Debbie barely refrained from hitting the man. "My husband died of lung cancer several years ago. It's just Henry and me. I don't need help making the right decision. I've already made it. We're NOT turning off his life support!"

"I understand, Mrs. Harris. You want to do what's right for your son."

"d.a.m.n right I do!"

"Then you should seriously consider what I said."

To give him credit, Gardner didn't look away from her when he said it, Debbie thought. At least he had the b.a.l.l.s to face her even if he was talking nonsense.

The doctor rose from his seat. "I've got some other patients to look after, so I need to get going. I'll send up a nurse and perhaps the chaplain to sit with you a bit, all right?"

But Debbie wasn't listening. She was staring into her son's room, staring at her son lying there in that hospital bed, and thinking there was no way in G.o.d's creation that she could ever pull the plug on him...

Two hours later.

Debbie was sitting in a chair in the corner of the hospital room, half-asleep, when a shadow pa.s.sed across the nearby window.

It took her dozing mind a moment to register that she'd seen something and by the time she pushed herself upright to take a closer look, it was gone. All she was left with was the lingering image of a large, manlike shape with wings.

Wings? Yeah, right.

She shook her head as if to clear it of such a ridiculous notion.

You're losing it, girl.

She got up and walked over to the edge of the window, where she leaned against the wall next to it and stood peering out into the night. With the lights off in the room behind her, it was easy to see the hospital parking lot spread out below. Of course, the big arc lights set up around the lot's perimeter helped in that regard as well.

Debbie stared at those lights for a moment, thinking.

A bird must have pa.s.sed in front of those lights, she thought. The distance probably made the shadow look bigger.

She searched the sky outside, but couldn't see anything past the arc lights.

If it had been a bird, it was probably long gone by now.

She turned away, shaking her head at her own foolishness, and headed back to her seat.

Behind her, the window exploded inward with a thundering crash.

Debbie screamed and fell to the floor in shocked surprise, as gla.s.s was flung in every direction from the impact. The sudden pain she felt in several places told her that she hadn't escaped unscathed, but a quick check told her that none of her injuries were too serious. The fact that she was off to the side of the window had no doubt shielded her from most of the debris.

Henry!

The realization that her son's bed was directly in front of the window brought her scrambling to her feet, but when she turned in that direction she received her second shock that night.

A figure stood over Henry's bed, a figure with large leathery wings that swept out to either side and rose at their tips almost to the ceiling.

Debbie screamed at the sight she couldn't help it and the thing standing over Henry whirled around to face her. In the light from the shattered window Debbie could see that it was a woman in her mid-thirties, with a narrow face framed by chestnut-colored hair dressed in jeans and a tattered t-shirt. She would have been beautiful, possibly exceptionally so, if it wasn't for the eyes that stared out of that face, eyes as black as pitch with no sclera or pupil. Just the sight of them made Debbie's blood run cold and she found herself overwhelmed with fear, struggling even to breathe in the face of it. Her body went rigid, unable to move even the slightest muscle, and she could feel panic building up inside her with nowhere to go as the thing stared her down.

The angel, demon, whatever-it-was must have decided she wasn't any kind of threat for it finally dismissed her, turning back toward Henry. Debbie was relieved to find that she could breathe again when she was no longer faced with that horrifying visage.

That relief was short-lived, however, for in the next moment alarms began blaring from the monitors surrounding Henry's bed as the intruder ripped the various electrical leads from Henry's body then yanked the breathing tube out of his throat.

"Hey!" Debbie shouted, all thoughts of her own safety forgotten now that she was faced with threat to her son's welfare. "You can't do that!"

She hurried forward and grabbed the other woman's arm, intending to pull her away from the bed and prevent her from doing any further harm.

Doing so proved to be a mistake.

Debbie had a second to wonder about the icy coldness and steel-like strength of the woman's flesh and then she was found herself sailing across the room as the intruder flung her away like an errant insect. She slammed into the far wall with incredible force. The impact shattered several of her ribs, sending their jagged edges lancing through her lungs like razor-sharp pieces of shrapnel. By the time she hit the floor she was bleeding to death internally, but was unable to feel any of her injuries thanks to her severed spine.

Debbie watched as the intruder scooped her son's body up in her arms and turned toward the window.

