Wait ... twenty years? Had it really been that long? Redmond found himself staring at Saint Clement's in surprise, but he wasn't sure if it was because he'd never been inside or because he was so shocked that the nearly two decades had suddenly sort of ... caught up with him. Without realizing it, he climbed the stairs and crossed the small expanse of concrete, until he and Grunt were standing at one of the open doors and staring inside. It was cool and welcoming, filled with shadows and dreamy, golden light, and Redmond could see all the way to the altar at the far end and beyond. Down there was marble and tile and gilded statues below another magnificent rose gla.s.s window, a match to the front one that soared high on a different wall. The rest of the walls were a tapestry of Old World biblical paintings and patterns in muted but still spectacular colors, culminating in a high dome on which six angels were displayed and surrounded by small arched stained-gla.s.s windows. It was, literally, a breathtaking sight.

"Go on in," said a voice from behind him. Redmond looked to his left and saw a man standing there. He was younger than Redmond by a couple of years and in cleric's clothing; below hair the color of ink, his Irish green eyes were untroubled and friendly.

"Oh, no," Redmond said. "Not with the dog. And please don't give me a quote about 'all G.o.d's creatures' or something like that."

The priest laughed pleasantly. "All right, I won't. But I will say that I don't think the dog can destroy the church." He eyed Grunt, then amended, "At least as long as you keep it on a leash."

It was Redmond's turn to laugh. "Thanks, but maybe I'll come by another time."

"No time like the present."

Redmond groaned. "You are are going to quote, aren't you?" going to quote, aren't you?"

The priest grinned. "Sorry. Sometimes I just can't stop myself." He offered his hand. "Father Paul Murphy."

Redmond shook the priest's hand and introduced himself. By now Grunt had finally noticed the newcomer and Redmond was struggling to hold her back; the sudden image he had of white hair all over Father Murphy's black slacks didn't set well. He turned Grunt and headed back toward the street. "Seriously, Father, some other time. I need to get this monster back home and head to work."

"Do you mind if I walk with you?"

Redmond shrugged. "Feel free."

"So what do you do?" the priest asked after a few moments of walking alongside.

"I'm a cop," Redmond said simply. "A detective."

"Ah." Father Murphy nodded. "A n.o.ble profession. And one of the most difficult."

"I hold my own."

"We all have to."

Redmond couldn't help smiling a little. "You're like the master of one-liners, right?"

Father Murphy reached down and scratched Grunt's back. In response, the Great Dane turned her head and gave his hand a thank-you lick. "I just try to keep it simple. Have you always been a policeman?"

"Have you always been a priest?"

Another smile, one that looked a little tenuous. "No. I started out as an orphan. Then I turned into a loner, and a bully, and then I went on to become a thief. It was a long and rather unpleasant road from there to here." He gave Redmond a sidelong glance. "I have to say that I like the 'here' much better than the 'there.'"

Redmond nodded, resisting the cop's urge to ask for more details about the past at which Murphy was hinting. He thought the priest would answer, but he didn't know Murphy well enough-he had no right to be nosy. "I've been a cop in one form or another since I got out of high school," he offered. "I started with the Army. When my time was up, I went to the police force here."

"Didn't like the Army?"

"I liked it just fine. I just didn't like traveling, and the military won't usually let you stay anywhere for more than three years. You put down too many roots and then you don't want to deploy when they tell you."

"Ah. I guess that makes sense."

"I like living in one place."

"Stability."

"Exactly."

They'd reached Arlington, and when Redmond steered Grunt to the left, Father Murphy stopped. "It's been nice talking to you, Detective Redmond."

"Eran, please. Only the perps call me 'Detective' and my coworkers call me Redmond."

"Eran, then." Father Murphy gave Redmond's hand another firm shake. "The next time, come on inside the church. I promise the doors won't close and lock behind you."

Redmond chuckled. "I'll think about it. Nice to meet you too."

