Scorched

but I think it’s past time she left. She seems very fond of that stake in her hand.”

Leave? I’d love to leave. Ashe remained still and silent, too wary to admit she was lost.

The vamp lifted her chin. “Get away from my son. Go. I don’t care where.”

Bat-boy, on the other hand, gave Ashe a cocky smile. “Don’t think for a minute you could catch me, anyway.”

Good Goddess. It was the same everywhere. Mothers protected their young. Teenage boys were idiots. “You go. I’m not turning my back on you.”

“Very well.”The vampire pulled at her son’s hand. “Then you don’t move. Not a hair. Not until we’re out of sight.”

Ashe was confused. This was too easy, too reasonable for monsters.

But the youth nervously scanned the halls. “Be kind, little mother. No one can stay here. Not even her. We’re too near Atreus’s halls.”

The dog let out another soul-splitting howl—not the lonely keen of earlier, but something new. An alarm. They all cringed away from the sound, the little vampire covering her ears.

No dog made a sound like that unless it sensed trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Ashe demanded. Her pulse was kicking up even further, primitive instincts telling her to fight or flee right now.

The vampire lifted her head, sniffing the air. “Atreus is near.”

“Atreus?”

“Sylvius is right; beware of him. He’s unpredictable. Quite mad.” The vampire’s eyes had gone wary, just one step away from outright fear. She had one hand on the youth’s arm, as if her touch alone was a shield. “We need to go. All of us. You, too.”

Reflexively, Ashe tightened her fingers around the stake. The look in the female’s eyes dug into her gut. This is a mother and child. Okay, so they’re not human, but they’re afraid of something worse. What kind of creep would frighten a mom and her kid and dog?

Whoever that was, Ashe didn’t like that person one little bit.

“Where does this guy Atreus live?”

Mac rolled out of bed the next morning wondering whether he’d lost his mind. Somewhere in the course of the evening’s conversation, he’d actually agreed to let Lore rent his spare bedroom. He valued his privacy, but he needed cash more.

Heck, he was one-stop shopping: Get your superhero and landlord in one giant package. He’d be in the Castle much of the time, anyway, given his growing to-do list. As long as the Castle was still there.

It turned out the hellhounds knew the place was falling apart, whole chunks at a time simply disappearing. There were warning signs, so for the most part the residents simply moved to another location. Any that didn’t disappeared along with the stones.

Mac filed away one important footnote: The guardsmen’s magical marching orders said that they could only leave the prison for short periods of time. Naturally, they had the most to lose if the place went poof altogether. Lore speculated they’d probably die.

It was a testament to Reynard’s discipline that they weren’t all rioting in panic.

It made Mac grateful to be waking up in a soft, safe bed. It would have been perfect if only Connie were there, too. I wonder if she would want to leave the Castle? It seemed like the obvious choice to him, but he hadn’t lived there for centuries. She might be unaccountably attached to it. Then again, if the Castle kept crumbling, she had no choice.

He stretched, an enormous bone-popping roll of the shoulders.

Coffee. Must have coffee.

He eyed the bedside clock. Ten. Crap. He’d overslept. Opening the bedroom blinds, he squinted out at the sun. It was another beautiful autumn day. Good to be alive.

The demon was present, flowing through every fiber and bone, but it felt natural. Rather than two adversaries in the same body, it felt simply like the darker side of himself: dangerous, wild, and full of heat.

How dangerous? Demons destroy. It’s their nature.

He sensed his own potential for savagery with every breath, every movement of his new muscles. It was tempting—a corked bottle of the finest vintage, just waiting to be poured out and savored. The demon thirsted for it like a drunk in the gutter.

But I’m staying stone-cold sober.

Bold words, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He had begun by thinking that the clues to regaining his humanity lay in the Castle. That was why he had gone back in the first place, after his conversation with Holly at the U. Ironically, every time he went inside the Castle, he came out a little—or a lot—less human. This last time was no exception. Now his demon was making itself comfortable in its upgraded home.

But he hadn’t exactly lost. He could not have rescued Sylvius without his demonic powers. If he rejected his demon side, he would be turning his back on the Castle residents who needed a protector, such as the hellhounds and their stranded family members. And what about the missing Avatar? What about Connie?

If demons destroyed, how come he was being so darned helpful? Caveman and all, Mac was confused on levels he never knew existed.

He switched on the coffeepot and went to take a shower. It was only after he dressed that he remembered the answering machine. Holly had left all the messages. He phoned her back.

“Oh, Mac, thank the Goddess you called. Were you inside in the Castle?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see Ashe?”

“No.”

“Damn it!”

Mac remembered Ashe’s reaction to the door. With everything else that was going on, he’d forgotten about that. “How’d she break in?”

“She didn’t. Alessandro threw her in there.”

“Heh.”

“Mac, it’s not funny.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course not. Any particular reason he, uh, sent her on vacation?”

While Holly talked, Mac wandered out onto the balcony. Traffic was hopping below. A corner of his mind wandered back to Connie, wondering what she’d make of it. She’d probably never seen cars.

I’m going to fix that. His demon flexed, heating his flesh, firing his imagination. Oh, yeah.

“After we couldn’t reach you, Alessandro went into the Castle himself,” Holly was saying. “He had to come out this morning. He ran out of ammunition. He couldn’t find her.”

“Don’t worry,” Mac replied. “I’ll look for your sister. I probably know the lay of the land a bit better. I might have more luck.” So Caravelli didn’t kill Ashe, even though she tried to stake him. Isn’t he getting all mellow in his domestic bliss? “When I find her, I’ll tell her to play nice. I don’t want her running around with pointy objects inside the Castle, either. Someone might lose an eye. If she says please, I’ll even let her out.”

Holly sighed. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Nah, I owe you several. And I’m about to owe you another. I know this sounds a bit, uh, trivial given what you’ve said about your sister, but where do women buy nice, y’know, date clothes?”

“Um. That depends on what they like. Mac, what are you up to?”

“A gift.” With Lore moving in, he suddenly had a modest amount of free money. Enough for one night of fun, anyway.

“Uh-huh. What kind of gift for what kind of person?”

“The lady in question has retro tastes.”

And a taste for blood. Would that be a problem? Nah. After all, she would be with him. If things got bad, he could always whisk her off to one of the freaky bars where vampires fed on the willing and stupid. Those joints