The living room sat to the right of the front door, with a polished hardwood floor and the walls a pale green. Straight ahead was a dining room and then further on, through an archway, a modern kitchen with granite countertops. The other side of the living room seemed to be a storage place for packing boxes, both large and small. A quick count told Katia there were more than twenty of them, all neatly stacked along one wall.

  The side of the room that was furnished had a tufted pale gray sofa, a darker gray recliner, a wood coffee table, but no rugs on the floor nor any art on the walls.

  “I just moved in,” Simon said, sounding apologetic as he placed his exorcism kit on the floor, then shut the door behind them. “Well, two months ago. I haven’t had time to put anything away yet.”

  “Your family didn’t help you?”

  He immediately shook his head. “Don’t want them to. My sisters act like I’m still a kid. At least the oldest one does.”

  Katia sensed this was a familial landmine. Rather than detonate it, she asked what she hoped was a safe question. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  “Seven. Three brothers, four sisters. I’m the middle one—number four out of eight. I love them all, but they can drive me nuts. How about you?”

  Oh God, she’d done this to herself. “One sister, she’s getting married in a few months. Leah works at my dad’s landscaping firm. I tried that and got bored. And I have a younger brother. He’s . . . Kevin’s just sixteen.”

  “Are your parents good with you being a trapper?”

  No. “Ah, you promised me food, right?”

  “Will the lasagna be okay?” he asked, not acting surprised she’d dodged another of his questions.

  “Sounds great.” It really did. “How can I help?”

  “The lasagna’s in the refrigerator. Can you put it in the oven while I take a shower?”

  Katia nodded, if nothing more than to keep him from asking anything more about her family. After Simon headed down a hallway toward what she guessed was his bedroom, she heard a series of doors open and then close. Finally, there was the sound of running water.

  On her way to the kitchen, she noted the round dining room table with only four chairs. What did he do if all his family came for a meal?

  The kitchen was lovely, and Katia took a moment to admire it. White cabinets, dark gray countertops, and new stainless-steel appliances. A small table sat in the corner, this one with only two chairs.

  The exorcist had done well for himself.

  After retrieving the lasagna from the refrigerator, she turned on the oven. Snooping through the mostly empty cupboards, she located a square glass baking pan and moved the lasagna out of its aluminum foil wrapper and into it. Now it was a matter of waiting for the oven to heat.

  While she did, she couldn’t resist taking another look around the house. It was a lovely space, but there was a bleakness here she hadn’t expected. Simon was a positive person, but somehow his home did not reflect that. There were no magazines, no books except for a Bible on the coffee table. It had a bookmark in place, but she resisted the urge to see precisely which passage he’d been reading.

  No television, no stereo, no family pictures.

  And yet Simon Adler had lots of siblings, ones that kept him fed, and appeared to love him. Why was he so isolated? So alone?

  She knew the answer all too well.

  The same family that loved you, would also hurt you.

  EIGHT

  Simon didn’t rush his shower, needing time to think through all that had happened so far. When he finally entered the kitchen, he found the table set for two. Standing in front of the oven, Katia poked an electronic thermometer in the center of the bubbling pan of lasagna. He didn’t even know he had one of those, but then he didn’t know a lot of things nowadays.

  The plates, silverware and glasses on the table, the smell of the food, all that domesticity drove home just how much his job had consumed him. He wouldn’t tell his guest, but this was the first time that table had been used for anything more than a bowl of cereal. The food his family sent over was either still frozen, or eaten as he sat on the sofa in the living room while staring at the blank walls.

  Katia looked up at him and smiled. If he had to guess, she didn’t do that often. “It just needs to sit a few minutes and it’ll be ready. It smells great.”

  Simon pulled himself out of his dark thoughts. “My mom is a really good cook. I didn’t get that gene.”

  “I did, but I don’t get a chance to use it much.”

  He had the sense there was more she wanted to say, but instead she held back yet another part of her history. Was it so awful she couldn’t speak of it, or was it because she didn’t trust him?

  Katia pointed him toward the table, mostly to get him out of her way as she opened drawers, closed them, then opened others until she found what she was looking for. He knew he should help her, but he honestly had no idea where anything was. His older sister, Deanna, had insisted on unpacking all those boxes. At the time he’d just let her, but now he wondered why.

  A few minutes later he had a plate full of lasagna, a few slices of garlic bread, and a mound of steamed peas with a pat of butter on top. A glass of water sat next to his plate, as well as a folded paper towel for a napkin.

  It smelled wonderful. He bowed his head and offered a prayer of gratitude. When he looked up, he found Katia’s eyes on him, and he received another cautious smile.

  “It’s the best meal I’ve had in . . . awhile. Thank you,” he said. “I had no idea I had any peas, or the bread for that matter.”

  “They were in the freezer. And thank you for all this. I’ve been living on nothing for so long that—”

  He could tell the moment she’d realized she revealed another secret. Though he desperately wanted to eat, he set his fork aside. “Katia,” he began.

