OUT OF HABIT, Warren reached for the gun he no longer kept tucked in his waistband, then used his arm to keep me corralled behind his back. But I wasn't moving. The last time I'd gotten close to that strange man, a train had been thrown at me. Who knows what might happen indoors. I kinda liked my house and didn't need it collapsing on top of me.

"Who are you?" Warren barked.

"Hey, you're home!" It was Azrael in the kitchen.

Warren looked around, confused. "What the hell?"

The man on the couch still hadn't moved or even glanced in our direction. He was staring at the fireplace. I wasn't even sure that he was breathing.

Azrael was wiping his hands with a dishtowel when he came into the living room. "Hi, guys!" He was downright chipper, and it freaked me out.

Warren pointed toward the man. "What's going on? What's he doing here?"

"I found him," Azrael said.

I stepped around to Warren's side. "And? Is this a lock-in at the Jordan residence? Am I running a halfway house for fallen angels now?"

Azrael shook his head. "He's not an angel. Well, not all of him, anyway."

I put my hands on my hips. "Explain, please."

"He's human."

"Then why can't I see a human spirit?" I asked.

"Go look at him. Really look at him," he said.

I stepped behind Warren again. "I don't wanna."

Sighing heavily, Azrael grabbed my arm and dragged me into the living room. "He won't bite."

"No, he'll just chuck a train at my face."

"I don't think that was his doing." Azrael rounded the couch and walked in front of the man.

He was a lot younger than I'd originally thought. Maybe in his early forties, judging from the salt and pepper scruff on his jaw. It appeared to be there from neglect, not because it was trendy. His clothes weren't a fashion choice either. He wore a Chicago Cubs pullover with worn elbows, and acid washed jeans that were a couple of sizes too big and still sporting the color-coded tags of a secondhand store.

But his brown eyes were what captivated my attention. They were hollow and empty, except deep in the pupils where I caught tiny shimmers of life, like rays of a golden sunset trapped on a speck of glitter.

Suddenly, his eyes focused on mine.

My spine tingled, and I took a step back.

"Eh ta kahl morteira," he said.

Azrael looked at me. "He says he thought you were dead."

"I thought he was too." My hands were trembling slightly. "He's a human that speaks your language. Does that mean…" I gulped.

"He was taken."

I fanned my face, suddenly feeling very warm.

"Right now you're talking to Lamal, an Angel of Prophecy. I haven't yet figured out who the gentleman is."

"Is his head going to start spinning around?" I asked.

Azrael reached out and jostled the man's head gently. "It feels pretty sturdy to me."

The man glared at Azrael and spoke to him again in Katavukai. It gave me chills.

Azrael ignored him.

"Why did you bring him here?" Warren asked, walking over to us.

"For Sloan."

My head bobbed a little frantically. "Thanks, but next time a t-shirt is a good option for a souvenir."

Azrael rubbed his palms together with excitement. "He's your next lesson."

I shook my head. "I don't like where this is going."

Azrael smiled like he'd awarded me a prize. "You're going to learn to separate the angel from the human!"

"Exorcism?" Warren crossed his arms. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

"No." I was adamantly shaking my head.

Azrael began to pace the living room. "Sloan, this is what you want. You want to help people." He pointed to the man on the couch. "This man needs your help."

"Then you should help him," I said, turning and stomping off toward the kitchen.

Warren followed me, and Azrael walked in behind him. "Sloan, this isn't a request. You need to learn how to do this," Azrael said.

I spun around on my heel, throwing my arms up into the air. "Why? Why do I need to learn to do this?"

Azrael put his hands on my shoulders. "For the sake of argument, let's assume this angel did try to kill you in the train station. Now, you have the power to destroy the angel. How would you feel knowing you destroyed an innocent man as well?" His eyes were pleading. "There's a person locked away inside that body. Would you really sentence him to die simply because you're afraid to learn how to save him?"

I hated it when Azrael was right. I looked over his shoulder at the man sitting on my sofa, and I couldn't help but wonder if he had a family back in Chicago somewhere. What had his life been like before it was taken from him? Could he have a life again if I could set him free?

