Nate Temple casually leaned to the side in a lazy dodge, arms still folded across his chest. My spear flew past his shoulder, but I called it back before it could hit the wall behind him.

I didn’t release the fan, though, staring at him in disbelief.

“How did you—”

“I know a guy who has a…” he seemed to be searching for his answer, still grinning, “professional relationship with your Father David.” His face grew somber in a flash. “Callie, I need to tell you something—”

“It was you,” I whispered.

He blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You were at the hospital. Or your friend.”

He frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I studied him in silence, confused myself. Because I could tell he had no idea what I was talking about. “Father David was attacked. He’s in the hospital, and he had a visitor before I arrived. The man prayed and left.”

Nate looked very concerned. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Callie. I’ve never met Father David.” Before I could press him, he held up a hand. “And my friend is an old man,” he added. “Really, really old.” He waited until I finally nodded. “Is he okay?”

I let out a breath. I believed him. But that didn’t make me feel any better. I answered his question with another nod. Sensing I didn’t want to talk, because I was now wiping my eyes against the stupid tears clouding my vision, he began studying the room around me, giving me space. The fan continued to hover before me as I cleaned up my face. A few moments later, he cleared his throat. “I need to tell you something.” I turned, waiting. “The wolf from the auction was found dead. He was stabbed to death by a jagged piece of wood.” I gasped. That… ruined everything. Our plans… “He was last seen meeting with the vampires. To sell them something.” He met my eyes meaningfully.

I thought out loud. “Why would a wolf sell to the vampires?”

Nate shrugged. “I’ll do some digging. But something stinks about all this.”

I nodded, suddenly angry. My lead was dead, but at least we knew who he had sold his piece to. Then another thought hit me. I looked up at Nate. “Then we need to go after the vampires.” He nodded in agreement. “How do you know this?”

He pointed to his ears. “I listen. To the streets. You should never rely on only one source of information. I like to be thorough.” I found myself nodding without thinking. That was good advice. Relying on only one source of information had started this whole mess. The Vatican had given Roland faulty information, which ultimately led to his injury, and me tossed in the deep end of the pool without a life jacket. Nate was studying the room again, nodding to himself before speaking.

“You were very—”

“Good, I know.”

His eyes seemed to gather the light of the room, twinkling with amusement. “I was going to say precise.”

I met his smile with my own, but was distantly upset that he had been spying on me and that I hadn’t noticed. A small part of me seemed to catch his mood, against my will. He was being playful. Maybe he always wears that faint grin, I thought to myself, watching as he began to approach, studying the fan floating before me.

He moved like smoke. I don’t mean to say he moved fast, or was creeping around like a ninja or anything, he just walked. But the way he walked reminded me of smoke, unconsciously stepping around gravel without glancing down, not disturbing a single element of my training room. Of course, the Sisters would be down here later to clean up. At least, I think it was them who cleaned up. In the beginning of my training so many years ago, that task had fallen to me. But as my training progressed, I had less time for cleaning, what with school and my increased training regimen.

I realized he was almost immediately in front of me, now, staring down at my fan curiously, smoothly stepping in a circle to inspect all sides, as if he had completely forgotten the sweaty girl in yoga pants and a sports bra. My shirt was on the bench.

My face reddened further as that thought registered. Not my attire, but the fact that I had been annoyed he was more interested in my fan than me.

In a blink, I made the fan vanish. He sighed, tapping his lips as he finally met my gaze. “Where did you learn that?”

“The Lord provides,” I muttered, turning my back on him. I still hadn’t made my decision about Nate, and I had wanted peace and quiet to think, not the subject of my thoughts to come pester me.

“Right. The Lord.”

“Do you not believe?” I asked in my most pious tone.

That caught him up short. He studied me, now, no longer smiling. “That’s above my pay grade,” he finally said, but I sensed an ocean of conversation buried under the short response. Not as if he was purposely evading my question out of rudeness, or even cynicism, but as if that was a conversation he would have with someone he knew a lot better than he knew me. Maybe something he was still chewing over.

Which brought me up short.

Roland had trained me for years, and I had seen many supernaturals, or Freaks, as we were lovingly called, over the years. The dangerous ones, from a distance as he hunted them. But a few years ago, Roland had slowly begun to introduce me to… friendly Freaks. Those he trusted. Not his friends, but friendly to him. To the church.

Granted, my training had been biased, working for a church, but the whole religion thing seemed pretty cut and dried to me, even though it made me uncomfortable. I saw it much the same as vampires. Yes, I knew they were real, but that didn’t mean I wanted to go be friends with them, or begin worshipping them. It was more of a respectful acknowledgment.

And I had thought that most held the same view.

But Nate had seemed stunned to hear that there even was a church that fought the bad guys, and he seemed very in tune with the supernatural community, judging by his reactions at the auction, and Roland’s reaction to Nate himself.

He was supposedly well-known in the magical community. The damned shifter bear had even known of him. As had the vampire. And the Demon had fled rather than battle him. I hadn’t ever seen a Demonic creature run from Roland, and he worked for the church.

So, who was this wizard, obviously well-off, obviously strong, obviously well-known by both the good and bad guys, but who didn’t know about the Vatican Shepherds? It made no sense.

He was watching me as if trying to read my thoughts.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” he said. “On one condition.”

