EVEN FROM ACROSS the room, I felt Abaddon's solid fist pound against my front door. The door clattered against its hinges with each blow. "Tiranta, Azrael!" His booming voice made me jump despite the wall and the space between us.

Warren returned from the living room, and I ran into his arms.

"Abaddon, I know The Morning Star sent you, but this isn't even your fight. Stay out of it!"

"You stay out of my way. Open the door!"

Azrael pulled the door open, and Abaddon walked in without an invitation, bending and turning slightly to the side to inch past the six-and-a-half-foot door frame. My jaw plunged. The only time I'd seen him before was in the woods with the backdrop of fully-grown pines as his only comparable measure.

"Since when are you the hired help?" Azrael asked. "Is the pit not exciting enough for you anymore?"

Abaddon paid him no attention as his eyes swept the room before locking on mine. Warren's grasp tightened around me. I expected Abaddon to charge us and take me like I was Ann Darrow being plucked from the streets of New York by King Kong.

But he didn't.

Instead, he crossed the living room toward Lamal in three strides. "We've been looking for you." He grabbed a fistful of Lamal's jacket and backed him up against the wall. Then he lifted the man at least six inches off the floor before slamming him back so hard that he cracked the drywall.

Lamal began pleading with him in Katavukai.

Abaddon snarled to shut him up. "You were a fool to show your face, Lamal. Did you not think I would be watching? Waiting for you?"

"Abaddon!" Azrael bellowed.

"What?" The demon spun around.

The front door was wide open. Azrael motioned to it. "Put him down and get out. I'm not going to say it again."

Abaddon laughed, sounding a bit like Santa Claus. Only instead of "Ho! Ho! Ho!" it was "Ha! Ha! Ha!" He held up a hand. "Azrael, you know I love a good fight with you, but I have no time to humor you today."

"All right. Have it your way," Azrael said with an annoyed sigh. "No fight it is."

Azrael quickly twisted, throwing his hand forward in the direction of Abaddon's unsuspecting face. An invisible blow sent The Destroyer flying backward. He crashed through the living room wall, then took out the railing of the back porch before landing in a pile on the lawn. Through the gaping Abaddon-sized hole left in my living room, I could see an army in my backyard with assault rifles trained on the stunned fallen angel.

Abaddon pushed himself up and stood. He pointed at Az. "I'm going to break you," he threatened.

Azrael shook his head and walked through the hole out into the cold. We cautiously followed him. "Not today you won't."

Abaddon dismissed the group of at least fifteen soldiers with a wave of his huge hand. "You know they can't kill me."

Azrael shrugged. "True, but they can slow you down long enough so she can kill you." He pointed at me.

I gulped and gripped Warren's arm.

Abaddon did his Santa laugh again, but he didn't argue. He also didn't come after any of us. "This isn't finished, Azrael."

"I'd be disappointed if it was," Azrael said.

With a loud crack, Abaddon vanished, and the force shook the broken wall behind us so hard that a large damaged piece of the framing splintered and snapped in half. When it did, several boards came clanging down behind us. Warren moved me out of the way to spare my bare feet from impact.

"Well, if we ever wondered why they call him The Destroyer, now we know," Warren said, draping an arm around my shoulders.

I let out a heavy sigh.

Next door, my neighbor, Wilda Gillespie, was peeking through her blinds. When she caught my eye, the slats snapped shut.

"I'm going to hear from my HOA about this," I said, shaking my head.

"You're going to hear from the police about this," Warren corrected.

Azrael's men lowered their weapons, and he walked out into the yard to talk to them. They were all dressed for war in multi-cam fatigues and combat boots. I recognized Kane from the Calfkiller River battle. He was a member of SF-12, Azrael's personal combat team made up of angels and humans, including a few humans with the ability to see the supernatural. Kane was one of those.

"How'd they get here so fast?" I asked.

Warren turned my shoulders to the left and pointed. "Az bought that house with the tan siding. He didn't want to tell you because he was afraid you might freak out."

I whirled around toward him. "I don't freak out!" As soon as the words left my mouth at the volume they did, I closed my lips and nodded my head. "OK, I might have freaked out."

He smiled and kissed my forehead. "He's done a lot more than you know around here to keep you safe. Half of Claymore is stationed in different places around this city now, I think."

