I felt like I was floating, flying.

“She’s going to kill me. You understand that, right?” a low voice said, seeming to echo.

“Maybe,” a woman said. “But she’ll thank you afterwards.” She sounded familiar… “Why is it fading?”

The low voice grunted. “No idea.” A pause. “You okay?”

“I hardly knew him, but…”

Silence. “Sometimes that’s worse,” the low voice said gently, sounding heartfelt.

I slowly opened my eyes to see that Nate was carrying me in his arms, giving me a chance to stare at him unobserved. His eyes were hard, as if preparing to walk to the gallows. We were in a familiar elevator. The hotel. I saw Claire’s reflection in the golden wall. She looked anxious, shifting from foot to foot.

“Take me home, you… uncouth playboy. Or I will kill you.” I grumbled, throat sore.

Claire gasped, suddenly leaning over me, crying, brushing my hair back.

“Home is where the heart is, or so I’ve heard,” Nate said, grinning as he glanced down at me.

“My heart is not here, Nate. I—”

The elevator door opened, and I heard a gasp from beyond the opening. Then I was yanked from Nate’s arms to be carried by someone else. I stared up in confusion as the room spun.

And then I saw my dad smiling down on me.

I began to cry, overwhelmed. Big, heaving, ugly sobs. Tears painted my dad’s cheeks as he carried me deeper into the penthouse, and then set me down on the couch. He wiped away my tears, smiling as he shook his head. “It’s okay, Callie. Everything is fine.”

“The piano isn’t,” I heard Nate complain. I saw Claire punch him. He looked surprised, rubbing his shoulder.

“How?” I whispered, turning back to my dad. Was I dreaming right now? Or had tonight been a nightmare?

“He saved us, Callie. Both of us,” he whispered, squeezing my legs. He jerked his chin and I followed the motion.

Roland stood there, leaning on crutches, smiling at me proudly.

“The wards,” I said, feeling numb. They were both alive. That wasn’t possible. I had seen them die.

“He’s crafty, I’ll give him that,” Roland muttered, but he was smiling at… Nate, of all people. And another man I hadn’t noticed. The older gentleman I had seen on the roof. Hemingway.

I locked eyes with him, and felt an instant kinship. Maybe that was what my dad had seen in him. The man smiled back at me, eyes crinkling. “Nate had me hide them where they couldn’t be found.” The two men shivered at that for some reason, and Hemingway chuckled. “Nate knew that the wards would draw the Demon out. Why make a fortress if not to defend something valuable? Once I saw you return to the roof after the bears, I scooped them up, taking them to safety.” He glanced at Nate. “I’m still not sure how the Demon broke through the wards, or how none of you sensed him if he was so close to you, though.” Nate shrugged, looking frustrated at the questions, but having no answers. Hemingway turned back to me. “Please don’t be upset with him. Nate always does the right thing. Even when you tell him not to. I hope you forgive him for his deceit, and understand his reasoning for doing so. Even though it went against your wishes.” His grin split even wider. “When you saw me talking to Nate on the roof before the bears, I thought for sure that you had found out his plan,” he chuckled.

I didn’t look at Nate. “Then… who were the men on the crosses?”

“Two thieves, ironically…” Hemingway said. I frowned. He seemed to understand the deeper significance of his answer. Two thieves crucified on either side of me. He had disguised them to look like Roland and my dad. That was why Johnathan had spun around during his ritual, glaring at them. He must not have noticed it until they died.

“Who are you?” I asked, puzzled.

“Some call me Hemingway…” He glanced at Nate, arching a brow in question. Nate shrugged in answer. “But you may call me Death.”

Roland shivered, looking extremely uncomfortable. No wonder. I just stared. My dad was simply grinning, the most comfortable man in the room at hearing the news. He leaned closer to me, whispering, and I heard Death chuckle in amusement. “He let me see mom, Callie. I got to see Sarah again.” His eyes were nostalgic, full of love. “She was so beautiful…”

I bit back a sob of envy. That… was the nicest thing I could fathom. And Death had given it to him. In order to prove he was one of the good guys.

“Thank you,” I whispered softly, unable to offer more. Death merely shrugged with a deep smile, but his eyes did dart to Nate thoughtfully. Nate shook his head once, and Death relented.

Nate had saved… my two fathers. Going against my wishes. The conversation between he and Claire in the elevator almost made me smile now that I understood it.

I turned to Claire. “I’m so sorry, sweetie…” she smiled sadly, eyes teary, idly rubbing her arms before her chest. She had lost Gabriel. A man sent to watch over me, but I believed that his interest in Claire had been more than just a job. I had no proof of this, but it felt right.

“I’ve booked the room for a week. Death and I must be leaving, though. We have… things to do. In St. Louis. We can talk about everything… later. When you are ready. I think we all have questions, but I think family is more important.” Again, his eyes shifted to Death, who nodded in answer to an unspoken question.

I nodded. “Thank you, Nate.”

Roland sighed and handed Claire a five-dollar-bill. She grinned, accepting it. I frowned at her. “He bet me you wouldn’t say thank you. Maybe later, but not tonight.” Roland shrugged. I just rolled my eyes, leaning back.

I had much to think about, much to discuss, and much to learn.

About myself. About Kansas City. And about the Bible.

But first, family.

Claire clapped her hands. “I’m starving, and I think Callie could use some food. Follow me, you hairy lumps,” Claire said to Roland and my dad. They obeyed, leaving me on the couch, Death and Nate standing against the wall.

They nodded at me. A silent nod of approval. Then they turned to leave, but I called out to Nate. He slowed, but Death continued on towards the elevator. I could hear clanging pots and pans from the kitchen, and Claire barking off orders to her new minions.

Nate approached, kneeling down before me hesitantly.

“You came through for me. Not in the way I thought, but in the way that mattered,” I said.

“I always knew you could take care of yourself,” he said, smiling. He waited for a moment, defenses down. There was a question in his eyes, left unspoken, a memory of our near kiss. I didn’t acknowledge it. He slowly stood, the moment gone.

“We need to get the spear to the Vatican,” I said, suddenly remembering, and knowing I was in no condition to get up and do it on my own for a few more days.

He frowned, looking disturbed. “There was no spear, Callie. I checked everywhere.”

An icy fist gripped my chest. Had Amira taken it after I passed out? Had it been destroyed?

Noticing the look on my face, he held out a hand. “I warded the place. You and Roland can go check it out once you’re better.” His eyes looked troubled, but I found myself happy that he had said you not we. He was confident enough in me to look into the spear on my own. “We’ll talk. Soon. Some stuff is going down in my neck of the woods that could affect you guys here. But for now, rest up.” He turned back to the elevator, stepping in beside Death. Before the doors closed, he met my eyes. “Tell your dad he can keep the car. The color of a real baseball team,” he added, eyes twinkling.

Then the doors closed. I was smiling. My dad hated the St. Louis Cardinals. Typical Nate. Honey and a stick. Gift and a curse.

A noble asshole.