Redmond and Grunt turned east and the priest headed back the way they'd come. After a second, Redmond stopped and looked back, watching Father Murphy's retreating back and thinking. Should he have said something about Brynna? He'd had his chance right there, but it seemed so far-fetched- Without warning, the clergyman turned around and fixed his gaze on Redmond. "Is there something else, Eran?" the priest asked quietly. He was only about twenty feet away, so despite his low tone, Redmond heard every word clearly. "Something you need to talk about?"

Redmond stared at him, unaccountably hearing Brynna's voice in his mind.

I'm not human, not at all ... I'm a demon.

Did he dare bring this up to this man he'd just met, take that crazy statement and lay it out in the bright light of day, just to see what happened?

No, he didn't.

"No." Redmond shook his head, hoping he sounded convincing. "No ... but thanks."

Father Murphy gave him a congenial smile. "All right, then. Remember, you know where to find me if you change your mind." He tilted his head in the direction of Saint Clement's. "I live in the rectory. In fact," he added as he closed the distance again and reached into his back pocket, "here's my card. My cell number's on it."

Redmond reached for it. "You have a cell phone?"

Father Murphy smiled. "Yes. It's been a long fight, but priests are even allowed to use twenty-first-century technology."

"Sorry," Redmond said sheepishly, "I didn't mean-"

The priest held up a hand. "Please. You're not the first person to a.s.sume we still eat out of stone bowls and perform self-flagellation."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Father Murphy grinned. "Neither would I."

"Thanks, Father." Redmond hesitated. "Maybe I'll give you a call sometime."

Father Murphy nodded, turning serious again. "Please do. Anytime." He touched his forehead and turned away. Redmond stood there with Grunt, watching until the holy man's figure was lost among the cars and greenery.

REDMOND AND S SATHI SHARED an office that was barely large enough to accommodate the double-sided desk and two chairs. To make up for the lack of s.p.a.ce, they'd pushed the end of the desk below the window and hung shelves on either side of it, starting a couple of feet from the floor and going all the way to the ceiling. Over the years those shelves had become crammed with papers, files, books, office supplies, and anything else they couldn't fit into the desk or below it. The effect was kind of like a mini-mad scientist's office, and the two oversized bulletin boards, one on each side wall behind the desk chairs, only added to the chaotic feeling. an office that was barely large enough to accommodate the double-sided desk and two chairs. To make up for the lack of s.p.a.ce, they'd pushed the end of the desk below the window and hung shelves on either side of it, starting a couple of feet from the floor and going all the way to the ceiling. Over the years those shelves had become crammed with papers, files, books, office supplies, and anything else they couldn't fit into the desk or below it. The effect was kind of like a mini-mad scientist's office, and the two oversized bulletin boards, one on each side wall behind the desk chairs, only added to the chaotic feeling.

But Redmond and Sathi were used to the clutter, used to each other, and each man knew precisely where every piece of his paper resided. The upper half of the inside wall was gla.s.s, and every now and then someone in the chain of command would do a double-take at the mess. They'd come in on some pretense or another and test the two detectives, demanding some obscure form or file that no one had thought about in months. Neither man had ever failed to find it within two minutes. Despite the piles of paper, both Redmond and Sathi kept a pa.s.sable amount of s.p.a.ce on each side of the desk clear for whatever current project was demanding their attention. Today's problem was the same one that had been dominating the entire department for the last month and on which neither of them was making a d.a.m.ned bit of progress.

"Today will be the fifth day without a shooting," Sathi offered.

"It's not even noon," Redmond replied. "The killings have been all over the clock, so we have another eighteen hours to go before we can really say that."

Sathi didn't blink. "I like to think positive."

"Yeah, and I'm positive we're not out of the woods yet." Redmond watched as the darker-skinned man thumbed through the incident reports, always looking for some kind of pattern. "Besides, what kind of att.i.tude is that for a cop? We're supposed to be all doom and gloom."

Sathi's white teeth flashed as he grinned. "It is a statistical fact that people who are optimistic live longer." When Redmond looked doubtful, Sathi added, "I can show you the article. Or you can google it for yourself."

