Bree hung up after getting down his number. She felt a tinge of nervous excitement overshadowing her earlier agitation. She knew she was just running away from her own feelings, but she didn't care. She really did want the distraction. And what would it harm? All her problems would be there for her when she got home. She couldn't run away from the dilemma of Daniel if she tried. She did a quick freshen up in the bathroom, then grabbed her keys and purse and headed out the door.

She arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early. Traffic had been lighter than she expected, and she'd scored an on street parking spot only five blocks away. The coffee shop was on the ground floor of one of the older brick buildings in this historic part of downtown. Most of the brick and stone buildings in the Pioneer Square neighborhood originated in the 1890's, making them old by Seattle standards. The neighborhood was an odd amalgam of high end restaurants, shops catering to tourists, art galleries and bars and music clubs that attracted college age partiers. There was also a very visible homeless population, and it had a reputation as a good place to score drugs, especially at night. She loved the old buildings, with their nineteenth century stone ornamentation, and she liked that not all of the neighborhood was polished and tidy for the tourists. On the other hand, she didn't consider it the safest neighborhood. The streets were pretty quiet on this Sunday afternoon, but she was alert and aware of her surroundings during her short walk to the coffee shop.

Rolly's was long, narrow and dark toward the back. The plaster walls were painted orange, and the work of some local artist was exhibited, along with little tags listing the price of each painting. The work tended toward disembodied doll heads and naked women in odd poses, not a style Bree found appealing.

There was a long wooden counter with a denuded selection of baked goods displayed. Apparently, this late on a Sunday, all the good stuff was picked over. The smell of coffee was pleasant, though, and the black board behind the counter proudly proclaimed that Rolly's roasted it's own.

The barista behind the counter was a blond man in his twenties with a square head, short hair and a pierced eyebrow. He gave her a friendly smile as she ordered a caramel macchiato. She knew it was crazy for her to order espresso this late in the day, especially when she already felt a little like she was on speed. She was edgy, anxious, excited, and she had the sense that she was moving headlong toward indulging whatever impulse might make her feel better.

She was eyeing the left over m.u.f.fins and scones doubtfully when Leander came up beside her. No green suede pants this time, she noted. He was dressed in grey washed jeans, a white t-shirt and a faded coral, green and white striped b.u.t.ton down shirt left unb.u.t.toned. Though it was a casual outfit, the colors were so clearly flattering to his particular shade of red hair and pale skin tone that Bree got the distinct sense it was very carefully chosen. He had a brown coat draped over one arm.

"Hey, you must have found parking pretty quick," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, I got majorly lucky," she answered as she dug in her purse to pay the barista for her coffee. Leander didn't interfere, which Bree took to be one of those little hints that this was maybe a friend date, not a date date.

He ordered an orange mocha, an unexpectedly frou frou drink for a man. They made small talk about the coffee and the neighborhood as the barista made Leander's drink, then repaired to a table by the front window. There were only three other people in the shop, two women, both in black, chatting a couple of tables away, and a young man in back, typing away on a laptop. The shop was a few blocks down from the center of the action, and apparently too far from the main drag to attract a crowd on a Sunday afternoon.

"So you asked me all about my job at the party, but I never really got to hear about what you do," Bree said, opening a more personal conversation once they were seated.

"I work as a freelance editor," Leander replied. "It's not as interesting as it sounds, I'm afraid. I'm not editing the next great American novel or anything. I do a fair amount of non-fiction, mostly online copy. It's not as easy to break into the fiction side, which I'd really rather be doing, but it pays the bills."

"Would you consider yourself a language person then?"

"I'm not sure exactly what you mean," he said, head tilted in thought. "But I've always been a reader, and majored in English in college, in spite of it being insanely impractical."

"No wonder you and Bruce get along," Bree said, smiling. "Poor English majors, struggling to make a living as language people. That's basically what I meant, I guess. Some people are more language people, others are more math and sciences people."

"And what are you?" Leander asked. His blue-green eyes were vivid in the light coming in the window, and he regarded her with such focused attention that Bree started to feel self conscious.

"I've always been more of a sciences person. You know, geeking out on facts and putting my foot in my mouth more often than not."

Leander laughed, and Bree couldn't help but notice again how ridiculously attractive he was. She was starting to get that vibe again that he might be interested in her, but she just couldn't feature it. He was too good looking, and there was always a kind of unconscious calculation that went into dating. Really gorgeous people usually dated other really gorgeous people. Bree knew she was attractive in her own way, but she considered Leander out of her league.