"No. Please no," she begged. "He's all I have."

The other woman didn't even bother to look in her direction. She took a few steps forward and then, spreading those leathery wings, launched herself out the window with Henry clutched securely in her arms.

"Nooooooooo!"

CHAPTER FIVE.

"Another cup of coffee, love?"

Riley looked up to find the waitress hovering over him with a pot of coffee in hand. He smiled, nodded, and held up his mug for her to refill.

"Looks like it's going to be a beautiful night," she said while pouring and Riley had to agree. Stamford's Seaside Diner had been built on the ocean's edge with the back deck, where he was now seated, jutting out over the waters of Long Island Sound. It gave the two of them a marvelous view of the sunset spreading across the water. The sky was streaked with red and orange, the air crisp and clear, and it was just what Riley needed after yesterday's events. He'd take the tang of sea water over the stench of blood any day of the week.

The slight chill in the air kept the diner's other patrons inside and so he had the outer deck to himself. The television mounted in the corner by the door into the restaurant proper was droning on about a comatose Marine who'd been abducted from a hospital in nearby Fairfield, but Riley didn't pay it much mind; he had enough problems of his own to deal with.

He returned to the commandery around seven that morning and had crashed in one of the ready rooms for a few hours of sleep. Duty called in the early afternoon, but the lead they had turned out to be a dud. Wanting to avoid answering any questions that might arise from Echo's presence at the hotel the night before, Riley decided to avoid the commandery for the rest of his shift, figuring that "out of sight, out of mind" was best where the Preceptor was concerned. He had his mobile with him in case there was an alert and he could be onsite in less than fifteen minutes, if necessary. As senior commander, he had a bit more leeway in his ability to be away from headquarters than the men in the ranks and he figured now was a good time to exercise that option.

The waitress brought his food and Riley dug into his porterhouse steak with gusto. The day's efforts in tracking the Adversary had come to naught but he'd worked up an appet.i.te just the same.

He'd barely taken three bites, however, when a tall, lean, dark-haired man with an eye-patch covering his damaged right eye sat down across from him.

"G.o.d in heaven, Cade!" Riley exclaimed. "Are you nuts? You can't be here!"

His friend glanced around conspiratorially and then leaned toward the table. "Why?" he asked sotto voce, "Did they suddenly stop serving white people here?"

Riley, who was far from white, didn't even smile. "I'm serious, Cade. There's a 'shoot on sight' order out for you! If one of the other knights sees you sitting here..."

Unconcerned, Cade picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of steak and took it off of Riley's plate. Then, leaning back, he popped it into his mouth. "Given the size of the mob surrounding us," he said, "I'll take my chances." He chewed contentedly and made no move to get up.

"Stop s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around and listen to me. Johannson wants your head on a platter and if you're not careful he's going to get it. He's not playing a game; that 'shoot on sight' order is serious business!"

Cade waved Riley's concerns away. "Johannson's an idiot and you know it. n.o.body from Echo is going to obey that order."

Riley shook his head. "It's not Echo I'm worried about. We've been relieved; Gamma is in charge of the hunt for you and the Adversary now. And you know what an a.s.shole that guy Harper is."

"I can deal with Harper."

"Cade, I know you don't..."

The former Echo Team commander slammed his hand down on the table. "I said I can deal with Harper. Now leave it."

Riley had been Cade's friend long enough to know when to push and when not to. Cade had clearly made up his mind. Arguing with him now would be like talking to a rock. Riley decided to let it go.

"Suit yourself. Don't blame me when you get drilled through the head by some over-eager initiate, though. And stay away from my steak or I'll stab you with my fork."

A fleeting grin washed across Cade's face, there and gone again. Riley was surprised to see even that much. His friend hadn't been in the best of spirits since they'd returned from their journey into the Beyond and the subsequent events in Brooklyn had sent him into a tailspin.

Speaking of which...

"Want to talk about it?" Riley asked.

Cade signaled the waitress for a cup of coffee, waited for it to arrive, and then glanced across the table at his companion.

"Talk about what?"

"Last night. In Manhattan."

If Riley hadn't known him so well he never would have caught the almost imperceptible hesitation as Cade reached for the sugar. But it was there more fleeting than Cade's smile but there, nonetheless.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cade told him.

