He made a move for the safe again, but he didn't get very far, mostly because I grabbed his wrist. He shivered at my cold touch.

I said, "This isn't right."

"A deal's a deal, Ms. Moon. Besides, I have no other way of repaying you."

I thought about that, then looked around. "Not true. You have enough junk to stock a dozen houses. There's got to be something in here that I want."

"What are you saying, Ms. Moon?"

"I'm saying, let me pick something out of your junk, and the safe is yours. Keep it in your family. Pa.s.s it along to your son."

He processed that information, and I saw the relief ripple through him and his shining aura. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I've ever been."

"But aren't you a little bit curious what's in the safe?"

"More than you know," and as I said those words, I briefly closed my eyes, and expanded my consciousness throughout the room, and as I did so, two things made me gasp.

The first was the contents of the safe, which I saw clearly. The second was what I saw resting inside a wooden box deep under a pile of newspapers.

Charlie was watching me curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Er, yes," I said, then patted him on the shoulder. "I would suggest you find a much better place for your safe."

"I will."

"A very safe place."

"You think the contents are valuable?"

I thought of the two old spirits, Charlie's father and grandfather. I thought of Charlie's own son and the unique bond that kept the generations connected. The safe. I also saw in my mind's eye the tightly rolled vellum doc.u.ment that might just be the rarest of all American doc.u.ments, a doc.u.ment signed by our founding fathers, centuries ago. A doc.u.ment thought to be lost...until now.

Then again, I could be wrong.

Next, I moved through the piles of junk and headed to the far corner of the room. There, I began moving aside old newspapers and magazines, until I finally uncovered an ornately carved box.

I picked it up carefully, my hands trembling.

Slowly, I opened the lid...

Unbelievable.

Inside was another golden medallion. This time, the three roses were cut from brilliant amethysts.

Charlie was looking over my shoulder. "Oh, that. I got it at an estate sale a while back. In Fullerton. Get this, some old guy was murdered by some nut with a crossbow. Anyway, it's gold, I think. Probably worth a lot. I've been keeping it for a rainy day." He paused. "Truth be known, it kind of gives me the creeps. You can have it if you want."

I closed the lid and held out my hand. "Merry Christmas."

But Charlie had other designs on me. He wrapped me in a huge, smothering hug. "Merry Christmas, Ms. Moon!"

Chapter Fifteen.

With the box sitting safely on the seat next to me, I had just pulled out of Charlie's mobile home park when my cell rang. It was Fang.

"Merry Christmas," I said.

"That sounds odd coming from a vampire," said Fang.

"Why, because I'm a creature of the night?"

"Something like that."

"I'll remind you that Santa does his best work at night."

"Santa isn't real."

"I thought the same about vampires," I said. "And someone recently told me that if people believe in something hard enough and long enough, it becomes true."

Fang laughed. "Enough about Santa Claus. I've got news. Your watcher friend is likely a fallen angel."

"He's no demon, Fang."

"Have you ever met a demon, Moon Dance?"

"I don't know," I said, recalling meeting Kingsley in my hotel room when he had fully transformed into a werewolf. The thing living inside him was as close to a demon as I've ever met. "I just know he's not evil."

"At least not yet."

"What, exactly, is a fallen angel?"

"A spiritual being that no longer commits itself to helping others evolve. In fact, quite the opposite."

"A being who helps others devolve?"

"Close. A being who spreads fear. Living in fear, any kind of fear, separates the individual from the Creator."

My head began to throb. Headaches, for me, rarely lasted more than a few minutes. I chewed my lip and drove and didn't like any of this. I said, "And so, what, one day he decides to turn bad?"

"It probably wasn't just one day, Moon Dance. It had probably been a long time coming."

"He said he's no longer bound to me..."

"If he was your guardian angel, that makes sense. Why should one immortal protect another?"

"Now that he's not bound to me..."

"Right," said Fang, picking up on my thoughts. "Now that he's not bound to you, he's free to approach me. A sort of metaphysical loophole." Fang paused. "I had a thought, Moon Dance, and a not very pleasant one."

"Tell me."

"What if he allowed you to be attacked?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if he not only allowed you to be attacked, but he had planned the whole night?"

"But why?" But even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.

Fang voiced it for me. "To turn you, Moon Dance. To turn you into that which he could finally approach. Or that which he could finally love."

I shuddered as I drove on into the night, wending my way now through the streets of Yorba Linda. "But he said my destiny was to become immortal. To become a vampire."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he wasn't telling you the truth."

