My feet come to a stop by the bed. I don’t want to lie down. I don’t want to sleep again and revisit those nightmares. I can barely close my eyes without seeing that pit or Kyle’s horrible grin after he kidnapped Ruby or that troll with his glistening teeth.

So many monsters. How did my life become filled with so many monsters?

The door shuts. I don’t turn back. Air stirs when Amar walks up behind me.

“It’s not your fault,” he says gently. I shift my shoulders against the words. His hands come to rest on me, stilling the motion. “It’s not.”

I don’t respond. He turns me around to face him. I can feel him studying me, though I can’t meet his eyes.

He sighs. His grip moves, dropping from my shoulders to take my hands. He draws me with him toward the bed.

I grimace. “Amar, I—”

“You need rest.”

My discomfort deepens. Rest. Right.

“What?” he asks.

I shake my head.

Amar sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, pulling me down beside him. “What?” he repeats.

“It’s nothing. Stupid.”

He pauses. “You say that a lot, you know.”

I shift my shoulders again. He obviously doesn’t understand the fine art of burying uncomfortable things.

The complete bullshit of that thought overwhelms me. But it doesn’t mean I want to tell Amar I’ve been dreaming about him. Even if the dreams were horrible, it’s still sort of embarrassing.

“Nightmares,” I say.

“Ruby?”

“No, just… other stuff.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

I look over at him in surprise.

“For a little bit,” he amends carefully. “To help you get to sleep.”

I falter, taken back by how much I want to blurt out yes and how unexpected it is for him to offer anything like that where others might learn of it. My eyes skip toward the closed door. I don’t suppose Bianca will find out, though. And it’s not like that matters anyway. Well, sort of. Except for the part where God knows how she’ll react if she discovers Amar has the slightest hint of feelings for me.

But then, the door’s closed. And it’ll only be for a short while. Maybe that’s why he’s suggesting it.

I nod. “Okay.”

He moves to the opposite side of the bed and then slides beneath the blankets. A weird mix of exhilaration and nervousness bubbles through me as I go to join him. The silken gray sheets slip over my skin, and when I near his warmth, every little hair on my body seems to stand on end, like they’re some sort of radar for my proximity to him.

But I can’t stop the nervousness. This bizarre shyness just rushing through me—like despite sleeping together yesterday, I still feel oddly self-conscious around him.

Though, come to think of it, maybe what happened yesterday is why.

I look at him, only to find him watching me with the strangest expression on his face. It’s almost a smile. Almost.

But I’d swear he’s nervous too. The realization makes my heart race.

He shifts around, propping himself on an elbow next to me. Gently, he reaches over. His fingers brush across my jawline.

Instinctively, my eyes drift closed and my face turns toward the soothing sensation. I can’t get enough of it, him touching me, even just like this. It’s as if my body comes alive whenever I’m near him. Like all the horror and pain in the rest of my life fades to the background.

His hand cups my cheek. I feel him hesitate for a heartbeat, and then he draws closer. His lips brush mine.

Adrenaline overtakes my nervousness. My hand finds his side, gripping his warm skin, and my lips part. After only the briefest pause, he takes me up on the invitation. His mouth devours my own while he shifts around again, moving me back onto the sheets, moving on top of me.

It’s a relief, his body on mine. It’s only been a day since he was this close, but I’ve still missed him.

I wrap my leg around one of his, drawing him tighter against me. A pleased noise escapes him, so soft it’s barely audible. I grin against his lips.

His hand slips under my nightshirt and up my side. My breasts tingle, craving his touch, and the reward comes a moment later when his fingers embrace one of them. I turn my head to the side as Amar’s lips leave mine and travel down my neck, kissing me, nipping at me, waking up every inch of me. My eyes close, my entire being relishing this sensation, and more than anything, I want him to undress me. I want to lose myself in this, to forget everything for the sheer joy of having him close to me again.

Even though I know I can’t.

Hands grab me and haul me upright. My wide eyes manage to turn from the guy on the ground to the man holding my arm in a vice-like grip. He’s got to weigh three hundred pounds, and he’s easily a foot taller than I am, with a snake tattooed in strangely metallic ink on his neck. Other people surround us, a dozen at least. They regard me expressionlessly while one of them tucks a gun away beneath his jacket.

I look back toward Kyle. He’s still grinning like this is some great joke.

Reality is creeping back, though. Awareness of my body and the space around me. And with it comes rage. Cold, burning rage.

“What do you want?” I growl.

“Oh, look at that. She’s being brave now.” He smirks. “We want your help, Cait. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t work for fucking Linden. Get that through your head, asshole.”

Kyle makes a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, yeah, we figured that out. But that doesn’t change much for Josephine’s little girl, now does it?”

My stomach turns to lead. I fight to keep from showing any sign.

“Quite the revelation about your demon ancestry, isn’t it? Too bad I never met your mom. You and I could have had this discussion ages ago and saved a lot of trouble.”

“What do you want?” I repeat, my voice tightly controlled.

“To find somebody. A Touched who… well, let’s just say they’re different than the rest. Special, sort of like you.”

“Go screw yourself.”

He laughs.

“You tell your boss, Lucretia, she can shove it too. I’m not—”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he assures me dryly. “But here’s the thing, Cait… I don’t work for Volgert.”

I freeze.

“Well,” he hedges. “Technically I do, and up until a certain Legacy asshole started making deals and fucking up my plans to be the incubi in charge of finding that Touched—and thus the one in control of them—I was happy to keep everyone believing that. But then, that’s the point with coups. They look like one thing when they’re actually not.” His brow twitches up. “Sort of like your friend Amar.”

I stop breathing.

“See, I may not know exactly what he can do, but that doesn’t really bother me, because I do know he’s made another bargain with that nostalgic old relic, Lucretia, all for the soppy little reason of keeping you safe. Hell, he’s even given up his independence to seal the deal for your protection. And now he’s gotten himself into a terribly vulnerable position and he doesn’t have a clue.” His grin returns. “Be a shame if something happened as a result.”

Kyle chuckles when I don’t respond. “Here’s how it’s going to go: you find the Touched. You help my people bring them back to me. And you don’t tell anyone about it, or you get to watch me kill Amar and feed his body to a wood chipper. How’s that sound?”

Quivers start in my belly, radiating up through my chest.

A satisfied smile twists Kyle’s face. “You suck as a demon, you know. Human as hell. And him… damn, I would’ve expected better. Guess he’s not the paragon of a Legacy that he pretends to be.”

“You—” My eyes flash around, skipping across the parking garage where we’re standing. A yellow door to my right bears a sign about stairs. A large exit ramp of broken concrete stretches ahead of me, leading who knows where. “People will be looking for me. You can’t just—”

“Who? Those furry wastes of space you called bodyguards? Yeah, we took care of them. You’re on your own, Cait.”

My shivers get stronger. I can’t believe him. I don’t want to believe him. I hardly know Sorcha and Ulric but I… dammit, I like them.

The snake-tattooed monster holding my upper arm gives a small snort.

My gaze snaps to him. Static shoots over my body before I even register the impulse.

He grunts. A shimmer ripples through his skin, bright and metallic like the human color of his flesh is only an illusion. He glances down at me, and for a moment, his eyes are orbs of steel.

“Ow,” he growls, more anger than pain in his tone.

I wince when his grip clenches harder on my bicep.

“Clock’s ticking, Cait,” Kyle says. “You run, you fight, Amar dies. So what’s it going to be?”