I hurried across the street toward the imposing brick wall that surrounded the Lord’s house. When I pushed through the wrought iron gate, it swung open with a loud groan. My footsteps crunched over a gravel path, and I took in the enormous gabled home that loomed over me: three stories, wings fanning out on both sides, and a widow’s walk crowning it all. Ivy climbed the dark wooden walls.

I crossed to the front door, which was painted a deep brown. Golden light glowed from his living room. A few days ago, I would have never had the nerve to knock on the Lord of Cambridge’s door. But now, what did I have to lose?

I picked up the knocker—a brass carving of a hand—and knocked three times. From within the house, I heard the floor creaking.

A few moments later, the Lord of Cambridge opened the door. He leaned against the doorframe, staring down at me.

I reminded myself that my primary goal right now was to seem sane. After all, I appeared to be a homeless woman out in the rain raving about invisible intruders and imaginary friends.

“Hi. I just wanted to know if you saw anything over there. I thought it was the most logical thing to come here. In an entirely rational way. You asked me what I saw, and logically, I thought maybe you also had seen…” I cleared my throat. Nothing makes you sound crazier than when you’re mentally working overtime to try to sound sane. “My friend is missing.”

Up close, I could see he was at least six feet tall, his skin a beautiful gold. Lightning cracked the sky and illuminated his chiseled features, his strong jaw. His clothes—the charcoal suit and white shirt—looked like they cost thousands.

Slowly he let his dark gaze run down my body—a carnal look that reminded me my underwear was on display under my transparent cream dress, my headlights engaged. I folded my arms under his intense stare.

Meeting my gaze again, he raised an eyebrow. “You never answered my question.”

I was in no mood for his imperious attitude. Drenched, I nodded into his house. “Do you think it’s a good idea to leave me out here in the freezing rain when there could be a predator skulking around?”

His expression darkened. “Do you think it’s a good idea to knock on strangers’ doors, half dressed, when you have no idea who the fuck the predator is?”

Nice manners on this guy. Goosebumps rose over my skin, and I hugged myself. “A gentleman wouldn’t comment on my clothing.”

A low rumble rose from his throat, tingling through my body. “So you’ve figured something out, at least. I’m not a gentleman.”

He spoke with an accent, rolling his Rs, but I hadn’t quite placed it yet. His words sent a strange shiver through my core, but I stared him down until he opened the door wider, gesturing for me to enter. I stepped into a dark wooden hall with bare walls.

He cast a sharp look back at me. “Might as well come in, then.”

He led me through an arched doorway into a two-story living room with windows that towered above us, giving a view of his darkened garden. His living room had an actual balcony that wrapped around the upper story. A faded tapestry depicting a starry sky hung above a stone fireplace, and a set of glass doors led onto a patio outside.

How much money did professors earn?

The Lord of Cambridge gestured to a faded leather chair by the fireplace, and I took a seat, my clothes drenching the chair. He sat across from me, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Under his intense gaze, I felt acutely aware that my dress was too short, my legs dripping with rainwater. He seemed like an arrogant bastard, and there was something unmistakably sexual about him—something about his smoldering eyes and his tensed muscles, as if he were constantly restraining himself from taking what he wanted. He made me feel strangely naked, even though I wasn’t.

A strange thrill prickled over my skin, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “I’m Dawn.”

“Okay.”

I gritted my teeth. “What’s your name?”

“How is that relevant?”

I loosed a weary sigh. “It’s just how normal humans interact.”

“You hardly seem like a normal human.” After a moment, he added, “Balthazar.”

“Balthazar,” I repeated. It seemed a fitting name for him, somehow masculine and barbaric at the same time.

“Answer my question, Dawn. You came running out of that building like you’d seen something.” He leaned forward. “What did you see?”

Bit of a bossy one, isn’t he? “Here’s my question for you. Why did you ask me if I’d seen something? It implied that you knew I’d seen something strange.”

“Simply the expression on your face. You looked terrified.”

Ah. Scottish. That was the accent.

I crossed my legs. Might as well try my luck telling my story to the arrogant professor, since no one else believed me. “I had no place to stay. My boyfriend and I broke up. He was controlling, and he caught me looking out the window…” Spying on you. Suddenly acutely uncomfortable, I cleared my throat. “You know.”

Some sort of mischievous challenge glinted in his eyes. “Care to elaborate? Did you see something you liked?”

I felt my thighs clench together. “It’s not important. The point is, I was supposed to stay with my friend Holly, who lives two doors down from him. I’ve known her since we were twelve. But… she wasn’t there. I went up to her apartment, and I heard a crashing noise through her door. When I opened the door, I saw a man there.”

