I made my way back to the apartment to see in daylight the mess I’d caused. The street was blocked off. The City Council in full swing, scraping the ruptured and crumbled tar with machinery while other crews waited to survey the rest of the damage.

Rival was right. I wasn’t like every other creature this side of the supernatural line. I had to be careful, and by careful meant I had to keep a damn lid on my rage. I’d channel it for a new purpose, make me faster, stronger…more dangerous. I dug into my pocket, pulled out my keys and headed for the only car parked straight against the cub.

Most of the others were gone, towed or moved somewhere safer. I hit the button and the lights flashed amber. Cupcakes swirled inside my belly as I yanked the door open, slipped the pack from my shoulders, and climbed inside.

The engine started, and I was rolling, easing my way past the traffic controllers and out into the street. My mother’s journals were left behind in the apartment, and that was where I wanted them.

If things didn’t go well, if Titus never recovered, I had to have a reason to come back, even if it was to grab my things and keep on moving. I was becoming more like Alma every day.

The hunter…always on the hunt.

I wove through the streets, finding my way back to Harbor City Hospital, and parked. I shoved my pack underneath the seat and climbed from the car. Strangers smiled, and strode past. I made my way through the front doors and along the hall. These steps were so damn familiar now, I could walk them in my sleep.

The bitter scent of alcohol greeted me in the ICU. My gaze gravitated to the nurse’s station, as the events of last night came to life inside my mind.

Ten days…ten lonely days.

Titus would get justice before they were done. I was here to promise it. I left the desk behind and strode along the hall before turning left. His room was quiet…too quiet.

Fresh flowers sat beside his bed, and for a second, a pang of jealously cut through me before I really saw them…perfect pink, in all different shades of color from roses to hibiscus and lilies, flooding the room with sweet, pungent scent.

There was only one person who’d bring flowers like this…Gabriel.

“Looks like you had a visitor,” I murmured and stepped closer, leaving the door to close behind me.

There was no change, still the same beep…beep…beep…and hiss of the ventilator. I’d hoped for a miracle, and for the second time today was left wanting.

“I miss you,” an ache flared with the words. “I feel like an entire section of my fucking life is missing, and I don’t know how to get it back.” Or how to get you back.

That’s really what I was trying to say. Silence settled with the whoosh…whoosh…whoosh of the machines filling the space. I stared at the corner of his pillow, unable to settle on his face.

If I looked too long, I’d never leave him. I’d never be able to do the things I had to do. I took a step closer, eyes drifting to the cupboard as I rounded the foot of the bed.

The drawer was wedged tight. I gripped the handle and puled. Steel screamed on steel, sending a grating howl through the room. I jerked my head toward the doorway, watching…waiting…no one came.

Out of the gap came the little creature, tiny colored wings flapping as it crawled on top of the drawer and gave a yawn, minuscule razored teeth glinting under the overhead light.

“Did I interrupt you sleeping?”

The creature turned her head, glanced at Titus, and mumbled words I couldn’t hear. I shook my head. “I can’t hear you.”

Anger flashed in her eyes as she turned her head and tried again. Tiny chirping sounds molded into words I couldn’t catch. I shook my head, listening to her huff and then launch herself toward the bed.

She looked tired…no longer the tiny flapping creature full of energy and spunk. Her little claws dug into the sheets as she crawled onto the mattress and went to Titus’s arm.

The sounds came again, chirping, squeaking, frustration and desperation bleeding into the call. She crawled and stomped, dragging the gown against his arm as she crept along his chest and stopped.

She clenched her fist and drove it down, thumping the area over his mark and then pointed to me. I tried to understand, tried to catch the shrill noise from her mouth. His mark, and me. “Yes, I made that. I made the mark, we bonded.”

I lifted my hand, pointed to my heart and then to him. “He is mine, and I am his.”

The creature stilled, turned her gaze to Titus’s closed eyes and nodded. She opened her wings, and drove them through the air. Tiny feet lifted from his chest as she hovered.

Her words were softer now, filled with sadness and love. She loved him…she really loved him.

“I need to go away now,” I prayed she understood. “There’s some things I need to take care of. But I’m going to find a way to bring him back, do you hear me? I’m going to find a way to bring him back.”

She never turned, just floated in the air above his chest and watched him. There was nothing left for me to say. No words that could make him open his eyes, no tears to make him lift his hand to my cheek.

He was alive, for now.

I had everything in my car that would help me. Every piece of the puzzle in a rolled-up mess. The door to his room closed with a soft thud behind me as I left the hospital corridor behind.

I’d go back and start at the beginning, find the house Mom shared with Jay, and this time trace him. I made my way past the nurse’s station and back out into the main part of the hospital.

It was busier now, people rushing through the foyer with arms laden with flowers and overnight bags. Outside, the call of a siren cut through the air. Life, death, they were all around me.

I strode to my car and climbed inside. Remembering the smashed widow Rival had repaired in the days after the fire, I leaned over and grasped my pack.

Titus Banks - Species: Unknown…

I had all the information Alma left behind in the apartment, but I was betting there was more at the house…just like the diaries she left open for me to find.

I turned the key and started the engine. It was like I was saying goodbye forever, slipping out of my old skin for something new.

I shoved the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Life carried on out here, the sun still rose, the moon still shone. I wove through the traffic, stopping at the lights, until I left the city behind.

The highway looked different during the day. Towering green ash trees were replaced by weathered palms. I punched the accelerator and watched the speedometer climb.

It was just me once again, with nothing more than the hunted in my sights. Minutes slipped into hours, until that old familiar sign came into view. Claw marks punctured the metal. I scanned the side of the road for the unmarked road and hit the turning signal.

