrett?"

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best," she shrugged, not entirely sure why she kept speaking in stupid platitudes. The detective made her nervous, even though she'd done nothing wrong. "What is it you want to talk to me about?"

"Don't tell me you haven't seen your boyfriend's pictures in all the papers."

"I've been a little busy lately."

"And yet, your first instinct was to try and blow me off today. That seems unusual for a cop's daughter."

"Did you know my father?"

"No, I didn't. He was before my time.

At least he wasn't trying to pull that card with her. "Okay, let's cut through the bullshit. Yes, I am Cady Garrett, and yes, I have seen the news. You've got it all ass-wrong of course, and he didn't do it, but here's me cooperating. I'll answer any question you want."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," he smiled, waving over the lone waitress who poured them each a cup of coffee. Cady added two creamers and two packets of sugar, surprised when he didn't immediately start firing questions at her. She kept mum, stirring her coffee without actually taking a sip.

"Where is he?" Lucas asked finally.

"He's hiding out."

"Where?"

"In a safe place."

"You're not giving me anything to go on here."

"I said I'd answer your questions, I didn't say you'd like my answers. You don't really expect me to lead you right to him, do you?"

"No, I guess not. You know he's a dangerous man, right?"

"I do, but not in the way you're thinking."

"What if I told you there's more to David than meets the eye?"

Cady let out a long breath, adding ice cubes from her water to the coffee. "I'd say... I'm fairly sure there's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know about him."

"What about the fact that David isn't his real name?"

She stared at him stonily.

"Oh, you knew that one already. What about these?" He pulled a series of prints from his back pocket, sliding them across the table to her. Snapshots of drivers license photos in California, Texas and Florida. "Did you know he's also known as John Ford, Henry Jones and Thomas White?"

Barely glancing at the ID's, Cady shrugged back at him. "So? There's nothing wrong with changing your name. It doesn't make him a criminal."

"But this does." He waved another piece of paper at her, unfolding the copied sheet of text. "He's got arrests for three counts of assault over in Truckee, felony theft and aggravated assault in Sacramento, and a laundry list of charges in San Rafael. In Texas he's been linked to a string of murders down in Laredo. He's also wanted for questioning in the deaths of two men in Tallahassee. This is only a summary, the file I've got on him back at the office is an inch thick and those are just the crimes we know about."

Cady stared at the words on the page, trying to justify them in her mind. It wasn't him, obviously, it was the demons he chased after, but what could she say? "He's not a killer."

"No? Then why is this girl dead?" He slid across another picture, this one in lurid color, the girl lying broken on a dirty mattress.

"It's not him, you don't understand," she shoved the picture back at him, but he slid it right back in her face, not letting her escape the sight.

"I've seen video footage, Cady. If you come back with me you can see it for yourself. We have a mountain of evidence piling up. DNA evidence linking him to multiple deaths. This guy is one bad dude, definitely not someone to place your trust in."

"I'd like to go now." She rose from the table and he clapped his hand around her wrist.

"I can't let you go back to him, it'd be like handing you a loaded gun."

Cady refused to be cowed, meeting his gaze squarely. "You can't charge me with anything, I haven't done anything wrong."

"I can hold you for twenty-four hours though," he grinned. "Do you think your boyfriend might punch through the walls down at the precinct to come and get you out? That might be interesting to watch."

"He didn't do that, I told Ian..."

"Oh, right. You told your brother that your boss, Dylan Walsh, was the one to do that. Funny, no one can find Mr. Walsh to corroborate that, but I do have some accounts of a man matching David's description chasing a man who looks an awful lot like your boss down the street late last night."

"That's because he's crazy. He took off after David showed up to save me. Look, I don't know anything about the girl that was killed last night or why your witness put David at the scene. He was with me the entire time, that's all I have to say."

"And you're willing to testify to that."

"Of course."

"Of course you are." He let go of her wrist. "I'm trying to help you, Cady, but you're not making it very easy."

"I don't need your help, Detective. The safest place for me right now is by his side. You're looking in the wrong direction. Listen, I know you think I'm just a naïve girl who's letting this guy feed me a bunch of lines, but I know what I'm talking about. Trust me, he's one of the good guys."

"I hope for your sake I'm wrong, I really do."

The detective made no move to pursue her, but Cady didn't trust that she wasn't being followed. That meant she couldn't go back to the car, and she couldn't go back to the safe house. It wouldn't do her any good to buy a pre-paid phone because she had no idea what Ethan's new number was. At least she had plenty of walking around money, and she was familiar with the bus lines.

In times of trouble, as she often did, she headed for a strip of green, finding solace in the feel of grass under her feet. Things always seemed so much more peaceful at the park – the sounds of the city fading, replaced by squeals of laughter and the smell of cut grass. Finding a spot where she could see the playground, Cady squatted under a tree, waiting for inspiration to strike.

"Oh man, things are fucked up," she groaned, falling back in the shade as she watched the kids play nearby. She only got up from her spot twice. Once to buy a hot dog and a diet soda from a vendor and once to go to the bathroom, each time returning to the shade. There was no sign of anyone watching her, but she knew a good cop wouldn't be seen unless he wanted to be.

A plan started to form in the back of her mind, a loose one, but it was best to play things by ear, she thought. She'd have to wait for dark, which was still a few hours away, but it was her best bet.

She should have been back a long time ago and Ethan had to be worried about her by now. Ian too; she imagined him stewing at home, Kelli trying to distract him with something to eat.

Everybody worried about poor Cady.

"You know what?" she said to a squirrel who ventured out of the tree, his tail twitching manically. "I'm a little worried too."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ethan had long passed worried and had worked himself up into a state of panic. Cady should have been home hours ago, and he couldn't imagine her being so irresponsible as to spend the entire day shopping, not when she knew what was out there. Something had to have intercepted her, and with each passing hour, a more disturbing scenario popped into his head.

Twice he'd tried to use his vision to track her down, but all he got was static. The protection amulet he'd tucked into her pocket obscured his vision and he tried to take some solace in the thought that she'd be hidden from Q as well. As the sun dipped out of the sky, he decided to risk going out after her, even though he had no way to track her. Strapping on his knives and guns, Ethan girded himself for battle.

Maybe he could stop by and see Gobi. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He might be able to help him get a line on not only Cady, but also the subject. It was at least a place to start. Ethan threw open the door, nearly colliding with Cady in the hallway, arms full of a half dozen shopping bags. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, dragging her bodily into the apartment. After slamming the door shut, he pulled her into his embrace, heedless of the bags that fell around their feet, still half in a panic even at feeling her warm and alive in his arms.

"I've been out walking," she replied, her voice muffled by his chest.

"Walking." He pulled back to stare at her, willing her to explain. "This whole time?"

"No, only for the last hour or so. I had to make sure I gave the cops the slip before I came back here."

"Why do you think the cops were following you?"

"Because that's exactly what I would have done if I was them. Let me go, but then trailed me from the coffee shop, to see if I'd lead them back to you."

"I think maybe you'd better start at the beginning." Ethan let go of her and she picked up a couple of plastic bags, setting them on the counter.

"Okay, but I'm gonna make something to eat while I talk if you don't mind, I'm super hungry. You must by starving by now too. Do you want anything?"

"I want you to tell me why the cops are even in this equation." His eyes darted to the door, and he set the locks while she messed around with the coffee pot.

"I might have made the teensiest little mistake," she winced, and the story started to spill out. It was hard not to blame her for the rookie mistake, but he could understand why she'd called and left the message for her brother. They'd both underestimated the police's involvement so far, and he wouldn't make that slip-up again. She wouldn't like it, but Ethan resolved not to let her out of his sight again.

The intel the police had amassed on him troubled him more deeply. He'd been unaware that they'd linked some of his past identities together. There was no way he'd be able to keep that from the Company, in fact, he was surprised they hadn't alerted him to it in the first place. It could be handled, especially if the connections had only been made by a few people. Ethan decided to consider it a blessing in disguise, the better to fix it before it got out of hand. It shouldn't prove too difficult, unless this Detective Lucas turned out to be a crusader. If so... then he'd have to take steps.

"So, did I do the right thing? Or should I not have come back here at all?" Cady was asking him, and he drew away from his internal thoughts to reply.

"No, you did the right thing." The twists and turns she'd related to him on her journey back to the safe house were dizzying to behold, and he was fairly confident she'd eluded any tail the police had on her.

"Good, I was worried," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"What is all this?" he asked, watching her process in the kitchen with interest.

"Ah, well I had planned to stop somewhere for takeout on the way back, but I decided it was safer not to wait around in the open. So, this is the best I can do for a hot meal." She'd made mugs of instant chicken noodle soup with the first batch of hot water from the coffee pot. On plates she'd spread out a layer of tortilla chips and warmed up a jar of Cheez Whiz in the hot water carafe until it poured like liquid gold. Thick blobs of jarred salsa followed. "We can do chili dogs like this too, but I didn't get any hot dogs today. Good thing too, or they would have gone bad in the sun. Are you hungry?"

Suddenly ravenous, but not for food, he could only nod mutely as she set the spread out on the small coffee table. He would have been content with the bag of chips and some beef jerky, but she'd made them a hot meal. How had he ended up so lucky?

His eyes followed her through the room as she went back for napkins and sodas, clucking over the fact that they were warmer than she liked. With everything that was going on around them, she was constantly surprising him with how normal she was.

Normal and innocent and sweet and beautiful and... and...

"What?" she asked, her head cocked to one side.

For once Ethan felt like there might be more to life than the hunt, and it was at once both scary and liberating. He pictured them in a different apartment, bigger, nicer. He had money enough to provide them both a comfortable life, she wouldn't have to go back to letting men drool over her for a living. He'd have to work of course, and there would be dangers, but he could protect her.

What would it be like to come home to her fussing over him? To have someone to bandage up his hurts and scold him for taking chances? To share meals with and watch movies. To talk. The concept had become foreign to him, but Ethan realized he enjoyed talking to her, even when it was mostly listening to her chatter.

Shit. He loved her. It took him a while to recognize it, but he loved her. He wasn't lucky, he was cursed. "Nothing, let's eat."

* * *

"What's this?" Ethan held up a box of black hair dye from the drugstore bag. "I hate to see you cover up your hair like this, but it's a good idea. You hair is pretty recognizable."

"This isn't for me, it's for you. You're the one with your picture on the evening news. I'm not putting that junk in my hair."

"I don't think it'll make all that much difference. I'll stick to this and I'll be fine." He pulled the hoodie up over his head.

"At least wear the hat I bought you," she frowned, pushing back the hood and replacing it with the stiff cap.

"No... that's no good." He tipped it off again. "It looks all brand new, it'll stick out like a sore thumb. This is better." Ethan pulled the hoodie back into place.

"Fine, be a baby," she muttered, and Ethan suppressed a smile at her disgruntled expression.

"What about you? You're not going out like that, are you?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She turned around, examining the shorts and tank top with a critical eye, giving him a nice view of her backside.

"You have to cover up or you'll have every pair of male eyes on us each step of the way."

"You're kidding, right? It's still eighty degrees out there. I'm not wearing pants and a sweater, that'll stick out more in this heat. Besides, I'm not wearing anything as slutty as I have to dress for work."

"Used to dress for work," he reminded, and she made a very unladylike snort.

"When did you get to be so bossy?"

"When you became my girl. Now let's get a move on, we're running out of time." Despite the urgent words, he felt good. Light. As he guided them through the darkened streets he felt more in control than he had in a while. Proactive instead of reactive.

Gobi lived in a sprawling apartment covering the entire second floor over a converted bank that was now a jewelry store. Four rooms that had previously been bank offices had been remodeled into bedrooms, usually inhabited by a changing stream of hangers on. The man himself commanded a large suite of rooms on the north corner of the building. The ceilings were high, at least ten feet, the marble tiles cracked in a few places, but largely intact. The original moldings needed a new coat of paint, but they were still impressive. Ethan happened to know that Gobi owned the entire building.

Despite the signs of wealth in owning such a large piece of real estate, Gobi lived simply. The furnishings were eclectic, a nubby brown couch sat next to a glass and chrome coffee table. A large papasan chair jostled for space next to a brocade covered wing back and an ancient bean bag scarred with duct tape.

Instead of calling ahead, Ethan decided it would be best to show up unannounced. Giving Cady a reassuring wink as he lifted his hand to knock, he was disconcerted when a shouted, "Come in," sounded from inside.

Ushering her in, Ethan led them to the main living area. Gobi slumped on the beanbag chair, attention fixed on the videogame controls in hand. An orgy of carnage displayed on the large screen TV as he navigated a dungeon-like maze, a huge two sided axe in hand. "Die, you commie bastard, die!" he yelled, fingers pressing spastically before giving a whoop of triumph, pausing the game. "Hey, Ethan," he yawned, reaching his hands over his head, ankles rotating in a long stretch.

"He knows your name?" Cady startled beside him and Ethan shrugged.

"Can't fool a psychic, sister," Gobi grinned, stumbling to his feet. He wore a flowered, Kimono style robe over a pair of long shorts and a classic I'm a Pepper t-shirt. His dirty blonde hair hung into his eyes, little braids tied with colorful rubber bands sticking out every which way. A distinct odor of marijuana and incense hung heavy in the room, making him want to sneeze, but Ethan switched to shallow breaths and the urge passed.

Ethan's head twitched to one side, listening carefully, but he couldn't detect the sounds of anyone else in the apartment. "Empty house tonight, Gobi? What happened to your entourage?"

