Silly me. When I’d thought about—and then rejected—the idea of telling him the truth before, my rationalization had always been that telling him would drag him into the middle of the demon civil war. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might hear what I had to say and decide he wanted nothing more to do with me. But that’s what the look on his face suggested at the moment.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” I said as gently as I knew how. “You could probably use a little time to figure out what you think and feel about it. You should be safe, at least for the time being. Maybe you should go home and sleep on it. We can talk again tomorrow, and I can answer any questions you have.” Of course, I’d be very picky about which questions I’d answer and how. “The only thing I’d ask of you tonight is that you don’t call the police. And don’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“The only thing you ask,” he said, laughing bitterly. “You’re asking me to be an accessory to murder.”

“I’m asking you to trust me. You know how I feel about demons. But this one,” I said, patting my chest, “I need to protect. Please.”

He thought it over for what felt like twelve hours, then nodded. He fixed me with the coldest, most implacable stare I’d ever seen. “I won’t call the police. And I won’t tell anyone you’re possessed. At least not yet. You’re right that I need a little time to think. So I’m going to go home, and I’m going to think. Then tomorrow, we’re going to talk. And Morgan, I’d better like your answers.”

I hated having him look at me like that. I hated the hurt that pounded in my chest, and the tears that stung my eyes.

We all jumped when Adam cleared his throat from the basement doorway. He was standing between Brian and the front door, and though he was trying to look casual, his hand was hovering near his gun.

“Um, do you really think that’s a good idea?” he asked, looking back and forth between me and Brian.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled with unease. I didn’t much like Adam the demon, but I didn’t know anything about Adam the human. Was he as much of a badass as his demon? He didn’t have the hard, scary look on his face that Adam often had…but then his hand was near his gun.

Trying to look casual, I edged forward to put myself in the line of fire. The slight raise of Adam’s eyebrows showed me I hadn’t been as subtle as I’d thought.

“If Brian says he’ll keep this to himself, he will,” I said. “He’s not one to break promises.”

Adam chewed that one over for a bit. “A—My demon wouldn’t let him leave. You know that.”

I nodded slowly, because there was no question what Adam the demon would have done. “But he’s busy right now, and you’re in charge. Brian’s an innocent bystander, and he’s given his word. I have more to lose than anyone. I could be burned alive if I’m wrong. I’m that confident he’s not going to break his word.”

Adam grimaced. “Well. My demon’s going to have some choice words for me about this, I’m sure.” His hand moved away from the gun, and he stepped out of the way so Brian could move past him.

Brian didn’t say a word to anyone. After one last look at the bloodstains on the carpet, he made a bee-line for the door. He slammed it when he left.

We finished cleaning up the carpet with as little conversation as possible. Adam had some enzymatic cleanser he poured onto the remaining stain, and he swore that after it sat and worked for a while, we could soak it up and the carpet would look as good as new. I didn’t want to know how he knew that.

“Well,” Adam said when we were as done as we could be for the time being. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I could use a stiff drink after all that.”

“Thanks,” Andy said, “but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to go home for a while. I’ve had about all I can take.”

I noticed that his hands were shaking, and I had to fight off a ridiculous urge to throw my arms around him and assure him that everything would be all right. I glanced nervously at the ceiling, then back at Adam.

“Do you think Dom will be all right alone while you drive us back to the apartment?”

Andy interrupted before Adam could answer. “I’ll call a cab. And I’m going back to my apartment. Der Jäger’s out of the way, at least for now, and I want to take advantage of the reprieve.”

I frowned. “Yeah, but you were staying with me because of Raphael, not Der Jäger.”

Andy’s face took on a grim set. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in hiding. I’m a lot stronger now and I can take care of myself.”

“Andy—”

“Are you forgetting our conversation earlier today?”

The words hit me like a slap in the face. I guess I sort of had allowed myself to forget. If our positions had been reversed, I don’t think I’d have much wanted to go home with me, either.

“I understand why you did it,” Andy said, “but that doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

And then he, too, left in anger. Once again, my eyes started burning. I hate crying, and I do it as little as possible. But right now, I wanted nothing so much as to bury my head against someone’s shoulder and bawl my eyes out.

I jumped when Adam gave me a pat on the back. “Come on,” he said. “Have a seat and I’ll get you that drink.”

“I should get home,” I said hoarsely, but when he gave me a little push toward the couch, I went.

Adam disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, I heard the distinctive whine of an espresso machine. Not the kind of drink I’d been expecting, but probably better in the long run. I like some of the fruity, froo-froo drinks where you can’t taste the alcohol, and I can choke down a rum and Coke in an emergency, but I’d expected him to give me some kind of manly-man drink like Scotch on the rocks. I felt miserable enough that I’d have forced it down, but I wouldn’t have liked it.

He returned shortly with two steaming mugs. The aromatic, slightly bitter scent of espresso blended with the sweet scent of hazelnut. He put the two mugs down, and I saw that mine was heavily creamed while his was black. I wrapped both hands around the mug and inhaled deeply.

“Hazelnut espresso, eh?” I said. “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

He smiled as he picked up his own mug. “There isn’t. Your cup’s heavily spiked with Frangelico. I know you’re not really fond of hard liquor, but that stuff ought to be sweet enough to be drinkable.”

I blinked at him. “You know my taste in drinks?”

He took a sip of his coffee. “I know just about everything Adam…er, my demon knows about you. He almost never shuts me out.”

I sipped my own coffee. He was right—the liqueur was so sweet, and the espresso so strong, that I barely tasted the alcohol. “This is really good.”

“Thanks. But drink it slow. It’ll sneak up on you if you let it.”

For maybe five minutes, we sat together on the couch in companionable silence, sipping our coffees. I might not taste the alcohol much, but I definitely felt its mellowing effects. I wondered just how much Frangelico he’d put in my cup, then decided I didn’t want to know.

“Don’t you have some questions you’d like to ask me while my demon’s not around?” Adam asked.

Usually, I managed to squelch my curiosity about Adam and anything demon. But either I was desperately in need of the illusion of friendship, or the liqueur had mellowed me more than I realized, because just this once, I gave in to temptation.

“Yeah. I guess I do, if you don’t mind talking.”

He settled more comfortably into the couch. “Not at all. I’ve got about a twenty-four-hour sabbatical. I’d like to take advantage of it.”

“Do you want him back?” I blurted before I could think better of it.

Adam smiled. “Yeah, I want him back. We make a pretty good team.”

“So you actually like him?” I sounded incredulous, even to my own ears.

Adam stared into his cup, swirling the remains around absently. “I’ve known him a lot longer, and I know him a lot better, than you. I don’t always agree with his methods, and I know his people skills could use work at times, but he’s a really good guy. So yeah, I like him.”