“And what did this man look like?”

“Well, he didn’t look like a man, if that makes sense.”

“It wouldn’t to most people. I’m not most people. Go on.”

I shifted in my chair. “I’m not sure what I saw. A blond man with pale eyes. It seemed like smoky shadows whirled around him, but, you know… that sounds crazy.”

“The police didn’t find him?”

“The police said they spoke to the neighbors, and that I’d made everything up. There was no man, and there was no Holly. That I’d imagined my own best friend. Even Luke denied knowing Holly. I can tell you that he’s not trustworthy, and he wanted me away from her, but… the man I saw in the apartment wasn’t Luke. He didn’t seem like a man at all.”

“Describe him.”

“Pale blond hair, eyes that shone in the darkness… he moved too fast to be human.” I cleared my throat. “Rationally and logically, I realize how that sounds.”

“Yes. Like you’re losing your fucking mind.” He swirled his whiskey again. “But I believe you.”

The tightness in my chest unclenched just a little. At least someone believed me. “Now I want to know what you saw. You live right across the street. You’ve seen us before, right? You’ve seen Holly? The tall girl with long brown hair?”

“I’ve seen you together, yes.”

At least someone outside of my own head was acknowledging her existence. “Did you see anything weird tonight? A man going into the building?”

“No, but I don’t often spend the evening staring at your apartment building with binoculars. Only one of us in this room is fond of that particular habit.” His heated gaze bored into me.

I felt my thighs involuntarily clench again. Squirming, I pulled down the hem of my skirt, trying to cover my legs. “We’re getting sidetracked here.” I leaned forward, determined to get some answers of my own. “You like to make me uncomfortable, don’t you?”

“I like to watch the blush spread across your skin. Most of the women I’ve had in this room were not nearly as shy as you are. They were older. More sophisticated.”

A furious blush rose to my cheeks. He clearly wanted to throw me off guard, to watch me squirm. “That doesn’t have anything to do with anything. If you and I both know Holly is real, why is everyone saying she’s not?”

He swirled the ice in his drink. “I’m guessing it has something to do with the man you saw in her apartment. Or not a man, as the case may be.”

“Not a man?” I asked. “That sounds like something my Mom would say.”

His only reply was a quirk of his eyebrow, and I felt the need to fill the silence. “She always says there are creatures in this world most people can’t see. Things I’m supposed to stay away from. She has issues. She’s currently into hoarding toasters.” I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this.”

He held my gaze steadily. “Toasters aside, I think your mother might be on to something. Maybe you’re not yet ready for it.” I shivered. I’d never believed in this stuff before. “Well, ready or not--I need to find my best friend. Got it?”

He tapped the side of his glass, brow furrowed. “Fine. Can you get us back in there? I think we need to have a look for ourselves.”

“Okay. Yeah, I can get us back in.” He wasn’t divulging much information, but at least another human being was taking me seriously. “What are we looking for, exactly?”

“For clues, of course. Do you know of anyone who would be capable of altering people’s memories, of forcing them to forget a person entirely?”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not possible.” I cleared my throat. “Unless we’re talking about these… things that other people can’t see. But that’s absurd. This whole thing is absurd.”

“And yet, here we are. Please try to keep up.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m keeping up as well as anyone would. Just because I’m blonde and like to dress in heels doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I was at the top of my class in high school.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re arrogant?”

My eyes widened. “I’m arrogant? That is what we call projecting. You need a living room this size to accommodate your giant freaking ego. Now, are we going to hunt some shadow angels, or are we going to sit around here arguing?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “‘Shadow angels’, you say?”

I hadn’t even been aware of what I was saying until the words were out of my mouth. “Not shadow angels, obviously. That’s just something my mom says. I meant it as a general metaphor for predators. Bad guys. Whatever you want to call them. Assuming you’re not just dead weight in this whole endeavor.”

He lifted his whiskey, as if in a toast. “I guarantee, Dawn, I have all of your skills and more.”

“Whatever.” I stood. “Let’s go.”

As I moved toward the door, Balthazar stopped me with a gentle touch on my arm.

His brow furrowed, and he stared intently at the deep bruises that had formed on my arm. His shoulders tensed, and he gripped his glass so hard I thought he might break it. “Who did that to you?”

“Luke. My ex-boyfriend across the street.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling him this. “That’s why I moved out.”

The sound the professor emitted was something between a snarl and a growl. “I want to meet him.”