He fell off me, rolling onto the sidewalk, his body lit from within by fire. Smoke poured in a dark cloud as he howled.

I stood on legs that trembled no more and faced the dark.

“I am not afraid of you.”

The night seemed to pause, to take my measure one last time. Then it released me.

ANOTHER TIME, AGENT.

And the cloak of darkness suddenly lifted.

3

NATHANIEL AND SAMIEL TUMBLED OUT OF THE SHADOWS, almost as if they had been thrown by gigantic tentacles.

“Samiel. Thank the Morningstar,” I said, rushing to him. I patted him all over, looking for injuries.

He shook his head, signed, Nothing hurt but my pride.

“What did it do to you?” I asked.

“Simply held us immobile so that we could not assist you,” Nathaniel said. He seemed to be gathering the ragged remains of his dignity around him. It probably stung his pride to be dispatched so easily, and so soon after he’d declared he would protect me.

The regular sights and sounds of nighttime seeped back in. I heard cars driving too fast on Addison, the hydraulic lift and lower of a bus pulling to the curb, the jangle of a dog on a leash farther down the block.

I looked at the smoking husk of the Bad Man in alarm. “We’ve got to move that thing before somebody sees. I don’t even want to think about what J.B. will say if he intercepts a nine-one-one call about another dead body on my property.”

I’ll do it, Samiel signed. He lifted the body by its shoulders, wrinkling his nose.

“I know. It smells horrible,” I said apologetically. My own nose was kind of overloaded with the stench and had reached a state of shock.

He looked at me questioningly and I understood what he was asking.

“The shed?” I said helplessly.

“Kind of an obvious place to hide a body,” Beezle said, flying down to my shoulder.

“I see you’ve cleaned up since dinner,” I replied. “Last time, we put the body in the basement and covered it with a tarp and you didn’t approve of that, either.”

“One of these days J.B. isn’t going to intercept a call in time and the cops are going to come sniffing around here,” Beezle said.

“You act like I’m a serial killer trying to hide evidence of my crimes. May I remind you that these monsters that show up at the door are trying to kill me and that I am just defending my life?”

“And is that what you plan on telling the nice detective before he drags you off to the sanitarium?”

“You’ve been watching too many old movies. Besides, do you really think that Lucifer is going to let me get captured by the human authorities?”

“Then why so concerned about the body?” Beezle asked.

“Can’t we just try to act normal for the sake of the neighbors? I already get enough weird looks as it is.”

“Perhaps the two of you would stop bickering long enough to address the problem at hand,” Nathaniel said loudly.

I gave him a bland stare. “This is how we address problems around here, angel-boy.”

He visibly bristled at the “angel-boy,” but his voice was clipped and controlled when he spoke.

“Then why is it neither of you have bothered to ask why the Grimm was here, and why it appeared to be targeting Madeline?”

“You said it’s a creature of Faerie, right? So I’ll just ask J.B. what he knows,” I said, shrugging.

“Duh,” Beezle added.

“And since I get targeted by something new and freaky every other day, it’s hardly notable.” I sighed. It was really sad that the appearance of a creature that had apparently not been seen for hundreds of years was just another footnote in my life.

“Are you going to call J.B. now?” Beezle asked as Samiel rejoined us.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake him up. He’s grumpy when he’s tired,” I said.

I wasn’t sure of the exact time, since I’d fallen asleep on the kitchen floor and woken up in the darkness, but the city had that settling-down feeling. It seemed most people were either in bed or behind locked doors for the night. Anyone who was still out at this time was either young, stupid or dangerous. I felt a trace of uneasiness, but put it down to the lingering effects of the Grimm’s influence. The tattoo on my right palm gave me a nudge, like the comforting touch of a dog’s muzzle.

I was abruptly aware of the deep cold and the fact that I was underdressed, as usual.

“Let’s go in,” I said.

Samiel and Beezle headed for the door. Nathaniel looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

I blew out a breath. I still had to deal with Nathaniel.

Samiel stopped at the top step and turned back to look at me expectantly.

“It’s all right; you guys go ahead,” I said, waving them inside.

Beezle landed on Samiel’s shoulder. “Get me inside before my wings fall off.”