"Nah man, vultures, all of em," the man scowled. "I needed some time to myself to recharge. Always glad to see an old friend though," he brightened. "Can I get you some refreshments? A little toke to take off the edge?"

"No, thank you, we're here on business."

"It's always business with you, man. When are you gonna live a little? Or wait... you dawg! You've been living just fine." Gobi's gaze fell to Cady, his smile stretching wide. "What's a fine piece like you doing with an old geezer like this?" he asked, reaching for her hand, but Cady gave him a frosty glare.

"I guess this piece prefers men whose brains haven't leaked out their ears," she retorted, looping her arm through Ethan's.

"Ouch, I like her, she's feisty. Relax, I have nothing but respect for the man, especially seeing as how he can snap me in half with his pinky," Gobi waggled his little finger in the air. "But if you ever find yourself wanting to chill..."

"I'll pick up some ice cream," Cady interrupted. "Ethan, are you sure this guy can help us?"

"Madam, you wound me." Gobi laid a hand over his heart, tottering back a few steps. "I can hook you up, but it's going to cost you." His eyes looked her boldly up and down and Cady recoiled from the implication.

"Ick, no deal."

"Relax," Ethan steadied her, knowing Gobi was mostly harmless; he just couldn't control most of the garbage that came out of his mouth. "Stop hitting on my girl or I'll forget how far back we go. You know I can pay, so let's get this show on the road."

"No sense of humor," Gobi muttered with a shake of his head. Striding to the papasan chair, he curled himself into the bowl, grabbing a pad of paper and a pencil from the end table next to it. "What are we looking for today?"

"That's part of the problem. We don't know what form we're after."

"That complicates things. Slap me some skin, bro." Gobi held his hand out, palm up, and Ethan placed his tattooed hand over it. "Just relax and let my fingers do the walking," he breathed, eyes staring straight ahead.

This was the part Ethan hated, giving the man admission to his thoughts. A solitary man by need, it chafed to allow such intimate access. Still, it had proven helpful in the past, and it was the only way he knew how to convey who the target was.

The psychic picked up the pencil with his other hand, the sketch pad propped up on his knees. The tip of the pencil traveled lazily over the page in a loop, crossing back over itself in the other direction in an infinite pattern. Over and over it traced over itself, following the lines, making it darker, moving faster. Then the pencil shifted, scratching against the paper as he scribbled, hand traveling over the page in jerky movements. Ethan couldn't make out what the words said from his vantage point, but it had to be a good sign, he'd never seen him fill the page so quickly.

Finally his hand stilled, and Gobi blinked, breaking the connection between them. "Let's see what we got here," he said, a pucker appearing on his brow as he squinted at the page. "Sorry dude, alls I got is Cady, over and over again."

"That's me!" Cady popped up and Gobi waved in her direction.

"Well, there you go."

Ethan's heart sank, it was no better than his visions. He knew well enough that the subject was obsessed with Cady, but it put them no closer to catching him. "That's really all you got?"

"Hey, the gift don't lie. She's your key, she knows his true form."

"What are you talking about?" Cady demanded, recoiling as Gobi leaned close to sniff the air around her.

"I can see his mark all over you."

"That's because he attacked me," she insisted indignantly. "I don't know where to find him, I swear."

"She can lead you to him," Gobi persisted, but Ethan was already shaking his head.

"No good, I won't risk her. We have to find another way."

"Then you're screwed, man. There is no other way. I'm telling you, she's your key."

"How can I lead you to him?" Cady asked. "I have no idea where he is."

"If you call him, he will come. Like that baseball movie in the cornfields," Gobi smiled wide. "Let him come to you and..."

"No way," Ethan interrupted, all set to pull her out of there before she got any ideas. It was far too dangerous to invoke the demon directly, it gave him too much power. Gobi knew that. "She's not going to open herself up to that... that..."

"It's all good, man." Gobi held up a hand, reaching behind his chair and coming up with a plastic baggie of black powder. "I got you covered."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"You know it. Guaranteed to ward off all manner of psychic attacks as long as we keep this in the astral plane. Are you game, sweetheart?"

"What is that?" Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the baggie.

"Black salt," Ethan replied. "It should keep him from being able to hurt you in the astral plane." It wasn't a bad idea, but he still didn't like giving the demon access to her like that.

Cady accepted the explanation readily enough, quicker than he would have thought, but then again, she'd seen plenty over the past few days to suspend her normal disbelief. "How could he hurt me in the astral plane anyway?"

"Some demons don't only feed from humans in person, they also steal life force in the form of dreams. Remember how tired you were before you started covering the mirrors at night? That was him." Ethan noted the slight paling of her cheeks and quickly got through the rest of it. "Subject Q has the ability to feed in the astral plane as well. If he chose to sever the tie to your body in this plane, you would slip into a coma and eventually die."

"Subject Q, I love how you make them sound like lab rats," Gobi snorted, but they ignored him.

"But he can't do that if you use that black stuff."

"It should protect you, yes," Ethan nodded, reaching for her hand. "But you don't have to do this. We can find another way."

"What good does it do if I make contact with him? I can't kill him there, can I?"

"No, but he might show you what body he's in now. That would be a big help. The astral plane shares the same space with this one, so it could also give us a clue to where he is."

"What would I have to do?" she breathed.

"Let me put you in a trance," Gobi replied. "Then you just have to call his name and bam, you'll connect." He clapped his hands together.

"What's his name?"

Gobi smiled wide. "You already know."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

More than a little anxious over the prospect of deliberately seeking the demon out, Cady deliberately ignored their preparations, trying and failing to take out orcs on the psychic's video game. It helped to get out some of the nervous energy by hacking and slashing at monsters, she only wished she didn't keep dying so much. It seemed like a depressing omen.

All too soon Ethan laid his hand on her shoulder, and she briefly considered chickening out. The idea passed quickly though. Better to get it over with than have to keep hiding out, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She let the health run out on the game, unsure how to pause it, and Ethan helped her up out of the bean bag chair.

"You're going to be fine. We'll be right here," he assured, his voice low and calm. "If it looks like you're in the least bit of distress, we'll pull you out of it."

"You promise?"

"I do. Just... try to remember he's volatile, so treat him with kid gloves. He claims to love you, so use that to your advantage if you can."

Cady nodded, letting him lead her to the center of the floor where a series of symbols were drawn on the marble tile with black grease pencil. She recognized some of the markings as the same ones on the walls of the safe house, but she had no idea what they signified. "One of these days you're going to have to teach me what these symbols mean."

"That might not be a bad idea," Ethan agreed readily. "Though I'm not sure if you'll have the ability to spell them. It takes practice."

"If this doesn't work we're going to have plenty of time on our hands," she pointed out, stepping carefully over the black marks.

"Go ahead and lie down in the center. You're going to want to be as comfortable as possible."

"Why do I feel like a human sacrifice?" Cady muttered, doing as she was told.

"No, that's an entirely different ritual, and I thought you said you weren't a virgin?" Ethan deadpanned and she stuck her tongue out at him. She could appreciate his efforts to make her feel more at ease, and it worked up to a point. "Just lie back and breathe deeply while we seal you in. You'll start to feel light, like you're floating when it starts. Try not to worry, that's supposed to happen."

"That's right. Then when you leave your body behind, make your booty call and you should be good," Gobi added, hopping over parts of the circle, embellishing the curve of a symbol, making the tail longer on another.

"Right, when I leave my body behind. No problem," Cady breathed, getting as comfortable as she could on the hard tile floor.

"You're going to be fine, I promise," Ethan brushed the hair away from her forehead, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips and Cady caught at his hand.

"Is that all I get? How about a real kiss for luck?" she smiled hopefully, rewarded when he bent to do a more thorough job of it. As much as she didn't want to let him go, Cady gave him a brave wink before closing her eyes.

All around her she heard chanting and sensed movement circling her body, a curious shaking sound accompanying the motion. Her ears popped uncomfortably and the sounds grew fainter. No amount of yawning or swallowing cleared the pressure change, and soon she didn't care. It was hard to care about anything. She felt... calm, loose, as if nothing touched her.

With a lurch she floated free, drifting out of her body and into the air. When she opened her "eyes", Cady clearly saw her body lying below, the pair of men kneeling outside the circle, Ethan rocking gently in place. It didn't bother her though; she knew it was supposed to be happening, and in her relaxed state she didn't worry about it. She didn't worry about anything.

Enjoying the sensation, she hovered above the room, amusing herself by pushing away from the ceiling and drifting back again with only a flex of her will. Once when the ceiling pressed at her back, she passed through it into the floor above, and Cady marveled at how easily she could explore with no walls to hold her.

Dimly, she knew there was something she was supposed to be doing, but it was hard to focus long enough to recall it. There was someone she needed to meet. If only she could remember who it was.

Ash.

The name reverberated through her consciousness and she tried it on her "tongue". "Ash..." It was close, but not quite right. "Ash, Ash, Ash..." she repeated the mantra, feeling her concentration swirl tighter with the focused name. "I have to find Ash. No... Asherik. I need to find Asherik. Asherik..."

Cady felt the answering cry and all at once she spiraled higher, moving faster and faster, too blurry for her to see the direction. And then bam, just like Gobi warned, Cady felt her spirit coalesce into a version of her own body, feeling solid and more herself. Remembering her true purpose.

"Asherik?" she said again, and a man stepped from the shadows, his eyes alight with pleasure. Cady didn't recognize him, but realized he bore a slight resemblance to Ethan, with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"You came to me!" he beamed, reaching for her hands. "I knew that you would."

"I did," she nodded, trying not to flinch when he held her hands, but easing somewhat when he didn't press for more. "I thought maybe we should talk."

"I've missed our talks," he nodded, leading her to a padded window seat. "Would you like to sit here, or should we go to the park instead?"

"No, this is fine," Cady answered quickly, taking a seat beside him, trying to get a good look at the place. It looked like a single family home instead of an apartment, with an old fashioned woodstove tucked into the corner. The décor was masculine, heavy on the earth tones, with nothing but a few cheap prints on the walls. Despite the clutter, there were no personal photos or features that gave a clue as to who lived there.

"Is that what you look like now?" she ventured, doing her best to commit the appearance to memory.

"You don't like this body? I thought you would find it pleasing," he frowned, and she shook her head, eager to get him to stop hopping from body to body.

"No, I like it just fine. It's um, very handsome," she added awkwardly. It felt so strange, sitting there with him the way she had night after night, baring her soul. No, not like those nights. That was before she knew what he was. The longing she'd felt for him sickened her now, and yet, a thread of the connection was still there. Cady pulled her hands from his, fearing what that said about her.

"What do you want?" she asked boldly, not sure how long the dream would last.

"I want you."

"You want me to do what?"

"I want to be with you, that's all," he chuckled, reaching for her hand again.

"You don't want to carve me open and snack on my insides?"

"I've no doubt you'd prove sweet," he lifted her hand to his lips for a brief kiss. "But no, I mean you no violence."

"But you are violent. You've killed."

"That has nothing to do with you and me," he replied with an utter lack of guilt and Cady pulled her hand back again.

"How can you say that? You killed someone last night."

"I did."

"Why? Why do you have to kill?" she asked, trying hard to reconcile the pleasant man she sat opposite from with the memory of him busting through her wall in a rage.

"I didn't choose this life, it's what I am now," he shrugged. "I was summoned here by human intent, not my own design. I've stopped thinking about returning to what I was before, I've accepted my life now. You should too, especially now that we've found one another."

"You're stuck here?" she blinked, ignoring the press of his leg against hers. "Where did you come from?"

"I hardly remember it now, only that it was a different place. We had no bodies such as you, no need to surround ourselves with so many things. I've come to enjoy this realm though, the pleasures, even the vices."

"Would you go back if you could?"

"Why would I want to?" His brows drew together in puzzlement. "Now that I've found you, I see that this is where I belong."

Balls. Just when she'd thought she was onto something, he brought them right back to where she started. "You can't keep killing people though. You can understand why, can't you?"

"Because it upsets you?"

"Because it's wrong."

"If it's wrong, then why is it so prevalent here? All the world over people maim and kill for varied reasons. Why not for hunger?"

"I thought you didn't need to eat people."

"There are all kinds of hunger. I can feed from love as well as fear, but I must feed to survive. If I did not have the right to feed, then why would I have been created thus?"

That sparked a theological discussion that Cady felt ill equipped to argue. Once more he displayed a sharp mind and a witty tongue, reminding her how much she'd enjoyed their talks. Round and round they went and she felt no closer to making her point. The one bit of play she had was in his desire to make her happy. "You could choose to stop killing though, if you wanted to?" She seized upon that single fact.

"If I had your love, I think I could. I did not kill while you came to me in your dreams. It was only after you were kept from me that I... slipped."

So, if she kept coming to him the world would be safe. Awesomesauce. "Ash, do you ever think about why you feel the way you do about me?"

"No, I only think about being near you, to drink in your beauty," he replied, fingers trailing along her shoulder to brush lightly against her neck.

"I hate to break it to you, but you don't love me, you only think you do. It's nothing more than simple chemistry. See, what happened was..."

His fingers hovered over her lips, stilling her words. "If this is not love, I don't know what is. You said you needed love to give yourself to me. I've respected that wish, have I not?"

What did he call busting through her apartment wall? Taking a hold of his hand, Cady met his blue eyes, speaking as gently as she could. "I don't love you." Having steeled herself for the worst, his crooked smile caught her off guard.

"I realize my mistake in choosing that last body. I thought only of getting close to you, not your attraction for it. If this one is not to your liking, we'll pick the next body out together, shall we?"