"Under what direction?" I asked. "I doubt the real reason is printed in the company newsletter."

He shook his head. "They don't have a company newsletter."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're labeled as a low profile, high value asset."

"I feel so special." I turned back to my broken house. "What are we going to do? How am I going to explain this to the insurance company?"

"We'll figure it out. Maybe it's time to start looking for that bigger place," he said.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out and saw Nathan's picture on the screen. He was sticking his tongue out at the camera. "Hello?"

"Why is your address coming over my radio?"

My nose wrinkled. "It's bad that you don't even sound worried or surprised anymore."

"You're telling me. What happened? People are calling in an explosion."

"Azrael threw Abaddon, The Destroyer, through my living room wall."

"Everyone OK?"

I sighed. "Yeah. We're fine. Nobody was hurt this time."

"Well, that's an improvement at least. I'll be there soon," he said.

"Nathan, what do I tell the police?"

He laughed. "I have no idea."

I heard the sirens before I even got my phone tucked back in my pocket. Azrael's men cut through the neighbor's yard and returned to the tan house. The three of us went back inside to greet the police.

Lamal was sitting against the wall by the fireplace with his knees pulled up to his chin. I walked over to him. "Are you all right?"

He nodded but didn't meet my eyes.

The doorbell rang.

"Let me do the talking," Azrael said.

"Gladly."

Azrael opened the door. Two uniformed sheriff's deputies stood on my porch. I recognized both of them, but nothing in me wanted to go over and say hello. The only thing that would come out of my interaction with them would be for my bruised face to put Warren on some sort of domestic violence watch list.

Instead, I sat next to Lamal. "Why are they after you? What did you do that would make them send Abaddon after you?"

He looked over his shoulder at me. "Nakai lleshta."

My shoulders slumped. "That's right. You can't tell me, can you?"

He shook his head. "Et akai vishta, Praea." Then he grabbed my hand and the world swirled away.

* * *

Suddenly, I was no longer sitting in my living room. I was walking down a long, crowded corridor that stretched out in front of me. It was an airport terminal with hurried travelers dragging suitcases behind them. A man passed by me, gesturing wildly as he shouted into a cell phone. A janitor near the bathroom was shaking out a trash bag. A woman was holding a red-faced, screaming toddler.

I wondered where I was going.

My legs were moving, though I didn't seem to be controlling them. I'd never seen the shoes on my feet before. I checked the paper ticket in my hand.

American Airlines Flight 209.

From: Charlotte. To: San Antonio.

Passenger Name: Abigail Smith.

Abigail Smith?

I blinked, and when I reopened my eyes the scene had changed.

The sun beat down on my business suit as I followed a sidewalk. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine, and I knew immediately I was in Texas. I turned a corner and saw a brick church with a tall, black steeple. I'd seen it before but couldn't remember when or where.

The chatter of young girls caught my attention to the left, and I followed the sound. In the grass was a tall sign with bright green letters. Morning Star Ministries.

I wanted to run away, but once again my legs were on auto-pilot.

Three teenage girls were being led into the ministry through the glass front entry doors. The blonde ushering them inside, I'd met her before. She smiled when she saw me and held the door until I approached. "Good morning, Ms. Smith."

Wait? Could I be…? No, it's not possible, I thought.

I blinked, and the scene changed again.

Larry Mendez, the most evil man I'd ever met, stormed into the room where I sat at a cherry wood desk. The nameplate on the door he threw open said Abigail Smith.

He pulled a teenage girl by the arm behind him. Her face was red and streaked with tears. He shoved her toward the floor by my chair. She crumpled onto the carpet and pulled her knees up to her chin so she could hide behind them.

Part of me desperately wanted to grab her and pull her into my arms. Another part, feelings that felt foreign and wrong, was absolutely indifferent to the child. I simply didn't care.

I reached toward a heavy ceramic planter that held a hearty fern. I wished I could hurl it at Larry's head. I didn't. I pulled a dead leaf off and dropped it in the wastebasket at my feet.

I blinked.

Marisol Juarez was sitting on a sofa cradling a young girl in her arms. The girl's face was swollen with a large cut across her cheek that had been closed with a butterfly bandage. My gratitude for Marisol's kindness was quickly met with a surge of unfamiliar rage. I watched helplessly as the hand that was attached to the body that carried me, reached out and backhanded the woman across the face.

