“I want to think about it before I say anything,” Katia hedged.

  “Your call. I trust your judgement on this.” Her master stepped away from her now, giving her space. Somehow Riley knew when to do that.

  Trust.

  It always came back to that, didn’t it? Two months into her new job in Atlanta and the past still haunted her, still affected every decision. As if what had happened in Kansas could happen here, and again it would be her fault. It hadn’t always been that way, not with her first master because he’d known how to guide her.

  But after his death Master Kelly had destroyed her confidence in a short period of time. Her ex-boyfriend, Noah, had only contributed to her insecurities. If her grandmother had been alive she’d have been able to fight back. But she’d died and Katia’s brother had almost done the same.

  It’d been as if the universe had decided she was worthless.

  And I let it happen.

  She jerked back to the present as something kept tugging on her senses. A few dozen steps took her across the pavement away from the others, past another piece of dead demon, this an eyeball. Again, no flies. The trail of black blood continued and Katia followed it for about twenty-five feet, then it abruptly ended. There was more of that Do Not Enter feeling, so she headed back from where she’d come, cold sweat covering her arms now.

  Behind her, Riley chatted with the pair of cops who’d summoned them. Their relieved expressions said they were thrilled the corpses were no longer their problem. Sure enough, they walked back to their patrol car and drove off without bothering to look back. The police were always happy to drop anything Hell related into the trappers’ laps. It was only fair.

  As Riley walked back toward them, she texted someone, then paused to wait for a reply. When the phone beeped, she nodded and stuck it away in her pocket. “Fireman Jack will send someone down to collect the corpses. Sorry, but there won’t likely be any money off these things.”

  Katia hadn’t figured there would be. “This is where it happened last April.”

  Her master looked over at her now. “If you mean ‘the Fallen Angel Tried to Destroy Atlanta’ thing, then yes. It was just over there,” she said, gesturing toward the west now. “This area is called The Gulch, in case you’re wondering.”

  Gary the Tour Guide had mentioned that. “Simon told me what really happened. It wasn’t a Fallen Angel.”

  Riley took a quick look around to ensure there was no one nearby other than the exorcist, who was methodically studying each pile of demon carcasses for whatever reason.

  “Okay, then this is where the Angel of Death met its end, almost taking me, Ori and Beck with it. It was a near thing. Very near.”

  Katia had watched the videos of that day and they’d made her cringe. “Do you think that will happen again, another angel going crazy?”

  “If I’m lucky, not in my lifetime. Or anyone else’s.” Riley hesitated, then pointed toward the south now. “What do you feel about that building over there? The abandoned one? Any impressions?”

  It was the building where Riley and Beck had jumped off the roof. “Gary the tour guide took us there.”

  “Okay, but what kind of feeling do you get from that place?”

  “I sense demons and magic. Weird magic. Not sure what kind.”

  Riley studied her for a time and then smiled. “Wow. You have an amazing gift. The demons in that building were different. They couldn’t die. No matter how hard we tried to kill them.”

  Katia stared at the building, trying to imagine what that was like.

  “I’m guessing for you it’s not a “here’s a bit of magic” thing.”

  “No. It’s more like having my skin sandblasted, depending on how strong it is. What about you?” she asked, looking back at her master.

  “I’m better at sensing Hellspawn and how much power they have. I can sense most magic spells, but not all of them, at least not yet. So yeah, I’m feeling fortunate compared to what you put up with.”

  “It’s not all bad,” Katia blurted, then wondered why she had. “I felt the evil in a woman once. I told my teacher, but no one believed me until she tried to kidnap one of my classmates.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Six.”

  “Six?” Riley blurted. “That had to be so scary.”

  “It was, because I didn’t understand why I felt that way. My mom didn’t know how to deal with someone like me, so she said I was just imagining it. It was always that way when I told her stuff like that.”

  “Did anyone believe you?”

  “I think my dad did, but he didn’t say much because mom would get mad. My gran did believe me. She said it was a gift. I don’t see it that way.”

  “Your grandmother was right. What you have is a gift, though it’s hard for you to bear. It is from the Light, that I can guarantee. I would sense if it was otherwise. You should trust it. And even more, trust yourself.”

  Katia felt the prickle of tears, so she turned away, not wanting her boss to see her weakness. Her eyes met Simon’s, and he nodded in response. She hadn’t realized he’d joined them, so caught up in the conversation.

  “She’s right,” he said. “Let what happened in Lawrence stay there. You have a new life here now.”

  She wasn’t sure about that.

  A van pulled up, white with no markings on the side. Nothing special. The two men who climbed out dressed in jeans and T-shirts, just like they were doing a delivery.

  “Hey, Sam, Zeke, how goes it?” Riley called out.

  “You stick us with all the crap jobs, you know that?” one of them called back, but he didn’t sound upset. “Do we need bags?”

  “Oh yeah, and gloves. And a strong stomach.”

  The guys traded looks, then sighed. “One of those, huh?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry about that. But this time we didn’t do it, so that should count for something.”