"No, it's not about the body. Ash..."

"I know there is a part of you that loves me," he interrupted with a confident twist of the lips. "You wouldn't have come to me otherwise."

"I came to ask you to stop the violence."

"And to see me again," he grinned. "You've missed me, haven't you?"

"No, I..." The lie died in her throat. Christ, part of her had missed him, even as she'd known there was something wrong with him all along, she'd still craved the time with him in her dreams. Cady swallowed, trying to hold tight to the knowledge that the charming smile masked a taste for violence.

"What can I do to prove my love to you?" he asked, kissing her fingertips.

"Stop killing people for one thing," she snapped, snatching her fingers away even as she recognized that she had to take control of the conversation back. "And no more trying to frame Ethan for your crimes."

"I will, I won't kill so much as a fly," Ash promised, laying a hand over his heart. "I won't even eat red meat."

"And Ethan?"

"I'll leave the reaper alone unless he comes for me. Then all bets are off."

There wasn't much she could say to that, she doubted he'd be willing to lay down and die to prove his love. "And stop trying to hunt me down. No more jumping into my boss or my friends. If you try to trick me again I won't forgive you."

"Will you come to me again?"

The thought both pleased and terrified her, which in turn, scared the crap out of her even more. But how could she say no, knowing she could keep others from dying by giving him this one thing? "Yes, I'll come to you again. Maybe not every night, but I'll come."

He caught her up in his embrace and Cady closed her eyes, wondering what she'd just agreed to. "I'll be waiting," he pledged. Slowly, her hands moved to return the embrace, to keep him happy, she told herself. "Don't abandon me." His lips moved along the shell of her ear, sending a shiver across the fine hairs on her neck. "I can be the man you want me to be."

Chapter Thirty

"What did you promise him?"

Cady sucked in a deep breath, dizzy from the speed with which she slammed into her own body. Ethan stood over her, his brows drawn together into a single, angry line. "W-What?" Her mouth was dry and no matter how much she swallowed, it didn't seem to help.

"Dude, chill." Gobi elbowed him out of the way, a red plastic Iron Man cup in hand. "Here you go, Cady-bear, have a pull on this."

"What..." she croaked.

"It's just Kool-Aid, man. But I got something stronger if you'd rather."

Cady took a sip of the sickeningly sweet punch, moistening her lips. "No, what made you call me that?" she asked when her voice cooperated again. Gobi just waggled his eyebrows at her, a goofy grin on his face.

Ethan knelt beside her, his face anxious. "Are you alright? Just take it easy, it's normal to feel a bit loopy for a while."

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied taking another sip. "Listen, I had an idea while I was in there. What if we try to send him home? He said he'd been summoned by a human – doesn't that mean we can send him back?" It would solve everything, and someone at his Company had to have the know how to pull it off.

"No dice, it's way too dangerous." Gobi made a face and Ethan nodded grimly beside him.

"Opening a portal between worlds is tricky. You never know what else might come through. No, the only chance is to bind him. Did you find out anything useful about where he is?

She hadn't thought of it that way, but from the way they both immediately shot that idea down, she understood it might be more trouble than it was worth. "No, I don't think so, I moved way too fast between there and here to see anything."

"Think back, where were you?" Ethan prompted, helping her up to a sitting position.

"Ah, it was dark, so I couldn't see out the windows, but it felt more like a house than an apartment. I can describe the window curtains to you, the color of the couch... but nothing that will tell us where it is."

"Did you hear anything?"

"Not really..." she thought back. "I guess that means it's away from the street noise."

"That cuts out this neighborhood," Gobi said, picking up his pad of paper and turning to a new page. "Do you mind?" He offered her his palm, asking for her hand.

"Sure." Cady drained the rest of the cup, setting it aside to take his hand, watching closely as his pencil moved over the page, his vacant stare unsettling. This time he only spent a few strokes on the loopy coils, immediately sketching clusters of shapes of descending sizes. It was hard to make them out until the fourth or fifth pass and she clued into what they were.

"Russian dolls," she called out excitedly. "That's what those are. I think maybe he was in my boss's house. He said something before about collecting Russian nesting dolls. I didn't notice them in the clutter, but that's what they must be."

"Do you know where he lives?" Ethan asked, his body tensing to stand only to be deflated by her response.

"No, I have no idea."

"Shit," he muttered in disgust. "What good does that do us then?"

"I don't know man, I just work here," Gobi blinked, coming out of it.

"It seems like we should be able to find a record of it somewhere, he's a business owner, a regular upstanding citizen," Cady pointed out, unwilling to give it up so easily. Why was Ethan being so negative? "Maybe he's even in the phone book?"

"Alright, we'd better get moving." Ethan rose, pulling her up beside him and she clung to his arm for support for a moment, her head still wonky.

"Are you sure you guys can't stick around for a while? I could make some brownies, the kind you like." Gobi gave Ethan a conspiratorial wink, his grin making the gesture ridiculous. Ethan ignored it, pulling out a thick sheaf of bills and thrusting it at him.

"No, thank you. We need to be on our way."

"I see how it is, F you very much then," Gobi shook his head in disgust.

"Thank you for your help," Cady offered, feeling awkward with the abrupt exchange. Weren't they friends? "It was really nice meeting you."

"Come back any time, especially without him." Gobi kicked a foot in Ethan's direction, but he didn't seem to mind if he'd bruised the psychic's feelings.

"Bye," she smiled, offering a last wave as she trailed along behind Ethan. He didn't speak at all, leading her back to the car without stopping for anything. "Where are we going?" she asked when he started the car.

"To find your boss's address."

"Okay." She decided to try and draw him out, maybe she'd figure out what had his panties in a wad. "What did he mean about the brownies, the kind you like?"

"Nothing."

"Ethan Shaw, have you been eating magic brownies?" she grinned, poking him in the shoulder. "I never would have guessed you were the type." Not that she seriously thought he might be a stoner, he was way too focused.

"It's not like that," he muttered irritably. "Sometimes they help with the visions."

That made sense, but she continued to needle him, trying to get him to look at her. "Uh huh. Tell me another one, Smokey McPott."

Nothing.

"Geez, and I thought potheads were supposed to be mellow," she mumbled, giving up. Whatever it was that had him in a lousy mood was catching, and Cady was in a much more subdued frame of mind as they pulled to a stop. "The DMV? Isn't it a little late to try that? They've been closed for hours."

"That's the point." Ethan pulled a tablet device out from under his seat, tapping the touchscreen with rapid movements.

Cady gave up trying to see what he was doing on the little screen when he didn't offer to tilt it towards her one iota, and focused her attention on finding a decent radio station. Peppercorn came on, and she sat back, letting out a long, bored breath.

"I've got his address here," he reported, handing her the tablet as he started the car again.

"Awesomesauce," Cady replied, the boredom replaced by a quiver of anticipation. Was it really that easy? What had Ethan been so grouchy about then? The address wasn't far, they could be there in less than ten minutes without traffic. "See, that wasn't so bad," she ventured, but Ethan resisted the attempt at conversation. Was he trying to psyche himself up for battle? "Hey, what's going on? Are you alright?" she asked point blank.

"Nothing, we're back on track now," he answered without looking at her.

"Um, no... we're not, actually. We're going in the wrong direction. Fell is that way," Cady gestured to the south.

"I'm taking you back to the apartment, you'll be safe there."

"The hell I will. I'm not staying there while you go after him alone."

"I'm not taking you with me and I'm not leaving you in the car. It's far too dangerous."

"Yeah, for you. He won't hurt me, he thinks he's in love with me."

"So I heard," Ethan muttered.

"I think we should use that to our benefit, don't you?"

"I don't see how without letting him take you, and that's far too risky."

Cady sat in silence, taking the seeds of an idea and forming them into an argument before she spoke again. "What happens if you find him there tonight?"

"I'll bind him and this will be over."

"Or he might get away again and we blow our advantage," she pointed out. It wasn't like he had the best track record against Ash so far. "Not that I'm saying that will happen, but it's a distinct possibility, isn't it?"

"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to damage my calm?" he growled, and she held her hands up in a supplicating gesture.

"Hear me out. I was thinking. What if I had him in the astral plane, would you still be able to bind him?"

"How do you mean?"

"Say I went back to see him again, like I did tonight, only you knew exactly where he was first to mount an ambush. If I had him distracted in the astral plane, would you be able to bind him, or is he separated from his human host when he's with me?" She had his attention now, she could see it in the way the pinched look faded from his brow to be replaced with a curious pucker.

"It depends. He's able to exist without a human host. He could live in an incorporeal state indefinitely if he chose to. But if he's inhabited a body, then he can send just part of himself to a dream state or to the astral plane to be with you. He would still be tethered to the body if that's the case. We wouldn't know until I tried the binding ritual though."

"Isn't that worth trying instead of going up against him like this? If I can distract him..."

"It might not work," Ethan said with a shake of the head. "I'm not sure the rusty dagger will hold him if he's not completely in the host. He might sever all ties with the body and escape if he gets enough notice."

"Hence the distracting." She smiled beatifically, but he wasn't convinced.

"We can't take the chance that he won't move on to another hideout. I have to take him tonight."

"Okay, then let's do this tonight. I can take it." The loopy, floating feeling hadn't lasted long at all, and Cady felt confident she could reach Ash again if only she called. He'd said he would be waiting.

Ethan pulled into a parking spot a block away from the safe house. "Why don't you say what you really mean?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You want to see him again," he said, lips settling into a grim line, his hands gripping the steering wheel until the knuckles stood out white under his skin.

"What?"

"I heard you."

"I never said I wanted to see him again."

"But you promised him you would."

"You heard that?" she blinked. Somehow she'd been under the impression that the experience took place in her head.

"I heard the way you spoke to him, Cady. Every response, every cadence... every word."

Cady struggled to remember her half of the conversation, the conflicted emotions she'd felt when speaking to Ash. No, not Ash. The demon. He wasn't a man, not her dream lover; a demon, pure and simple. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized some of that conflict must have shown in her voice. If it had been enough to convince the demon that he stood a chance with her, she could see how it had convinced Ethan as well.

That was what had him in such a snippy mood? "You're jealous."

"Why the hell shouldn't I be?" he retorted. "It's not every day a guy has to hear his girl make time with another guy right in front of him."

"I wasn't... you said to use his feelings to get what I needed, that's all I was doing."

"Is it? It sure didn't sound that way on our end."

Flooded with guilt, Cady was grateful for the darkened car, the better to hide her shame. What could she say when she'd struggled with those same doubts? "Ethan..." her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I don't..." She let out a long breath. "I'm not going to lie to you, there is something there, some kind of connection between him and me, and I can't help but feel a little sorry for him."

"Feel sorry for him?" His eyes blazed in the uncertain light and Cady recoiled from the vehemence in his voice. "Do you have any idea how many lives he's taken?"

"I know, I'm not saying I want to be with him, not at all. I absolutely want you to bind him away where he can't hurt anyone ever again. That's the only reason why I'm suggesting this two pronged attack. It's not because I want to spend more time with him. I want to help you take him down, I swear."

Ethan turned away, eyes unseeing. "I just don't understand how you can feel anything for him at all. I thought you were immune to his influence."

"I don't know if it's the blood or what, but the important distinction here is, I don't want there to be a connection between us. The only one I want to connect with is you. Ethan, look at me." She reached for his hand, peeling it away from the steering wheel. "Trust me, that feeling of disgust you have in the pit of your stomach when you think of the two of us together, I'm right there with you, times ten. I just want him gone."

His hand sat dead in hers for long seconds, until finally, his fingers curled around hers. "I won't let him have you, I promise you that. If it's the last thing I do, I'll bind him away where he can never reach you again."

"I don't want it to be the last thing you do, that's the whole point." She squeezed his hand gently. "Please, let me help."

"I can't do this and be worried about you every step of the way. I have to know that you're out of harm's way. Come on, I'll walk you upstairs."

Cady nodded, accepting the defeat if that's what it took to give him the peace of mind he needed to get the job done. Only once they made it into the small apartment she was loathe to let him go. No amount of racking her brain could come up with a compelling reason to get him to linger though, not without sounding like she wanted to keep him from completing his task. "I guess this is it then, huh? Saying good luck seems like not enough."

"I don't need luck, I've got right on my side. We always win in the end." He gave her a lopsided smile that made her want to weep. Clinging to his hand, she kept him a moment longer.

"I almost forgot, I can tell you what he looks like. At least, what he looked like when I got there."

"Oh right. How could I not have asked you that before?" His eyes closed in self reproach and Cady suppressed a smile.

"You were too distracted by the green-eyed monster."

"I make no apologies. I'm not the type of guy to share, so whatever games you girls like to play these days, count me out." There was a serious cast to his gaze, despite the tilt of amusement on his lips, that had Cady thinking he meant that more than most guys.

"Ditto. And that goes double with any female demons, by the way. I don't care what kind of influence they have, you don't get a free pass for the demon made me do it."

"Fair enough," he nodded, his smile broader. "So, what does he look like?"

"Oh, right. Actually... he's blonde, blue-eyed, about your height, maybe heavier around the middle, but your general size. Do you see where I'm going here?"

"The police interest in my activities suddenly makes a lot more sense."

"Exactly. He could pass for your brother, so be careful if you run into anyone who looks like they could be part of your family tree."

"Got it, thanks. Well, I should get going, I want to get there while it's still dark."

"There's plenty of night left."

