“What did he say to you back there?”

I tried to steel myself for the answer, tried to find the right words. “He said the shifter didn’t mean it, said he was holed up in some downtown house with one of the other Ruba wolves.”

He yanked his seatbelt down. “So the fur ball was lying, what a damn surprise.”

My belly tightened, squashing spaghetti into pulp. I hated lying to him, especially when he'd had my back in there. But that nagging feel wouldn’t go away.

An icy touch skimmed along my spine. I lifted my head to the darkened windows and caught movement. The engine started with a growl, but we didn’t move as Titus caught the stare. “You okay? You see something?”

I shook my head. “No, nothing.”

“You’re sure freaking me out, you know. Maybe there’s someone I could take you to see, a healer or something?”

I reached across and patted his arm, placating him, really. No healer could help me, not with this. I was changing, morphing, seeing things I’d never seen before; feeling things I’d never felt before. And, as much as I was terrified—I wanted more. “No…no healer. I think I just want to go home.” I glanced at the green digital clock in the dashboard, it was well after six. “You’ve got a dinner to go to anyway, remember?”

He shoved the car into gear and spun the wheel. “No thanks to you.”

A tiny chuckle slipped free. It wasn’t funny then, born out of necessity more than anything. But it was funny now. “Sorry about that.”

He cut me a glare. “No, you’re not. Still it was probably a good move. Time to get out of that house, fucking mausoleum. You’d think I’d be good at this shit, right?”

Good at what? Love, pain…destruction? “No one is ever good at relationships, Titus, look at me, a prime example.”

I waited for the snark, the banter, the burn of his words, but there was nothing but a glance my way. I stared at the dashboard as he stared a little too long.

An awkward silence settled deep. He was thinking…thinking about me, and that was never any good.

Not for him, and not for me.

He’s just not that into you…a book, written for me—it was the story of my fucking life.

“So, tomorrow,” he finally broke the silence. “If you’re prepared to do this all again.”

“I still got a case to solve, so I guess, yeah.”

“And this time, I promise to do a little better on the coffee and food front.”

I gave a shrug as we speared through the city and headed toward the seedy Black Candle district. Towering skyscrapers sparkled with the dimming sun, but, even though the yellow rays caressed my arm, I couldn’t feel the warmth. There was a coldness now that came with that power, a coldness that cut right through my soul.

“So, an early night for you? I don’t even know what your kind gets up to.”

“My kind as in hunter, witch…supe?”

“Women…really” he muttered with a shake of his head. “But don’t get me wrong, I kinda like the idea of you dressed in a black robe, chanting to the moon.”

“Don’t be silly,” I murmured, my voice a little too husky. “I don’t wear a robe.”

Hands tightened, strangling the wheel. Oh yeah…I smothered a smile. Mr. Perfect Fucking Gentleman was cracking under the pressure.

“Sixty-nine,” I muttered and stared at his face.

Throat worked, swallowing hard, before he turned his head, one brow rising to the occasion, leaving me to wonder about something else. “Excuse me?” he murmured.

I nodded toward the busy city streets. “Maddison Street, that’s where I live. Apartment above Chang's Chinese.”

And, for a second, I felt the cocky me rise once more. This day was hell. No fucking wolf, no fucking money, and a whole lotta angst. I craned my head, rubbing sore muscles, and, oh, yeah, a foul fucking aftertaste of the damn drug.

And still there was one thread I had tied off. One fucking thread that threatened to unravel it all.

Redemption.

The guy haunted me. He was breathing, for one. The first and only guy to leave me and not the other way around. Titus handled the car with ease, leaving the busy city center behind and headed for the supernatural line.

Sign posts marred the way. Black and white, lined with flashing white lights that illuminated after dark.

Supernatural line 5 miles...

Supernatural line 4 miles...

Supernatural line 3 miles…

No matter how many years we'd lived here, no matter how many times we proved ourselves, there was always the persecution—always the difference. We just couldn’t get away from it.

The rest of the drive was quiet. I gave him nothing really, no help finding his demon, no giving him…I tried to think—what the fuck was I supposed to give him?

Supernatural line…

The last one slipped past in a blur and we were home…Titus slowed the car as we rounded Harker Hollow. Red, blue, and white sigils were sprayed on the street corners, and these were the only kind of tags you didn’t want to remove.

A group of young women stood outside a brownstone, two smoking a cigarette in one hand and holding a smoldering stick of incense in the other. Elder witches watched from above, one stood, staring into the bruising sky.

