“I did.”

  He nodded. “I hope he makes it.”

  “He will. He doesn’t really have to pee.”

  Rand nearly smiled, but didn’t. His eyes squinted, even as his strong grip adjusted to now hold the top of my hand. His warm fingers curled around my small palm. For the first time, the distant, dancing fire in his eyes was gone.

  “Tell me, Sam. What did you mean... avenge your death?”

  But I couldn’t find the words. Doing so would risk another outburst; in the least, a torrent of tears.

  Rand studied me, his dark eyes searching. The real Rand sought answers. “I don’t understand, Sam.”

  “He was... my father in another lifetime.”

  “Another life...?”

  “A long, long story. He was my father and I was murdered, and my killer is still out there, killing others like me.”

  “Vampires?”

  “No, witches. I had been a witch in my past life.”

  “But, Sam... I had it on good authority that he was one of the oldest vampires, one of the originals—wait, he’d been looking for your killer all this time?”

  “He had.”

  “Geez, Sam. I didn’t know.”

  “But even if you had, you would have killed him anyway. And me.”

  Rand said nothing, but I saw the tears in his own eyes. We both knew my words were true.

  “My revelation changes nothing, of course.”

  “But it does explain why I thought I was about to get my head ripped off,” said Rand. “And the experience did change how I do, um, business. I research more. I follow up more. I weigh the pros and cons. I ask questions of my vampire friends.”

  I nodded. I knew one of his team members was also a vampire.

  Strange bedfellows, indeed.

  “Had I done my due diligence with your, um, father...”

  “Just call him J.C.,” I said.

  “With J.C., yeah, I would have bypassed him in an instant. It was obvious he wasn’t a threat.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  “I know you are now. But then...”

  “No, I had misgivings even then, Sam. I studied the man for months, watching his every movement. He knew I was out there. I sensed him sensing me. I watched him feed from the local wildlife, and even then, he didn’t kill the critters. He was no threat, and I knew it.”

  “And you killed him anyway.”

  “I... I didn’t know any better, Sam. It’s what we did. It was what my family did.”

  “A poor excuse to kill a good man.”

  “That’s just the thing, Sam. I didn’t see him as a man. I saw him as a monster. There is something within me that just... hates the things I hunt.”

  “You hate me?”

  “I try not to.”

  “But you do?”

  He took in some air. “I try not to. Let’s leave it at that.”

  We were quiet for a heartbeat or two. Any of the lingering stares we got soon turned away. I quickly scanned the surrounding minds and verified no one had overheard us. The dueling pianos had long since started dueling again.

  “Are we good, Sam?”

  “As good as we can be.”

  “You were asking about the medallion. Would you like to hear more?”

  I nodded, looked away from his eyes. There was real warmth there, even if there was confusion. I was his natural prey. I knew that. I knew he fought it when he was around me, and he probably fought when he was around his vampire team member. The good news was... he’d learned his lesson, even if it meant a good man—my one-time father—had to die.

  “Sam, my aim that night was off, just enough that... J.C. survived the shot.”

  “A crossbow bolt?” I asked.

  He nodded, and now, it was his turn to look away. “It had just missed his heart, but it had done enough damage to render him... immobile.”

  “What does that mean exactly?”

  “The bolt had pinned him to a wall.”

  “Where?”

  “In his home.”

  “You killed him in his home?”

  “Yes, Sam.”

  “Was he asleep?”

  “As terrible as you think I am, or was, I would not attack a defenseless target.”

  “But you attacked me when I first opened my hotel room door.”

  “I attacked you in the evening, when you were at full power. I gave you every chance to defend yourself, and you did.”

  “You could have gone in for the kill,” I said, recalling the bolt plowing into my shoulder and spinning me into the hotel bathroom. The pain had been unreal.

  “Truth be known, Sam, I couldn’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Kill you.”

  “You aimed for my heart.”

  “But I paused, certainly long enough for you to turn away.”

  “Why did you pause?”

  “I...” Rand opened his mouth and closed it again. “It was your sire. Already, his death was affecting me. It had, quite frankly, haunted me. I couldn’t shake it, not like the others.”

  I watched the handsome, grizzled, blond-haired man work through his own emotions. I noted the scars on his arms and knuckles. The man had gone to war for the mortals of the earth, whether they appreciated it or not. At the moment, I appreciated it not.

  “Mostly, Sam, I remembered how he spoke of you.”

  “How did he speak of me?”

  “With love, Sam.”

  My throat constricted, but I managed to speak anyway. “What did he say?”

  “He was mortally wounded. I believe the bolt pierced his lungs and even, perhaps, his trachea. Instead of grabbing for it and trying to pull himself free, he reached for a medallion hanging around his neck. I approached him cautiously, to say the least. Vampires, especially older vampires, have more than a few tricks up their sleeves. Some have even learned minor enchantments, as I knew J.C. had.”

  “He knew you were onto him,” I said, highly aware that I sounded like Dick Tracy but not caring one iota.