I blinked again.

A young girl walked beside me up the staircase of the abandoned factory we had visited in downtown Chicago. It took me a second to realize the girl was Phenex. She was speaking quickly in Katavukai and gesturing wildly with her hands.

We walked into the lab where several people in scrubs and lab coats were working. Phenex pulled me toward one of the exam rooms, and when she opened the door, I saw a dead girl on the bed.

It was Natalia. And I felt happy…

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" Azrael shouted over my head.

I rubbed my face. I was back in my demolished living room, sitting on the floor with Lamal. "What happened?"

"What did he show you?" Azrael demanded.

Remembering what I'd seen, I covered my mouth and gasped. I scurried away from Lamal. "You caused all this!"

He began a passionate rebuttal in Katavukai, but Azrael silenced him with a hand. "Save it, Lamal."

Warren steadied me by the shoulders. I'd started to cry without realizing it. "Sloan, what's the matter?" he asked, carefully studying my face.

I looked at Azrael. "You said he's an Angel of Prophecy, right?"

Azrael nodded and cast his eyes at the floor.

"He showed the future to Kasyade. I saw it. I saw it all through her eyes," I said to Warren. "He set this whole plan in motion. The ministry in Texas. The sex slavery. The biological weapons…all of it. That's why they want to kill him now, isn't it? Because it all fell apart and he didn't warn them!"

Lamal took a step toward us, but Azrael used his power to pin the angel against the wall.

"And you!" I shouted, stepping around Warren toward Azrael. "You wanted me to save him! Are you serious? No wonder you tried to keep it from us!"

Azrael put up his hands. "I did try to keep it from you because I didn't want what he did to overshadow the truth that Jesse deserves to be free." He pointed at Lamal. "Jesse deserves your help. Not Lamal."

Lamal stalked to the kitchen and sat with his back to us at the kitchen table.

Warren pulled me close, and I felt my body trembling against his. "Take a minute and catch your breath." He stroked my hair. "Breathe."

But my minute was cut short by a knock at the open front door. We all looked over as Nathan walked in with wide eyes. "I hear someone's been disturbing the peace around here."

I had completely forgotten about the police force that had gathered outside. "What did you tell them?" I asked, looking up at Warren.

Nathan walked over with a grin. "A DIY home remodeling project, was it?"

Warren shrugged. "It could happen."

"What about the 'army men with guns' that your neighbor next door reported?" Nathan asked.

"We don't know what she's talking about. That old bird is crazy," Azrael replied.

Nathan folded his arms and nodded. "Yeah, the whole department thinks she's nuts. She calls and complains about all sorts of insane stuff around here: men coming and going at all hours, the police showing up all the time." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "She even called one time and said she saw a man disappear into thin air."

He was making fun of me.

"Do they believe her?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, I'm serious. They all think she's a loon." He crossed the room and surveyed the hole in the wall. "Az, you really threw the big guy through this?"

"I did."

"I'm impressed." Nathan turned back to us. "What was he doing here? Did he come after Sloan?"

I shook my head and pointed at Lamal. "He came after Lamal."

Nathan followed my finger. "And who is he?"

"The guy from Chicago who we thought caused the train accident," Warren said. "He didn't."

Lamal looked back over his shoulder and his eyes doubled when they landed on Nathan. He jumped up from the table and ran toward him.

"Whoa!" Nathan shouted, stepping sideways to dodge him.

Lamal grabbed Nathan's arm, then reached wildly for me. Warren moved me away from him and deflected Lamal with his arm.

Azrael spoke to Reuel, then Reuel walked over and used his good hand to grasp Lamal by the back of his jacket. He carried him out through the hole in the back wall and tossed him off the porch. I couldn't help but smile.

Nathan held his hands up. "What the hell was that about?"

Warren sighed. "It's a long story."

"Is he dangerous?" Nathan asked.

"Not physically," Azrael answered.

Nathan scratched his head. "Well, there's been a train accident and now a house demolition involving him. I'd say he's bad luck either way. Not to mention he's freaking creepy."

"I agree," I said.

"Angel or human?" Nathan asked.

"Both," Warren and I said at the same time.

Nathan laughed and shook his head. "I don't even want to know." He walked toward the door. "If you guys need a place to crash while the wall is being fixed, you're welcome to stay with me."