She lowered her gaze as we cruised past and met my gaze through the window of the car, and my chest ached with need.

She reminded me of Alma, pure and strong, deep-seated in her power and purpose. She was every kind of gentle gray, shot through with electric teal, from her hair, to her eyes, to the clothes she wore.

And just like that, she was gone, slipping far behind me.

“You going to be okay on your own, tonight? I mean, you’re welcome to come for dinner with me and the Stacks.”

God, he sounded awkward. “You mean like a date, Inspector?”

There was stunned silence. But I was tired, and ready for this torture to be over. “Just kidding, Titus, don’t sweat it. I’ll be fine. A good sleep is all I need. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my usual pain in the ass self, just you wait and see.”

“Can’t wait,” he forced a grumble and turned into Maddison Street.

I spied Chang’s in the distance. “So tomorrow, about eight?”

He slowed the car, pulled over, and then leaned forward, staring up at the propped open window above the restaurant. “Eight it is. You always leave your place open like that?”

I turned, found the shimmied open window, and laughed. Poor bugger really didn’t know me at all. “Don’t sweat it, Inspector. No one’s dumb enough to break into my place. If you don’t know by now, I’m the one they fear around here. A hunter with a reputation of leaving barely more than a whisper of existence behind.”

I shouldered the door open and shoved it closed. The empty car space made me wince. I’d need to catch a bus to The Circle to get my damn car. Later. I lifted my hand to Mrs. Chang and made for the front door.

I felt tired, wrung dry, as I stepped inside. The building was quiet. I glanced along the darkened hallway to the lower floor, listening to a faint TV, before I headed for the stairs.

Doors opened, muffled voices filtered out. I turned my head, catching the sneaky operation. Vibrant blue lingered inside the potion bottle, sparks ignited, bursting against the side of the glass as the young kid slipped it into his pocket and pulled his hoodie low.

A key clattered in the lock as he pulled the door closed behind him. Something growled from inside the apartment. A heavy thud followed. Whatever he closed inside wanted out…or whatever was in that bottle.

He lifted his head as he turned, catching my stare.

“Lorn,” came the soft male voice.

“Ace,” I answered and dropped my gaze to the hand inside his pocket. “Selling spells again, are we?”

With a shrug, he answered. “Gotta level-up somehow.”

He was a good kid, quiet, dealing on the side for experiments that cost a small fortune. I liked him. “Stay safe out there.”

Pimply skin illuminated as he lifted his head and found my gaze. “Always. No one would be stupid enough, would they?”

No, they wouldn’t. I gave a smile and then trudged up the stairs. listening to the front door open and close behind me before I hit my door. We had our own kind of protection this side of the border—the only kind humans were scared of.

No one would hurt Ace, across the division he was nothing more than a pimply geek. But over here, he was up and coming, a true artist of alchemy. I shoved my key into the lock and turned.

Titus was worried. He didn’t realize no one would be stupid enough to break into this building. The walls were drenched with sigils. Spells filled the hallway. A faint growl echoed from downstairs—some even found form, for a while at least.

I grinned, shook my head, and stepped inside. Power was a true weapon…and this place was as safe as…the air shifted as I closed the door behind me.

A bitter cold punctured the thought like a blade.

Something wasn’t right…I glanced at the living room and stepped into the tiny kitchen. Goosebumps raced across my skin as I looked toward my bedroom.

Power lingered like a scent, only this was no sweet perfume…this was a male, and hungry.

Fear lifted its head as I moved, clenching my gut. Fingers curled, summoning energy inside as I moved across the open doorway, I glanced into the bedroom, and then left into the bathroom, before I moved inside. The thick shower curtain was pulled back, revealing nothing more than a row of half-empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

But the feeling grew as I slipped into the bedroom. The stain on the air was powerful, and dark, and sexually charged…growing stronger the closer to my bed.

The covers were thrown aside from this morning, pillow still indented from my head. But there was another energy here, another who'd rifled through my things, another who'd left a mark…

A mark he knew would last.

Redemption.

The sonofabitch filled my head. His desperation and anger. The way he curled his body, towering over Veronica, and the lies…so many fucking lies.

He was born filled with them.

It was the only thing that made sense. Had he seen me next to his car? Had he seen me pick up the drug?

A cover-up. It was the only thing that made sense. He’d come here trying to find what? A list of places I’d search…maybe information pointing to him. My top lip curled, as if I’d be that fucking stupid.

He had to be involved with this entire thing; the drugs, the attacks…and this dark foreboding.

