I didn’t think the kitchen was big enough for the both of us, so I moved to my dining room. I probably moved a little too quickly, because Saul gave me a funny look. I pretended not to notice as I sat down at the table and paid more attention to my coffee than it was worth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Saul refill his mug. Unfortunately, he didn’t take my subtle “Leave me alone” hint and came to join me at the table.

“You don’t like me,” he said.

I can’t deal with drama before my morning coffee on the best of days. I fixed him with a steady look.

“I don’t know you well enough not to like you. I just don’t want a baby-sitter. Now can you let me drink my coffee in peace?”

“You’re upset that I’ve taken this particular host.”

So much for drinking my coffee in peace. I shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible in the hopes he’d just drop it and shut up. “You didn’t have a choice, so I can hardly blame you.”

“But you do anyway.”

I seriously considered splashing my coffee in his face. Of course, being a demon, he’d probably like it. “Look, Saul. I’ll tolerate having you here because it’s not worth the energy to fight with Lugh about it. But that doesn’t mean I have to have heart-to-heart talks with you. It’s nothing personal, but I need you to shut up right now.”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, then seemed to think better of it. I nodded my approval, and that was the end of our breakfast conversation.

Afterward, I took him downstairs and introduced him to the front desk clerk—though I said he was my guest, not my roommate. I saw his disapproving glance, but pretended not to. I had his name officially recorded on my “okay to let into the elevators without calling me first” list. His was the only name on it. And then, with the utmost reluctance, I had the front desk issue him his very own key.

Adam saved Saul and me from a morning of prolonged awkwardness by showing up at ten, just as we were finishing off the last of the way-too-strong coffee.

“Ready to go have a word with our dear friend Barbara?” Adam asked me with a fierce grin.

The grin made me shudder. Adam could be one scary dude when he wanted to be, and however much I hated PI Barbie right now, I wasn’t sure she deserved to have Adam sicced on her.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll let me go chat with her by myself?” I asked.

“It’s my house she broke into.” His grin became even more ferocious. “Besides, I can put the fear of prison into her. She did commit a crime, you know.”

Knowing Adam, I didn’t think prison was going to be the scariest thing he’d threaten Barbie with. It was kind of amazing how many laws Adam managed to break while being a police officer. And that he always seemed to get away with it. The Philly PD had never been the poster child for incorruptibility, but I could scare myself thinking about how much leeway the officers apparently had.

The good news was that Saul didn’t get to accompany us for this interview. He would remain in my apartment “keeping watch.” I think that basically meant “keeping out of the way.” And for just a moment as Adam and I were leaving, I met Saul’s eyes and got the feeling he thought the same thing. I might even have felt a bit bad for him if I weren’t still in so much pain myself.

Adam didn’t disturb my silence as we took the elevator down to the garage level and then made our way to the visitors’ parking area in an unpleasantly secluded corner. When I climbed into his unmarked, I put on my seat belt and let my head fall back against the headrest as I closed my eyes. I’d gotten plenty of sleep last night, but I still felt like I could sleep another week.

I swore I could feel Adam’s eyes on me for a long moment before he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. I knew I wasn’t acting like my normal self, but I couldn’t help it. Eventually, I’d dredge up some anger, and with that anger would come energy. But for now, all I felt was … depression, I suppose.

I must have totally spaced out for a bit, because when next I was aware of my surroundings, we were parallel parked on one of the seedier sections of Broad Street and Adam was staring at me. We could have driven five minutes or five hours—my senses were so scrambled I doubt I’d have known the difference.

Trying to shake the fog out of my brain, I unhooked my seat belt and gave Adam an annoyed glance. “What?”

He pursed his lips, and I had the impression he was trying to decide what to say. I hoped he’d decide on nothing, but I wasn’t that lucky.

“Are you up to this?”

I looked for the surge of indignation a question like that would usually inspire, but I couldn’t seem to muster it. Instead, I shrugged. “Probably not, but let’s do it anyway.” I started to get out, but Adam grabbed my arm. Again, I thought I should object but couldn’t be bothered.

“There’s no point in you coming with me if you’re just planning to sit there and pout.”

I tried a glare, but I didn’t think there was much heat behind it. “I’ve just had my heart broken. Forgive me if I’m a little down.”

His glare was much more effective. “Down is one thing. Dead is another. And dead is what you’ll end up if you don’t snap out of it and fast!”

I searched my brain for a good retort, but none came to mind. My vision blurred for a moment, and the next thing I knew, I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.

“Morgan needs some time,” Lugh said through my own mouth. “I’ll fill in for her until she’s ready to participate again.”

If I needed proof positive that I was in bad shape, I now had it. I hadn’t made any attempt to lower my mental barriers, and yet Lugh had been able to take control without the faintest hint of resistance on my part. And though I should have felt alarmed—I was too much of a control freak at heart to appreciate being a passenger in my own body—I merely felt… relieved. Adam was right: I wasn’t up to interviewing PI Barbie.

Adam didn’t look much happier than he had a moment ago. “Should we be … worried?” he asked.

Lugh shook his head. “I feel confident she’ll make a full recovery.”

That makes one of us, I thought at him, but he didn’t bother to answer the thought.

We got out of the car and entered a small office building that might have been a bail bonds office in a past life. Barbie’s office was toward the back, down a dismal hallway that had needed new carpet about twenty years ago. One of the ceiling tiles sported an impressive rust brown water stain, and the paint on the walls had so many scuffs you could almost mistake them for stripes. To enhance that aura of genteel respectability, the letters on Barbie’s door proclaimed ARBARA PA ET, RIVATE INVE TIGAT ON.

I couldn’t help wondering how the hell Barbie could afford to keep her sister at The Healing Circle if this was the best she could do for an office.

How the hell did an old money tycoon like Maguire end up hiring a bargain-basement PI? I thought at Lugh.

Good question, he answered.

Adam knocked on the door, and Barbie told him to come in. She had her back to us when we walked in, her nose buried in a battered metal filing cabinet. Her office itself looked a little better than the hallway, though it didn’t exactly scream of astounding financial success. At least it was neat, and the furniture, though no doubt secondhand, didn’t look like it had been stolen from a Dumpster.

Barbie stopped messing with the filing cabinet, shoving the drawer closed with a good bit of muscle. Even so, it got stuck about six inches short of fully closed. She gave it a bang with the heel of her hand, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn thing,” she muttered under her breath, then finally turned and saw Adam and me.