Azrael knew he was winning, and he took a step closer. "What if you'd been there the night Phenex took Marisol's daughter Maria? Would you have saved her if you knew you could?"

I shoved him in the shoulders. "I really hate you sometimes."

Warren's face was screwed up with doubt. "Why is he being so compliant if he knows you brought him here to destroy him?"

With that, the man jumped from the couch and stormed toward the kitchen. I ducked behind Warren as the man shouted in Katavukai. "Keshta kor te lateva. Ninkai velita ventum—"

Azrael waved him off. "Calm down. She's not going to destroy you."

The man's glare shot to me.

I held up my hands in defense. "I'm not doing anything."

Azrael pulled out a chair at the dinette table in the kitchen and slid it toward me. "Can we sit and discuss this?"

I sighed and sat in the chair. Warren sat next to me, and Lamal retreated to the living room. Azrael carried a sandwich he'd been preparing on the counter over to the table with us.

"In 2008, Lamal did something very stupid," Azrael began. "And recently, it put him on the shit list of some very dangerous angels."

"What did he do?" Warren asked.

Azrael shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich. "That's not relevant here," he said around a mouthful before swallowing. "What is important is that for the past several months, Lamal has been in hiding. He sought you out in Chicago because he knows that without your help, he's worse off than dead."

I dropped my elbows on the table and cradled my skull in my hands. "I don't understand. What do I have to do with anything?"

"When an angel takes a human as a host, they can go dormant and hide behind the host's spirit. They disappear off the radar of angels and are almost completely undetectable by us," he said.

"I don't understand," I admitted.

Azrael looked at Warren. "Where's Reuel right now?"

Warren pointed toward the ceiling. "Upstairs in the guest room."

Azrael moved his finger between himself and Warren. "You and I know Reuel is upstairs because we can feel him there. He's not of this world, so his presence in it makes waves that our senses can detect."

Warren gave a slight nod.

Azrael looked at me. "The same goes for Lamal. Right now, we can feel him sitting in the other room."

"Hey, don't leave me out of this. I can feel him sitting in the other room too, you know," I said.

Azrael's head pulled back. "You can?"

I nodded. "Now I can. I couldn't when we first got here."

He slowly clapped his hands. "I'm so proud of you, Sloan. That's really amazing."

I felt like a circus monkey who'd just figured out its first set of tambourines. "Yay me," I said with a smirk.

"That's really good though. It means you're getting stronger. Remember, your power will grow as the baby does," he said.

"So you're really not proud of me at all," I said. "You're proud of your granddaughter."

He smiled like he suddenly realized I was right. "Exactly."

"Ugh."

Warren snapped his fingers. "Let's stay focused, please. Are you saying we couldn't feel Lamal here when we came into the house because he was dormant?"

Azrael smiled; he really was proud of Warren. "That's correct. Imagine a really long game of 1, 2, 3 Quiet and Still." He pointed his turkey on wheat toward the sofa. "That's what Lamal has been doing for many months now. Staying very small and very still, hiding in the darkness of that dude's body."

"If he doesn't want to be there anymore, why doesn't he leave?" I asked.

"Yeah," Warren said. "Why does he need Sloan?"

Azrael shook his head. "For starters, he can't leave on his own until the host dies. Not without the help of the Vitamorte."

"Why can't you help him?" I asked.

Azrael grinned and aimed his voice toward the living room. "Well, mostly because I don't want to."

The angel in the other room muttered something that carried a smart-ass tone.

Azrael didn't respond. "And I would have to kill the host to free him. The host needs you."

"Where did he get the host?" I asked.

"I have no idea. He was probably a bum with a drug problem, living on the streets somewhere in Chicago. They make easy targets."

I huffed. "You're so insensitive."

He nodded. "Yes, I'm aware. But the guy being a bum doesn't mean he deserves to live subject to the whims of a babbling, self-serving angel with elaborate daydreams."

"You just said Lamal has been quiet and still," I reminded him.