"Cady..." His head tilted to one side in exasperation and Cady knew she was stalling, but it was hard to let him go.

"I know, you have to go. Be careful."

"I will." Ethan cradled her cheek with the palm of his hand, bringing her close for a lingering kiss. "Promise me you'll stay here until you hear from me. Here, take my phone, I'll pick up another one. I'll text you when it's done."

"I promise, I won't set one foot outside this apartment," Cady agreed readily, trying to let go of the uneasiness that gripped her. Why did she feel like this was the last time she'd ever see him again? Ethan nodded, his hand falling away as he turned to go, and Cady caught hold of his arm. "Wait. There's something I want to tell you."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him fiercely, heart pounding. "I um..." love you, she said the words in the shelter of her mind, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate as she chickened out. What if that declaration freaked him out? Ethan had barely gotten used to the idea of having a girlfriend, she had no business giving him a distraction like that before he marched into battle.

"Christ, this isn't the time for this," she muttered, letting go of the death grip she had on his shoulders. "You know what, nevermind. I know you'll do great. Break a leg."

"Alright." Ethan gave her a puzzled look as he extracted himself from her embrace. "Lock up after I leave."

"Stay safe," she repeated his favorite caution, unable to shake the disquiet that seeped back into her bones the instant he slipped out of sight.

Chapter Thirty-One

There wasn't anything good on TV. Pringles, Ding Dongs, Slim Jims, nothing sounded good to eat either. There weren't any books to read and she couldn't get past Ethan's stupid password protection on the laptop. Briefly, she thought about running out to pick up a magazine at least, but she'd given her word. Not a single foot outside the apartment until she heard back from him.

What the hell was she supposed to do until then?

If her nerves had been jittery before he left, they were jangling like crazy now, and Cady found herself pacing around the small apartment. "This is nuts," she muttered irritably, popping a square of chocolate into her mouth. If she didn't do something to calm down, she was in serious danger of losing her mind.

Her eyes settled on the bathroom door, the one avenue she hadn't considered. Why not take a bath? The hot water might work on some of the tension building between her shoulders. Seizing upon the plan, Cady quickly stripped, brushing her teeth while she waited for the tub to fill, more for something to do than any real need. There were no bubbles or bath salts, she hadn't thought to pick any up and it wasn't the sort of thing one expected to find in a safe house, but the steamy water proved soothing as she lowered herself into the tub.

Finally letting go of some of the anxiety, Cady closed her eyes, sinking low in the water. Letting her thoughts float free, she drifted, her mind spinning a dozen scenarios in which Ethan stormed in upon Asherik. It was for the best. Ethan would come home safe and sound, and Ash... Ash would find peace.

* * *

Anticipation.

Asherik the demon floated, his mortal body forgotten. Water, food – what need did he have for such things when she might call at any time? When the host wore out he would simply find another, the plans of sowing revenge against the reaper of less importance now that she'd come to him freely.

It was too soon, he knew that on some level, but still he searched, hoping to find her, even if only to watch her while she slept. The whisper of his name brushed his senses, and ever alert, Ash sent his consciousness there, quick as lightning. The tiny bathroom mirror afforded him enough of a view to see that he'd found her, his lady love.

Asherik sent more of himself, flowing through the mirror like an angel's breath, so lightly did he approach her. She lay in a tub of heated water, the curtain of red hair floating as if it had a life of its own, shielding her modesty. Lovely in repose, he drank his fill of her perfection, his goddess of the sea. He could feel the magics on the wall behind him, barring him from entering the other room, but his clever love had found a safe haven for them to be together.

His energy flowed over her supple limbs, the water no barrier to him in that form. She stirred, the water lapping at her breasts as she shifted slightly, and Asherik despaired of her waking before he could join her. No longer content to watch, he prepared to merge his mind with hers in the dreamstate, only to abandon that plan for a far better one.

Asherik severed ties to the body dreaming back at the house, summoning all of his being into the tiny bathroom before plunging himself into her heart with a cry of exquisite pleasure.

* * *

Cady's eyes flew open, sucking in a gasping breath as her body filled and expanded, so great, she thought she might burst. She'd been dreaming – of what, she couldn't remember – but as she gripped the sides of the tub, she had the distinct feeling she hadn't returned to reality.

Everything felt... wrong. The light too dim, the water neither hot nor cold, her limbs heavy and sluggish. Everything felt soft and subdued, as though she watched a dream sequence on TV. And something else. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Hello, beloved." The voice sounded in the stillness of her mind, caressing and intimate in a way she couldn't retreat from.

"Ash?" She splashed, drawing her knees up as her head whipped around, but there was no sign of him in the bathroom with her.

"Of course, who else would it be?"

"How are you here? Am I dreaming?"

"I've joined you, just as you wanted."

"As I wanted? I never invited you here," she protested, addressing the open air.

"But you did, you called to me, else I wouldn't have found you so easily."

Had she? Christ, has she actually called to him in her sleep? What about the protection symbols? What about the protective pendant Ethan had given her? Her eyes fell to the pile of clothing on the floor, the amulet forgotten in her haste to get into the tub.

"They don't shield you."

Cady realized she hadn't mentioned them aloud and her fear ratcheted up another level. "Can you hear my thoughts?"

"Of course, we are one now."

"One?"

Her hands moved of their own accord, and Cady flinched from her own touch as they slid across her abdomen under the water. "I am joined with you, body and soul. Everything you feel, I feel. Everything you think, I know."

Cady fought with everything she had to regain control of her body, but it didn't even slow the slick exploration of her curves. A whimper escaped as her hand cupped the fullness of her own breast, fingers rolling and pinching the nipple until it pebbled and hardened.

"If you can hear what I'm thinking, you can tell that I don't want you in here with me, and I don't want you touching me like that."

"You're only afraid of what you don't understand." Her hands delved lower, fingers seeking. "Shhh, let me love you, Cady," his voice purred, thick with excitement as he probed deep.

"This isn't love, this is..." And then she had no voice as he took utter control of her body with strong, knowing fingers, stroking intimately in her most secret places. Nothing but the impotent scream inside her head as he used her for his own satisfaction. Cady heard her own voice gasp in enjoyment, lips parting on a sigh of rapture as he wrung the pleasure from her traitorous body.

A sensual counterpoint, his velvety voice murmured a string of endearments, riding the sexual energy higher and higher as he swept her along, his moans of pleasure curiously echoing her own until they reached the pinnacle of simultaneous release, sharing one body, one mind. Heart thudding madly, ecstasy mingled with dread as her body shook from the spasms again and again.

With instant access to what delighted her the most, he drew her to one shuddering peak after another, leaving her weak and ashamed. Because on some level, Cady knew she must crave his touch or she wouldn't have enjoyed it.

The water was cold now, but Cady had no control over getting out of the tub. She retreated to the far corner of her mind as fingers stroked lazily.

"I can't wait until I can feel you beneath me, taking you the way you deserve to be taken." His voice was dominant now, speaking aloud, relegating her to the shadows.

"Yes, that would be better," she agreed. Anything had to be better if only to get him out of her. It was too intimate, too invasive. Ethan would be back soon, and then maybe... would he know that Ash was inside of her?

"That's a good question, my love. Best we not be here when he returns." Her body stood, toweling off with loving care. "It's a shame to cover up your loveliness, but I can't have you walking around like this, no matter how beguiling a picture you make." Donning her discarded clothes, Ash scowled briefly at the sting from her pocket, drawing out the hematite pendant and flinging it aside with a hiss when it burned her fingers like a hot coal.

Cady caught her reflection in the small mirror over the sink, hair in a sultry tangle, eyes bright, cheeks rosy, practically glowing with satisfaction and contentment. It was the strangest feeling, looking out of her body, but not feeling present within it. If it showed even a hint of what was in her soul, she'd have the decency to weep.

Her hand froze at the door, unable to reach the doorknob from the spells that lay on the other side of the wall. "I'm not sure how we'll manage this," he admitted, testing the edges of the barrier. "I can't easily break through this."

"You could let me go." Even as she said it, she didn't expect him to, even if that left them trapped in the bathroom until Ethan came back.

"No, not until I know we can be together forever."

"I'll come to you again." There wasn't a need to hide her true thoughts on the matter, she would have gladly promised him anything if only he'd release her.

"It's not enough, not anymore. Now that I have you, I'll never let you go."

The thought chilled her, and Cady felt her heart lurch through the bond they shared. At least she still had the ability to influence something in her body, that had to mean something. "Listen to me," she tried again. "I don't want you inside of me, not like this. It's... invasive, degrading." She got the distinct impression he wasn't listening to her, despite sharing the same headspace, too intent on finding a way out of there. "Creepy as shit!"

"I understand, you want me to be a proper man to you."

"Yes, I would much rather have that."

"Alright, I have an idea."

Why did that not make her feel any better?

"Ah, that should do nicely." His gaze fell to the small window over the bathtub, prying it open. It wasn't large enough for a person to crawl through, at least it wasn't until he pulled back her hand and smashed it through the pane of glass on the other side, shattering it.

Cady felt no pain as her fist destroyed the window, though she could clearly see the split knuckles. "Sorry, my love, it will only last a moment," he assured her, catching up the discarded towel to press to her hand. True to his words, the wound healed after a few minutes, leaving only a trace of reddened skin. In that time, he managed to pick aside all the loose glass and brush it into the alley below. Without pausing a beat, he hoisted her up into the window, looking for the best handholds on the cracked brick façade.

"We'll fall and die." No sooner did the protest come than she welcomed it. What had she told Ethan? She'd rather be dead than his plaything. This definitely constituted being his plaything, more than she could have imagined.

"Shhh, trust in me, I won't let you come to any harm." Moving with confident strength and agility, he scaled the side of the building, drawing her up onto the roof with ease. Once there, he looked around, but there was no roof access to the stairwell.

"Please, just let me go. There's no way down," she tried again.

"There is always another way."

Her gaze fell to the neighboring rooftop, spotting what he needed. There was no way she'd make it over there, the building was easily fifteen feet away, but Cady made no protest. Instead, she was caught up in the flex of muscle as her body broke into a dead run. Raw power surged through her as she pushed away from the building, soaring through the air with impossible speed to land on her feet on the other side. The feeling of freedom... the power... it was...

"Indescribable, isn't it?" He swelled with pride. "I told you, I won't let you come to harm."

Cady watched in fascination as her slender, five foot five form easily bust through the locked door and gave them access to the stairwell below. No wonder he was able to resist Ethan so easily. What couldn't she do with that kind of power?

"What indeed," her own voice chuckled aloud.

Chapter Thirty-Two

It had been easy enough to find the place, the tiny bungalow tucked in between two larger craftsmans. The sight of the chimney gave him hope that he had the right place, but it was impossible to tell without any signs of movement inside. Ethan spent an extra twenty minutes watching the house from the cover of darkness, waiting for the last light on the neighboring street to go out. If he was about to surprise a family of four in the dead of night, he wanted to make sure he had a clean escape route planned.

This time he took not only the knives, but his 9mm and a snub nosed .38 tucked into the top of his boot, leaving nothing to chance. It wasn't the best plan to go in guns blazing, but he'd be damned if he let Q get away again. If he had to perform the binding ritual with the subject shot and bleeding, so be it.

Approaching with silent stealth, Ethan made a slow circuit around the house before he decided on a point of entry. All set to pick the lock on the rear door, a twist of the handle revealed it was unlocked, and he stepped inside, cautious of the sound the squeaky hinges made. Ethan waited a moment, and another, his heart pounding slow and steady, until he was absolutely certain the noise had no repercussions.

Gun held loosely at his side, he crept through the darkened house, a flare of recognition going through him as he spotted the old fashioned woodstove and window seat, just as Cady had described them, and the collection of matryoshka dolls on glass shelves tucked into the corner. He had the right place.

Moving faster now, he searched the small bedroom off of the living room and the bathroom before following the hall to the master bedroom. There on the bed lay his quarry. A man of his general size, blonde hair cut in a similar fashion. The rusty dagger drew out of its sheath without a sound, and Ethan gave silent thanks for the shag of brown carpet beneath his feet that masked his footfalls from the sleeping demon.

Blue eyes startled open as the knife went into Q's side, and Ethan quickly followed up with another, smaller dagger to the shoulder. They were small wounds, designed to incapacitate, not drain the subject, but the man on the bed thrashed, with no sign of paralysis.

Damn, this one was stronger than ever. How did he develop such a tolerance to rust? Ethan wondered, even as he brought the pistol down onto the demon's temple with a resounding crack. Q went still, arms flopping uselessly to the side and Ethan pressed his advantage, knowing it wouldn't take long for him to revive. Drawing the black dague, he clasped the demon's hand, preparing himself for the blinding pain as he drove the dagger into both of their hands.

Now came the difficult part.

Focusing the majority of his attention on the spell of binding, Ethan wrapped his free hand around the gun again, prepared to shoot him if he so much as reached for either dagger.

"Immundus spiritus, audite et scire timor. Hostis humani generis, vitae raptor, tu malorum radix vitiorum seductor hominum, proditor innocentes auctor invidia, avaritia, causa discordiae. Exorcizo te de cortice eius. Vis dimittere eum: et cognosco meas."

So far, so good. The demon showed no signs of stirring and Ethan plunged into the final stanza, the air around him prickling with energy as he recited the age old words.

"Alligo te in umbras ubi tu sollicitent non spiritum liberum sempitérna sæcula. Ubi constringo vos, ut non nocent. Alligo me ad unum caro unus est." The final words were charged with triumph as Ethan prepared for the tingle of power that accompanied the end of the spell and the white hot pain as he was branded with another demon.