"Well, you haven't put your foot in your mouth around me yet. Now I can hardly wait," he replied. He leaned back, took a sip of his coffee, then said, more seriously, "You said something on the phone about needing a distraction. Is it something you want to talk about?"

Bree considered him for a moment, calculating what she should and shouldn't say. She considered reading him to help her decide, but she wanted to give herself a rest as she knew she was still healing. She decided to opt for a general report and see how he responded.

"I don't know if you heard about that riot on Alki Beach last night, but I was there. It was pretty scary."

"Lord, what were you doing there? Just rotten luck?"

She shook her head. "No, I got called in to help." She glanced toward the two women, and lowered her voice. "I'm an Exorcist, and there was some serious demon possession going on."

Leander leaned over the table toward her, and lowered his voice as well. "Are you a Keeper then?"

"No, not a Keeper. My husband's best friend Javier is a Keeper, though, and he had someone call me in."

Leander blinked in confusion. "So, you're, ah, married?"

Bree colored in embarra.s.sment. She still didn't have the hang of talking about Seth in the past tense. "My husband pa.s.sed away two years ago."

"Wow, that's terrible. I'm sorry," Leander replied softly.

"So anyway," Bree rushed on, "it was pretty hairy last night. Doing exorcisms on the fly in a crowd of rioting teenagers was not a picnic."

"Wait, I think I heard about that on the news this morning. I heard two kids got killed, and quite a few were seriously hurt. And you say there were possessed in the crowd?"

"A lot of possessed," Bree replied. She felt her Reader sense stirring in response to her uncertainty about discussing this with Leander. It tended to show up unasked when she felt uneasy, but she squashed it back down. She'd just have to make like a normal and trust her judgment. He was looking at her with what seemed like interested concern, lacking in prurience. The look rea.s.sured her, and she filled in more details. "Apparently, there have been some outbreaks of these ma.s.s possessions, usually of young people. It's really very worrying."

Leander lowered his voice further. "Are we talking out of control Demon Master here?"

"That, or maybe some Keltoi agenda," she answered equally quietly.

"Is there anything I can do? I'm not an Exorcist or any great shakes as a Caster, but I have kept up on some basic defensive spells. And I'm a decent Warder and have a bit of Demonsense."

Bree was touched, both by his offer and by his humility. It was the first time she'd seen his air of confidence slip. She wondered if she was seeing a glimpse of the real Leander. If she was, she liked what she saw.

"So if you need someone to stand around and say, 'There's one,' while hiding out behind a ward, I'm your man."

"Are those your main talents then? I thought I heard Bruce mention you were a Bird Master as well."

Leander gestured out the window, and she saw a group of about twenty pigeons meandering and scratching about on the sidewalk outside the window. Her eyes widened. "So, a strong Bird Master. They follow you around?"

"Unless I make them stop," he agreed. "It's a good thing I like the silly little things."

"Yeah, that is a good thing. I'm a Cat Master, and I don't like cats much at all."

Leander gave a sudden shout of laughter, making the two women a couple of tables away look up at him. "That's funny, you know that, right?" he got out between snickers.

She smiled ruefully. "Why does everyone always say that?"

"Because it is!" His voice got quiet again, but the laughter didn't entirely leave it. "Of course I like birds. I've never heard of an Animal Master who didn't like the animal they were attuned to. It seems like some sort of cosmic joke if you don't."

"A bad joke," she grumped. "And to make things even more hilarious, the d.a.m.ned things follow me around, but I can't do a thing with them. Daniel got me a kitten for Christmas, and he's a total h.e.l.lion. He scratches my furniture, attacks me when I walk by, and bites me when he doesn't get his way. Nothing I do seems to affect the beast."

"I have heard that cats are harder than usual for the talent to reach," Leander conceded diplomatically. "They're innately independent I guess."

"That's putting it mildly."

He shifted in his chair, and his expression became more serious again. "So, you and Daniel..." he said, leaving the sentence hanging for her to complete. Bree didn't know what to say in response. d.a.m.ned good question. She and Daniel what? Wanted to jump each other's bones? Were partners in criminal activity involving voluntary demon possession? How was she supposed to answer a question she had no good answer to for herself?

"Well, you mentioned he gave you a kitten for Christmas. And I have to say, at the party, I got the pretty clear sense that there was something between you. Frankly, I got the impression you'd just recently broken up."

Bree sighed. "I guess you could say it's complicated," she hazarded. "We're not dating or anything, but we're trying to be friends."

Leander leaned back again, his eyes narrowed a little in speculation. "So how's that going?"

Bree gave a so-so wave of her hand. "Sometimes it goes great, sometimes not so great. He's a complicated person."