"He has been. Most of the time. A few days ago, however, he decided to take his host to Jackson Station and wound up in the flight path of a train."

"You think Lamal caused the wreck?" I asked.

Azrael shook his head. "I think the train was intended for him. Not you."

I shoved him in the shoulder. "So it wasn't my fault?"

"I don't think so. Once I found out who the man in the red toboggan was harboring, I changed my mind."

"I think you owe me an apology," I said.

"Think all you want; it obviously doesn't do you much good."

I thought about kicking him under the table.

Warren sat back and folded his arms across his chest. The slant of his eyes told me that he knew, like I did, that information was being withheld from us. "Why don't you want to help Lamal?"

"Let's say he was a very powerful catalyst in our entire situation. We might not be in our current predicament if he were better at keeping his mouth shut," Azrael said.

Lamal began to speak again, but Azrael continued talking over him. "But he claims he wants to make amends and help us, so the first thing he can do to help is to be a learning aid. Then when he's been freed, I'll think about protecting him."

"Is he a demon?" I asked.

Azrael chewed another bite of his sandwich, looking up at my ceiling as he pondered the question. That was never a good sign. "You use the word 'demon' like we make a choice and suddenly become a completely different entity. That we morph into something wicked with a tail and scales that are somehow hidden from mortal eyes like yours."

He was mocking me. Again.

"Do you trust him?" Warren asked.

Azrael laughed. "Hell no." He put the crust of his sandwich back on the paper towel and wadded it all up into a ball. "But just because I don't trust him doesn't mean I'm not willing to use him for my greater purpose."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Which is?"

He tossed the paper towel across the kitchen toward the garbage can with perfect free throw follow-through. It was a slam dunk. Then he turned back to answer my question.

"To save the world, my dear. Of course." He settled back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "That begins with teaching you how to destroy an angel without getting anyone killed."

Lamal jumped up again, babbling like he had before when the word 'destroy' came up in the conversation. Azrael stood and walked into the other room, this time to physically subdue him back to his couch cushion.

It was hard to argue with the logic of me learning anything that would keep people safe, but the thought of getting Lamal out of that man conjured up images of levitating little girls and projectile pea soup. I ran my hands down my face, pulling my mouth into an exaggerated frown. "This is too much," I said to Warren.

He reached over and squeezed my arm. "I'm not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"You might not, but he will," I said, pointing to Azrael.

"Maybe you're making this worse in your mind than it actually is. It's probably easier than you think." He leaned toward me. "And it's definitely not going to be like Hollywood."

"How do you know?" I asked. "Because the last six months of my life would make one hell of a blockbuster."

He slid his hand up to my neck and pulled me close till our foreheads touched. "You can do this, Sloan. I know you can."

"I'm glad you have so much faith in me. I'm not sure anyone else does, me included." Suddenly, I straightened and cut my eyes at him. "Wait a second. Did Azrael command you to convince me to do this?"

Warren's eyes widened just enough.

I gasped and pointed at him. "No! No. No." I got up, pushing my chair backward so that it slid across the tiles with a long squeak. "You can't do that to me!"

He stood and reached for me. "Sloan, come on. Don't get upset—"

I marched into the living room and around to where Azrael was talking to Lamal. I shoved him back a step, and he sat when his legs hit the couch. "You're not allowed to manipulate mine and Warren's relationship. You stay out of it!"

Spinning on my heel, I stormed off toward the stairs. Azrael moved to come after me and the couch farted.

Phwaaaaawert…

I was so mad I couldn't even laugh.

* * *

I'd washed my face, brushed my teeth, and changed into my pajamas by the time Warren finally came upstairs. I was crawling under the covers when he walked in and eased the door closed behind him. "Can we talk?"

"You can talk," I said, pulling the blanket up to my chin and then tucking it in under my thighs to make it clear that our unfinished business from the car would not be revisited. "I may or may not listen."

He came over and sat beside me. "You have that choice. I don't anymore. Not with him."

I slammed my fists against the mattress. "Sometimes I really, really hate him, Warren."