  “Aha.”

  A voice called to Katia now. One that pleaded with her, begging.

  Save him!

  She turned back toward the pile of demon bits, then listened again.

  “Katia?” Simon said.

  “Hold on,” she said. Closing her eyes she shut out the world around her, listening.

  Here!

  It was The Lady, that much she knew.

  “Katia?” Riley called out.

  She ignored everything but the voice. The further she went from the carcasses, the stronger the sensation became, more urgent. Katia’s stomach lurched and she nearly heaved. Then it faded as if she had crossed an invisible barrier. Forcing herself to keep moving, she spied something in the distance. It was a body. Lying next to it was a tattered navy robe.

  “Oh, shit.”

  A broken staff lay next to the summoner, Chaffin’s face a mask of blood, his body no better. And yet, to her surprise, his bare chest moved with each shallow breath.

  “Katia?” Simon shouted.

  When she looked back at her companions, they weren’t there.

  “You are Between,” the voice said. She turned and found The Lady watching her. She was battered as well, her face streaked with mud and green fluid, perhaps her version of blood. Her hands were red.

  “Tried to save us. He could not.” A tear ran down her face. “So brave, but not strong . . . enough. Help him. For me.”

  Then she turned and vanished into the darkness.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  It had taken all of Katia’s strength to drag the comatose summoner from the Between back to her world. Her shoulder and arm muscles complained, as well as those in her back, and she knew that a couple of her wounds had reopened.

  None of that mattered. Katia had seen the grief in The Lady’s eyes, seen more than that. She’d done the only thing left to do—she’d found a way to pull this dying man back to her friends using his robe.

  The instant she crossed whatever barrier was in place she heard Riley gasp. Katia let go of the robe, then staggered a few steps, only to fall on her butt, strength gone.

  “Help him!” she said, waving at the injured summoner behind her. “It’s Chaffin. He’s hurt.”

  Riley sprinted up to the injured man and knelt next to him. “Oh yeah, not good. Not good at all,” she said. “Simon, I’ll need your help getting him into the car.”

  “Why?” he demanded, glowering at them.

  The question hit Katia like a fist to her jaw. “Why? Because he’s hurt.”

  “Why should I care? He didn’t give a damn when he sent us to that other world to die.”

  She forced herself to her feet, glaring at him. He glared right back, making no move to help.

  “How about you stick your wounded pride up your ass and help this guy. Because trust me, there’s more going on here than we know and he’s the only one who can tell us what it is.”

  Simon stared at her, then looked as if he was going to argue.

  “She’s right, and if we let him die we’ll never figure it out on our own,” Riley insisted.

  With an angry grunt, he stomped over and grabbed one end of the robe when Riley took the other. As they moved him across open ground, a low groan came from the wounded necro. One of the guys tasked with collecting the fiends’ remains offered to help, but Riley shook her head.

  “Thanks, but no. You’re covered in demon guts and this guy is in bad enough shape as it is.”

  Katia managed to make it to the car first, so she opened both rear doors. It took a lot of maneuvering, but finally Summoner Chaffin was in the backseat, laying on his side, on a blanket. A makeshift pillow had been created from another blanket. Throughout it all he’d done nothing more than moan and leak blood from each of his many wounds.

  Riley’s car wasn’t big, so Katia sat in the back with him, his booted feet lying across her lap.

  “Hospital?” Simon asked tersely.

  “No, Mort’s house,” Riley replied. “Call him and let him know we’re inbound.”

  As the call went through, Katia kept an eye on the necro, watching his chest rise and fall. Whatever had attacked him had done so with incredible precision, the cuts on his chest and arms at near perfect intervals. Slice after slice.

  He’s been tortured.

  Now the immense sadness in The Lady’s eyes made even more sense.

  Mort had them bring the summoner in the back door, not down the lane past far too many nosy people. He’d insisted that Riley put a glamour on Chaffin so that it looked as if they were carrying a rolled-up carpet, not someone who was rapping on death’s door.

  Once the rogue was inside the house, Katia headed for one of the chairs on the veranda and fell into it, so tired she could hardly move. In time voices came from inside the house, one of them being the witch who’d treated Deanna.

  Simon eventually joined her, his face still set in a frown. He got this way sometimes, just closing off from everyone. Was it because he’d been willing to let Chaffin die where they’d found him, or was it something else? There was only one way to find out.

  “Why did you want us to leave him there?”

  His eyes studied her, brilliant blue and cold. So cold she almost shivered. This was a part of Simon she rarely saw.

  “I would think it was obvious.”

  “Nothing about this is obvious. You’re mad at him because your sister could have died, right?”

  A grimace replaced the cold stare. “Yes.”

  “Okay, that I understand. But it made no sense to let him croak without finding out what made him do what he did.”

  No reply.

  She’d had enough, so she rose and headed for her room. Maybe by morning he’d have gotten over whatever was bugging him. Or not. And at this point she didn’t care.