  Her eyes rose to his and he could almost see her pleading for him not to go there. He had no choice: Demons exploited weaknesses and though she wasn’t an exorcist, she was working with one. That made her a valuable target.

  “Tell me more about yourself.”

  She didn’t reply, a forkful of lasagna vanishing into her mouth.

  “You have a sister and a brother and—”

  The now empty fork dropped to her plate with a clatter. Then she began to choke. Simon rose and slapped her on the back until she signaled she was okay.

  He returned to his chair and began to eat, giving her time to recover. The peas were done just right and the lasagna reminded him of boisterous family meals. While he ate, his companion stared at her plate. He’d clearly touched a nerve, but if he didn’t push this, now, one or both of them might die.

  “You know Hellspawn exploit our secrets,” he said quietly. “If there’s something I need to know about you, about your family, tell me. I won’t judge you.”

  Katia’s eyes snapped up, fiery now. “Judge me? You?”

  Simon held his breath—she was about to explode, and that might be the only way he’d find out what was hiding inside her head.

  “You can’t judge me!” she snapped. “You live like a hermit. You haven’t even unpacked your boxes and you’ve been here two months. Two months!”

  “Closer to two and a half,” he admitted.

  “That’s even worse. It’s like you don’t really live here. You’re just phoning it in.”

  “Not when it comes to the demons,” he protested.

  “Yeah, I got that. You’re 150% all over those bastards. But what about the rest of your life? It’s like you don’t expect to last until the end of the week and so you’re saving your family the hassle of packing up your stuff after the funeral.”

  That hit hard. “I’ve been too busy,” he said, his temper growing.

  “So busy you couldn’t even buy your own food or put your stuff away in your new home?” She leaned forward now, arms on both sides of her plate. “You love this place, but why are you here? I mean, really here?”

  “I have to live somewhere.” The excuse sounded lame, and he knew it.

  With an angry shake of her head, Katia scooped up her plate and fork and left him behind, muttering under her breath as she headed to the living room.

  Simon stared at her empty chair, astonished at her outburst. Once his anger lessened, he carefully replayed what had just been said, then winced. Yes, he’d been busy, the need for exorcisms increasing each week. But . . .

  Had he really believed he was going to survive this job? In all honesty, no. He’d always figured he was just one exorcism away from death. Katia had seen right through him. He had been phoning in his personal life, living in the shadows between each exorcism. Why else had he not bothered to unpack his stuff? Why else had he turned down going out with friends, spending time with his family? Why else hadn’t he taken the sabbatical that Father Rosetti constantly recommended?

  Instead he’d taken his guilt and honed it into a weapon, not for wielding against Hell, but against himself. He’d been more effective at that than any of Lucifer’s spawn.

  There was the sound of a fork on china from the living room.

  She was sent here for a reason. Perhaps it wasn’t just about the demons.

  Simon collected his plate and silverware. It was time to face Katia’s anger and to tell his story. Maybe then she’d tell him hers.

  Katia’s irritation at the holier-than-thou guy in the kitchen had begun to fade once she’d put some space between them. She ate mechanically now, refusing to let him ruin this great meal. As she did, dust motes danced in the light coming in through the windows, illuminating the bareness of the room.

  She shouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t know Simon, didn’t know what he’d been through, and yet she had judged him. If it had been the other way around, she’d be really angry.

  He quietly crossed to the coffee table, set down his plate and glass, and returned to the kitchen. Then he was back, placing her glass of water in front of her because she’d not bothered with it during her escape.

  Settling on the other end of the sofa, he began to eat again. Only after his plate was empty did he finally speak.

  “You’re right. I’ve been living like every day is my last. I didn’t see I was doing that, but you are completely right.”

  Katia wasn’t used to guys admitting they were wrong, so she leaned back against the sofa cushions. He wasn’t messing with her, his expression sincere. “Why do you do that?”

  “Because I only see the great task set before me.”

  “Exorcising the fiends?” He nodded. “You’re obsessed?” Another nod, more grudging now. “Why?”

  His eyes darted away from her. If she kept pushing, he’d push back and then the truth would come out.

  Maybe it should.

  “I betrayed Riley to the Demon Hunters,” he said. “We were dating, it was all going good, then I was gutted by a Three. Almost . . . literally.” His eyes returned to hers now, but she didn’t think he was seeing her.

  “We held our meetings at the Tabernacle downtown. It was a de-sanctified church that they used for concerts. We always met inside a Holy Water circle to keep ourselves safe.” He swallowed heavily. “The Holy Water was fake. The demons came—both Pyro-Fiends and Gastro-Fiends. They killed so many of us, burned some of them alive.”

  “God . . . that’s how you were hurt?”

  “Yes. A Gastro-Fiend took me down, ripping—” He exhaled slowly, his hand moving to his abdomen now, though she doubted he knew it. “Riley stopped it from killing me.” He paused, then huffed. “With a folding chair, of all things.”