"But isn't he, you know, obligated to protect me?"

"I don't know, Moon Dance. We're talking about the spirit world, something I'm not privy to. But I am familiar with the concept of spirit guides and guardian angels. From my understanding, yes, such beings are generally there to guide and protect and nurture. Unless..."

"Unless what?" I asked.

"Unless they decide not to."

"A fallen angel," I said.

"Exactly."

Chapter Sixteen.

Christmas Day, late.

They were all here. Mary Lou, her husband and three kids. Her three kids were about Tammy's and Anthony's ages, and they mostly all got along. Except when playing video games. Then, all bets were off.

Kingsley was here, too, and he looked absolutely sumptuous in his thick sweater and scarf, which hung loosely over a chest that should be illegal in most states. Kingsley wasn't a slender man. He was thick and hulking and as yummy as they get.

Detective Sherbet and his lovely Hungarian wife swung by to say h.e.l.lo. He also pulled me aside and caught me up on another killing. Turns out the city of Fullerton had a bona fide serial killer. This would be the fifth body in as many months. He wanted me to come by the department tomorrow and compare notes, since I was an official consultant on the case. Sherbet was one of the few people who knew my super-secret ident.i.ty. He and his wife stayed just long enough to drink some hot cider and eat some Christmas brownies, before moving on to another party.

Danny even stopped by to drop off the kids' presents. As he stood at the front door, peering over me into a home we had once shared together, no doubt taking in the dollar store decorations, the aromas, the laughter and even the corny Christmas music, he looked positively miserable and envious. I had it on good word that his relationship with his secretary was over. I also had it on good word that she was suing him for s.e.xual hara.s.sment. Nice. But don't feel too bad for the guy. Apparently, he was now dating one of his strippers. Yes, my ex-husband, besides being an ambulance chaser, was also part-owner of a strip club in Colton.

Right. I couldn't be more proud.

As we stood awkwardly at the door, I sensed Kingsley watching us from within the living room, his hulking form backlit by the Christmas tree. Danny, it seemed, was waiting for an invitation to come in. This coming from a guy who was actively trying to ruin me. I thanked him for the presents, wished him a merry Christmas and, against my better judgment, gave him a half-hearted offer to come in, which he pounced on. He pushed past me and immediately went over to kitchen table where he began piling snacks on a paper plate.

Watching him, I reminded myself that it was Christmas, a day when even p.o.r.n kings and slimeb.a.l.l.s were given a one-day pardon.

When it came time for dinner, I thought of Fang alone in his little apartment. I had invited him, too, but was secretly relieved when he declined. He and Kingsley in the same room would have made everyone uncomfortable. Yes, Kingsley knew all about Fang. I believe in honesty and openness in a relationship. To a degree. Kingsley didn't need to know about Fang's criminal past.

I kept myself busy serving dinner, so busy that everyone forgot that I hadn't actually eaten. I would eat later tonight, with Kingsley. A rather nontraditional holiday meal, you could say.

With dinner over and dessert being served, I thought it best to step outside and get some fresh air. I excused myself, patting Kingsley's meaty thigh. He was deep in a conversation with, of all people, my ex-husband. Two attorneys talking shop.

Blech.

My house is small, but I have a big yard. I followed a curving, cement path that led from my front door to my garage, a path I had sprinted across many times during the heat of the day, each time gasping for breath and sometimes literally thinking I couldn't take another step. But I did it each and every day to pick up my kids from school.

A small price to pay.

The sun had long ago set. I felt strong and clear-headed. Cars were parked seemingly randomly outside my house. I lived in a narrow cul-de-sac, and parking here was always a challenge. Especially for Kingsley, who was a surprisingly bad parker. Even now, his black Escalade barely touching the curb, with most of the rear end blocking my driveway.

Pathetic. I expected more from an immortal with decades of driving experience.

I slipped my hands into my coat pocket and looked up into the evening sky. This would have been a good night for flying. Clear, cool skies, with Christmas tree lights sparkling far below. In fact, maybe I would try to get up tonight. Maybe fly out to see Kingsley later.

Maybe.

As I stepped out from behind the comically-parked Cadillac, I saw him standing there in the middle of the street, watching me.

Ishmael.

Chapter Seventeen.

Once again, I gasped.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Samantha."

"You have a way of doing that."

"Sometimes, I forget how easily humans startle. Humans...and vampires."

"I'm not human?"