She raised an eyebrow.

"Nowhere," he emphasized. "I don't care if Death herself comes for you."

"It's not like I have a chance to call you when you disappear," she pointed out. "You want me to tell Death to wait till you get back?"

His silver gaze swept over her.

"No more scarves. Or alcohol."

She rolled her eyes. There was one bed --a California king --in what she now realized was a plain hotel room. She flung herself onto her back and stared at the ceiling. He sat at the window overlooking the street two dozen stories below.

"You need only say my name, and I'll come to you," he grated at last, as if the words cost him a hefty bet. "Like you did when those immortal sons of bitches attacked you in Ireland."

"Some sort of monster psychic connection between us?"

He gave her a scathing look. She sighed, exhausted.

"Thanks for rescuing me again. You can teach me how to defend myself against monsters if you get tired of bailing me out."

"It's my duty," he said, eyes returning to the street.

"Thank you anyway."

He bristled. She assumed he was angry with her again for some reason. When she felt the cool touch of the shadow world, she sat up straight.

"Gabriel!" she exclaimed, her gaze going to Rhyn.

To her surprise, the monster didn't leap up and attack him. If anything, he ignored the death dealer.

"Sorry, Rhyn. I should've asked first," Gabriel said with a glance toward the window.

Rhyn shrugged.

"Gabriel, you have to tell Kris that Jade is working with Sasha!" she exclaimed. "He can't know."

"He doesn't," Gabriel confirmed, and sat in an armchair near Rhyn.

"Do you know?"

"Of course."

"Why the hell…is this that damn I-don't-interfere-in-other-people's-business thing?" she demanded.

"Something like that," Gabriel said with mild amusement.

"Can you tell him I told you to tell him?"

"No."

"Can you take him a note?"

"Why do you give a fuck, girl?" Rhyn snapped.

"He's your brother, Shapeshifter," Gabriel chided.

"Brother?" she repeated. She stared at Rhyn. "You're one of the seven Ancients."

"Who spent the last million years in Hell, thanks to Kris."

At the warning note in Rhyn's icy tone, she fell quiet. He wasn't a patient creature, whatever he was. She crossed to the small desk and rustled around for the complimentary paper and pen.




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