It never came.

No flash of blinding light, no arc of energy, no rush of success.

The only sound in the room was his own labored breathing as he gazed down in puzzlement at the man bleeding beneath him.

"Shit, it wasn't him." That was the only explanation, Q wouldn't have been able to flee the body once the rusty dagger pierced his skin. For some reason, the demon had already fled to another body before he got there. It was rare for any demon to abandon a host without an imminent threat. What had happened to draw him out of the man?

Pulling the ceremonial dagger free, Ethan tucked it away and bound his hand absently, trying to decide on his next move. A groan from the man on the bed drew his attention, and he pulled the rusty daggers out, wincing over the rush of blood that welled in their absence. Grabbing up the sheet, he wound it tightly around the man's body, doing his best to stop the bleeding. A quick glance showed an old fashioned push-button phone on the nightstand, and Ethan dialed 911.

"There's a man down here, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and shoulder, send an ambulance," he reported succinctly, tossing the handset on the bed next to him. What the police would think about finding a man of his description in the house of a missing suspected felon was anyone's guess, but Ethan couldn't stick around to find out. He took the time to wipe down the phone, obscuring any fingerprints, doing the same on the rear door.

Less than two minutes later found him driving away in the white Jetta, obeying the crippling speed limit, his thoughts running a hundred miles an hour. Something had spooked the subject, that much was clear. It pissed him off to no end to have to start at square one again, especially when he'd been so close.

For a brief moment he considered calling it all in and asking the Company to bring in the diviner and a new reaper. It would likely mean a transfer for him, and possibly disciplinary action, but it might be worth it if it meant they'd finally catch the bastard. The longer he thought about it, the more sense it made. He'd do his best to keep Cady's name out of it, and as long as she followed his exact instructions, she'd be safe enough until it was done. Then later, he would contact her, see if she still wanted to be with him or if it was one of those heat of the moment things born of extreme circumstances.

Stopped for a red light, he sent her a quick text. Didn't get him, stay put. A few minutes later the phone beeped, and he glanced down to check her reply.

You suck.

Ethan snorted, taking the insult as playful. Nice. He jumped to another body. What was I supposed to do?

Nothing but excuses, typical for a loser. Admit it, he's better than you.

Easily splitting his attention between the phone and the road, he considered calling her to see what her game was. Instead he sent the simple response. The hell I will.

Smarter, stronger, sexier

Are you drunk? He sent playfully, knowing there was no alcohol in the apartment, but he had to wonder, she sounded a little strange.

No, I'm finally seeing things clearly. I've made my choice and it's not you.

Seeing things clearly? What are you talking about?

He's more of a man than you ever will be, and I want to be with him in EVERY way.

Dread settled over his heart as he read the text. That wasn't Cady, he was as sure of it as his own name. Who is this? He sent with trembling fingers.

Someone who knows what she really needs.

Ethan sped through the streets, pushing the Jetta as fast as it could go. The little car shuddered on the turns but got him there in one piece. Scarcely pausing long enough to throw the car into park, he raced up the stairs with a gun in hand and his heart in his throat.

Impossible. That's all that kept running through his mind over and over again. It was impossible for him to have gotten to Cady if she'd stayed put. Had she broken her promise to him? Half expecting to find another stand-off when he unlocked the door, Ethan burst into the room, gun drawn and chest heaving, only to find himself all alone. "Cady?" he called out into the stillness, as if she might magically appear from under the bed.

Methodically, he checked under the bed himself, and in the closet until he reached the bathroom where he found the broken out window. Shit... the bathroom. He'd forgotten to protect the bathroom. How could he be so stupid?

The bottom of the tub was wet, a damp towel lying in a sodden heap on the floor; he could guess what she'd been doing when the bastard came for her. "Goddamn it!" His fist lashed out, smashing the eight by ten mirror into a hundred pieces. How the hell had he gotten her out of there? The protections were still in place, he could feel them. How had he even found her with the talisman he'd given her?

The offending rock sat on the floor between the toilet and the bathtub and Ethan scooped it up. The protection spell was still active, and his bloodied hand closed around the stone, welcoming the stab of pain it brought. He needed to get her back. He needed a plan.

Shoving the pendant into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, retreating to the dubious shelter of the apartment. Instead of sending another text, he dialed the number, half expecting it to go to voicemail before Cady's voice came on the line, high and sweet.

"Cady here."

"Cady?"

"That's me."

"Are you alright?" It was hard to believe he'd let her on the phone, harder still to believe her light tone.

"I'm better than alright, I'm fantastic. The best I've ever been."

"Did you send me those texts before?"

"Of course, who else would?"

"What did you mean by them?"

"What do you think I meant, idiot? I don't want you anymore. I'm not even sure why I did in the first place. It's not like you ever came through between the sheets. I mean even if you couldn't get it up, you could have done other stuff to take care of my needs."

"What?" Ethan stared at the phone. What the hell was she talking about?

"He satisfies me in ways you never can." She made a sound, like a cat stretching in the noonday sun, and Ethan knew something was up.

"Cady... is this..." It was too awful to say it aloud, but he forced the words. "Is he in you right now?"

"Yes, and it feels wonderful," she purred, even as his stomach clenched in revulsion. He'd never once considered that Asherik might take her as his host, he'd never taken the form of his victims. Ethan was beyond using euphemisms for the demon's name any longer, it had become too personal.

"That sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" he asked the demon inside her. "It's a little hard for you to rape and torture when it's yourself, isn't it?"

"That just shows how little you understand me," she replied, her voice cold. "I force nothing that she doesn't want in the deepest part of her soul."

"Prove it, let me talk to Cady," he demanded. The line fell silent and Ethan thought he might have lost the connection, but then her voice reached his ears, trembling and uncertain.

"Ethan?"

"Cady!"

"Ethan, oh God, Ethan," her voice shook, the words tumbling out fast. "You have to come and get me, please!"

"Where are you?"

"I-I don't know exactly, it's a boat, but I couldn't see the name. I saw the St. Francis Yacht Club on the way in. I see... there's a boat next to us, it's called The Flying... That's enough." Her voice changed as the demon took control again and Ethan suppressed a growl of frustration.

"You heard her, she wants me to save her," he snarled. "She doesn't want to be with you."

"I'll be the one to show her what she wants."

It was surreal hearing those words in her own sweet voice, and it was all Ethan could do to calm down enough to say what needed to be said. "If you hurt her in any way. I will kill you, do you understand me?"

"Go ahead and try, it won't do you a lick of good," her voice rang with bravado. "We both know you won't hurt her to get to me."

"Cady, I know you can hear me in there, I will come for you," Ethan pledged.

"Come or don't come, I'm sure I can find all sorts of things to do to keep her satisfied until you get here."

The line went dead, and Ethan pressed the phone to the bridge of his nose hard enough to snap the case, tamping down the rage until he could think again. He knew what needed to be done, but could he actually do it? Any way it went down, he couldn't see Cady surviving the ordeal. Forget calling the Company for reinforcements now; if he did that he'd have no options at all. There had to be a way for her to walk out of this alive and free of that fucker.

He needed a plan. He needed it badly.

Chapter Thirty-Three

"He'll come for me. He'll come for me. He'll come for me." Cady clung to the steady litany in the cage of her mind, the better to divorce herself from the demon's actions while he commanded her body.

"Shhh, it'll all be over soon enough." His voice spoke in her mind and Cady drew herself into a tighter ball, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

"He'll come for me."

"That's exactly what I'm counting on."

Something in the way he said the words made her sit up and take notice. "What are you planning?"

"All in good time. I must say, your reaper does not disappoint. He's watching us now if I'm not mistaken."

"Ethan is here?" Cady tried to see what he was seeing, but all she spotted was the string of boats tied to the pier.

"I imagine it'll take him some time to work himself up to approaching, but yes, he's out there alright."

As much as her heart thrilled to know he'd found her, Cady had to wonder. Why was Ash sitting there, waiting for Ethan to arrive? They were on a boat after all, it would be easy as pie to get away. "You're not going to run?"

"Why should I, when I worked so hard to get him here in the first place?"

* * *

Ethan spotted her easily enough. The long red hair was a dead giveaway, and for whatever reason he hadn't bothered to close any of the curtains in the cabin. The boat was a large one, more of a luxury yacht, with two visible levels above the main deck. The lights blazed inside, illuminating the sumptuous interior clearly. Besides Cady, the yacht appeared to be deserted, no crew in sight.

She paced back and forth in front of the windows, a slender champagne flute in hand, occasionally pausing to bring it to her lips, staring out into the night. It would be light soon and for some reason, Ethan felt like he had to approach under the cover of darkness. There was nothing but superstition to it, but he couldn't help but feel like if the new day dawned, he might lose her forever.

Light on his feet, he left his vantage point from behind a tall sailboat dubbed The Immaculata, creeping closer until he reached the shadows near the hull. Grasping the nylon rope tethering the bow to the dock, Ethan climbed hand over hand, careful not to bump against the fiberglass for fear of giving away his position. Without a sound, he hoisted himself up and over the side, landing in a crouch.

Cady stood on the deck, watching his efforts intently. The marine breeze caught at her hair, but she gave no sign that the chill bothered her in the brief shorts and tank top. "Very impressive, you always were athletic." A faint smile curved her lips as she extended a crystal flute to him. "Champagne?"

"No, thank you." Ethan turned down the offer, gaining his feet cautiously. Having lost the advantage of stealth, he faltered somewhat, hand hovering over the dagger, but not drawing it just yet. "I told you I'd find you."

"So you did. I admit, I thought it would take you a little longer to accomplish it," she smiled, draining the flute and tossing it over the side. "Well then, shall we begin?"

"Begin what?" His eyes narrowed, circling warily. Was that supposed to be a signal to someone else hidden on the boat?

"What you've come to do." Her hands spread wide, taking a step in his direction. "To bind me, of course."

Thrown off balance by the invitation, Ethan took a step to the side, continuing to circle. What was the bastard up to now? "You want me to bind you now?"

"Of course not, but we won't get anywhere until we get this part out of the way, will we? Go ahead, do your worst. I won't fight you." Her lips parted in an inviting smile, but Ethan had to remind himself that it wasn't Cady looking out at him from behind those brown eyes, it was the monster. He had to do it, he had no choice.

Forgive me, he whispered in the stillness of his mind, drawing the rusty dagger and plunging it into her side.

Her body went rigid, a sickly smile frozen on her lips. "You know... she'll die..." she bit out.

"I'm sorry, Cady." His voice was heavy with sorrow for the girl trapped inside the frozen shell. The girl he loved. Gently lowering her to the deck, he brushed the hair back from her brow, tucking it behind her ear. "This is the way it has to be." Ethan plunged the second rusty dagger into her shoulder with enough force to pin her to the polished wood.

Cady cried out, eyes wide with pain. "What do you mean I'll die? Can't you just get it out of me?"

Ethan stared down at the transformation, the pure panic in her eyes leaving no doubt in his mind that it was his Cady whimpering in his arms. The demon had to be trapped inside her, letting her bear the brunt of the pain, the rusty dagger would prevent him from fleeing the host now. "I'm sorry... but the ritual will kill the host. It's the only way."

"You could have... mentioned that... before." Her words came between pain filled gasps, chest heaving with the effort to speak.

"I didn't want you to think of me as a cold hearted killer, just like him."

"You're nothing like him."

Ethan saw acceptance in her eyes, and it killed him, knowing he was the cause of so much suffering. No, not him, Asherik; it was his fault. "It's a little cowardly, isn't it? Making her take the pain." He addressed the demon inside of her, still unable to guess at his endgame.

"She's the one... you're killing," he spoke from her lips, the words stilted, but dispassionate. "I thought... you might... like to say goodbye."

Goodbye? What kind of sick pleasure was he getting out of dragging this out? Ethan pulled the dague from its sheath, breathing hard as he reached for her slender hand.

"Just do it." Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes as Cady nodded in encouragement. "Do it. You know you have to."

Ethan knew his duty, there was no other way. He wouldn't say goodbye, the farewell wouldn't come, but something else needed to be said. "I love you, Cady." His own tears mingled with hers as the bittersweet words were spoken.

"I know," she smiled up at him through the tears. "Come what may."

The black dagger flashed in the pale moonlight, and Ethan shut himself away from her scream of pain as he stabbed them both through the hand. "Immundus spiritus, audite et scire timor," he chanted through clenched teeth, beginning the ritual. "Hostis humani generis, vitae raptor..." The demon made no move to fight him, no effort to remove the poisonous daggers. "Tu malorum radix vitiorum seductor hominum..."

He was doing it, soon Asherik would be bound and Cady would lie dead in his arms. "Proditor innocentes auctor invidia..." The words faltered, and Ethan forced himself to go on. "Avaritia, causa discordiae. Exorcizo te..."

"Love you..." The words came from stilted lips, the light already starting to fade from her eyes.

"Exorcizo te..." Ethan wavered, the ritual growing harder to perform. "De cortice... cortice... Shit..." He fell back, eyes squeezing tightly shut. "I can't... I can't do it." He tore free the black blade that bound their hands together, slumping beside her in defeat. Cady gave no reaction, her eyes still wide and staring. Had he waited too long? Cradling her head, he pulled the rusty dagger from her shoulder, never so glad to see demon flesh knit together swiftly.

"Cady?" he said gently, brushing the hair behind her ears, but she didn't respond. There was still one rusty dagger protruding from her side, but he didn't remove it yet; he wanted these final moments with her before his failure was complete. "Can you hear me?"