What was the one major threat to a hunter? I thought about the money, and the jobs…and with growing rage, I thought about Alistair Horton and his scheming lies. There was only one true threat when you hunted supernatural creatures for a living…another fucking hunter.

I headed for the kitchen, and the half a bottle of vodka I had left. They took Alma from me, forced her to leave heartbroken and penniless, and now they wanted what?

To set me up….it was the only thing that made sense. I tried to think about the job…tried to think about Titus. The guy was supposed to be on leave, and here we were trampling halfway across the city to beat up a damn gremlin.

I yanked open the cupboard and grabbed a tumbler before turning to the freezer. Two frozen meals and one half-filled bottle of Vodka waited for me. I gripped the glass, feeling the cold cut through my palm, and winced.

The claw marks across my palm were still red and swollen. A memory slipped into place, a sigil carved across the flesh…a triangle…no, more than a triangle…

I sat the bottle on the counter and made for my old wooden chest. The battered thing was handed down by Alma, filled with all the information she wanted me to have over the years.

I lifted the lid and dug through the old bibles. Leather skimmed under my fingers. Rubber bands bound others tight. Ruptured spines threatened to spill secrets. I eased the top bibles aside, searching for the golden sigil on the brown leather cover.

It was a small book, thin by comparison to the other mammoth tomes. The pages were flat, not buckled or bent. But inside the cover was pure gold. The sigils were both dark and light, protecting as well as sending energy back to the owner a thousand fold.

I flicked through the pages, they were the same sigils I used to paint my blood into the walls of this place, and the same sigils I marked on my skin after each shower.

Triangle…triangle.

I flicked through the pages, my gaze skimming hoops and swirls and straight-edged markings. But no triangle. Not a fucking one.

That had to be a mistake. I’d seen triangles in here before. I’d written triangles in here before…

I flicked through the pages once more, this time shoving up from the floor to walk blindly into to kitchen. Page after page I searched, and once more for the ones with ADHD, trying like hell to focus.

Nope…nada.

I leaned across and grabbed a pencil, turning to the nearest blank page. My memory was slow. I tried to remember, and then traced a line across the top, and then angled both sides down to meet at the middle. There was more to it, straight lines, ending in a curl somewhere.

I unscrewed the cap and poured the vodka into the glass, eyeing the artwork. It wasn’t right, not anywhere near it. I raised the glass and drank. Heat burned along my throat and settled in my belly. I was so taken with the feeling, so consumed by the heat, I stared at the pencil in my hand. What the hell was I doing?

An open book sat on the counter…my book…my sigil book.

My thoughts were slow, blending and oozing like crusted molasses, but they were getting nowhere. Something didn’t feel right. What the hell would I want with the book? The pages held no trigger. Blank…both of them. I flicked to the pages before. Just normal spells for the dark moon. Nothin’ too crazy.

I flipped the cover closed and drained the glass.

I gripped the bottle and shoved the vodka back into the freezer. My hand smarted…scratches were cut across my palm, itching and nagging.

That’s right. The sigil…the sigil I was trying to remember. I turned my head, staring at the open book on the counter, and felt something at work here, something that twisted and muddled until my thoughts just fell away.

Like a déjà vu without the fucking vu.

I flipped the book closed and stared out of the window. Shift, that’s right. That’s what I was doing, heading for the seedy strip club smack bang in the heart of the supernatural suburbs.

I picked up the glass, rinsed, and turned the tumbler upside down to drain as I made for the bedroom. I’d need a sleep, make sure I was firing on all damn cylinders.

I stepped on the back of my boot and kicked it free, followed by the other…and, as the sun slipped lower on the horizon, I threw my keys and phone on the bedside table, climbed into bed, and rested my head on the pillow.

The faint smell of dog invaded. But I was too far gone, as sleep reached up with merciless claws and dragged me under.

***

The air pulsed with the heavy beat. It was a stripper's beat, nice and slow, thundering through your body. I stood outside the club, glanced to the damn line of people that ran along the front and disappeared around the corner, and headed for the front of the line.

Shadows moved, giving birth to the biggest no-necked muthafucker I’d ever seen. I craned my head, lifting my gaze higher and higher. Had to be part giant…with three fucking eyes. Jesus…abort…abort.

I slowed my steps, until he lifted a monstrous paw and motioned me forward. I tried to find my steps, tried to stop looking at that wicked fucking eye in the middle of his forehead.