"I can tell." He stretched one arm across my lap and leaned toward me. "Please don't start hating me too."

My head flopped back against the headboard with a thud. "I'm not, but this isn't fair. He can't interfere with us."

He touched his chest. "You know I agree, right?"

I nodded. "I know, but it's going to cause really big problems for us if I can't trust you," I said. "And that's exactly what this is."

The angry muscle twitched.

I touched his face. "I don't want to ever question if you're telling me the truth or you're telling me what he's making you tell me."

He sighed. "I didn't think about it that way. I'm really sorry."

"We have to talk to him about this."

"We will." He pushed my hair behind my ear. "Tomorrow. We'll sit and talk to him tomorrow."

I put my arms around his neck and hugged him. If there were a contest for staying mad at Warren Parish, I'd be sent home without even a participation ribbon.

"Can I ask you an honest question?" I asked with my chin still resting on his shoulder.

He pulled back to look at me. "Of course."

"Leaving Azrael out of this for a second, do you believe I should help that man?" I dropped my hands to his forearms. "Because if you didn't immediately get defensive about Azrael forcing you to talk to me, then you must have agreed with him on some level."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes. I think you should help anyone that's in your power to help."

"But you know as well as I do that's not what this is about. That's Azrael's con line to get me to do it," I said.

He nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't make it untrue. That man doesn't deserve to have Lamal in control of him whenever he wants."

I sighed. "I know. It just freaks me out."

"Any more than healing Reuel's filleted arm or bringing Nate back from the dead?"

He had a point, and I immediately felt bad about it. Would I have been more willing to overcome my fear had the man been a friend? Or even a cute little stranger like Amalia?

"I'll do it, but don't tell Azrael tonight. I need one more good night's sleep without bad dreams."

Smiling, he stood and unbuttoned his shirt. "Who the hell says you're getting any sleep?"

* * *

I pushed up my sleeves and shook out my hands to loosen them up. Then I jogged in place for a second and bounced a couple of times up onto the balls of my feet.

Azrael bit his lower lip and crossed his arms. "Are you about done?"

I planted my feet, sucked in a deep breath, and rubbed my palms together. "Now I'm done. I'm ready. Let's do this."

Across my living room, Lamal was sweating nervously through his host. His eyes darted back and forth between me and Azrael. "Nan itea ceyai vitaluyar."

I wasn't sure what he said, but his shaky tone did nothing for my confidence. On the couch that was pushed back against the back door out of the way, Reuel chuckled to himself.

"You've got this, babe," Warren said from his perch atop the back of the love seat. He caught my eye and winked.

Azrael grasped the front of my hoodie and pulled me forward across the living room until I was almost nose to nose with Lamal. "I want you to focus on the man. Lamal, what's your host's name?"

Lamal was still staring at me, terrified.

Azrael thumped him on the forehead. "Hello? What's your host's name?"

"Jesse."

It was startling to hear the angel say something I could understand.

"Sloan, can you see Jesse?" Azrael asked.

I looked for the glint of life in his eye again. For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw something, but it flickered out so quickly I couldn't be sure.

Azrael nudged the man's arm. "Help her out, Lamal."

A low squeak came from the man's throat. His eyes were even wider now.

"This was your choice, Lamal. Time to grow a pair," Azrael said, nudging him harder the second time.

The man's eyes closed. When they slowly reopened, I jolted upright. "Hi, Jesse."

Jesse looked around bewildered. "Where am I?"

The fear in Jesse's eyes was different from when I was looking at Lamal. It was coupled with confusion, which broke my heart. The poor guy had no idea where he was or who we all were. If Azrael knew me at all, he would've started his appeal like this the night before.

I put a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Jesse, you're OK. My name is Sloan, and you're at my house. I'm going to help you get home."

His eyes landed on Azrael and he panicked. Clambering backward, he tripped into the mantle and knocked the framed photo of my parents off, shattering the glass all over the floor. Without thinking, I gripped him with my power before he stuck his leg into the crackling blaze in the fireplace and set himself on fire.