"I read that about him," Leander murmured, eyes lowered.

"You read him? At the party?" Bree asked in some surprise.

"I know, I know, bad manners," Leander admitted. "Sometimes my Reader sense shows up on it's own, especially if I'm feeling nervous. And call me a coward, but meeting a bunch of new people I don't know at a party makes me nervous."

"You sure didn't look nervous," Bree replied skeptically.

"It's a gift, my dear, it's a gift," Leander said insouciantly.

Bree leaned in again and lowered her voice. Having conversations about power issues was so awkward in public. She eyed the women nearby again, and caught one of them ogling Leander appreciatively. "So what level Reader are you? If I may ask?"

"Yes, you may ask. I can read tells just a little, and I'm high power on reading energy. And Daniel reads, well, complicated, like I said. He's clearly high power in some kind of major way. But he also seems, well, a little dark powered. Not that I'm saying he is dark powered," he went on, speaking quickly, as if he were a little uncertain talking about it. "Maybe more like, I don't know, depressed? Angry about something? Or maybe traumatized? Bruce said something to me about him being a retired Keeper. I know those folks see a lot of bad things."

Bree was intrigued by Leander's a.s.sessment of Daniel. It was interesting to get the read of someone who didn't already know Daniel, who was coming at it with fresh eyes. "I think it's some of all of the above," she confided. She played with her cup as she spoke, turning it around and around in her hands. "I think he did go through a lot as a Keeper, enough that he needed to retire early. Because he's so high power, I'm pretty sure he was on the front lines for a lot for the worst stuff. Just the little bit of exorcism I've done has done a number on me. And he did it for fifteen years."

"He must have started young."

"At nineteen, Kevin told me. He's known Daniel since high school."

"I've heard Exorcists can get a little demon burned, like Demon Masters do, though not anywhere near to the same degree," Leander mused. "Do you suppose that's part of why he reads like he does?"

"Maybe," Bree said cautiously. She was starting to feel uneasy, like maybe she was saying too much. But how often did she get to talk to anyone about this? She'd told Sophie a few of her concerns, but somehow, she'd not wanted Sophie to lose faith in Daniel, especially since they were all trusting him to keep things relatively safe with the demon research. "Have you personally seen that before?" she asked Leander with interest.

"Can't say I have," he told her. "But I'm not sure what else to make of Daniel. Of course, maybe he was just having a bad night."

"Huh, you could say that. But to be honest, Daniel has always read a little dark to me too."

"Part of his appeal?" Leander questioned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, stop. No, Daniel's appeal is that he's a natural leader, a good teacher, has a good heart, and is smart as h.e.l.l."

"And you're not with him because..."

Bree looked at him helplessly.

"Right," Leander said, making the word one long syllable. "It's complicated. I take it from what you're saying that you're a Reader too?"

"Tells and energy both," she acknowledged.

"High power I bet. You know, I have a theory that Readers that can do tells are more empathic than strict energy Readers." Leander's focus was back on her in that slightly unnerving way again. She didn't think he was reading her, not quite, but he was very interested in what she might say in response.

"I guess that would describe me well enough," she admitted.

"My condolences. I'm not as much of an empath as a lot of Readers, and I've always been grateful for that. The little Reader empathy I do have is pretty d.a.m.ned inconvenient at times. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a lot more of it."

"It's like living with your skin off," Bree said with a direct look. It was nerve wracking, but also, somehow freeing to be talking of this so honestly. "I have to be very careful with it. I've really worked hard not to read all the time, it's just too much. But like you said, sometimes I can't help it if I'm startled or nervous or just emotional in some way."

"Would you try reading me?" Leander asked. He was looking at her so intently, and the request was so unusual, that she was taken aback.

"You want me to read you? What for?"

"Just as an experiment. Indulge me," he replied, grinning, and the grin had some kind of edge to it that got her Reader sense stirring even before she consciously considered his request. This was important to him somehow, she could tell that much already. But she wasn't sure how well she could do at reading him, or even if she should try. It was going to hurt, if nothing else. And how to explain that, that she might not be at her best?

"I overused my Reader sense during the riot," she improvised, "so I'm probably not at peak functioning." Leander looked behind her, distracted for a minute by the two women leaving. That left them a little more privacy, which was the other consideration. "Are you asking for a deep read? If so, I can't try that without more rest. Or, obviously, in such a public place."

"Nah, just a regular old, garden variety read of someone you don't know," he told her.

"Okay," she replied slowly. "I guess I can try that." She remembered that Daniel had asked her to read Leander, that he'd thought something was wrong with him. She'd thought about that on her way over, but she'd dismissed it, partly just in stubborn opposition to anything Daniel had to say. She was irrationally angry with him, as if it were his fault something really was wrong with him.