The bastard squatting inside her didn't give him that peace though, she remained locked away from him. Ethan held her as the sun came up, their blood mingling to stain the expensive teak deck.

"I know what you're thinking," she said at long length.

"What's that?" Ethan replied, not knowing which of them spoke.

"You're thinking you would give anything right about now for me to leave her in peace."

"You're not wrong."

"I'll go willingly for something in exchange."

"Name it," he said flatly, no longer caring what the bargain cost him. He could no longer do his job, and he didn't want to live in a world where Asherik dangled Cady like a puppet on a string.

"I'll leave her if you accept me."

He knew instantly it was the only reason why it had been so easy to find them. Asherik had lured him there for one thing alone – the chance at a new host body. Stronger than any human, he'd be more powerful than ever.

"I want to talk to her."

"Don't do this," she begged, her expressive face leaving no doubt she'd come back to him. "Ethan, you have to complete the binding ritual, it's the only way."

Ethan took long seconds to enjoy the sweet curves of her face, gazing up at him, so full of love. "I'm sorry, I know this is the coward's way out, but I can't do it. I can't kill you."

"Ethan, he'll have me anyway if he takes your body. He'll have both of us." Her hand reached for him, shaking like a leaf on the wind, and he grabbed it, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"Contact Rikard. You'll find his information in my laptop, the password is Samson. Tell them to bring the diviner and another reaper."

"No..."

"Hell, tell them to bring two reapers," he snorted. "When he leaves your body I want you to run, get as far away as you can because he'll know everything I do."

"I won't leave you," she shook her head.

"It's the only way." His head dipped to taste her lips one last time before he pulled out the other rusty dagger. "I accept you, Asherik."

Cady stretched, taking in a full breath with a sigh of relief. "I won't leave her until she's fully healed."

"Thank you for that," Ethan said dully. It would give her a fighting chance to get away, it was all he could hope for.

"No, thank you." Her lips curved in satisfaction.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Triumph.

Asherik was so close to having everything he wanted, he could taste it. Though he could sense no deceit from the reaper, he watched him carefully for signs of treachery, finding only defeat.

"Don't do this," she pleaded with him, and he answered in her mind.

"It's already done."

"I won't love you, even if you steal his body."

"In time all things are possible. You and I will be together for a very long time."

***

Asherik left her body in an exhalation that went on impossibly long, until she felt like her insides had all been expelled. But as she sucked in a greedy breath, Cady tasted freedom. Her senses restored, she tested her limbs, finding incredible relief in the control of her own body.

Ethan had said to run, but she couldn't leave, not now. There was too much at stake. Even as she looked down in wonder to see the smooth, unblemished skin beneath the sticky blood, she spotted the rusted dagger lying beside her and a rough plan came to mind.

"Asherik? Are you in there?" she asked, looking deep into Ethan's blue eyes, still clouded in confusion.

"I'm here," he smiled, hands opening and closing as he flexed within his new host. "I knew you wouldn't flee, I knew you'd stay by my side," he beamed.

"Yes, you know me," she smiled, leaning close. "You know I'd never leave the man I love." Her lips brushed against his, and as his eyes drifted shut, she slid the knife between his ribs. Moving fast, she groped around for the other rusty dagger, plunging it into his abdomen before he could do more than groan in pain.

"Ethan, I know you can hear me in there," she cried, the black ritual knife skittering away from her scrabbling fingers in her haste to grasp it. "I know you can still think and speak... you have to fight him!"

"Why...?" spilled from his lips, and she knew it was Asherik, not Ethan who asked the question.

"Because I love him, you dumbshit, and I'll be damned if I let you have him too." Her hand closed around the bloody hilt, and she drove it into his tattooed palm. "Say it, say the binding ritual now!"

Cady had no idea if it would actually work. If Ethan could repeat the binding ritual inside his head or if the words needed to be spoken aloud, but it was all she could think to try. If nothing happened... then she'd have to think about calling the Company like he suggested, but she had to try.

Ethan's mouth worked, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth as he struggled. His free hand came up and she stepped on it with her knee, leaning her full weight on him to keep him from reaching for any of the daggers. If she couldn't buy him enough time to get the ritual completed, it was all for nothing.

He was so goddamn strong, she felt him start to pull free of her hold, and Cady shifted to shove at the knife protruding from his side, driving it a fraction deeper. Ethan howled in response, but something very like fear shone from his eyes, and she held tight to the dagger, tearing a larger wound into his flesh.

His lips moved, soundless, but steady, and Cady strained to hear what he had to say. "Alligo te in umbras ubi tu sollicitent non spiritum liberum sempitérna sæcula." The words grew louder, more distinct. "Ubi constringo vos, ut non nocent. Alligo me ad unum caro unus est."

At the final syllable, his body stiffened in an arc of pain, and she felt the air crackling around them, charged with energy that pebbled her skin in gooseflesh. An inhuman scream left his lips, piercing the early morning calm and sending a flock of seagulls into frenzied flight. The cry cut off so abruptly, her ears still rang with the sound, the absence of noise eerie in the resulting stillness.

Tasting the bright tang of her own blood where she'd bitten the inside of her cheek, Cady swallowed, moistening her lips. "Ethan?"

"Present," he murmured weakly, fingers twitching around the obsidian dagger in what might have been a wave.

Cady hesitated before pulling the knife free. "How do I know it's you?"

"Should be new tattoo... somewhere," he replied, his voice thick with pain. "Give me minute... catch my breath. I'll take a look."

Cady knelt by his side, lifting the bottom of his shirt cautiously, but it was hard to see much with two knives sticking out of his torso. Careful not to cause any more damage to his torn flesh, she grabbed the edges of the fabric and ripped, exposing most of his chest to the chilly, morning air.

It was easy to spot, the new tattoo lay directly over his heart, the symbol faintly resembling a highly stylized dragon, coiled in slumber. "It's there." She breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the dagger out of his hand, but keeping it at the ready if anything seemed off about him. The other two knives followed suit, and she immediately saw the relief in his face when she pulled the rusty blades free.

The blood gushed from the wounds faster than she liked, especially the one she'd laid into extra hard, and Cady scrambled to put pressure on them, using the torn remnants of his shirt for bandages. Ethan lay there unmoving, letting her fuss over him with little more than a groan when she pressed the cloth to the wounds.

"I hate to say it, but I think you really do need a doctor this time," she frowned over the bloody mess.

"I think there are still some traces of rust in there, but I'll be fine." His voice did sound a lot stronger already, and there was more color in his cheeks.

"Of course you will," Cady smiled down at him when his hand covered hers. "A little duct tape, some tea, you'll be good as new."

* * *

It took them the better part of an hour to get back to the safe house. The car wasn't parked too far away, but with all the blood he'd lost, Ethan leaned heavily on her the entire way. Luckily, there weren't too many people out and about yet, apart from a few fishermen or the odd jogger, no one gave them a second glance.

"Looks like you're going to need a new car again," Cady winced at the bloodstains he left behind once they got back to the Tenderloin district.

"I told you, I'm not all that personally invested in possessions. It's just certain people I'm attached to," he smiled back, bone tired.

"Yeah well, the next time you pick a safe house, you might want to choose one on the ground floor. It's going to take us a year to climb all of these stairs."

Ethan managed them though, forcing one step in front of another until he stumbled across the threshold, tumbling onto the bed with a weary groan. Grateful for the first aid supplies she'd stocked up on, Ethan laid back while she bathed his wounds with the healing tea. Cady patched him up expertly, clucking over the fact that the wound on his hand was already nearly healed (one of the properties of the tattoo, he explained).

What a relief it was to let her undress him down to his boxer briefs, much as she had that first night, only this time he was conscious enough to help a bit. It didn't seem real, these mundane actions, being undressed by a beautiful woman and tucked into bed, and Ethan had the sense of it all being a dream.

If it was only a dream, he never wanted to wake up as she quickly stripped down to a tank top and panties, joining him under the covers. The danger quickly faded from the forefront of his mind, so did the memory of the pain until he reached for her and his side pulled painfully. Some things would have to wait for at least another day.

All tucked in, she turned off the bedside lamp only to have him click it back on, grabbing for his cell phone.

"I have to make a call before I can rest."

"At this hour? Not even the donut shop's open for business yet."

"Trust me, they'll be open." The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile, dialing the number by memory. "Shaw," he said succinctly, waiting through a series of clicks as he was transferred, holding a finger to his lips in warning as the feminine voice came on the line.

"Identify."

"Shaw, sector twelve, number six five six zero nine."

"Acknowledged, Shaw, sector twelve, number six five six zero nine," she replied. "Report."

"Subject Q is bound. I repeat, Subject Q is bound." It was hard not to smile wide as he said the words, especially when Cady gave him a double thumbs up sign.

"Acknowledged, Subject Q is bound," she replied, the highest accolade he would receive. "Casualties?"

"Minimal." Though he knew Cady would disagree on that count.

"Any complications?"

His gaze fell to the girl on the bed beside him. "No, ma'am, nothing I can't handle. I'll have my final report uploaded by the week's end."

There was silence on the line, but Ethan wisely held his tongue. "Acknowledged, Agent Shaw. Stand by for offloading schedule. Standard protocols apply."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ethan hung up, not having to wait more than two minutes before he received a text, with a date, time and street address. He quickly committed them to memory and deleted the message before turning to face her. "Now, I'm all yours," he sighed, smiling as Cady snuggled up to his side.

"I like the sound of that." She matched his sigh with a dreamy puff of air against the side of his neck and he curled his arm around her. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," he murmured, already drifting as the need to hold tight to consciousness slipped away.

Chapter Thirty-Five

There were a few trust issues to work out between them at first. Cady could admit to tensing a few times when he touched her, a tiny corner of her mind still wondering if Asherik lurked behind those blue eyes. Especially when he did something impossibly romantic (or borderline creepy if taken the wrong way), like filling her bedroom with flowers while she slept.

Cady fretted over every slight change in behavior before she came to understand that it was a different side he was showing her. A lighter side, one he'd forgotten existed. In the days that followed, with no threat of doom and gloom, Ethan smiled more, brooded less. There were fewer lectures on safety and danger, except where he made her take precautions before coming to see him.

It was agreed that they would keep their relationship a secret from her friends and family, in order to keep from explaining his involvement with the police. David Brown faded into obscurity and Barry Wilson rented an apartment in a renovated loft in the Mission District. Cady settled back into her old life, moving back home with Ian, who watched her like a hawk at first, especially when she refused to tell him what happened while she was away.

The police were less patient with her, Detective Lucas detaining her for questioning not long after she got home. Her boss, Dylan, had been charged with murder after being found in a dead hooker's apartment, jibbering away insanely about the voices in his head. They'd found the blonde haired, blue eyed man in Dylan's house who resembled Ethan so closely, nearly dead from blood loss. He also spoke about hearing voices when he regained consciousness and it was decided that the pair was in on it together before Dylan cracked and tried to kill his partner.

Cady answered every question as closely to the truth as possible, but gave them very little information in the end. Yes, she was attacked by Dylan the night she ran away from home. No, she hadn't met the blonde man before, but he certainly did look like her ex-boyfriend, David. No, she didn't know where David was. After two hours of going around and around without breaking, Lucas let her go with a shake of the head.

For a day or two, Cady looked over her shoulder every time she was out in public. She stayed away from Ethan at first, content with a few late night phone calls while Ian was at work, convinced the police were keeping tabs on her. Not that she shared those fears with Ethan; he had enough to deal with on his own.

Writing up his report had taken up the better part of the week as he agonized over how much of her involvement to include. In the end he'd mentioned her as little as possible, completely omitting her role in the confrontation on the boat or the fact that he'd invited the demon to possess him.

Besides the report, there were other things to consider, the police manhunt being one of them. But after a few contacts, Ethan assured her it would all be taken care of. Detective Lucas would receive a visit from a very convincing government official, advising that he'd stumbled upon an ongoing federal investigation. Any search for David Brown or any of his aliases would be discouraged.

In the wake of Dylan's arrest, Spanky's was closed indefinitely, and she and Kelli were forced to find new employment. Kelli promptly got a job at La Colmena waiting tables, but Cady decided to hold out for something better. Crafting a resume that was mostly smoke and mirrors, she applied for every entry level office job she could find.

Wearing her most capable looking pencil skirt and vintage blouse, Cady fidgeted through four interviews, only to be told that she lacked the requisite experience. Until the fifth interview, when she struck paydirt with an insurance company looking for a new receptionist.

Cady rushed over to Ethan's place, as quickly as she could manage (over the convoluted route she took, just in case), eager to share the good news.

"Guess what?" she asked, after delivering an exuberant kiss.

"I can't begin to imagine," he grinned over her enthusiastic greeting.

"I got a job today." Cady waited for his excitement level to hitch up a notch, but he merely locked the door behind them.

"Did you?"

"Yep, at Pacific Surety. Isn't that cool? A real job for once, with benefits and everything."

"That's nice."

"Nice? It's better than nice, it's fantastic." She followed him into the kitchen, frustrated when he didn't give her the props she deserved for landing such a coup. "Maybe you don't remember what it's like to look for a job since you've been working for the Company since birth, but any job that doesn't involve hooker heels or a hairnet is a pretty major deal."

"You're right, it is a big deal," he acknowledged, bending into the fridge. "Congratulations." He pulled out a small cake, chocolate with fresh strawberries, her favorite.

"What's this?" she blinked in surprise.