Panic gripped me as I neared. Which one do I look into…which one do I focus on and unleash the charm? I shoved back my shoulders and pressed my breasts hard against the tight leather shirt.

A cool midnight breezed licked my skin, drawing my nipples to a point. They’d poke an eye out at a hundred paces if I got any colder.

An eye…

Eyes, more like it. I tried to focus, doing the rounds from his normal eyes…to the eye. I raised my brows, forcing a smile as panic fucking rose.

His brows furrowed, clenching the skin around the other. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“Eye…zzz.”

Not my finest fucking moment. He stepped forward, gripped my collar with one move, and shoved. “End of the goddamn line.”

Shit…shit…

I stumbled, catching my heel on the chipped pavement and pitched forward. They all stared, sneering silently as I turned the corner and stumbled along the damn line. Bloody hell. The thing stretched for halfway along the outside of the club. Others shivered under the bitter damn breeze that seemed to come from nowhere.

They watched me as I ground my jaw and hit the end of the line. Goddamn eye…I had him. I fucking had him. I took my place and leaned against the wall, feeling the heavy beat vibrate the walls.

The sound slipped out into the midnight air. I turned my head, resolved to spending the next three fucking years of my life waiting to get inside, and stared at the locked steel door.

A door that had to lead inside. I glanced along the line. No one was moving. Not even a damn shuffle of a step. I sighed, glanced around the darkness, and casually moved closer.

The steel vibrated. Yep, definitely led inside. Probably a fire door…felt like a fire door. They shouldn’t be locked, right? Should be kept open, safety to the public and all that.

“Can’t have a damn wolf singeing his fur, can we?” I murmured and gripped the lock.

“Need a hand with that?”

I jumped at the deep growl and turned. He leaned against the building, staring not at me, but at the lock in my hand.

“I’ve got it…thanks,” I muttered, but I didn’t have it, not really.

Flesh and bone were one thing—if it had a pulse, I could manipulate it, but inanimate objects were another matter altogether. I yanked, until the inch-thick link snapped taut. Still, the guy never moved.

I shifted, giving him my back, and muttered. “Wanna back up a little, buddy?”

I glanced over my shoulder at the hard smirk as he lifted his head. Faint orange flames danced within the dark pools of his eyes. My gut tightened, heart raced—a damn hellhound.

And, suddenly, giving him my back wasn’t such a great idea. I yanked the locked, jerked, tried to twist, but the damn thing refused to move. There was a gap, like half a fucking inch, until the door refused to budge.

“I think you could make it,” he murmured. “If you sucked it in and turned sideways, you might be able to slip through.”

Desperation flared with those words. I found his gaze. “You think?”

There was a smirk, and then a slight shake of his head before he reached over, took the lock from my hand, and yanked.

Metal twisted and whined and, with a loud snap, broke free. One piece came away in his hand, the other hung, buckled and bent, from the lock.

“Ladies first,” he murmured with a cocky ass grin.

I wanted to wipe that smirk from his face. Wanted to do a lot of things. But hellhounds were vicious and powerful sonsofbitches. This was one supe I didn’t want to piss off.

I dropped the busted lock to the ground and yanked the handle. The hinge let out a screech before I stepped into the small hallway. I could feel him behind me, steps echoed, moving close. I wanted to glance over my shoulder, wanted to snarl and force him backwards.

Voices called out from outside the door. Others were following, leaving the three-hour line behind. The music grew louder, thundering through the space as I shuffled forward and hit a door.

One twist of the hand and I was grinding my teeth.

“Allow me,” the hellhound murmured and leaned across.

His shoulder brushed my arm, chest pressed against me, and the more I leaned backwards, the more he moved in. The handle rattled under his grip. He seemed to take his fucking time, snarled, and then leaned forward that little bit more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against my face. “Slippery hands.”

They weren’t the only things slippery with this guy. Orange flames sparked and flashed in his gaze, burning a little brighter the more he pushed against me, until the lock gave way and the door opened.

He leaned backwards, gaze down, not giving a damn thing away as I turned and left him behind. A heavy black curtain cut us off from the rest of the bar. I swept the fabric aside and headed across the crowded dance floor.

The rear end of Shift doubled as a night club, the tiny dance floor was crammed with humans posing as supes. There were groupies for all kinds of walks of life—but none more than the tattooed wannabes that filled this dance floor.

I shoved through, elbowing a leather-clad woman with bleached blonde hair out of the way.

“Watch it,” she snarled and lifted her hand. Sigils adorned her fingers and ran the length of her arm in thick black tattoos.