She pushed all that aside, focusing on the man across from her. He was emptying his coffee in one last swallow, then he put the cup down and faced her with a faint, challenging smile. Bree felt her compet.i.tive instinct emerge. Being invited by another Reader, up front, to read them was throwing down the gauntlet to some degree. A Reader knew what another Reader was looking for, and had at least a hope of fogging things up. A lot depended on who was the more powerful Reader.

She brought up her Reader sense slowly. There was still some discomfort to it, a feeling of stabbing pain behind her eyes, though not severe pain. She persisted, starting with an energy read first. Many Readers couldn't do one without physical touch, but Bree could usually get quite a lot without that.

Almost immediately, she sensed something was off. It was the oddest sensation. She felt like her probe was sliding off somehow, like it couldn't get a purchase on Leander's energy. She tried again, harder, in spite of the pain. It wasn't a ward, not that. That would have had an energy signature of it's own. Nor was there a total absence of energy. As she pushed it, the pain increased, and she had to stop for a break. Leander raised his eyebrows in a questioning look. "Well?" he prompted.

"Give me a minute," she replied. Okay, so he was hard to read somehow on the energy level, at least without physical touch. Maybe she'd have more luck with tells. "Start talking about something. I know, tell me some more about your work, something about one of your favorite or least favorite projects lately."

Leander nodded and launched into a description of editing an article on, of all things, killer bees, and she focused on his tells, looking to get a sense of how much he enjoyed his work, what his true feelings were about it. She could catch individual tells, a quirk of the lips here, a tilt of the head there, but somehow, it wouldn't form up for her, wouldn't coalesce into a pattern. It took her awhile to accept it, that she was literally not able to make any sense whatsoever of his tells. She persisted until Leander stopped his killer bee lecture suddenly and said, with concern, "Are you all right?"

Bree shut down her Reader sense and rubbed hard at her forehead, then dropped her hand on the table between them and regarded him with a mixture of awe and unease. "I can't read you, not at all. Not energy, not even tells. That's never happened to me before."

"I've never yet found anyone who could," Leander told her. There was an odd tone to his voice. She almost thought he might be disappointed. "I think it's some sort of rare talent, but it's not anything I'm trying to do. I've just always been like that."

"That's weird," Bree blurted out.

"Yeah, rub it in, rub it in. I'm just a freak of nature."

"Oh, sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. Or at all. Oh, d.a.m.n! See what I meant about putting my foot in my mouth?"

"You really are so easy to tease," Leander said lightly with a dazzling smile. "I like that in a woman. Keeps things entertaining."

"So glad I can keep you amused," Bree countered sarcastically. She was still reeling a little from the failure of the read, but at the same time, she felt drawn in by what felt very much like flirtation on Leander's part. She got the sense he'd been holding back before, but he wasn't now.

"I suspect you could keep me amused endlessly," Leander countered, grin turning wicked. Bree's heart rate picked up a little. A man like Leander probably flirted on reflex. She'd seen that in him at the party. But the way he was looking at her seemed to hold real appreciation. It occurred to her that Daniel would be p.i.s.sed if she started seeing Leander. She knew that shouldn't please her, but it did.

"It amuses you that I can't read you?" she said with an answering smile. "That's hardly fair, since you can probably read me."

"I'm sure the humility in that equation will do you some good. High power Readers should all get a dose of their own medicine sometimes."

"And you're oh-so-kind to give it to me." Bree answered him.

"At your service, madam," he said with a little bow.

They went on like that for some little while. Bree was enjoying herself. It was nice to be having a little harmless fun. And if something came of it, well, she was a free woman. Leander just might be the kind of guy she could have a no strings attached fling with. Not that she'd ever had such a thing. She'd met and fallen in love with Seth so young that she had almost no dating experience of any kind. And she had to admit, she'd lately been looking forward to seeing what it would be like to explore a bit s.e.xually. She'd finally been coming out of her fog of grief in the last few months. Her attraction to Daniel was proof of that. She was having enough fun that she considered asking Leander if he wanted to go out to dinner with her. A thoroughly reckless part of her wondered if something more might happen afterwards.

But just as she was ready to ask him, Leander looked at his watch and made a surprised noise. "Yikes, I've got a Skype conference to get to, a client in New Zealand, it's tomorrow there." He glanced out the window. "It's starting to get dark out. I really should walk you to your car."

"No, you get to your conference call. It's not really dark yet, and I only have a couple of blocks to go."