"To celebrate your new job."

"How did you know we'd be celebrating?"

"I might have had reason to believe you'd have some good news today." A half shrug was given.

"You knew already, didn't you?" Cady smacked him across the abs. Ethan didn't so much as flinch, but she felt better for doing it all the same. "How did you know?"

"I happen to have a contact at Pacific Surety and I put in a call for you."

"A call. As in... hire this girl or I'll burn your house down, kind of call?"

"I wouldn't quite put it like that, but essentially, yes."

"Then they weren't dazzled by my interviewing skills, were they?" Cady slumped against the counter, some of the wind going out of her sails. What had she expected? She had little to no experience as a receptionist, and not much more than her high school diploma to recommend her.

"You don't mind do you?" Ethan approached her cautiously, hands going to her waist to pull her gently closer. "You would have gotten something sooner or later. I just wanted to help you find it sooner."

She wasn't mad exactly, it just took some of the shine off her accomplishment. But who was she to question a good break when it came? "Mind? Why the hell should I mind? I'll take all the help I can get." Cady smiled up at him, arms finding their way up to his shoulders. "Thanks for looking out for me."

The heels gave her the added height she needed to kiss him without going up on her tiptoes, but she leaned into it all the same, her body molding to his. On and on the kiss went, taking on a life of its own, driving them both a little insane with want. Ethan lifted Cady onto the kitchen counter, hitching her skirt up high to gain better access but the narrow design defeated him. With a growl, he tore the fabric along the seam, hands skimming over bare flesh in triumph. A gasp slipped past her lips as the cold, granite countertop pressed against her heated skin, but it was quickly swallowed by his questing mouth. Her legs parted to accept him, wrapping around his waist to pull him closer as their mouths clashed together, breath mingling, tongues sliding.

After weeks of interruptions and near misses, they had yet to take things to the next level in their relationship. Despite the words of love on the yacht, Cady had started to think she would have to tie him up to get him to stay put long enough to finish what he started if it went on too much longer.

Ethan displayed no such hesitation now. His hands explored her curves, tugging her blouse free of the restrictive skirt to slip underneath and Cady followed suit, pulling his t-shirt up, breaking contact with his mouth only long enough to tug it over his head. Everything about him was hard and ready, from the perfect play of muscles along his back to the part of him that nudged closer to her core, causing ripples of exquisite friction when he pressed against her.

Sure fingers slid over her fevered skin, until they fisted in the loose fabric of her blouse, and he tore his mouth from hers. "Don't you want some cake?" he said tightly, and she could feel the coiled restraint in him, discipline cutting through the haze of pleasure.

"Cake later. For now, let's celebrate."

Her encouragement was all he needed. His eyes never leaving hers, Ethan slipped his hands under her ass, easily lifting her from the kitchen counter to carry her toward the bedroom. Cady wrapped her legs tighter, loving the groan that escaped his lips at the simple shift.

A knock at the door froze Ethan in his tracks and Cady bit down on her lip to keep from crying out in frustration. What the hell was it now?

"Stay here," he ordered, setting her on unsteady feet before she could object. Cady tugged her skirt down, noting that the slit down the side of her leg could be repaired without too much work, and the effect might even be pleasing if the ragged threads were trimmed away.

Ethan reappeared seconds later tugging on his shirt, his face grim. "Get into the closet," he whispered, shoving the cake back into the fridge, but Cady didn't budge an inch.

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. It's either in the closet or out the window."

"I'll take the window," she scowled, tucking her blouse back into the skirt. Her tidy updo was hopelessly mussed, so she pulled out the tortoise shell barrette, shaking her hair free.

"I'm not kidding, Cady. Get in the closet, it's Rikard."

"This is stupid," she hissed. "You're allowed to have a girlfriend."

"I'm really not."

"Fine, tell him I'm your landlady, here to collect the rent. I'm not going in the closet again." Cady strode to the door, throwing it open before he could stop her. The curly haired man she'd seen in Ethan's apartment before stood in the hall, dressed in a runner's get up with shiny shorts and a sleeveless T. "Oh, hello," she smiled blandly. "Excuse me, won't you?"

"Of course." Rikard swallowed the surprised look in a flash, stepping aside for her to pass.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson. I'll see you at the beginning of next month." With a polite smile to both men, she left without another word, walking as calmly as she could for the elevator. Ethan had insisted on the top floor again, claiming it offered more escape options. There was an advantage to his new apartment building though – there was an internet café on the ground floor, and she headed for it now, intending to wait for his friend to leave so they could finish celebrating.

Tucked into a green armchair with her mocha, Cady scrolled through her Facebook feed on the spiffy new phone Ethan had bought her when she heard the name Rikard announced by the barista. She looked up to see the man watching her intently from the counter, reaching for his coffee without breaking his gaze.

Cady looked away, focusing on her phone, all the while trying to sense his movement through her peripheral vision. She scored a great big fail in that effort, when he dropped onto the seat opposite her.

"So, you're Barry's landlady."

"Ah, yes. Well, not exactly. My dad is the building manager, but I run collections for him most of the time. He manages seven of them, you know," she lied glibly.

"No, I didn't know. Busy fella, your father."

"Yep, work hard, play hard, that's my dad. Me, I enjoy a break now and then." She held up her coffee to take a sip, pleased to note it didn't shake the least bit. "You're a friend of Barry's?"

"Oh yeah, Barry and I go way back. Started out in the business together, you might say."

"As a marketing consultant?" She knew that was Ethan's new cover job, she'd helped him fill out the apartment application.

"That's right." His smile didn't falter. "It's a very competitive field. You've got to be a real killer to get anywhere."

"I'll bet." Her eyes were drawn to the tattoo coiled around his bicep. Not quite like Ethan's, but it reminded her of one of his demon tattoos, only resembling a fat lizard more than anything else. When she glanced up at his face again, he was watching her intently, and she hid half her face behind the coffee cup, taking a deep gulp. "Well, I'd better get back to it. Dad likes me to get to the bank before quitting time and I still have to make a couple of stops."

"Can I give you a lift anywhere?"

"Oh no, I'm good, thanks. It was nice meeting you, Mister..."

"Smythe." He offered a hand, pulling her closer once she accepted it, nearly throwing her off balance. Was he smelling her? Cady was about to pitch a fit when he let go of her hand and took a step back. "That's a very pretty necklace. Where did you get it?"

She's almost forgotten about the pendant; Ethan had replaced the tiny weapon in the bow and arrow design. Her fingers found it now, tracing over the cool metal. "Oh, this thing? I found it in a pawn shop over on Castro. It's pretty cool, isn't it? It sorta reminds me of that pin from the movie where they're all fighting to the death."

"Interesting connotation," he murmured. "I won't keep you, Miss..."

"Garrett," she replied, not having time to think of an adequate lie. Besides, he didn't know her first name. "Nice to meet you Mr. Smythe. You have a great day now." With a bright smile, Cady scooted past him, well aware of her raggedy hem but grateful she could take longer strides as she got the hell out of there.

There was something creepy about that guy, and she didn't go back upstairs as she originally intended in case he was watching her. Instead she walked to the apartment building two blocks down, climbing the stairs to the top floor and pacing there, as if she really was knocking on doors asking for the rent, to give herself time to think.

Where are you? The text came from Ethan, seconds later.

Loitering in a building down the street. Should I come over?

Unless you want me to eat all of your cake by myself.

Is everything okay? Cady sent, unable to shake the uneasy feeling she got from talking to Rikard.

It's fine.

Of course it was fine. The man could be bleeding out his eyeballs and he'd say it was fine. Still, she headed back to his apartment building, wary, but there was no sign of Rikard or anyone else giving her a second look.

Knocking on the door, she mustered the most serious expression she could manage when he answered it. "Hello, Mr. Wilson. There seems to be a problem with your rent check."

Ethan leaned against the doorframe, the corner of his mouth tucked up in amusement. "Oh? What would that be?"

"You didn't give one to me."

"Well, maybe you'd better come in and we can discuss it further." He waggled his eyebrows playfully and she placed the flat of her hand on his chest, arching a single brow of her own.

"Mr. Wilson, are you suggesting something untoward?"

"I'm suggesting you get your ass inside here before I grope you in the hallway," he grinned, blue eyes flashing.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to do anything to get you into trouble," she teased. "Would you like me to come back later?"

"No, thank you," he said politely, even as he reached for her. "Something tells me you're worth the risk."

Feedback is Love,

If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review today!

Read on for a special preview of Lisa Olsen's novel, Pretty Witches All in a Row, available now!

Books by Lisa Olsen:

The Touch

Pretty Witches All in a Row

Moonsong

Nine Steps to Sara

The Company:

The Company of Shadows

The Company of Darkness (March 2014)

The Fallen:

Angel of Mercy

Mercy for the Wicked

Mercy for the Damned

Child of Mercy

Mercy for the Fallen

Forged Bloodlines:

Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down

Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down

Find Me When the Sun Goes Down

Miss Me When the Sun Goes Down

Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down

Hear Me When the Sun Goes Down

For more information, visit the author's website at http://www.lisaolsen.net

Pretty Witches All in a Row

Chapter One

Prin lumina acestei lumânări

Conjur puterile întunericului

The words reverberated through her mind, indistinct; she couldn't quite place the language or make out the intent. The air grew oppressively hot, the scent of bitter herbs permeating the room. Her breathing came in shallow gasps as an unreasoning panic seized her limbs. She was in grave danger...

Să îmi dea puterea

Să îmi recapăt tinereţea şi să îmi dea viaţă de-a pururi

Suddenly there was no air, no breath, no light; only a terrible sinking sensation, as though she was being sucked into a black hole. A terrified scream ripped through her, drawing her out of the void, even as the final words hovered in the air.

Aşa cum am spus aşa sa fie...

Annaliese clutched at the twisted bed sheets, chest heaving as she sucked in a greedy breath. Her entire body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, heart beating like a jackhammer as she grew more aware of her surroundings. All a dream...

Already the words began to fade, the edges of the dream becoming blurry and indistinct. All too happy to let it fade away, she let go of the sheets fisted in her hands, willing herself to take slow, calming breaths. "Just a dream," she murmured shakily. Drawing comfort from that mantra, Anna repeated it to herself again and again.

Just a dream.

Normally a nightmare kept its hold on her for quite some time, trying to reassert itself into the next dream. Trying to avoid that particular circumstance, she reached over to turn on the clock radio by her bedside, cheeks puffing out as she exhaled again, arm crossing over her eyes. The dream receded quickly, abnormally so; but she didn't question it, letting the fatigue catch hold of her. Scant moments later, Anna slipped back into a peaceful sleep, untroubled by dark dreams.

* * *

The sun had been up for an hour or more by the time he got the call. Already on his way into the office, Detective Nicholas Gibson pulled over, needing to punch the address into his dash mounted GPS device. The dead ends and one way streets in the Portland Metro area constantly gave him a headache, making the little device more than worth its weight in gold.

Well within the morning commute, Nick briefly considered flashing his lights to get there a little quicker, but he didn't like to abuse that power. Eh... who was he kidding... he loved to abuse that power. Still, the dead body waiting for him wasn't likely to get any deader, and the Crime Scene Unit was already on the scene working their magic. In fact, the longer he waited, the more information his team would gather by the time he got there. By comparison to his old commute in L.A., the drive across town was practically the speedway at Irwindale. As he puttered along on 26th, managing a respectable twenty miles per hour, his fingers tapped along the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

The road grew less congested as he pulled off the main road, the side streets still sleepy in the early morning. At every turn, the plucky little GPS directed him with great cheer, until he came upon the crime scene, the narrow street clogged with emergency vehicles of every shape and size. Plenty of onlookers dressed in robes and slippers tested the patience of the uniformed officers on site, all eager to see what was going on.

Nick sighed as the little duplex came into sight, still steaming and smoking in the morning air. He hated fires. Not only would his shoes get all wet and ashy, he'd be lucky if he could get the smoky smell out of his suit without another trip to the dry cleaners. That and it was usually none too pleasant a crime scene to come upon. Physical evidence ended up contaminated in all manner of ways, from the water damage and the number of people tromping in and out before the CSU arrived. At least he hadn't had breakfast yet.

Double parking, Sergeant Gibson stepped out of the car, giving his most charming smile when spectator eyes swung in his direction. At six foot one and a half, with brown hair and eyes, ruggedly handsome with more smile lines that worry wrinkles, Nick frequently found himself the object of female interest. At least where the suburban housewife set was concerned. Too bad the interest frequently cooled once they became acquainted with the reality of what he did for a living. It might seem glamorous or exciting to be a police detective on TV, but it often translated to long hours and a lot of missed dates. Not many women had that kind of patience, he'd found.

Wearing his favorite navy blue pinstripe suit, he felt a little overdressed for the crowd of onlookers, but he didn't intend to linger with them for very long. With a quick wink at a bottle blonde in a tight fitting jogging get up, he crossed the police tape, hastening his step as he dodged firemen closing up shop and preparing to clear out.

The duplex was a bungalow style house, converted some time ago to get two living units out of it. The entire structure was smaller than his own two thousand square foot home by about a third, and he estimated each unit had about seven hundred square feet of living space. The weathered siding had at one time been painted white with red trim, but had grayed with age, browner towards the bottom where overgrown shrubs lined the perimeter and a sooty grey at the top near the roof. The concrete steps, painted red to match the trim, were scuffed and faded, the paint flaking away at every corner. A brightly colored welcome mat in the shape of a sunflower sat in front of the door. Wind chimes made from seashells hung over the door, hastily shoved aside, probably by the fire guys.