I stared a little too long, memories of sigils and palms surfacing. There was something going on, something that didn’t feel quite right.

“You have something, sweetheart?” The blonde licked her lips and moved in. “You know, the stuff that opens up your sight, the real stuff.”

I flinched and shook my head, catching sight of the hellhound across the room. He was watching me with hellfire eyes. I stepped from the dance floor and carved my way through the crowded tables. This place was choked, ten deep at the bar and even more crammed around the doorway for the toilets. I left the back bar behind and made for the pole dancers.

Fur and skin shimmied and shook. They catered to all tastes in this seedy bar. A wolf stood on the platform amongst the bare-breasted women; the shifter circled the floor, tail raised, and then stood on her hind legs and shifted. Fur shrank back to skin, face flattened, turning dark eyes into brown.

Bones crunched and cracked under the change. But the sickening sound didn’t seem to worry the men who waved fists filled with bills in the air, calling her over.

I stepped through the tables, moving away from the hunters and the hounds, and searched the rest of the bar. Thander wanted me here…and the ghoul wasn’t known for shitting around. So there was a reason. I just needed to find what that reason was.

The front bar sat amongst blinding lights, but the rest of the club was in relative darkness. Men and women crowded the edges, some mind-grinding up against the wall, kissing and biting bare flesh with bared fangs.

If a human wanted to get picked up by a supe, then this would be the place to come. Someone moved against me, brushing a hand across my ass. I turned my head, catching a wink of a vamp. He smiled, motioned me over to the side of the room. I couldn’t stop from smirking. He was young, newly turned. I was guessing three, five years at most.

His sire would be close by. I glanced around the room, catching movement beside me. And there he was, perfect and poised, a man far beyond his time.

His pale skin shimmered as he leaned in, fangs peeking out under blood red lips. “Please accept my apologies. He’s young…”

There was panic in his eyes. Everyone knew The Circle’s hunters, and everyone steered clear. I gave a nod. Young or not, the vamp would get a lot more than a warm vein with me. The sire and his pup moved away, shifting their target to someone else.

I scanned the room, watching them narrow in on one young wolf. He lifted his head, scenting the air as they narrowed in, and bared his fangs. But the bloodsuckers weren’t taking the hint, moving closer, trying their best with the charm.

Somethings never change, and it was the unending hate between wolf and vamp that filled my days. Mercy, revenge, and just downright-hate crimes kept me busy.

Someone turned behind the wolf, giving his back to the strippers and drawing my gaze. Pale skin shone against the dimmed lights. A demon? Without seeing his eyes, I didn’t know for sure. My gaze slipped to the young woman at his side. She stared at the guy with a mixture of adoration and awe. A human, no doubt…one of those supe bangers.

Baldy reached into his jacket as the young vamp moved in on the wolf behind them. The young wolf shoved to his feet and took a step forward, white fangs bared in the dark, eyes blazing with hate and fear—not a good combination.

But the place was crawling with bouncers. Two of them moved in like a pincer, steering the vampires away. Bald guy turned his head at the commotion, and then lifted those infernal black demon eyes to me.

My heart lunged, slamming against the confines of my ribs. I shifted my gaze, fixing on someone else now…anyone else. But my mind was racing.

It was him…the demon from Titus’s sketch.

I reached for my pocket, drawing my phone free as the demon turned back to the woman, handing her what looked like a thick pile of stubs. She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, and stepped away.

With business done, the ell-owned bastard stepped away. I shoved forward as someone moved across the room. My steps were mirrored, drawing my gaze. It was Mr. Hellfire-eyes himself, head down, long strides cutting between dancers on the packed floor.

There was a panicked gaze in my direction as I surged forward, and, for a second, I saw how fucking drop-dead gorgeous he was. Dark smoldering eyes, tousled, long black hair, and tattoos that marred perfect, milky skin.

His gaze narrowed in on me as a fight broke out. Punches were thrown, screams erupted. I cut across the floor, eyeing the young wolf as I left the hellhound behind and raced after the demon.

The place was too damn dark. I searched for a bald head amongst the ocean of patrons and caught the flare of pale skin to my left.

A guy turned hard, knocking into me and spilling his drink. “Hey,” he barked, looked at the mess over his hand and then lifted his gaze. “Looks like you owe me a drink, gorgeous.”

“In your fucking dreams, dude,” I snarled and kept walking.

Green lit up my hand as I hit the button on my phone and scrolled through the contacts.

