I lowered my head to the cool tile of the kitchen floor, lying on my side, and closed my eyes. I don’t remember a lot about what happened that night. The shifter’s magic tried to break, and my magic blocked. And this seemed to happen over and over again. I never sensed any anger or frustration on the part of the creature, only a relentless determination.

There was darkness and pressure, and I resisted it with everything I had. Then suddenly it was morning, and the sun was streaming in through the windows. The pressure abruptly eased, and I opened my eyes.

Nathaniel sat beside me, cross-legged, on the floor. He was pale and somehow appeared thinner. But he was alive. His eyes had dark circles under them.

“You’re okay,” I said, reaching my hand toward him.

His fingers wrapped around mine. “As are you.”

There was a lot unspoken between us, as usual. And as usual, it didn’t really seem like the time to go into it.

“The shifter’s gone,” I said, slowly easing into an upright position. Every part of me was stiff from spending the night on the kitchen floor.

“Did your magic force it to leave?” Nathaniel asked.

I shook my head. “It was all I could do to keep it out. I think maybe its master called it back.”

“Why was it so difficult for you to hold the creature away?” Nathaniel asked. “I have felt, and seen, the breadth and depth of your power. This should have been child’s play for you.”

I explained my theory about my power being bound up in the darkness inside me.

Nathaniel nodded. “And you did not wish to lose control, yes?”

“I thought that would be a bad thing,” I said.

“We must find a way for you to draw upon that magic again,” Nathaniel said. “Without it, you are too vulnerable to threats.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to do that without becoming a tool of Lucifer,” I said. “No matter how hard I’ve tried, it seems that he’s winning.”

“That is not my Madeline talking,” Nathaniel said. “My Madeline does not give up. She spits in the eye of immortals.”

I gave a little laugh. “Your Madeline is really tired right now.”

“Then you must rest,” Nathaniel said.

And he reached for me. I thought he was going to put his arms around me, help me up or even carry me.

Instead he put his hands around my throat and started to squeeze.

9

His eyes changed, bled from jewel-bright blue to red as I clawed at his hands, kicking my feet in attempt to get away from his killing touch.

Madeline!

Someone was calling me, but I couldn’t tell who it was. My hearing seemed to be fading in and out. Nathaniel’s eyes were disappearing beneath the splotches of black on my vision.

Madeline!

Hands on my shoulders, someone shaking me roughly. A stinging slap across my face, and I opened my eyes, and saw Nathaniel.

I moved without thinking, jerking away from him.

He moved toward me, and I scooted farther away. His eyes were hurt and confused.

“Madeline?”

I put my hand to my throat, which felt sore and bruised. “You were choking me.”

He shook his head. “It was not me. But you were being choked. I could see the shape of hands around your neck as you slept. That is why I woke you.”

It was hard to shake off the sense that Nathaniel was lying to me. It had seemed so real, like the kind of conversation we would have together. Was that the intention? Not to kill me, but to plant a seed of suspicion against someone I trusted?

“It must have been the shifter again,” I said, struggling to rise to my feet. “It wasn’t able to break through the protection I put around the house, but when I fell asleep I was vulnerable and it found a way in. It was a dream, but it seems that if it tries to kill me there, then it will kill me here.”

Nathaniel held out his hand to me, and I took it with some reluctance. It was a mark of the fragility of our relationship that I could believe so easily that he would try to strangle me. I was a little angry with myself about it.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to push away the lingering unease.

“Much better, thanks to Samiel. But do not concern yourself with my health. I have been up and about for several hours. I am much more worried about the notion that the shifter can reach you when you are asleep and hurt you through your dreams,” Nathaniel said as he led me to the dining room. Jude, Samiel and Beezle sat around the table eating waffles and bacon.

“Yeah, Freddy Krueger has nothing on this guy,” I muttered.

“Who?” Nathaniel asked.

“Nobody,” I said. “Just a horror movie character.”

Beezle snorted. “A horror movie character who scared the bejesus out of you until you were about fifteen years old.”

“Apparently I was right to be terrified, because the shifter just tried to kill me in my sleep,” I said as I took my seat at the table. “And how is it that there are waffles and bacon? Wasn’t I lying on the floor in the kitchen?”

“We just stepped around you,” Beezle said. “Some of us were hungry, and we didn’t know if you were going to lie there all day.”

“I was trying to protect the people in the house,” I said. “I wasn’t taking a nap.”

“From what I can hear, you were taking a nap,” Beezle said. “Since Freddy was trying to get you and all of that.”