"I believe you," Redmond muttered. "I just don't think cops are figured in there. There's nothing positive about this job except knowing that every time you think you've seen it all, someone's going to prove you wrong."

"See-you are are thinking positive!" thinking positive!"

"Very funny." Redmond closed the folder in his hand, then pulled the rest of the papers in front of him into a pile. "Let's work on something else for a while. I've had about all the dead end I can take right now."

"All right." Sathi snagged a folder with a Post-it stuck to it that said Pending. Pending. He held it up where Redmond could read it. "Let's work on this one." He held it up where Redmond could read it. "Let's work on this one."

Redmond squinted across the desk. Sathi was holding the Kim file, the case in which the Korean girl had been held prisoner in the jewelry store bas.e.m.e.nt. c.r.a.p. He'd spent all morning trying to keep his thoughts away from Brynna and her wild claims. All this case would do was bring them right back to punch him in the nose and then some.

But Sathi was right. There was a box-load of stuff still to be done on it, not the least of which was sort through all the crazy stuff they'd found in the bas.e.m.e.nt and the store's office. Although it had only been a week, the lawyers for the elder Kwan's bank had jumped in to claim the jewelry inventory and the accountable cash; the only thing stopping them from sweeping through the rest of the building and putting it up for sale was the still-open investigation. To Redmond they seemed as much vultures as the old jeweler himself.

I'm not human, not at all ... I'm a demon.

Redmond shook himself mentally and flipped open the folder. Cho, the victim, had made a nearly miraculous recovery-she was already back at school and was adamant about not remembering anything beyond being in the laudromat after having fed money into the washing machine. The crime scene team had taken more than a hundred photos of the bas.e.m.e.nt and there was definitely a bunch of weird s.h.i.t down there.

"There's nothing else we can learn from this stuff that we don't already know," Redmond finally said. "According to the docket, their lawyer's supposed to be in the house to meet with his clients in a little under an hour. I say we take advantage of that and go have a face-to-face with the boy."

Sathi nodded. "All right. The kid might not talk to us, though."

"He's going to have to say something something or he'll get his a.s.s handed to him on a stick. It's on the books that he and the old man are going to be indicted on forcible imprisonment, so it's in his best interest to try for some kind of a deal. The old man isn't talking-he just sits there and says nothing, not even to his lawyer. It's like his mind is totally jacked up. Maybe we can get the kid to roll over on him, find out the truth of what they were doing." or he'll get his a.s.s handed to him on a stick. It's on the books that he and the old man are going to be indicted on forcible imprisonment, so it's in his best interest to try for some kind of a deal. The old man isn't talking-he just sits there and says nothing, not even to his lawyer. It's like his mind is totally jacked up. Maybe we can get the kid to roll over on him, find out the truth of what they were doing."

Sathi gave him a level look. "As I recall, Brynna told you exactly what they were doing."

"Please," Redmond said more sharply than he intended, "let's not get into that load of fantasy all over again."

"You cannot deny there are things that are unexplainable about what happened," Sathi pointed out.

"Everything can be explained."

"Really," Sathi said. He rose and followed Redmond out but lowered his voice. "Such as Brynna being shot twice but never needing a doctor?" When Redmond stayed stubbornly silent, Sathi elbowed him. "You do realize she took those bullets for you, right? That you would otherwise be dead?"

Redmond opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything to say except, finally, "Yeah."

"There must be a reason for that."

"Don't be absurd. It was nothing more than reflex."

Sathi laughed. "That, my friend, I do not believe. I also do not believe that you have remained on neutral ground with her."

Redmond started. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"I believe you are sleeping with her-"

"I am not!"

"-or you soon will be." Sathi regarded him calmly.

"You're crazy," was all Redmond could think of to say, but it was a pitiful response and he felt suddenly transparent, as if all his thoughts and dreams-and boy, even if he couldn't remember them, he knew he'd had some doozies last night-had been splayed out for his partner's critical examination.

Sathi looked like he wanted to say something else, but Redmond's cell phone gave a low rattle, effectively cutting him off. Redmond grabbed at the chance to answer it, grateful for the opportunity to derail a conversation that was veering into territory that was way too personal. "Redmond," he barked.