Not exactly the Ritz, but someone had put forth an effort to make the place a home.

As he stepped over the threshold, Nick spotted his team standing by an interior door, speaking in hushed tones. Detectives Brady and Park were seasoned enough to know what to look for without him having to babysit them, while young enough to keep that eager edge despite all the drudgery they had to slog through. Better them than him, he'd already put in his time running down dead end leads in his day, Nick was content to let the younger pups have at it.

Michelle Park, primly dressed in a navy blue, conservative woman's suit, stood with perfect posture, black hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Of Asian descent, Nick found her attractive in an understated way, but completely lacking in any flirtatious or playful manner, despite his best efforts to engage her. She looked more like an investment banker or an assistant principal than a detective, but Gibson had come to appreciate her dry wit and sharp observation skills.

Her counterpart Kip Brady waited to her left, impeccably dressed in a dapper charcoal gray suit that Nick guessed was worth at least a week's paycheck, his shoes buffed to a high shine. With close cropped dark hair and blue eyes, he easily fit the bill of everyone's buddy, a trait that served him well in his years on the force. A little short in stature, Brady had none of the 'short man's complex' that plagued so many of his height. Witty and affable, Nick could always count on him for a clever quip. The pair of them tried Park's patience to no end sometimes, of that he was sure, but overall they made a good team.

Brady looked up with a reverse nod and waved him over. Gibson gave a little mock salute to a couple of EMT's lounging by the kitchen entrance and slid past them. The doorway led to a small bedroom, the epicenter of the fire with its blackened walls and waterlogged carpet. "Hey guys, did you bring the marshmallows? I'm fresh out."

"That's probably for the best, I think you're probably gonna lose that sugar jones as soon as you take a look." Detective Brady gave him an amused smirk and Park stepped aside so he could stick his head into the bedroom, swiftly taking in the extent of the damage. Even with the charring, it was easy to see the room hadn't been filled with expensive furnishings. There were puddles of wax on every surface indicating an overabundance of candles once resided there, along with an interesting array of candle holders made of glass, resin and stone. A hanging contraption made of brass hung suspended from the ceiling, about the size of a small apple, riddled with little holes. Maybe some kind of incense holder? He hadn't seen anything like it since his days as an altar boy.

It wasn't long before his eyes were drawn to the badly burnt corpse lying on what was left of the bed. "Eewh, crispy..." he muttered, ducking back out. "So... are we thinking arson?" His brow furrowed, it wasn't often he was called to a fire; in fact, he could count them on one hand over the span of his ten year career in law enforcement.

"No sir, the initial report from the Fire Marshall indicates it was started by untended candles," Park supplied politely and Nick gave a long suffering sigh. No matter how many times he'd asked her, Park hadn't lost the need to call him sir yet, but he was still working on softening her up.

"So, tell me again why we're here?" His phone chirped cheerfully, and he automatically withdrew it to check the screen, his face breaking into a wide smile when he saw the display. "Hold that thought," he raised a finger before reading the text: It was supposed to be your turn to make breakfast!

Brady leaned over to surreptitiously read the message from around his shoulder. "Bimbo du jour?"

"Bite your tongue, you know there's only one girl in my life," Nick scoffed, swatting Kip away before placing the call. A smile was exchanged between the younger detectives as they listened to the one sided conversation. "Hi Muffin...No, I know, but I'll make it up to you...Well...how about pancakes for dinner? ...Okay, Belgian waffles then...Did you finish your English project?...Okay, okay, it's my job to ask, you know...I will keep that in mind...I've gotta go chase bad guys, I'll see you tonight. Make good choices!...Bye sweetie, I love you." Nick tucked his phone away with a smile, rubbing his hands together expectantly. "Now then, where were we?"

"We were about to regale you with the tale of why we're here before you stopped to play Father Knows Best," Brady supplied helpfully.

"Regale away." Nick nodded benevolently, ignoring the jibe. There weren't many that took a back seat to his work, but he did his best to make time for his teenaged daughter, Veronica. "But start with the part as to what makes this a homicide investigation." In his experience, fires were a messy way to kill someone; most people didn't get that fancy.

"I think I can help with that." A gloved finger tapped on his shoulder and he turned to make room for the petite brunette with a paper mask attached to her forehead. "Had to hit the ladies room, too much coffee." Her nose wrinkled as she stepped into the bedroom and she rapidly replaced the mask, her hazel eyes skimming over the room to find the clipboard where she'd left it on the top of the dresser.

"My favorite M.E. Nice to see you, Libby, well... part of you," Nick grinned, stepping into the ruined bedroom with her.

"Always a pleasure, Sergeant Gibson," she nodded amiably, flipping open her metal clipboard and clicking on her pen.

"Not yet, but I'm hopeful," he dropped a playful wink, drawing a roll of the eyes, prompting Nick to clear his throat. "So, you were saying? This wasn't an ordinary fiery death then?"

"Not by a long shot, in fact this one should be right up your alley."

"Yeah?" He studied the body a little more closely. "Cause of death?"

"Not the fire. In fact, there's no sign of smoke inhalation at all."

"Huh, I wonder how he managed that?" He certainly looked crispy on the outside, why not the insides?

"I'm thinking it was probably a little hard for her to breathe with an eight inch knife plunged into her heart," Libby deadpanned.

"You don't say..." Nick brightened at the news. It was turning into an interesting fire after all.

"I do say. Entered here under the breast bone." She lightly touched the body with her gloved hand. "Right up under the rib cage and straight to the heart. Either the killer really knew what he was doing, or it was an incredibly lucky shot. She would have died almost instantly."

"That would complicate things," he allowed. "Any way to tell time of death?"

"It's a little more difficult with the state of the body, but on first examination I'd say sometime between eleven PM and two AM," Libby replied, scribbling onto the clipboard. "I'll have a more thorough report after I get her down to the morgue."

"The fire department was called at one forty-two AM by the next door neighbor," Park supplied, referring to the notepad on her cell phone.

"Okey doke." Nick backed out of the bedroom, leading them away from the doorway so Libby could get back to work. He might enjoy teasing her, but he knew she hated to have someone looking over her shoulder. "So, what have we got on our vic?"

Brady flipped open his notebook and began to recite the facts. "Her name was Caroline Mackenzie, but she legally changed it to 'Skye' when she became an Oregon resident. Age twenty-two, moved here from Texas three years ago. No priors, except for one arrest for disorderly conduct last year, during a peaceful demonstration that turned a little ugly, but the charges were later dropped. Worked as a massage therapist, according to her business cards. Not a bad looker if you like the hippie type." He picked up a framed photo depicting a smiling blonde sitting on a field of grass, a crown of daisies atop her head. She flashed a peace sign for the camera, blue eyes crinkling with mirth.

"Massage therapist, huh? Maybe someone got ticked off when she wouldn't give them a happy ending?" Nick chuckled at his own joke, drawing a smirk from Brady in kind before he cleared his throat with a look at Park.

Ignoring the childish jokes as par for the course, Park took up where Brady left off as though there hadn't been an interruption. "Her parents are still living in El Paso, Texas and she has two sisters that live in Texas also. That's about the extent of what came up on record so far."

Ducking his head into the kitchen, his gaze was drawn to a series of green plants tied into bundles and hanging face down from the ceiling. "Drugs?"

"No sir, those are various herbs. Some for cooking I assume, I can identify rosemary, sage, parsley, dill, oregano, basil, thyme... some of these... are a little more obscure, but nothing illegal."

"Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, huh? I'll take your word for it." He stepped back out into the living room, pausing at the desk. "We'll want to check out her client list, friends from her email account, the usual."

There was a small stack of business cards on the desk, all for the same shop. He picked one up, examining the stylized silver flame printed on glossy, deep blue cardstock. "Argent Flame, metaphysical and ritual supplies," he read aloud. "I wonder why she had a stack of these? Looks like it's over in the Hawthorne district... I wonder if she was running massages out of that place?"

Brady traded an amused look with Park. "Yeah, about that..."

"About what?"

"Come on, you'll want to see this for yourself," Brady smirked, already backing towards the archway that led to the small room in the back of the little house. The room was untouched by the fire, presumably as the owner had left it. Once intended as a sun room, the windows were all covered with brightly colored bedspreads in a series of celestial designs. One of the sun, another with a constellation of stars, one with the three phases of the moon and one with a large, five pointed star within a circle.

Candles surrounded the room as well, tall slender tapers, fat pillar candles and many unusual shapes and sizes. A small table pressed into the corner was covered with trinkets, small boxes and bottles, and some objects that resisted identification. Another five pointed star within a circle was drawn on the threadbare carpet with what looked like dirt, a darker stain in the center.

"Oh, this case keeps getting better and better..." Nick breathed, wandering through the room with interest before he turned on his team with exasperation. "You knew this room was here the whole time and you didn't lead off with this?"

"We saved the best for last?" Brady defended weakly with a helpless shrug. "We were letting the mood build."

"We didn't want to prejudice your examination of the rest of the crime scene," Park offered with a straight face.

"Sneaky... I like that." Nick pointed at each of them in turn. "So... what am I looking at here, exactly?"

"It appears our golden haired girl was also a card carrying witch."

"Get outta town, a witch?" Gibson's brows climbed. "Like pointy hat and broomsticks and the whole shebang? She sure hid her warts well." He thought back to the picture of the pretty girl, she looked like any wholesome college co-ed. Not the sort of gothy, tattooed, black dyed-hair type that he associated with the occult.

"The politically correct term is Wiccan, sir. But that does seem to be the case based on her library. She had a very strong interest in paganism if she wasn't one herself," Park added, sounding fairly knowledgeable on the subject. Nick resolved to ask her more about that later, but the star symbol on the rug caught his attention. Kneeling beside it, he looked up at her.

"CSU's already processed this room?"

"Yes sir, everything has been catalogued."

Picking up some of the dark powder and letting it fall through his gloved fingers, Nick studied the symbol. "Any idea what this stuff is?"

"First word is it's dirt, nothing beyond that as of yet, they took a sample down to the lab," Brady replied. "See that darker stain in the center? That's blood, same type as our vic. We're betting she was stabbed in here, then moved to the bedroom to make it look like the fire did her in."

"There's not too much of it then," Gibson frowned, rising to his feet again. Ordinarily he would have expected quite a bit more blood, especially if the body was moved to a completely different room. He studied the books on a short bookshelf. Lots of witchy subjects; everything from candle magic to herb craft, whatever that was.

Returning to the living room, he paused at one of the tall bookcases. Withdrawing a scrapbook, Nick studied the pictures within. There were photos of the victim at several gatherings, always smiling and laughing, hugging, generally joyful. His expression thoughtful, he flipped through the pages of her life, wondering, who would have killed such a happy go lucky kind of girl? But then again, he'd learned time and again, things were rarely as they seemed.

"Okay, let's step through this... our killer slips in here when she's home all alone and vulnerable, maybe she's in her witchy room, working on some kind of spell." Nick walked back into the ritual room. "Maybe she's even in a trance or something, because he's able to get the jump on her and stab her through the heart without her making so much as a squawk."

"Maybe he held his hand over her mouth? Muffled her before he stabbed her? She wasn't more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, she would have been easy to overpower," Brady suggested and Nick nodded his approval.

"True, it could have gone down like that. Either way, our guy decides the best way to hide any evidence of the crime is to burn the body, make it look like a simple accident. After all there are enough candles in the house to open up her own shop. So he scoops up the body, carries her into the bedroom." He stepped out of the rear room and headed back to the living room, stopping short of entering the bedroom, not wanting to interrupt Libby in her examination. "He sets her down and starts lighting candles. All he has to do is knock one over and it's domino city... soon the room is ablaze and he beats feet out of here, through the back door if he's smart."

"There's a large back yard out there, shared with the unit next door, fenced all the way around," Park supplied. "He could have hopped the fence, or even left through the front door. It was late, he could have gambled that no one would be up and around to see him, and the flames wouldn't have attracted any attention until they got really out of control."

"We've got a whole lotta nothin'," Nick sighed in disgust. At that stage of the game it was as though someone had taken a box of puzzle pieces and tossed them into the wind. Not only were they scattered about without any trace of a pattern, he wasn't even sure if all of the pieces were in one place yet.

Libby stepped into the bedroom doorway and crooked her fingers at the waiting EMT's who disappeared into the bedroom, wheeling the gurney between them.

Somewhat subdued, Gibson turned to his team. "Okay, now the fun stuff," he said briskly, all business now. "Park, you take the family, make the call, you know what to do." Never one to enjoy making that call, he delegated it to Park, who had a gentle touch with victim's families. "See if you can find out about her friends, if she had a boyfriend, the usual. Brady, start running down the contacts from her phone and computer, I want a list of her clients ASAP. Find out if she's affiliated with a massage therapy place in town or if she was working freelance on her own. Let's get her bank records too, see if there's anything suspicious there. Keep in touch, you know the drill."

"You got it boss-man," Brady nodded, scribbling into his notebook, and Park echoed her assent, fingers flying across the screen of her smart phone.

"I'm gonna swing by and check out this occult store, see what I can turn up. See if she was really a tree-hugger type or if she was into any of the dark stuff." He waved one of the business cards from the desk.

The EMT's emerged from the bedroom, wheeling the body bag with practiced indifference. "Okay, let's move like we got a purpose people." Nick waved them on grimly. All kidding aside, it tore at him to see someone full of youth struck down so senselessly, and he was determined to bring the killer to justice.