My gaze tightened. “I didn’t ask for a favor,” I managed not to actually growl as I said it, but I was angry at his tone, as if he had offered to do me a big favor. I took a breath, counting to three in my head. “I have no standing to negotiate. Work that out with Roland.”

“I don’t think you want to bring him into this negotiation.”

I blinked. “Why the hell wouldn’t I want to tell my boss about you trying to haggle with me?”

He looked on the verge of laughter. “If we get the Cruci-sticks, you owe me dinner. If we don’t…” he shrugged. “I doubt dinner would matter. Oh, and my book.”

I just stared at him. “Are you really hitting on me less than twelve hours after we met? After stalking me to my home and then stalking me here to the church? Bribing or extorting your way in through the doors to make it down here to a level only a handful of people know about?”

“One—million—dollars,” he said softly. I wanted to growl at him. He was obviously good for it, but I knew he wasn’t ever going to let me live it down. “I think a pleasant dinner is a fair trade. And you get your Cruci-sticks. Everything you wanted. For the price of an innocent dinner.”

“You shouldn’t call them that,” I said, referring to his nickname for the spear. “Smiting is a hobby of his.” I turned my back on him, heading to the bench where my water bottle and towel were. I quickly wiped my face and took a big drink, trying to calm myself. I had hoped he would be different, even though I had no reason to think so. I hardly knew him.

“Hey, you’re a church girl,” he said to my back, sounding suddenly curious. “Do you know the different ways to use smite in a sentence? It’s always bothered me, and… my friend was asking about it once,” he added, lamely.

I glanced over my shoulder, and then shook my head as I resumed wiping away my sweat. I heard him sigh behind me, but he didn’t follow me to the bench.

After the Demon encounter and Father David’s attack, it was becoming blatantly obvious that I needed Nate’s help. And he had made the dinner sound innocent. But even if it had been a ploy for a date, I did need his help in this. Roland was out of the race, and I was liable to break down at the worst possible moment if that stupid memory crept up on me. If gaining his help cost me to suffer for an hour, it was worth it. Besides, he had things to teach me. Magic and self-confidence. Those whips had looked pretty handy.

“Fine,” I said, my back still turned to him. But I heard the door closing from the opposite side of the room the moment I spoke. I spun, eyes wide. What the hell? Had I pissed him off by not answering his asinine smiting question?

I tore through the training room, bursting through the doors. No one stood in the hallway, so I pounded up the old stone steps, racing through three flights of spiraling stairs before I came to a digital scanner on the wall. I slapped my sweaty palm against it, impatiently waiting as it read my biometric signature. The door whisked open and I let the dilapidated-seeming door close behind me, leaving me in a side corridor of the church. Nothing moved. I bolted through a side door, the overcast clouds much brighter than the gloomy dungeon I had been in for the past hour.

I didn’t run head-first into a Demon, but I did find Nate leaning against a tree, eating an apple. Two Sisters walked the grounds, not far enough away for me to tell him how I really felt, but I stalked closer to him, face a thunderhead.

“I have enough women problems already, trust me. Last thing I need is another one. It’s just dinner. Get over yourself, kid,” he said before I could even open my mouth.

Then he turned his back on me and began walking away. I stared at his back in disbelief, knowing that anything I said would only make me sound like… a child throwing a tantrum. But then I remembered the Demon. I flung out a hand, even though he couldn’t see me. “Nate, wait!”

He paused, glancing back at me. Not wanting to be overheard, I took a few steps closer. Seeing this, he turned, frowning curiously. “A Demon attacked me earlier. On my way to the church. Keep your eyes open.”

He nodded slowly, but didn’t look all that concerned. “There’s always demons over our shoulders, Callie. I always keep my eyes open.” Then he continued walking away, calling over his shoulder. “Meet me tonight at my hotel. The concierge will take you up to my rooms. We need to plan our robbery of the vampires. Be thinking about it, because we move tonight. Oh, and don’t use your real name at the hotel. And wear a hat or something.”

I stomped back inside, sliding the stone carving — that looked like a dozen others spanning the hallway — to the side, and pounding my code in the keypad to head back down to the training room. The door slid open and I walked through, waiting for it to close before I descended. Heavy bag. That’s what I needed. Let off some steam.

As I entered the room at the base of the stairs, an echoing whisper caught my ears.

“If I had been hitting on you, you would have known it by the pile of discarded clothes lying at your feet…”

I whirled, stunned. How the hell had he gotten back in here? I raced up the stairs, ready to shout, scream, yell, and hit him for his arrogance. But as I reached the biometric scanner, I saw no one. I frowned, thinking furiously. He hadn’t returned, or else the keypad would register that someone had just opened it. But as I touched the settings tab on the screen, I realized that the only clocked opening of the door was my own. No other.

So how had I just heard him whispering to me?

And…

How had he gotten down here in the first place?

I would definitely have to teach him some manners, thinking he was bold enough to tell me how I would react at him flirting with me. Please. Better men than him had tried, and partly succeeded in attracting my attention. At least for a time.

But as I stomped down the stairs again, I realized another thing. I was smiling absently as I replayed our back and forth arguments.

I forced my smile away. Heavy bag. Definitely heavy bag.

But I knew one thing. Temple had some tricks to teach me. Some things that even Roland apparently didn’t know. And that dinner was the ticket to learning them.