  Having met Master Blackthorne, that she could believe. “How did you betray her?”

  “Riley agreed to owe Heaven a favor in trade for my life.”

  Katia blinked, confused. “But how—”

  “An angel actually healed me. One minute I was dying, and then I wasn’t. I still dream about that. So what did I do? Did I step back and think through all that had happened? Did I thank Riley for saving me at the Tabernacle?” He sucked in a breath. “No, not me. I was so damned smug I thought my faith was sufficient armor against all evil, and I’d never get hurt because I was so righteous. Instead, I listened to someone who spun lies about her. I told the Vatican about Riley and the Fallen, and they came after her. I betrayed my girlfriend, Katia. I betrayed the one who saved my life.”

  “Was the Fallen the one you call Ori?” she asked, still trying to process everything he’d just revealed.

  “Yes. But I had my own Fallen whispering lies into my ear. His name was Sartael. He planned to overthrow the Prince, take control of Hell. He came damned close.”

  She put all the pieces together. “You believed a Fallen angel’s lies and betrayed your girlfriend to Rome?”

  “Yes,” Simon said, his answer a mere whisper. “They might have executed her for what she’d done. Thank God they didn’t.”

  “Has she forgiven you?” Katia asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why haven’t you forgiven yourself?”

  He jerked at the question. “I don’t know.” At that his eyes met hers. “What is it about your brother that makes you freak? I see it every time he’s mentioned.”

  As she opened her mouth to tell him to shut the hell up, he pushed home. “What is your secret, Katia? I’ve told you mine. Now it’s your turn.”

  Oh God. She took a long sip of water, then set the glass back on a coaster. Her hand shook, and, of course, Simon noticed it.

  “I promise I won’t judge you. I just need to know the truth.”

  He was right, he had to know. Hell would use anything they could against them, even her own brother.

  “Because I was an apprentice, Kevin was fascinated with the trappers and wanted to join the Guild after he graduated from high school. My parents refused to consider it. Since they kept nagging at him, Kev started hanging with some guys who were into the supernatural. One night they got drunk and tried to summon a demon. The summoning worked.”

  This didn’t seem to surprise Simon. “Is his soul still his own?”

  “Yes. I had one of the trappers test him. Kev’s been in a coma since that night. His buddies left him behind. It’s lucky I found him before he died.”

  There was more. So much more. Did she dare tell him?

  As if he somehow knew, he urged, “Go on. Tell me all of it.”

  “Right after Kevin was hurt, the first Three I trapped came with a message: If I gave Hell my soul, my brother would wake up from his coma.”

  She expected the next question. When it didn’t come, she frowned.

  Just ask me, dammit.

  Instead, Simon went to where his black case sat by the front door. He unlatched it and removed a small metal vial, and when he returned, gestured toward her. Holy Water. A trapper was expected to undergo such a test whenever requested, even though she had just passed one this morning. If she refused, the exorcist would be required to report that refusal to Master Blackthorne.

  Katia’s heart hammered. Her soul was hers, but this had to be papal Holy Water. What if it was different somehow?

  Simon murmured something under his breath and then allowed a drop of the liquid to fall on her palm. A tingling sensation spread up her arm, but there was no sign of Hell’s mark.

  “As I expected,” he said, smiling.

  What? “Then why did you test me?”

  “Because sometimes we need to see the proof with our own eyes. You included. You blame yourself for what happened to your brother. Why?”

  “Because I wanted to be a trapper. That’s why he got so interested in all this.”

  “Ah,” Simon replied. He carefully capped the Holy Water. “Kansas doesn’t have any newspapers, television? No social media? He could only know about the demons and the trappers because of you?”

  These were such elementary questions that she blanked for a moment. Then it hit her. “No. One of the kids at school almost died when a Three attacked him.”

  “Your brother knew the boy?”

  “Yeah. They were good friends and . . . ”

  With a deep sigh, Simon looked to the ceiling, as if for guidance, then back at her. “Time for confession, I think. I’ve been stupid. I’ve have been paying penance for a sin that has already been forgiven. What about you?”

  Just say it. “And I’ve been throwing myself at the demons, over and over, racking up the scars because I will not give up my soul to save my brother.”

  “You’ve been paying for his mistake. It was his to make, not yours.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks before Katia could stop them. She blotted at them with her shirt sleeve, then nodded. “You’re right. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  “There is only one Katia Breman in this world,” Simon said softly. “The fiends know that and they’d love nothing more than to destroy you, even if they have to guilt you into doing it to yourself.” He sighed. “Don’t let them win. They’re not worth it.”

  Through the tears she looked up at him. “It goes both ways. There’s only one Simon Adler. You’ve paid for your mistake over and over because the demons never let you forget it.” She took a deep breath. “Time to knock it off, dude.”

  He burst out in laughter, followed by a broad smile. “Ori was right, you are here for a reason.”

  “Prove you’re moving on,” Katia said, feeling the need to challenge him. She pointed. “Open one of those boxes.”