I gently pulled him toward me, back to safety.

"Jesse, I need you to listen to me," I said. "No one here is going to hurt you."

Azrael leaned in my direction and lowered his voice. "Nothing says that more than holding him immobile against his will."

I put my hands up. "I don't want you to hurt yourself. Can I let you go?"

He nodded slightly.

Slowly, I eased my grip around his body. Without a word, he took off running. He grabbed the front door handle, threw it back, and jumped off the porch before sprinting down the sidewalk out of view.

The room erupted in laughter.

Azrael turned toward me with both thumbs up. "Good job. That was impressive."

"She did get Lamal out of here," Warren pointed out.

Reuel slapped Warren on the chest using his good arm. "Peyotum, utaiyar. Enai se, kor?"

Azrael doubled over laughing. "Bona." He looked at me. "Reuel says Exorcise, exercise…same thing, right?

I crossed my arms with a huff. "How do we get him back?"

Outside, heavy footfalls on the porch turned our heads. Jesse—or Lamal, rather—trudged back inside and slammed the door closed. "Tivira?" he asked.

I didn't need a translator to know that meant 'are you kidding me?' or something similar in Katavukai.

Azrael chuckled again. "It's her first time. Cut her some slack."

Warren walked to the kitchen and returned with a broom and dust pan. He cleaned up the glass while Azrael squared Lamal's shoulders again in front of me.

"Can you see Jesse now without us having to put him at the helm?" Azrael asked me, taking a step back by my side.

"Yes." It was much easier to find Jesse's spirit once I knew exactly what I was looking for.

He gripped my shoulder. "I want you to focus on sending life into Jesse. Send all your healing power into him, and only him."

"How will I know if I'm doing it correctly?" I asked.

"Lamal won't feel it," he said.

I nodded and closed my eyes. I placed my hands on the man's chest and focused on Jesse in my mind. On cue, my palm came alive with power and warmed against his torso.

"Nan. Akai kiren."

I opened my eyes. Lamal was shaking his head.

With my gaze locked on his, I found Jesse in his eyes and sent my power again.

"Nan," Lamal said after only a few seconds.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I focused. I healed. Lamal said, "Nan."

Actually, he threw my hand back at me and shouted, "Nan! Akai toda kiren!" He walked away from me, furiously shaking his head. "Eshta. Nakal ceyren!"

"No one promised you this was going to be easy," Azrael told him.

"Naru entam nakal nurir ep tai kuri!"

Azrael fired back at him in Katavukai so I tuned him out and looked at Warren. "Do you think we need to be here while they fight about this? I'm starving."

He stood. "Sounds good to me. Reuel?"

Reuel got up and patted his stomach with a smile. I walked over to him. "Before we go, let me see your hand."

Warren cringed. "You sure you want to do that right before we eat?"

I nodded and began unwrapping his bandages. "It will be fine."

Just then, a loud crack of thunder from an angel crossing the spirit line rattled the windows of my house.

"Oh my god." I was panting, trying to breathe.

Azrael moved to the window with the precision of a jungle cat. "Reuel, take the back. Warren, kitchen window. Now."

The only person left for me to hide behind was Jesse-Lamal, and I did.

We all watched and waited. The sudden silence was deafening. Until…

The song "Stayin' Alive" played through my house.

Azrael began fumbling for his cell phone.

"What the hell is that?" Warren asked from his post at the kitchen window.

The music continued.

Reuel was slumped over the back of the couch with his face buried in his good arm, laughing loudly.

Azrael finally found the phone in his back pocket and stopped the song by answering the call. "What?" he barked into the speaker.

I could only see Warren's back in the kitchen, but he was shaking with silent laughter. Had I not been scared out of my mind, I would have been laughing too. Or perhaps I was laughing on the inside and that was part of the reason I was trembling so much.

"We have movement here. Where are you?" Azrael asked whoever was on the phone. He paused. "OK. Wait for my signal."

"What do you see, Az?" Warren asked. "Oh, wait, I see him. Is that…?"

"The Destroyer."