The girls came charging around the corner of the house—Izzie in pigtails, Claire sans glasses, and Laurel sporting a green beauty mask caked to her face.


“What is happening?” Claire demanded, eyeing the gathering with arms akimbo. “When did you arrive, Molenaar?”


“I wish I had not come now!” He glared at Eve.


“You shouldn’t be sneaking around in the middle of the night,” she argued.


Gadara turned his head to look at her, his gold hoop earring catching the light and glinting. “Were you defending us from a perceived threat?”


“It’s dark. With that thing on his head and back, I couldn’t tell what he was. And where the hell are your guards?”


“Right here.” A dark shape appeared from around the corner, his stride surefooted and confident. Eve recognized the voice as belonging to Diego Montevista, Gadara’s chief of security and one badass Mark. “Chasing down some delinquent teenagers. But there should be two guards here.”


“On point, sir,” Mira Sydney replied from her position on the stoop. As large and forbidding as Montevista was, Sydney was the polar opposite. Fair to his dark, petite to his bulk. But she was his lieutenant, and it was clear they had developed a strong affinity. “When you went after the trespassers, we closed ranks and moved inside.”


Gadara stepped closer to Eve. He pressed his wrist to her forehead and his gaze narrowed. She looked back at him with a challenging tilt to her chin. She felt as if she was burning up and knew he had to feel it, too.


“Well done,” he said. Nothing more.


“Excuse me?” Molenaar protested. “She almost killed me!”


“You should not have been tardy this morning, Mr. Molenaar,” Gadara dismissed. “Then this misunderstanding would not have happened.”


Laurel spun on her heel and stomped away. “This is ridiculous,” she tossed over her shoulder, “and I’m tired. Good night.”


“I will walk with you, bella,” Romeo offered, jogging after her.


Richens snorted in disgust. “That’s devotion if he can still shag her with that shit on her face.”


“Mr. Richens.” Gadara’s voice was disapproving, as was his frown. “You will keep such vulgar thoughts to yourself. Please show Mr. Molenaar into the house and help him settle in.”


“I’m hungry,” Molenaar said, shrugging off his rucksack.


“You’re always hungry,” Ken scoffed.


Claire yawned. “I am returning to my bed.” Her gaze settled on Eve. “Please do not wake me when you come in.”


Eve’s return smile was forced.


A cell phone with a Handel’s Messiah ringtone rang inside the men’s quarters. Her brows rose.


Gadara smiled. “That would be mine, of course.”


“Of course.” Archangels with cell phones, such was her life. Ready to crawl under a rock, Eve offered a brief wave, then moved around him. “I’m calling it a night.”


“You should wait a moment, Ms. Hollis,” he suggested. “Cain will insist on speaking with you.”


“How do you know—” Eve stopped. Of course he would know, he was an archangel.


“Because I ceased communicating with him when we heard the disturbance out here.” His dark eyes were bright with amusement. “And I told him to call.”


“Oh. Right.” As if Alec took orders well.


“Come in where it is warm.”


“I’m not cold. I told you that.” And the fact that he wouldn’t acknowledge her condition made it even more suspect.


Still, Eve followed Gadara to the men’s side of the duplex. Edwards was pouring himself a glass of milk in the kitchen. Richens was leaning against the counter and speaking in rapid, heavily accented British English that was unintelligible to her. He acknowledged her with a jerk of his chin, then looked back at Edwards, who was examining her with an assessing glance.


She fought the urge to flip them the bird.


“Everything is as it should be,” Gadara said into the phone. “Yes, there was a disturbance . . . Fine. In fact, she is extraordinary. I am quite impressed . . . Yes, I told her you would. Just a moment.”


The archangel held the phone out to her. Accepting it, Eve moved to the far corner of the living room where a massive spider web occupied much of the space.


“Hi,” she said in a subdued tone that made her feel better but wouldn’t prevent mark-enhanced eavesdropping.


“Hey.” The sound of Alec’s gruff, purring voice filled her with relief. “You’re not answering your phone.”


“I had to turn it off so it didn’t disturb my roommate.”