  “Vampires are rarely surprised by my presence. Some flee. Some stay and fight. Most know of me and my talents. Most know it will be a fair-enough fight.”

  “Fair enough?”

  “I’m just a mortal with a crossbow, Sam. I won’t kill them in their sleep, but I do need to protect myself.”

  “You are more than mortal.”

  “No, Sam. I can die from salmonella poisoning like any other human. I can just channel the best of us when needed.”

  I caught the “us” part but let it slide. A speaking error only, obviously. Instead, I said, “Fine. What happened with the medallion?”

  Rand nodded, held eye contact with me. Say what you will about the hunter, he had compassion, even if he was never, ever, truly sorry for his kills.

  “He pulled it over his head with some difficulty and held it out to me. I told him to drop it, figuring it was a charm of some sort. He said he would not drop it, that it was a special gift. I stood there, with the next bolt notched and ready for the kill shot, and the old man—clearly the oldest-looking vampire I’d ever hunted—stared back at me with determination in his eyes. I asked him what he wanted me to do with it and he said to give it to you.”

  “At the time, did you know about me?”

  “Of course, Sam. I had my...”

  “Hit list.”

  “Yes.”

  “How did I find my way onto your list?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t give away all my secrets, Sam.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Back to the necklace. I assume you took it.”

  Rand drummed his fingers on the scarred table, cracked his neck like a pro, then looked back at me. “Against my better judgment, I took it from him.”

  “I assume nothing terrible happened?”

  “No, Sam.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “He did. He told me to tell his daughter that he loved her more than she would ever know, and that he was sorry he failed her twice. He said he was never more lost than when she was taken from him, and never more centered than when he found her again, time after time. He said his greatest gift was her and he was so proud to be her father. Sam... I didn’t know he had been talking about you. I looked for his daughter, but found no indication of her anywhere... and soon forgot about his message... until now.”

  I briefly covered my eyes and asked Rand what happened next. After accepting the medallion and hearing J.C.’s final request, he’d said goodbye to the old man, who had nodded once and closed his eyes, and Rand had promptly plunged a silver dagger deep into his heart.

  “I didn’t feel right about it, Sam,” said Rand.

  “But you did it anyway.”

  “I had to. I’m sorry. The compulsion, at that time, was undeniable.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I have some control over it. Enough to make my own decisions.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  “And good for you, too, Sam. Again, I’m sorry.”

  “What do you know of the Red Rider?” I asked suddenly, wanting to get off the subject of my one-father’s death.

  “Nothing, Sam. I’m sorry.”

  “But he is immortal... surely, he’s on your radar... or the radars of your ancestors.”

  Rand shook his head. “From what I understand, he is a magical being first and foremost. He is not possessed by a dark master.”

  Rand stood and came around to my side of the table. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and, inside of me, Elizabeth recoiled at his touch. How many of her dark masters had he and his ancestors displaced? I didn’t know, but she would know. Dozens, perhaps. Maybe even hundreds. No wonder why she’d recoiled.

  “I hope you find the bastard, Sam. If you need my help, you have my number. I will be in L.A. for the next few weeks or so.”

  “Hunting mermen.”

  “One merman. Let’s just hope I find him.”

  He patted my shoulder again, and headed off toward the door, weaving between the dueling pianos. He’d left behind a crisp hundred-dollar bill, which I hadn’t seen until now. I grabbed it, held it up, protesting that it was way too much.

  But he was already gone.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I’d just paid the bill—or, rather, Rand had just paid—when the Angel of Death appeared by my side. Like right there, stride for stride, all glowing eight feet of him. I gasped and jumped and might have trembled a little. Since others didn’t appear to see him, I kept my cool as best as I could, especially since most of the restaurant already thought I was freak.

  I pushed through the glass double doors and stepped out onto Harbor Boulevard and into downtown Fullerton. The Angel of Death didn’t step through the double doors; he walked through the brick façade of the old building itself... and continued by my side down a crowded sidewalk.

  “It’s been a while, Samantha.”

  “It has.”

  “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  Squinting, I glanced up at the massive entity that should have blocked out the sun angling down in the same direction, except, being mostly transparent, the sun shone straight through him. “A giant, invisible angel suddenly appearing by my side? Why would I be startled?”

  “Oh, others can see me, Sam. Look around.”

  I did, scanning the faces around us. There, a homeless man looked up from his seat against a wall across the street. Now, he was standing, watching us closely, mouth open.

  “Why him?” I asked.

  “There’s more, look.”

  I did. A woman in a passing bus pressed her face against the smoky glass, eyes wide, breath fogging before her. A man coming toward us stopped in his tracks and dropped his cell phone. I snatched it up before it hit the ground. I tucked it in his pants pocket and nearly gave him a prompt to forget what he had seen, when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

  “Leave him, Sam.”

  “But...”

  The hand on my shoulder guided me around the man staring at us, whose mouth also hung open. I didn’t blame him.

  “But... they saw you. Won’t that freak them out?”

  “Not as much as you think, Sam.”