“Let’s stand in the foyer,” I said to Nathaniel. “I’m cold.”

Samiel and Beezle disappeared into Samiel’s apartment. Nathaniel silently followed me into the small space between the outer door and the two inner apartment doors, which he could enter only because I’d invited him to do so.

A small safety light burned over the mailboxes built into the wall. In its glare I could see the dark circles under Nathaniel’s eyes, the blond stubble on his cheeks. The ends of his hair looked choppy, and his white button-down shirt, normally pristine, was actually dirty. All in all, he looked uncharacteristically raggedy.

But I guess that’s what happens when you help foment a rebellion against your highest lord. I imagined Nathaniel hadn’t had much time for manicures or trips to the dry cleaner’s while he was groveling to Lucifer.

“Listen,” I said to him without preamble. “You can’t stay here. You can’t sleep on the porch like a homeless person.”

“Lord Lucifer has charged me—” Nathaniel began, but I cut him off.

“Do we really have to have this conversation all over again?” I said, annoyed. “I know what Lucifer told you to do. I’m telling you that I don’t need a freaking bodyguard.”

“With all of the attacks you say you have suffered, would not it be wise to at least have someone around who can assist you?”

“No offense, but I can think of half a dozen people I’d rather have back me up,” I said frankly. “You haven’t exactly demonstrated your strength in a crisis situation.”

Nathaniel drew himself up haughtily. “I will have you know that Azazel considered me one of his finest warriors.”

“You got captured by Amarantha’s guardians in her forest. And you fell under the influence of her spell.”

“I hardly think that should be held against me. She cast a spell on the whole party,” Nathaniel said angrily.

“Which did not have any effect on me,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, no one seems to be certain why you were immune, so I would not brag about it.”

“You were also captured by the Grimm.”

“As was Samiel,” he said.

“And every time you and I have fought, I have won,” I continued relentlessly. “When you tried to rape me in Amarantha’s castle. When you tried to kill me in Azazel’s ballroom. It seems more likely that I would end up protecting you from the Big Bad Wolf than the other way around.”

“This is why you have always had contempt for me? Because you are stronger, more competent than I?” Nathaniel asked. “If so, then you should lower your standards. I have never known any creature to match you in strength of will save Lord Lucifer himself. You are so much more his child than Azazel’s.”

That gave me pause for a moment, but I couldn’t contemplate my and Lucifer’s shared traits just now.

“Nathaniel,” I began. “I have had contempt for you, yes. It’s an ugly trait, and I’m not thrilled to admit it. But I have felt that way, and it has nothing to do with your strength or weakness.”

“Then why?”

“Because you valued appearance and status above everything else. Because from the moment we met you treated me like a trophy you’d been awarded without having done anything to earn it. Because I believe that you would not choose to do the right thing unless it was also the most useful to your purpose. I believe you value yourself above anything else.”

Nathaniel’s face had gone bloodless during my litany.

“And these are not the traits of a husband—is that it?” he said through his teeth. “These were not the traits of your precious thrall.”

“Don’t call him that,” I spat. “And Gabriel doesn’t come into this.”

“Yes, he does. His shadow has stood between us from the very first, and now his shade will linger there forevermore. How can I compete with a ghost?” he said bitterly.

I looked at him uncertainly. “The way you’re talking, it’s almost like you wanted me as something other than a prize.”

“You never gave me a chance,” he said. “How could I prove that I wanted to be a better man?”

“Do you want that?”

“Does it matter?”

It kind of did matter, because I was starting to wonder if I had horribly misjudged him. And if I had, I had lost the chance to gain at the very least an ally. The Morningstar knows I needed as many allies as I could get.

And yet… Beezle and J.B. had warned me before that I was too trusting. Nathaniel might legitimately want to be my friend. Or he might see me as the clearest path to fulfilling some agenda of his own. This was a time when a little of Lucifer’s foresight would come in handy.

“Did Lucifer strike a deal with you?” I asked. “Did he promise you something in exchange for acting as my bodyguard?”

“He said he would allow me to live,” Nathaniel said. “Although Lord Lucifer understands that I only acted as instructed by the lord of my court, rebellion is still a serious matter.”