“None of that,” I warned him as my heart felt a little tug. “I can’t take you with me. I’m not supposed to bring home any more strays.”

He got up and walked unsteadily over to rub his thin body against my calves. Even through my jeans I could feel the outline of his ribs.

“No fair.” I sighed and bent down to scoop him up. He began to purr as soon as I cradled him in my arms. “Okay you can come home with me for now but I can’t guarantee anything. My uncle’s not exactly a cat person and he still hasn’t forgiven me for the last houseguest I brought home.”

*     *     *

The steel door swung open noiselessly on well-oiled hinges and I slipped inside, easing it shut behind me. Silence greeted me. I started to smile but it turned into a wince when the split in my lip stung. Eyes watering, I crossed the storeroom to the far wall and set the cat on the floor. I climbed one of the sturdy shelving units to the ceiling where I stuck my hand under one of the tiles and pulled out a small black metal box. Inside the box were a few hundred dollars and a tiny vial of troll bile half the size of the one I gave Malloy. The bile was my own personal stash that Remy insisted I keep on hand for emergencies. I usually heal very fast and hardly ever get sick – a benefit of having healing power – but it wouldn’t do for Nate to see me with a fat lip.

I uncorked the bottle, tipped it to wet my finger and dabbed the pungent liquid to my swollen lip and bruised knuckles. There was an instant burning sensation then blessed numbness as the sting faded away. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my lip was already mending and in no time it would be healed completely. The bile doesn’t heal broken bones but it makes cuts and bruises disappear in minutes. I dabbed a bit on my knuckles and watched the redness fade from them, trying not to think of Scott who was probably having his nose reset right now. I corked the vial and put the box back in the ceiling, thinking that if anyone should have the bile right now it was him.

“Come on, cat.” I picked him up again and headed for the stairs.

Nate and I had a whole building to ourselves, which was actually pretty cool. Years ago the first floor used to house a bookstore, but it went out of business when the large chain stores came to town. After that, Nate decided that being a landlord was too much hassle. He didn’t really need the rent so he decided not to lease the space again. We lived in the two storey apartment upstairs and the bottom floor was mostly used for storage now and Nate’s home gym.

I dragged my tired body up the stairs and slipped quietly into the apartment. Sounds from the den told me Nate was at work on his computer and I crept past the open door, hoping he was too involved in his work to notice my entrance.

“You missed dinner again.”

I back-tracked and stood in the doorway wearing an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

Nate looked at me over the top of his monitor and I met his green eyes that were so like my own. With the same chestnut hair and golden skin we resembled each other so much that people often mistook us for father and daughter. Nate’s hair was already streaked with grey making him look a little older than his thirty-nine years, but I thought the grey suited him. Or maybe I told myself that to feel better about being guilty of putting some of that grey there.

His hair was mussed and the shadows under his eyes told me he wasn’t getting enough sleep again. He had been working night and day on his latest book, barely coming out to eat and sleep; he always gets like this when he is near the end of the first draft. Nate writes military suspense novels and he was on the fourth book in his series. His work was very good. He didn’t know it but I read all his books.

“What on earth have you been up to? You look like you’ve been in a fight.” There was no accusation in his voice, just disappointment. I opened my mouth in denial but he said, “You have blood on your coat.”

“Oh.” I frowned at the spots of dried blood on the front of my tan coat. “This is my favorite one too. I’d better put it in cold water.”

“Sara,” he said in warning tone. I stopped and he sighed heavily. “What happened?”

I made a face. “You say that like I’m out there brawling every other day.”

“So you were in a fight.”

Busted. “I had a perfectly good reason.” I held up the cat so he could see it over his monitor.

Nate stared at the scrawny bundle of fur in my arms. “Is that thing alive?”

“Of course it’s alive!” I stroked the cat’s head and he purred loudly. “Do you think I’d be walking around with a dead cat?”

“Do you want me to answer that?”

I made a face. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m into voodoo now and I thought I’d start with zombie cats.” I wondered what he’d think if he knew that there were people out there who really could reanimate corpses.

He stared at me like he was trying to decide if that was a joke. I used the opportunity to try to slip away.

“Not so fast. You still didn’t tell me what happened. Sit.”

I took the chair in front of the desk and laid the cat on my lap as Nate maneuvered his motorized chair around the desk. He parked it two feet from me and said, “Spill it.”

I told him about seeing Scott and Ryan chasing the cat and how I followed them to the beach. With as little detail as possible, I related the altercation between me and Scott, making the fight sound more like a shoving match than a fight. I still felt so ashamed and afraid of what I’d done that I really did not want to relive it.