Osh applied one final piece of duct tape, then slapped it into place, causing a muted groan to escape his patient. “Good as new,” he said. Then he grew serious. “But if this gets nasty, he’ll be no use to us in this condition.” He winked at me before grabbing his supplies and leaving.

“I’ll be around,” Angel said. “Just shout if you need me.”

“Why?” I asked before he could disappear.

“Why?”

“Why are you here? What are you two up to?”

I didn’t miss the warning glare that Reyes flashed him. He chewed on his lower lip, and said, “I’m just looking out for you.”

Before I could push the subject, he vanished.

I crossed my arms over my chest and focused on my husband. “Why are you not sleeping?” I asked him, deciding to address his health instead of my curiosity about what Reyes had been up to with Angel.

He eased onto the bed, his large frame taking up most of its surface. “I can’t let my guard down.”

“Reyes,” I said, straddling his hips, not an easy feat in my current state, “Osh was right. If you don’t sleep, you won’t be able to bring your A-game should things go south out here. It’s like we’re in a pot of hot water and someone is slowly turning up the heat. We can’t stay out here forever. The hounds will figure out a way in. I can feel it.”

His mouth widened into an appreciative grin when I crawled onto him, as though completely dismissing everything I’d just said. He rested his hands on my hips. “I’m learning about them,” he said at last.

I leaned over him, tucked a lock of hair over his ear, ran my fingers along the outline of his lips. “About who?”

“The hounds. I’m learning how to fight them.”

I bolted upright. “Is that why you continued to antagonize them even after you realized the holy ground wouldn’t kill them?”

He lifted a playful brow. “Antagonize them?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Something like that.”

“But you’re stopping, right? You said you’re stopping.”

“I’m stopping.”

I lay down beside him. “What happened when you pulled them onto holy ground? I mean, did they writhe in agony?” I bounced up. “Did they smoke like the ground was burning the flesh off their bodies?”

He tucked an arm behind his head in thought. “That’s just it,” he said, his voice curious. “It didn’t seem to faze them at all.”

“I don’t understand. The consecrated soil didn’t hurt them?”

He shook his head. “Not even a little.”

*   *   *

I lay awake, listening to Reyes’s even breathing, but I now knew he was faking it. Had been faking it for eight months. My right foot was more asleep than he was. His revelation about the hellhounds kept my mind racing in overdrive. If the ground didn’t hurt them, then why weren’t they crossing it to rip out our throats? Maybe it did hurt them, just not visibly. They were freaking hard to see. Perhaps they were more focused on tearing my husband apart.

Or maybe they were simply waiting, patrolling the border to keep tabs on us. But why? What could they be waiting on?

My phone rang, but due to the limited number of electrical outlets in the room, Piper, my phone, was way across the other side. True, the room was tiny, but I’d still have to get out of bed to answer her summons.

I tried to roll out of Reyes’s arms. He tightened his hold. I tried to lift an arm off me, but he clasped his fingers, essentially locking me in.

“Reyes,” I said, stifling a giggle, “I know you’re awake. You can give up the game.”

“Never,” he said into his pillow.

I laughed and leaned all my weight forward until he finally let go. By the time I got to Piper, my voice mail had picked up. It was Uncle Bob, so I put on my robe, tiptoed out of the room, and called him right back.

“Are you still at work?” I asked him, looking at the clock before I closed the door to a pretend sleeping Reyes. It was 1:32 A.M.

“We found him,” he said, his voice hurried. “You won’t believe this. He works for the Vatican.”

“No,” I said, adding a flare of astonishment to my voice.

“Freaking hell, Charley, did you already know that? Are you the one who called in with the tip?”

“No.” Though I sounded super convincing, Ubie didn’t buy it.

“Charley—”

“I suspected. It’s a long story. So, what’s going on?”

“We can’t hold him, hon. He says he had nothing to do with the murder. Says your dad was following him, not the other way around. But we do have enough to charge him with stalking if you will press charges. Just say the word, pumpkin.”

“Does he know anything about Dad’s murder?”

Uncle Bob let out a long breath. “He says no. Says your dad threatened him if he didn’t stop following you, then that’s the last he saw of him.”

“He’s lying.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, he wasn’t just following me. Look at the pictures in his apartment.”

“What pictures? There aren’t any.”

Damn it. He got rid of the evidence. Must have sent it all back to his boss at the Vatican. “He had pictures of Dad on his wall.”

“You’ve been stuck at that convent for eight months. How do you know that?”

“I’ve been working with someone on it.”

“Even after I asked you not to?”

“Kind of. He had pictures of Dad.”

“Well, we got nothing now. And because he checks out, I can’t hold him.”

An idea hit me hard. As well as the corner of a hutch as I tried to traverse the house in the dark. I walked into the living room to hang with Mr. Wong.

“Put him on the phone,” I said.

“Charley, I can’t do that.”

“Tell him who you’re talking to and tell him Father Glenn sends his love.” I’d suspected he knew Father Glenn, a man I’d helped with a nest of demons a few months ago, for a while now. He was the one who told me about the file the Vatican had on me. I wondered if they were connected somehow.

“Okay. Hold on.”

After a few minutes, a timid male voice came on the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Blondie,” I said, “been stalking anyone I know lately?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Have you told the Vatican yet?”

“Told them what?”

“That your cover has been blown.”

“Again, I don’t know what—”

“How about we skip all this and get to the heart of the matter?” I didn’t give him time to respond. I was hoping to disorient him so he’d slip up. “You tell my uncle, and you know damned well he’s my uncle, who was following my dad. You had pictures of him and another man. Hand those over, and I won’t tell anyone at the Vatican what a royal fuckup you are, capisce?”

He didn’t say anything, which meant he was considering my offer.

“In turn, you can keep doing your Vatican crap, whatever the hell that’s all about, and just do a few side jobs for me every once in a while, starting with a nun that died at this convent. I want her name and what happened to her. I also want to know what kind of trouble the priest that vanished was in.”

“Which convent?”

“Dude, seriously, if you start playing games with me now, I will stop your heart in your chest. Funny thing is, you know I can do it. You’ve been stalking me for years. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Silence.

“Angry, Howard. It makes me feel angry.”

“If they find out—”

“You’ll lose your job?” I scoffed. “You’re about to lose it anyway. You’ve been busted by your mark. A mark who is going to rain hellfire down on your boss’s city. How do you think that will end?”

“I’m just an observer. I don’t do research.”

“Bullshit. Try again.”

He sat thinking over his options, but the fact was, he didn’t have any. Not if he didn’t want to lose his cushy job.

“O—”

Before he could even finish the okay part, I said, “Get that picture you have of my dad and that other man to my uncle tonight and find out about the nun and the priest. You have two hours.”

When I was met with only silence again, I said, “Howard, give the phone back to my uncle now. You’re burning moonlight.”