"You're changing the subject. Whatever." Casey patted the bed. "Come, sit, tell me all about you and Special Agent Thatcher." Then she laughed, a strange little gravelly sound. "Is he as good as you thought he'd be?"

Jenna ran her tongue over her teeth. "Oh, yeah."

Casey grinned and clapped her hands. "Details, Jen, details." Then frowned at Jenna's yeah-right expression. "You're not going to tell me anything, are you''"'

Jenna grinned. "Nope."

Casey grimaced. "Bitch." Then she brightened. "Can I be your maid of honor?"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "Casey, you're impossible."

"But now you'll think about it." Her blue eyes widened. "You have been thinking about it."

Jenna felt her face flame even hotter. The thought had only crossed her mind briefly. Many, many times, but each of them briefly. "Look, Casey, about your final grades for the quarter. Blackman asked me to ask you what else needed to be done."

"Nothing. I finished my themes and left my grades in an envelope on Blackman's desk."

'The Crime and Punishment themes, you mean."

Casey's brow crinkled at the mention of the book's title.

"What?" Jenna asked.

Casey looked troubled. "There's something important about those themes and I can't remember what it was." She bit her lip, then dismissed the thought. "It'll come to me. Anyway, I think I'd look good in blue. Satin. And if you pick a dress with a bow on the butt, you're toast."

Jenna barely heard the threat, her attention snared by the television. Where she'd heard only muted murmurs before, she heard Steven's voice. He was giving another press conference. She held her breath until she realized no more girls had been taken. She thought about the fact that he'd stayed up all night, holding her until her trembles finally stopped, then showered and went off to catch monsters of a different variety. "He looks tired, Casey. I'm worried about him."

Casey patted her hand and said nothing.

Monday, October 10, 2:20 P.M.

He frowned and stowed the bottle of peroxide in the closet with the rest of his darkroom chemicals. Nobody ever checked his darkroom and if they did, all brown bottles looked the same in the dark. Thatcher was upping the ante. And getting a bit personal. He bared his teeth in the mirror on the closet door, annoyed to find he sported no fangs.

He rolled his eyes. So monsters didn't always have fangs, huh? What a lame attempt at a sound bite. He really had thought more of Thatcher.

He smiled sweetly at his own reflection. He didn't have fangs. He had really, really sharp knives that worked even better.

Monday, October 10, 3:00 P.M.

Her first name was Evelyn. "Kasselbaum, Evelyn" read the chart outside the room where Mrs. Kasselbaum lay, still unconscious but stable. Jenna drew a breath and pushed the door open. And stopped. Standing by the small window was Seth, his shoulders hunched.

He turned and his gaze focused in on her throat, covered in the turtleneck sweater. And in his eyes Jenna saw worry and fear. And hurt. He knew. About the knife. I should have told him myself, she thought.

"I'm okay, Dad," she whispered. "Really."

He said nothing. Just stood there and Jenna felt lower than a snake's belly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you."'

He still said nothing. But his throat worked like he wanted to cry and Jenna suddenly understood that she'd wounded him. And she knew it was time to come clean with the whole story.

"Adam's car is wrecked. Dad. Totaled. Last Thursday." He flinched, grew even paler. She drew an unsteady breath. "Casey was driving and went off an embankment. She nearly died." She held her back rigid. "The brakes were cut. I was the one who was supposed to be hurt."

Seth lowered himself into the chair next to Mrs. Kassel-baum's bed. Trembling visibly.

Jenna crossed the room, knelt by the chair. "I should have told you. I'm sorry. I didn't want-"

"To worry me?" Seth finished, his smile bitter and twisted. "I thought we'd settled that last week, Jenna. I thought you trusted me enough to tell me when you're in trouble."

Jenna opened her mouth. Closed it. Didn't know what to say.

Seth sighed. "You are so damn independent. You think you can handle everything and everyone yourself. You make decisions for people, Jen. And you have no right. You think you're a superwoman, that you can manipulate everything to be the way you want it to be." He closed his eyes. "And rob the rest of us of the privilege of caring about you."

Still she didn't know what to say.

"I made a promise to Adam," Seth went on, his throat swallowing convulsively, his eyes still closed. "He made me promise to take care of you. To make sure no one ever hurt you. He made me promise never to tell you, that you'd find some way of…" He faltered. "Of ducking me, he said. He said you were too accustomed to doing things for yourself. Of never trusting anyone to do things for you. Of taking care of you. Why is that, Jenna?"

Jenna shook her head. Adam had been right of course. "I don't know."

Seth opened his eyes and Jenna saw weariness mixed with the hurt. "He said it was because you never grew up with the love and trust of your parents. That you'd been on your own, essentially, since you were a little girl. That you didn't know how to really be a family."

Jenna's feathers ruffled. "My dad loved me."

"But not enough to make your mother stop criticizing you. Not enough to take care of you. Not enough to make sure you knew you didn't have to do everything all alone." He fluttered his hand in the air. "Never mind why. The fact remains that he was right. I can't fulfill my promise to my son, Jenna. You won't let me take care of you. You were almost killed last night and I had to get all the details from Evelyn's nurse."

Jenna let his words sink in and realized he was right, just as Adam had been right. Shaky, she laid her cheek against Seth's knee. And made herself allow him to care about her. Made herself allow him to share what she was feeling. "I was so scared, Dad. I thought he would kill me."

He stroked her hair and said nothing.

"He put the knife to my throat. He tried to cut me open, but I got away and he cut the mattress instead. Jean-Luc bit him and he ran. And knocked Evelyn down on his way out."

His hand on her head trembled, then resumed stroking. "Jenna, you're coming home with me."

Jenna looked up, not sure how he'd take her next words. "I stayed with Steven last night. He wants me to stay with him."

Seth studied her for a long moment. "He cares for you?"

She remembered the way Steven had held her the night before. Like rare china. "Yes."

Seth's eyes narrowed. "And he has a spare bedroom?"

Jenna felt her cheeks heat. "Dad!"

"Well, does he?"

Jenna nodded. "Yes." Then smiled. "And an aunt who doesn't make meat loaf on Wednesdays."

Seth smiled at her and she knew she was forgiven. "Can I come, too?"