  Riley tapped on her door a few minutes later, then wandered in without waiting for a reply. “You need help with that?” she asked, pointing at the open wound on Katia’s arm which she was in the process of re-bandaging. Somehow she’d lost the first one during Chaffin’s rescue.

  “Yeah. I can probably do this one myself, but it won’t be as neat.”

  The master sat on the side of the bed, added a small mound of gauze over the top of the healing wound, then began winding on the bandage. “Couldn’t get Simon to help you?”

  “Didn’t want to ask him. He’s being a jerk.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because he’s mad at the necro.”

  “That might be part of it.”

  “What other part is there?”

  Riley’s eyes met hers now. “Oh, maybe the part where you ploughed on ahead without us? Without telling us what you are seeing, or sensing? Leaving us behind and worried about what was happening to you after you disappeared? Something like that, maybe?” she snapped.

  Oh.

  Katia had done exactly that. Rather than explaining to them what was going on, she’d just done her thing, never considering she might need backup. What if she’d gotten to Chaffin and found it was a trap? She’d had no one to watch her back.

  “Waiting to hear your thoughts on this, Journeyman,” Riley replied. And from her tone she was just as upset as the exorcist.

  “I’m not used to working with people. At least with people who aren’t trying to screw me over.”

  “Do you think we’d do that?” her master asked.

  “No.”

  “Then, as my husband would say, ‘Y’all need an attitude adjustment’.”

  She even sounded like Beck.

  “Because if you don’t, one of these days this solo act thing is going to get you dead, and that will piss off a lot of people. Like me.” She tied off the bandage. “Understood, Journeyman?”

  “Yes, Master Blackthorne.”

  Riley’s expression softened. “It’s hard to trust when you’ve been treated badly, but that changed the morning you got off the bus. Suck it up, get used to working with us, and that way you won’t get Simon’s jerkiness or my lectures. Because I hate sounding three decades older than I am.”

  “Got it. Ah, does Beck really say ‘Y’all need an attitude adjustment’?”

  “He does, though his version is a bit more colorful.”

  After washing her hands, Riley paused at the door to the hallway. “Get some sleep. Chaffin will either live, or not. Either way we have a problem, and we’re going to need your help with it.”

  The door closed behind her with a noticeable click.

  Katia whistled under her breath. “Damn.”

  She’d just gotten her butt kicked, at least verbally.

  “And I totally deserved it.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  The longer Simon spent at Mort’s the more he knew it was time to go home. He was too angry to be around anyone. He was likely to say stuff he’d regret, especially to good friends. He told Mort’s housekeeper he was leaving and to have her employer let him know if he needed him.

  Then he bailed.

  It was only when he was outside that he remembered his car was at home. Going back wasn’t an option, so Simon kept walking until he was on one of the main roads, and then used technology to complete the trip. Fortunately, his ride-share driver didn’t want to chat, which was fine by him. Part of it might have been because of all his bandages.

  To his relief, his house looked like it had the last time he’d been here, which only conjured up a memory that made him even more upset. Instead of coming in through the kitchen, he went to the front door, making him use the entrance from where he and his sister had been kidnapped. Forcing himself to deal with the emotions that act had generated. He didn’t dare push those emotions down, not like he’d done after his near-death experience last year. Instead, he had to deal with them. So he did, furious that some bastard had dared violate his home.

  He’d expected there would be magical residue on the front porch, but there wasn’t.

  Riley.

  Simon bet she’d done something to remove the taint of the foul magic because nothing like that brushed up against him, not like he’d anticipated. The interior of the house was no different, just as it had been before, without any indication that a powerful spell had been tossed at them. It was as if nothing had happened. But it had.

  There was a note on his dining room table that said his sister’s purse had been returned to her and that the house was “clean” of anything magical. As he’d anticipated, Riley had signed the note. She never stopped watching out for him and his family.

  Working around the bandages, he’d gotten as clean as possible then dressed and headed to the one place he knew he’d feel safe; the only place now his home had been invaded. Perhaps attending Mass and spending time in prayer would help him calm his soul. If not, it’d be a really long night.

  After Simon returned home from Mass, he found himself listening for Katia’s car to pull in the driveway. It never did. Instead, she’d sent him a text that said she was staying at Mort’s tonight. There had been no further explanation and Simon knew he didn’t deserve one. He acknowledged her message and then swore under his breath. This was his fault.

  There were times he could be so damned cold-blooded, and the moment he’d realized that the wounded man was the thieving necro, he’d been willing to let the bastard die.

  But at the heart of those emotions was fear, and he knew it. He had been powerless in that other world, or at least it had seemed so. It reminded him of the attack at the Tabernacle, that sense of defenselessness. It was why he was so determined to be the best exorcist possible. If it’d just been him in that realm, that was one thing. But having Dee and Katia there, in danger, brought out his bloodthirsty instincts.

  When he grew tired of sitting in his recliner, staring at nothing, he moved to his backyard. A beer rested on the small table next to him. A beer he’d opened a half hour ago and never touched.