"Hey, Redmond. It's Bello. I've been working on the computer that was pulled from that jewelry outfit on Clark Street. I got something off it-something big. Are you in the building?"

"Yeah," Redmond said. Bello Onani was one of the computer geeks in the tech department, and he could do things with computers that made Redmond d.a.m.ned glad the guy was on the side of the good guys. Without a pa.s.sword, Onani had spent the last four days fighting to get into the computer pulled from the jewelry store. A call from him had to mean he'd finally gotten past the pa.s.sword stops and firewall, but Onani's tone hinted at a lot more than the usual financial swindles. Redmond did an abrupt turnaround and motioned at Sathi to follow. "What've you got?"

For a long moment there was only silence on the other end. Finally, Onani gave him a three-word answer that made the skin at the back of Redmond's neck tighten.

"A hit list."

Twelve.

Brynna found Mireva on the roof at seven-thirty in the morning. The heat was already blistering, the humidity nearly crippling-an older person would have probably pa.s.sed out before a quarter hour had crawled by. But Mireva was young and strong and healthy, and more important, nephilim; Brynna could tell the girl hardly noticed the temperature. Instead, she was working on her science project, walking along a quadruple row of planters that she and her uncle had built out of sc.r.a.p wood. Small, lush plants rose above the edges of the boxes and shifted gently in the hot breeze, sending a bouquet of herbs, flowers, and other scents along the air to mix with the smell of the roof's heated black tar surface.

"Hi," Brynna said. Being up here, with the open sky spreading in every direction, was giving her nerves a serious knock, but the alternative-grabbing the girl and hauling her back into a closed hallway-wasn't going to put out the impression Brynna was hoping for. On the other hand, having a Hunter show up and try to drag Brynna away wasn't a great answer, either. Oh well, Brynna thought, and gave the cloudless sky a grim look. Six of one and a half dozen of another. She just loved those ironic little sayings humans had.

Mireva glanced in her direction and acknowledged her with a slight tilt of her mouth, then bent back to her work. "Hi."

Brynna moved closer, working into step with the girl so she could walk along the rows with her. "So is this the science project you mentioned?"

Mireva didn't look up. "If you mean yesterday in the hallway when you and that guy ran off Gavino, then yeah."

Brynna could feel the resentment rolling off the girl, so she didn't say anything for a moment. "Sorry about that," she finally said. "The blame is on me. All I can say in our defense is that I've known Gavino for a long time and he's a really big jerk."

"I wasn't looking for a boyfriend," Mireva muttered. "Just some help with this project."

"I guess it's pretty important to you, huh?"

"We can't afford college," Mireva said simply. As she talked, Brynna could see Mireva's shoulders stiffen with tension. "This project is my best chance at a scholarship. A full full scholarship. If I don't get this right, I'll have other things I can apply for, but they're all partial." She was silent for a moment, feeling carefully beneath one of the plants as she checked for moisture. "Mama's been saving forever just so there'll be money to kick in for living expenses, clothes and things like that. I'm not even sure there's enough for that. We don't have the credit for any of the loans." scholarship. If I don't get this right, I'll have other things I can apply for, but they're all partial." She was silent for a moment, feeling carefully beneath one of the plants as she checked for moisture. "Mama's been saving forever just so there'll be money to kick in for living expenses, clothes and things like that. I'm not even sure there's enough for that. We don't have the credit for any of the loans."

Brynna nodded. "It's hard."

"The stuff Gavino was talking about-I could tell he wasn't lying when he said he could help me." Mireva's eyes flashed for a moment. "I wasn't looking for him to do it for for me, you know. Just help me make it better." me, you know. Just help me make it better."

Brynna considered the rows of perfectly growing plants. "Well, I don't know the details about your project, but it looks like it's going just fine to me."

"It's doing all right. It's a lot to take care of." Mireva shot a glance at the brilliantly blue sky. "The heat's been getting to it. The world's climate is changing, and that's figured into the criteria of the project too."