"You don't even have a couch to sleep on," I reminded him.

He nodded. "True, but I'll be gone after Friday and won't need my bed for a while."

The thought of sleeping in Nathan's bed with Warren was weird, to say the least. "Thanks, but we can stay with my dad if we need to."

He walked to the door. "All right. If you need anything, let me know. We still on for Friday?"

"Yep. Seven o'clock," I replied.

"See you there."

* * *

We met with a contractor that afternoon about fixing the wall. He said it would take about a week to repair all the damage. In the meantime, he boarded it up with plywood so we didn't have to leave home. It was cold in the house, but I was thankful we could stay.

For the rest of the day, Azrael locked Lamal in the guest room. He didn't mention him to me again either, which I was thankful for. The charity and goodness of my heart were still overridden by the desire to see Lamal punished, and with that kind of attitude, I could be no help to Jesse.

The central heat in my house couldn't keep up with the rate at which the warmth from the vents was hemorrhaging out the back wall downstairs. I snuggled as close to Warren as possible under all the blankets I owned.

"You've been quiet today," he said softly in my ear.

I nodded. "I know. That vision with Lamal screwed me up a little."

He tightened his arm around me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I honestly don't even know where to begin."

"Well, what was it like?" he asked. "Was it like a dream? A hallucination?"

"Maybe. Sort of." I thought about it for a second. "Did you ever have a View-Master as a kid?"

"A what?"

"It was a toy. It looked like a red pair of binoculars, and it had a cardboard wheel with tiny pictures on it that you could insert in the top of it. When you pulled the handle on the side, it would change the picture," I explained.

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about. I never had one though," he said.

"It was kind of like that. It seemed that every time I blinked my eyes, the scene would change." I hesitated for a second. "Only, I wasn't simply watching. It was like I was trapped inside Kasyade's body. It was like I was her."

"But you're not her."

"I know, but I felt what she felt." I hugged my pillow. "Warren, I saw the girl who died in the lab, Natalia. I saw her lying there. Gray skin, hollow eyes. And I was glad."

He gently jostled my shoulders. "You weren't glad. Those weren't your feelings, Sloan."

"It felt like my feelings," I said. "It was like a nightmare that I couldn't control."

He rested his cheek against the back of my head. "That's exactly what it was. It wasn't real."

"Oh, but it was."

He sighed. "But your involvement in it wasn't real. You had nothing to do with it."

"I keep trying to tell myself that," I said. "I just want to go to sleep."

"I can help with that."

I frowned. "Warren, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm really not in the mood tonight."

He laughed. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" I asked.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

I did, and I immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Stark white walls. A cheap wooden desk made out of particle board. A large corkboard mounted in front of me with photos. Photos of dead girls. I recognized their faces. Ashley McNamara, Melissa Jennings, Angela Kearn, Leslie Bryson…

All of Billy Stewart's victims.

A hand reached toward the mouse for the computer on the desk. A man's hand. I clicked a notification on the desktop and an email window popped open.

Nate, this came through our office this morning. Might want to add it to your list. Rachel Smith, missing since 11–27. See attached. - Mike.

I clicked open the attached document, a standard missing person's report. There was a photo of Kasyade in the top left corner. Name: Rachel Smith. 24. Reported missing by co-workers at Child Protective Services in Greensboro, NC…

I blinked.

"Welcome to the department, Detective McNamara." Sheriff Davis handed me a badge and shook my hand. His grip was stronger than I remembered.

Over his shoulder, a woman in the back row looked like she might pass out. Whoa. It was me. Why is my face so pale? Right, we were inside the jail at Nathan's swearing-in ceremony.

I blinked.

I pressed the doorbell. My doorbell at my front door. It opened. My heart was pounding inside my chest. Then I was standing there, looking at myself in the doorway, wearing Nathan's black S.W.A.T. team hoodie. I had a bag of my favorite food in one hand and a folder full of dead girls in the other. I realized I felt hopeful—terrified—as I walked through the door.

The scene skipped ahead and we were in the living room. I was looking at myself from the love seat, holding a picture of Ashley. I'd spewed grits all over Nathan's lap. I reached over and put my hand on his, and when I did, I realized that Nathan forgot to breathe.

I blinked and we were in his office. I was looking over my own shoulder at the desk. I showed me a photo of Kasyade, then leaned close to my head. The scent of my lavender shampoo was making Nathan dizzy.