A horn blared behind me as a car pulled out and sped around. I glared at the driver, lifted my hand, flipped him the bird, and swung off the paved road. “Asshole.”

The car bottomed out as it found the wheel ruts, and I slowed to a crawl. I remembered being here as a kid after Mom died. I remembered all the hard times, and a few of the good. But I couldn’t remember Hell, or the Keep, or Mrs. Barnaby’s cupcakes. I wanted to remember something.

The wheel ruts softened as the dirt road tapered off into the narrow drive. I gripped the wheel, fighting the pull as the tires dug in. The old place looked even worse than last time. The same timber railings where lying on the ground, yet to be fixed.

I guessed they’d never be fixed again. Unless I lived here. The thought tore free. Would I inherit the place along with the run-down building? Maybe, maybe not. You never knew with Alma. The place was more than likely left to some charity in need; after all, she did hand me fifty-one percent of a multi-million dollar company.

And I handed it straight back. What an idiot.

I braked, pulling up along the side of the house. The place looked in even worse condition than before. The barn door was missing, the dirt dug up along the ground outside. Probably a wolf, or Mothman. Could be anything out here.

I waited, scanned the rest of the place for fresh tracks and then reached for the knife at my waist, killed the engine, and yanked the keys. Whoever it was, they would’ve sensed me coming miles away. They’d be long gone by now, scurrying up the hill to the right, hiding amongst the harsh arid landscape.

I yanked the handle and cracked open the door. Most of the creatures around here protected the place rather than trashed it. Alma was the mother of hunters and, as such, commanded some respect.

But there was always one, wasn’t there? Always one with a goddamn grudge. I sucked in the dry air and climbed from the car. Birds chirped in the distance. The long and sorrowful sound seemed perfect. I felt tired, bone-aching tired.

I’d had little sleep for what felt like weeks, and the events of the last twenty-four hours were taking their toll. My thighs burned from fighting the gale-force winds of the Keep, and emotionally, I was running on empty.

That seemed to be my go-to setting lately. I gripped the blade and stepped closer. “This is private property. I don’t want any problems, just up and leave. I’m not about to spill blood on my Grandmother’s porch, but I will, if it comes to that.”

There was no movement, no sound. I crept closer, and peered around the corner of the building. The back door was closed, the mesh still intact. I scanned the ground, no footprints, no marks of any kind.

I relaxed my grip and moved closer, finding her key on my keyring. I’d had no ambitions of coming out here ,really. So I had no idea why I still spooled one set of keyrings after another on my tiny chain.

For this exact moment. The words filled me, and deep down I knew it was true. I knew what war was coming…I’d seen it all in eyes of pure evil.

Lucifer was wrong to call for peace.

He was wrong to want to hide down in Hell’s dungeons.

I didn’t have that damn luxury, not if I wanted to be with Gabriel.

Not if I wanted to be with Titus.

I wouldn’t choose, no goddamn way.

I shoved the key into the lock and twisted. The deadbolt gave way with a clunk, and I grabbed the knob and pushed through.

She was right here, in every damn inch of this place. It still looked the same from when I’d walked out weeks before, the same maps still stuck against the wall. I turned my head to the sofa and the table. But the journals were gone.

There was nothing there. Not one shred of evidence, no one glimmer of hope. I stepped through and closed the door behind me.

Alma, you here? Automatic words were wedged in the back of my throat. I swallowed the call and took a breath, fighting the urge to walk back out once more and never come back.

The Keep I never remembered. Mrs. Barnaby I never remembered.

But this place. This place with the heat and the pheasants and the call of the hawks circling above. This place I knew.

Tears pricked my eyes as I made my way past the living room to the kitchen. Cups were overturned on the sink. A calendar marked midway through the month. She was right here…and then she wasn’t.

I grabbed a glass from the sink, and filled it with water.

I was in the house of a hunter.

One of the best this world had ever seen.

I planned to follow in her footsteps.

After about eight hours of solid sleep.

I went to the far bedroom on the hall…my room…it’d always been my room, even when I left in a fit of anger—even when we didn’t see eye to eye.

I stepped through the doorway, now a little smaller than I remembered, and moved inside. Actually, the entire room was a lot smaller than I remembered.

The single bed was shoved hard up against the wall, always face what’s coming for you, Lorn...that’s why we sleep with this.

Nostalgia drew me closer, making me reach toward the pillow and lift the corner high. The blade was still there, still waiting for my grip, still ready to cut and cleave.

Face your demons, that’s what my grandmother had taught me.

Face your demons and stand your ground.

Even if your damn knees shudder and shake.

“I’m trying, Alma. I’m goddamn trying.”

I moved to the grimy window and untangled the cords of the blind. The sun dimmed with a squeak and a squeal, and the room was shaded once more. I stepped closer, yanked the sheets down low.

She must’ve had the damn thing made up for me, that night weeks ago when I came for answers and left with more lies. But I understood her reasons now. Even if I didn’t like them, I understood.

The bed springs howled as I sat and then flopped down. My head hit the pillow, finding the familiar outline of the blade. I lifted my feet, and slipped them between the sheets. The damn bed was so tiny. There’d be no stretching out here, no rolling for miles. No other warm bodies pressed against my back. No arms encircling my waist. No brush of feathers along my skin.

The sheets were cold and lonely, warming under me as I shifted and settled. My grainy eyes watered from lack of sleep. I didn’t think I could sleep here…not in this bed…not alone. No, I couldn’t sleep…I couldn’t sle...