He growled. “Put it on vibrate and keep it on you.”


“I tried that, but then I left the damn thing under my pillow when I couldn’t sleep.”


“What’s going on, angel? Are you hurt?”


“I’m fine.”


“Raguel cut me off, and you weren’t answering. Scared the shit out of me.”


“It was a stupid misunderstanding.”


“Couldn’t have been that stupid. You impressed Raguel.”


“What can I say?” She shrugged. “He’s easily amused.”


“Does he have you training already? It’s after two in the morning.”


“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”


“You miss me.” There was a smile in his voice.


“That, and it’s too hot to nod off.”


“Hot? In Monterey at night?”


Eve rubbed at the space between her brows. “I think I’m coming down with something. I’m pretty sure I have a fever.”


There was a long pause. “You can’t get sick.”


“You have to believe me, I’m not giving you a choice. Gadara won’t listen to me and—”


“I’m going to take a shower.”


She stiffened at the sound of a woman’s voice in the background on the other end of the phone. It was throaty and seductive, as if the speaker had just woken up . . . or just had a screaming orgasm. “Who is that?”


Alec groaned. “A mess.”


“Sounds like a woman.”


“She’s a Mare.”


Eve’s foot tapped against the hardwood, her earlier feelings rushing to the fore. “She doesn’t sound like a horse to me. I bet she doesn’t look like one either. Where are you?”


He laughed, the low rumble as enticing when she was mad as when she was completely besotted. “She’s a Mare, as in nightmare. And I’m in my room. It’s the middle of the night, where else would I be?”


“You have a naked woman in your room in the middle of the night.”


Edwards gave a low whistle. Eve turned around and flipped him the bird.


“She’s not naked yet,” Alec said calmly.


“Well, I don’t want to hold you up so I’ll let you go.”


There was a pregnant pause, then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”


“Sounds as if the joke’s on me.”


“Give me a fucking break.”


Eve pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ignore me. I’m not feeling well.”


“She’s an Infernal.”


“I’m not rational.”


“She’s not you.”


“Got it.”


“Nothing to worry about. Understand? And anyway, you don’t strike me as the jealous type.”


“I’m not jealous of you, I’m jealous of her. She’s naked with you. Call me back when I’m shacked up in a motel with a naked guy and see how you feel about it.”


“I’m not shacked up, and she’s not naked within eyesight. But . . . point taken.”


A reluctant smile curved her mouth. “Why do you have an Infernal taking a shower in your room?”


“Bad luck?” He exhaled his frustration. “Something is really screwed up around here. She offered information if I’d get her out of the area.”


“Like Hank?”


The Exceptional Projects Department—located in the subterranean floors of Gadara Tower—housed Infernals who worked for the good guys. Some did so by force, others were defectors from Hell. They all used their various talents to further the Mark cause.


“Yes. Like Hank and the others.”


“How will creating nightmares be helpful?”


“Mares see into dreams. Sometimes that helps in learning what Infernals have planned.”


“Subconscious eavesdropping?”


“Exactly. They can also make subliminal suggestions.”


“What about the Alpha?”


“Giselle will have to tag along.” Alec’s tone was blunt and uncompromising. “I’m not interrupting my hunt, it’s keeping me away from you.”


Eve forced herself to ignore his use of the Mare’s first name. She knew it was nothing. Knew it. But her agitated emotions were seeking any outlet. “Can you trust her?”


“You worried about me, angel?” he asked softly.


“You know it.”


“I’ll make you a deal: I keep myself in one piece and you do the same.”


“You’re on.” She yawned against her will.


“Go to bed,” he ordered. “I need to finish talking to Raguel, then I’m crashing, too. I want an early start.”


“Listen,” she looked over her shoulder at the rest of the room’s occupants, then lowered her voice, “a dog tried to talk to me earlier.”


“Oh?” The rise in his interest was palpable. “About what?”


“That’s the thing, I don’t know. She said something was fishy around me, then Izzie shot her.”


“Shot her?”


“Yeah, for no other reason than she felt like it, as far as I can tell.”


“The dog is dead?”


Eve winced. “Yes.”