I blinked.

We were on a path in the woods. Nathan was following me and Warren; we were holding hands. It was Butner Falls. The vision flashed forward and suddenly we were somewhere else. Warren was up ahead, and dangling off his finger was a jawbone. Ashley's jawbone. Nathan threw up a little in his mouth.

I blinked.

The room was dark, but I knew exactly where we were. Nathan's old bedroom at his parents' house in Durham. I also knew that the heavy weight I felt on Nathan's chest was my own head. His fingers were tangled in my hair. "Please, don't. Please, don't say it." It was like I was saying the words and hearing them again at the same time.

So much emotion was surging through Nathan that it was hard to tell where my thoughts ended and his began. "I can handle being shot at and having my body broken in half by a demon," he was saying, "but I can't stand hearing you tell me you love me."

I closed my eyes and began to cry.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a campfire. Azrael was there with his feet propped up on a rock talking to Enzo. Across the Calfkiller clearing there was a trailer that I knew I was inside with Warren. Nathan sucked in a painfully deep breath in an attempt to quell the anxiety churning in his chest. He was turning something over in his fingers. He looked at it.

My silver angel pin sparkled up at him. I thought I'd lost it in our accident the night we almost drowned in the river.

I blinked.

The barrel of the rifle Agent Silvers was holding was pointed right at my face. BOOM! Warren dove in front of me.

"No!"

* * *

Warren was shaking me. "Sloan! Sloan, wake up!"

I bolted upright in the bed. Sweat poured down my face. In a sliver of moonlight through the room, I could see Lamal panting in the corner. Warren dove across the bed in his direction.

"Warren, stop!" I screamed.

Mid-lunge, Warren froze. I grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled him back.

Azrael threw the door open and turned on the light. It scalded my eyeballs. "You again!" He picked Lamal up off the ground with his power.

"Azrael, put him down!" I jumped off the bed and jumped between Azrael and Lamal. "I know why he did it!"

Azrael still held Lamal, but his eyes fell to me. "What are you talking about?"

I held my hands up. "I know why he showed the demons the vision." I glanced toward the ceiling where Lamal was suspended. "Please, put him down."

Azrael dropped his hand, and Lamal crashed to the ground.

I rushed over to help him. "Are you all right?"

He nodded and pushed himself up.

"I'm sorry we didn't give you a chance to explain," I said.

"Gratalis." I didn't need to understand him to recognize the relief in his countenance.

"What happened, Sloan?" Warren asked, swinging his legs off the bed.

I stepped back and sank down on the edge of the bed next to Warren. "He showed them the vision to send Kasyade to Texas at the right time. He knew Nathan was looking for Billy Stewart's victims. When she left, it put her on his radar. He knew Nathan would find me and that we could stop all this." I looked at Lamal. "And now you're being hunted by The Destroyer to pay for it, correct?"

He bowed his head in affirmation.

I don't think I'd ever seen Azrael so shocked. He looked at Lamal. "Verta?"

"Verta."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Azrael asked.

It was Lamal's turn to be shocked. His mouth dropped open with disbelief.

"Probably because you don't listen," I said.

Lamal gestured to me and nodded.

"You saw this for yourself?" Azrael asked. "This isn't just something he told you?"

"She was screaming in her sleep," Warren said. "She definitely saw something."

Azrael stared at the floor for a moment, then walked over to Lamal and offered his hand. "I'm sorry. I should have listened."

I wondered if Azrael's head might explode. I doubted that remorse was an emotion his brain was used to.

I looked at Lamal. "I'm going to help you, I promise."

He smiled for the first time since he got to my house.

"But not tonight." I pointed to my door. "Everyone out of my room. Humans need their sleep, remember?"

When they were gone, Warren settled back in the bed beside me. "Are you OK?"

I nodded. "I will be."

He snaked an arm around my waist. "I'm here if you want to talk."

I covered his arm with mine. "I know. Thank you."

But I didn't want to talk to Warren about what I'd seen, not most of it anyway. It wasn't fair to keep rehashing everything with Nathan, especially when we were so close to getting a clean break from him.

Unfortunately, I couldn't get my brain to shut off the replay. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Nathan's fingers turning my angel pin over and over. I'd thought it was lost forever; and Nathan had it the whole time.