Riley watched him dump four sugars into his coffee How the h.e.l.l does he drink it so sweet? and then trapped Cade's gaze with his own.

"Don't give me that bulls.h.i.t. You were on candid camera the whole time, or did you forget about hotel security?"

Cade sat back and sipped from his coffee, watching him. Finally, he shrugged.

"I didn't forget."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Riley said. "So what happened?"

"Nothing happened. I questioned a suspect."

Riley stared at him. "Is that what you call it?" he said. "Questioned? Because to me it looked like you put her it was a her, right? through a wood chipper."

Cade's jaw tightened and he glanced away. "Things got a little heated at the end."

A chill ran up Riley's back at Cade's words. His friend had always been ruthless when it came to pursuing the demonic, but tempering that ruthlessness had been a firm sense of right and wrong. Violence had been a tool, yes, but there was always a purpose behind it and Cade had never allowed emotion to govern his use of it. Now it seemed that steadfast control might be slipping a bit.

More than a bit, Riley thought, remembering the state of the hotel room from the night before. In the wake of what had happened to his wife, Cade's ruthlessness was tending toward cruelty. That worried Riley. Granted, it had only been a demon, but still...

Cade cut into his stream of thought.

"What news of the Adversary?"

The question was asked casually enough, but Riley could hear the raw need in his friend's voice. This was tearing Cade up from the inside, just as the Necromancer had hoped and planned. It made Riley furious; he wished that they could kill the sonofab.i.t.c.h all over again.

"Nothing. Echo, Charlie, and Delta teams have been a.s.signed to the search full-time for the last two weeks and the Preceptor just added Gamma to the mix, but so far we haven't found a d.a.m.n thing. It's like the b.a.s.t.a.r.d just up and vanished."

Cade's brow narrowed. "Come on, somebody has to know something."

"If they do, they aren't talking to us. We've rousted every friendly I could think of, from the shifter community off of Route 1 to the coven of hedge witches living in that freaky mansion in Westport. Got nowhere."

"Maybe you're asking the wrong people," Cade said.

Riley took that as an oblique reference to Cade's interrogation the night before. "Trust me, you aren't the only one questioning the Adversary's potential allies. We've done more raids in the last two weeks than I can ever remember doing and we've still got nothing. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's fallen off the face of the earth and I suspect we won't find him until he wants to be found."

Cade didn't have to say that it would be too late if they waited for that to happen. They had to hit the Adversary now, before he could bring his plans to fruition or there likely wouldn't be any stopping him.

Cade opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the ringing of Riley's cell phone. The peculiar ringtone told Riley that it wasn't a casual call; dispatch only used the tone for a unit-wide alert.

Riley s.n.a.t.c.hed his phone from his pocket and answered the call.

"Riley."

"Operations, Knight Captain. We've got a possible SSE sighting and Echo is being tasked with responding."

SSE was the Order's code for Suspected Supernatural Ent.i.ty, one of the more common alerts teams like Echo had to deal with on a regular basis. The dispatch sergeant rattled off an address, which Riley committed to memory.

"Anything else you can tell me?" Riley said into the phone.

"The initial report mentioned seeing a red-haired woman with large, bat-like wings."

Riley froze. He knew that there were a lot of creatures that fit that description, from harpies to fallen angels, but it was the specific mention of the hair color that caught his attention.

Gabrielle Williams had that color hair. And the last time she'd been seen, she had just sprouted giant, bat-like wings from the center of her back.

He could feel Cade watching him, no doubt wondering what the call was about, but Riley didn't dare look in his direction for fear of giving the situation away. With the shoot-to-kill order in effect, Cade would be in danger if he tried to make an appearance and that's exactly what he would do if he knew what Riley was thinking.

"Can't you get Beta or Delta to deal with it?" he asked, putting a bit of annoyance into his tone.

The dispatcher was caught off-guard by the question and there was a moment of silence while he no doubt tried to come up with a polite way of telling Riley that he was out of his mind; not an easy thing to do when the man you were addressing outranked you.

Then again, Riley thought, non-coms had been doing that very thing with officers ever since war was first invented. It probably wasn't the first time the sergeant had to answer a stupid question.

Riley didn't care if it was stupid, as it was all for show anyway. He was simply trying to throw Cade off the scent.