I laughed, though grudgingly. Then I swallowed back the moment of humor and fixed him with my steeliest gaze. “Like I told you before, I’ve had a really lousy couple of days. I just want to take a long hot bath and then go to bed. Can you hurry this along a bit?”

His raised eyebrow made me blush, because of course he’d seen me drive up with Brian, and he’d known that meant it wasn’t relaxing I’d had in mind. Luckily for both of us, he let it drop without teasing.

“All I want is to make things right between us. Or at least as right as they can be. What can I do to apologize for my horrendous behavior?”

My first instinct was to tell him to shove his apology where the sun didn’t shine. But I must be gaining a little maturity in my old age, because I managed to squash that first instinct. Things would never be “right” between us as long as he possessed my brother’s body. But since he was offering me something…

“You can tell me your name,” I said, almost holding my breath, wondering if he would do it. The demons adopt their hosts’ names when they’re in the Mortal Plain, but they have names of their own. Names have power for them, though I’ve never been clear what kind of power. Another one of their damned mysteries.

He gave me a long, searching look. “If I tell you my name, will you promise not to address me by it in public or tell it to anyone else?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I said glibly.

He thought for another moment, then nodded. “My name is Raphael,” he said, and I had to fight not to let my jaw drop in amazement.

He’d believed me? I sure as hell wouldn’t have!

Damn. If he was actually trusting me with the knowledge, I might feel honor bound to keep his secret.

“I’ll be your friend, if you let me,” he continued.

“Hell will freeze over first.” Maybe that was mean-spirited of me after he’d just made such a nice peace offering, but I tend to be honest to a fault. And I wasn’t going to pretend we’d be best buds.

The pronouncement made him look very sad, which made me feel like a heel, but I wasn’t about to take it back. He sighed and stood up.

“Be that as it may, I’m here if you need me, Morgan.” He flashed me a sad smile. “I think your Taser landed under the couch.”

“Thanks,” I said, and walked him to the door. He took a step out, and I found myself reaching out and grabbing his arm. I let go hastily, surprised at myself.

He turned back to look at me, waiting patiently for whatever I was going to say. I cleared my throat, wishing I’d just let him go.

I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a coward, at least not most of the time. So I held my head high and met his sad brown eyes.

“I just want you to know, it’s nothing personal,” I said. “You seem like a decent guy, for a demon. But my brother’s dead because of you, and that’s just not something I can forgive.”

“He’s not dead,” Raphael said, his voice gentle.

“He might as well be.” As far as I was concerned, Andy was worse than dead. He was a prisoner, his mind alive in a body he couldn’t control. He could never speak to anyone, never touch anyone, never have any human interaction whatsoever. And I would never understand how anyone could willingly submit to such an invasion, no matter how many heroic deeds it allowed him to do. Maybe that makes me shallow and selfish — that’s certainly what my family thinks — but I can’t change who I am.

Raphael looked like he might say something else, but thought better of it. With a little shake of his head, he turned away and walked to his car.

I woke up to find myself seated at my desk in my study. I blinked a couple of times, groggy, disoriented.

The room was dark, save for the moonlight that streamed through the open curtains of one window. The digital clock perched on top of the bookcase across from me said it was one-thirty.

I groaned. Not again! This sleepwalking shit was really getting on my nerves. As I started to push back from the desk, I noticed the pen clutched in my hand. Then I saw a sheet of paper lying on the desk. I could tell there was some writing on it, but it was too dark to read.

I didn’t feel sleepy anymore. My pulse shot up and my mouth went dry. Maybe I should just tear off that sheet of paper and throw it away without reading it.

Yeah, that’s what I should do. I didn’t want to face any more of my subconscious fears. But instead of listening to my own advice, I reached for the desk lamp and turned it on, shutting my eyes against the glare.

I took a long, deep breath before I opened my eyes and read what I’d written in my sleep.

Morgan, this isn’t your subconscious. You really are possessed, but you’re so powerful in your own right that I can’t get a foothold except when you lower your guard — like when you sleep. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m as unwilling to possess you as you are to host me, but

That was it. All it wrote. No, all I wrote, because there was no way I was possessed. None!

I was so freaked I was shaking. I crossed my arms over my chest and hugged myself.

“Calm down, Morgan,” I told myself. “You know you’re not possessed. Val would have seen it in your aura in Topeka.”

I didn’t feel reassured.

Once again, I tore my note off the notepad and wadded it into a ball. This time, though, throwing it in the trash wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t want those words on that paper to exist.

I grabbed the wad of paper and carried it to the living room. Then I stuck it in the fireplace and burned it. And though I went back to bed and cuddled comfortably under the covers, I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night.

Brian came over at seven the next evening for dinner and sex, not necessarily in that order. I’d been miserable all day from the combo of sleep deprivation and worry. He judged correctly that it was a dinner-first sort of day. And he cooked. Like Val said, he’s a keeper.

That thought made my mood sink even lower. Brian might be a keeper, but I couldn’t see him keeping me indefinitely. Yeah, he talked about moving in together, but let’s get real. He’s your all-around, mom-and-apple-pie nice guy. What was he doing with me, anyway? He should be with some sweet, girl-next-door type. Not some surly exorcist chick with an attitude problem.

Yeah, that’s the kind of mood I was in. And I’ll freely admit I was feeling sorry for myself. Another of my not-so-appealing features. Sometimes I’m secretly jealous of Brian and his normal life. No fanatics in his family. Everyone gets along like family is supposed to. Doesn’t mean they don’t fight sometimes, but it’s healthy fighting, if you know what I mean. He has a nice, steady, safe job — he’s a lawyer, but the boring kind, not the sleazy kind — and he believes that people are good at heart as a general rule. What he sees in me is a total mystery.

I think even your usual unobservant guy would have noticed my mood, so I wasn’t surprised when as soon as the table was cleared, Brian pulled me into his arms for a hug and asked, “What’s wrong?”

I sighed and snuggled into the warmth of his body. “Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

He pushed me away gently then raised my chin with his finger so I’d have to look at him. His whisky-brown eyes were full of concern. “Sleepwalking again?”

I swallowed hard, fighting down a hint of panic as I thought about waking up with that damning piece of paper in front of me. I nodded, not sure I could trust my voice.

Brian smoothed his hands over my hair. “You should see a doctor.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant a physician or a shrink, but I didn’t care either way. “No doctors,” I said, and my voice came out sharper than I meant it to.

I hate doctors. Almost as much as I hate dentists. I never like to be around people who make me feel powerless.