  A man on a passing bike hit his brakes and nearly went over his handlebars. Feet planted on the ground, he stared, mouth also hanging open. I was noticing a trend.

  “But why them?” I asked, watching a woman from across the street stop and stare, both hands clutching white gift bags. She nearly dropped them but managed to keep it together enough not to.

  “Those who asked can see me.”

  “Asked to see the Angel of Death?”

  “No, Sam. Asked to see a miracle. Asked to see proof that there is something beyond their five senses. Asked for something to believe in. First and foremost, Sam, I am an angel.”

  “An archangel,” I said.

  “Indeed, Sam. And, as such, I also work as an agent for something greater than me.”

  “God.”

  “God, the Creator, the Source, the All That Is, the Origin.”

  “The Big Tuna.”

  “If that works for you, Sam.”

  “Have you seen God?”

  “We all have, Sam. Every day. Every second. Every atom is infused with the breath of God.”

  “Okay, that’s the boring answer. How about giving me the answer I’m really looking for?”

  “You are asking if I have seen the face of God?”

  “His face, his hair, any part of him, really.”

  “God makes frequent appearances here on earth... and in many other worlds of his creations, disguised as one of his creations. I use the masculine here for the sake of convenience. God is pure energy and without gender, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  I thought back to my conversation with God just a few months ago. It had taken place in my minivan, via a pen and pad of paper. True, I’d had similar such conversations; that is, through automatic writing. But this conversation had been... different. This conversation came with a trip to heaven, a trip that I’d been hesitant to speak about to anyone. I both wanted to forget what I had seen, and wanted to think about it continuously. But knowing I would never see this paradise again was too much to deal with, and so I didn’t. I did my best to put it out of my thoughts. Interestingly, I also thought back to the man who had called himself Jack, a man I’d met at a Denny’s nearly six years ago, a man who had known everything about me... and did not judge me.

  “And love?” I asked. “God is also love?”

  “Love is a vague concept, Sam, that many people—many humans, at least—get wrong. I would suggest that God is... benevolent energy. Yes, that works. Benevolence for his creations goes without saying.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Although it doesn’t hurt, you know, to actually say it.”

  The angel, who somehow matched me stride for stride, although his strides were much, much larger than mine, looked down at me. His beautiful, golden hair sat unmoving on his broad shoulders, and, for all intents and purposes, Thor himself was walking with me down Harbor Boulevard, mostly ignored by those who couldn’t see him—or who hadn’t asked for a miracle.

  “The love that flows from the Source Entity, Sam, is a continuous stream of unending joy and uplifting inspiration. It is life itself. It is the air we breathe, the thoughts we think, the passion we feel. When one learns how, one can tune into this flowing well-being at any time, all day long. Once done, miracles happen, inspiration happens, creation happens. Humans have a bad habit of doubting this love, shutting it off, and avoiding it all together. When that happens, well, you can see the results around you.”

  “God punishes?” I asked.

  “God expands, Sam. God expands even when he’s been cut off completely.”

  “You’re saying God benefits even while others suffer?”

  “Through their suffering, they ask for more, Sam. And through their asking, God expands to answer. It’s a beautiful thing. All benefit.”

  “Even angels?”

  “The entire Universe benefits from the expansion.”

  “Why?”

  “With more creation, there are more options. More tools to play with, more thoughts to think, more worlds to explore.”

  “But why must there be suffering?”

  “There needn’t be suffering, Sam. But there does need to be recognition of something wanted.”

  I nodded. “And if all was rosy and peachy-keen, there would be no reason for something wanted.”

  “Yes, Sam. It’s why you came here. Why everyone came here.”

  “To a messed-up Earth?”

  “To opportunity, Sam. It’s all in how you look at it. It is the same with suffering. Why suffer, when blessings are right around the corner. Why wallow, when answers are at your fingertips? Have faith, foster positive expectations, and the world is yours. More humans than you know receive the blessings of heaven, although some sooner than others.”

  “What do you mean by blessings? Does God reward?”

  “A good question, Sam. I said earlier, when humans ask, God expands. That means, God answers... the expansion means God becomes that which is asked for or yearned for or hoped for. It’s waiting and ready.”

  “Ready for who?”

  “Those who are ready.”

  “How does one get ready?”

  “How does one receive any blessing, Sam? How does anyone, anywhere, receive that which they most want?”

  “Does the answer have something to do with Oprah?”

  “No, but she is an example of one who is tapped into the vibration of abundance.”

  “Vibration?”

  “Everything has a vibration, Sam. You asked how does one get ready? The answer is simple: find a way to practice the feeling of the desire, the vibration of it, and watch it begin to unfold in your life. Generally, it will begin with ideas... with manifestations to follow. For every great business, great relationship, or, quite frankly, anything of worth and note in this world, began as a desire born from life experience. And from that experience, which, admittedly, could be painful, a yearning was launched. That yearning was heard by the Creator.”

  “And he what... created it?”

  “In essence, yes. Created vibrationally. Expanded and acted upon, and is waiting for you, dear one, to summon it into existence.”