Standing in the middle of her living room, Naomi wondered – had Hill been this creepy the last time she met him, and she just hadn’t noticed, as in shock as she had been? Or had something changed between their last meeting and now?

Whatever the case, the detective had gone from rude to downright unsettling, as he studied her with an odd expression on his face.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” he said.

“What?” Naomi blurted out, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hill was about to answer, when another knock on the door made Naomi spin around.

Really? Who the hell could this be?

“Excuse me,” she said to Hill, somewhat relieved she didn’t have to focus all her attention on him anymore.

On the other side of the house, the water had stopped, and it was only a matter of time before Melanie came back. Naomi had a feeling her friend would not appreciate the sudden influx of visitors.

Pulling the door open, Naomi glanced back at Hill, strolling around her living room and studying her shelves. When she turned back to the door, though, she had to stop her mouth from gaping open.

“Sawyer?” she asked, raising her brows.

He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. Damned if he didn’t look even better than she remembered, though. But, she also remembered how they had left things.

“Come to haul me off to the nuthouse?” she asked, her hand flying to her hip.

“No,” he replied simply. “I came to hear you out.”

Now that was a turn of events she hadn’t foreseen. Flustered, Naomi wasn’t sure if she should invite him inside or not. Melanie was bound to step into the living room at any moment, and seeing the detective there would be disruptive enough without a beefy stranger hanging around as well.

But, Naomi had been the one to barge in on Sawyer, so sending him away now would be kind of hypocritical. And she did still want his help.

“All right,” she said after a moment. “Come in. Oh, there’s a detective here, too,” she added, gesturing him inside.

Sawyer stepped into the room, his head on a swivel. When his gaze stopped on Hill, he looked surprised, and maybe a little taken aback.

“Hill,” he said, shocking Naomi. “How did you get here so fast?” he asked, as the detective turned around.

“So I’m guessing you two know each other,” Naomi commented.

Beside her, Sawyer drew in a deep breath, tensing as soon as he did.

“Who are you?” he demanded, glaring at Hill with a growl in his voice.

His friendly demeanor gone, Naomi was definitely getting a glimpse of Sawyer’s shifter side. She felt goosebumps prickling on her skin, the obvious sensation of being around something she didn’t understand creeping down her spine.

“You just said his name,” Naomi threw her hands up, feeling like she was slowly slipping into an episode of the Twilight Zone. “What do you mean ‘who are you’?”

“That’s not Detective Hill,” Sawyer snarled, putting himself between her and the detective.

What?

Throwing his head back, Hill let out an echoing laugh. Behind him, Melanie appeared in the hallway, looking as perplexed as Naomi felt.

Something was very wrong, that much Naomi knew. Did Hill have some kind of an evil twin she didn’t know about? No, that only happened in bad movies.

“Melanie,” she called out, frantically waving at her.

Whatever was going on, Naomi had to trust her gut – and her gut had been telling her there was something off about Hill even before Sawyer showed up.

“Ah, the woman I came to see,” Hill grinned, turning toward Melanie.

She froze in the hallway, her gaze darting around, moving from Hill to Naomi to Sawyer.

“Take another step,” Sawyer warned, inching closer to Hill, or not Hill, as the case might have been. “And I’ll rip your throat out.”

Whoa.

There was a steely edge to Sawyer’s tone that left Naomi with no doubts about whether he would carry out that threat. She still wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but if Sawyer said the man in her living room wasn’t Hill…

He was acting strange, she thought, narrowing her eyes at the detective.

Wearing Naomi’s bathrobe, her wet hair falling down her back, Melanie made a dash for it, rushing past Hill and running to Naomi’s side. She immediately wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“What’s going on?” Melanie whispered.

“If only I knew,” Naomi replied, throwing Sawyer a questioning look.

“I know Detective Hill. I’ve worked with him. I know his scent. And this man does not smell like Hill,” Sawyer announced. “In fact, he doesn’t smell human at all.”

That struck Naomi like a sledgehammer.

Not… human? her mind sputtered, even as she realized she should have made the connection already.

“He’s the monster,” she said quietly, squeezing Melanie closer to her side.

“A demon,” Sawyer replied, his choice of words sending a jolt through her.

Fake Hill let out an exaggerated sigh, looking down at himself.

“The cat is out of the bag,” he said, his voice now markedly different from that of the real Hill.

There was a strange rhythm to his words, lilted and clipped, unlike any accent Naomi had ever heard. But wait, no. Had she heard it before? Something terrible pushed at the edges of her mind, but she kept it back.

“Who are you?” Sawyer demanded again, earning an annoyed look from fake Hill.

Sweeping a hand down the front of his suit jacket, the man’s frame began to ripple and fade, until the tall, black man that had been standing in front of them grew even taller, his shoulders stretching wider.

The mask of Detective Hill slowly faded away, the soft features of the handsome detective replaced by a sharply short nose and eyes that were too far apart. Naomi blinked, only kept grounded in reality by Melanie, whose fingers were now digging into her arm.

Her father’s voice echoed through her mind, the fear in his voice grating as memories started to flood back.

Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house? he had said.

With that, everything went crashing into place. Naomi stared at the creature in her living room, locking her knees so it wouldn’t be obvious how they were trembling. It was a face she had seen before, almost fifteen years ago.

And since then, in her nightmares.

“You can call me… Verin,” the demon shrugged, assessing Sawyer with dead eyes.

“And is that your actual name?” Sawyer countered.

“Unimportant,” the demon replied. “I’m here because of Melanie. I need a moment of her time.”

Naomi looked over at her friend, trembling at her side. Her breathing ragged, Melanie was as pale as she had ever seen her, and she seemed to be unable to look away from Verin.

“You’re not getting one second,” Naomi spat out, fear mixing with adrenaline in her veins.

Ignoring her entirely, Verin turned his attention to Melanie.

“Your husband told me the statue was at the university,” he stated. “Why did he lie?”

“What statue?” Naomi countered.

“Was I talking to you?” Verin sneered, clearly losing any patience he had to begin with. “Why did he lie?” he demanded again, staring at Melanie.

“That’s enough,” Sawyer growled, his body arching in a predatory pose.

“And if I disagree?” Verin asked, smirking.

Sawyer didn’t reply. Instead, he lunged at the demon, wrapping his arms around the creature’s waist. Taking a step back, Naomi pulled Melanie closer to the front door, ready to make a run for it.

Run, Naomi, her father’s words came to her once more, bringing with it a wave of shame.

A loud crash pulled her out of her recollections, and drew a scream from Melanie. And it was in that moment that Naomi knew, her life had completely changed. Again.