Stubborn, snarly male made me enter his number before I left. Just as well…I hit Titus’s number and shoved forward through the growing crowd.

There was a ring on the other end and then a voice, as the music changed into something heavy and damn loud.

“It’s me,” I yelled into the phone. “I’m at a club called Shift, and your demon is here…can you hear me? Titus…you there?”

I yanked the phone away, staring at the screen as someone hit me from behind.

“Hey, bitch!” the guy yelled, moving in between the flash of lights. It was drinks guy…only this time, he was pissed. “I said you owe me a fucking drink.”

The darkness inside me lashed out, like a tendril on a whip, slowing the frenzy of the music…slowing everything. I could see it all. His desires, his hate…his pain, and his need, and that cold, deep-seated need to own. “You don’t want to do this.”

He stilled, heavy breaths raising his chest. Blue eyes narrowed, and then stilled on mine. I knew what he wanted. The same thing everyone in this club wanted…to belong.

“Use me. Hurt me…do anything you want,” he whispered. Need raged in those perfect eyes. “Please.”

But it wasn’t just him…it was everyone…this club, this street, this suburb…the entire fucking world.

And I felt them all. All the need…all the desire, all flooding into me at once.

My knees shook, hands trembled. My phone slipped as I stumbled under the weight. So much pain…cruel pain. Consuming pain.

And with that darkness came something else. A knowing…just reach out, whispered a voice inside my head. Reach out and take them. I lowered my gaze to the human standing in front of me, his tortured gaze so damn pathetic.

Hate filled me, hate and hurt and rage. There was a twitch of my power, a summoning that felt cold and savage. His face twisted, blue eyes widened. Terror sparked inside the blue.

I warned you, that voice inside whispered, and yet I felt the words on the tip of my tongue. I could hurt him…really hurt him. I could hurt them all…everyone…everything.

Even Alma…even Titus…and Gabriel.

Panic thundered, severing that darkness inside. Their faces filled me, soft and warm, and I wrenched the touch away, shattering the hold over this human, this street, this suburb…and the world.

A pale blur moved amongst the dancers. I turned, catching the dark, bottomless stare from across the room. The demon watched me, red lips twisting into a cruel smile. He turned from me, heading left…

My damn phone. I dropped my gaze to the floor and then knelt. Red flashed amongst heels and boots. The screen was alight with an incoming call. I surged forward, scurrying on hand and knees, and reached.

A boot kicked the damn thing, sending it left. “Move,” I yelled as my phone was kicked once more, sending it end over end into the dark.

I shoved from the ground and lunged, leaving the phone behind. Sonofabitch was getting away. I prayed Titus heard me, prayed he was on his way, 'cause this demon was damn strong—and fucking big.

I scanned the crowd, punching through the wall of fucking humans and caught sight of a hallway leading off to the left.

“Move,” I growled, twisting at the waist and stepping through the crowd. “Get out of the fucking way.”

Hard lights flashed as the beat changed once more. The intermittent glare was cruel, illuminating the hallway before it was cast in total darkness once more.

I couldn’t let him get away…not now. The music faded the deeper I went, turning once more to lead me further from the dance floor.

Soft lights cut through the hall on the right. I caught the faint glare of light as a door closed on the right. He had nowhere to go now. The vicious sonofabitch was all mine. I grinned as light spilled into the hallway at the end of the hall.

I turned my head as the door cracked open, growing wider and wider, until it stopped half open, and the ruthless snarl of rage slipped through.

The deep, male growl was familiar…a little too fucking familiar. My gut clenched as a name tore through the air.

“Lorn.”

My fucking name. I glanced at the door where the demon had slipped through, and then that half open door. Fate pulled me forward, step by step. I couldn’t fight, couldn’t do a damn thing as he came into view.

Redemption strode across the room, coming into view through the open door. “You don’t know how much this is killing me…or maybe you do, but you don’t care.”

A muffled voice answered. I took another step, drawn to that sound and caught the glint in the mirrors on the other side of the dressing room. Redemption moved close and reached up to grip the door.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. None of it…I don’t care…I won’t lie, not anymore…not to her.”

The thud of my boot echoed as the song fell silent for a beat. Redemption stiffened. His hand tightened on the door as he turned his head.

There was a second where I didn’t think he saw me…

A second where my gaze slipped to the mirrors at the back at the room and glimpsed the person behind the doorway.

A second where that person turned toward the mirror, and the perfect, wrinkled eyes of my grandmother widened.