Anger helped me overcome my fear. "Oh really? What about Hugh?"

 "Which one's he?"

 "The imp."

 "Ah, yes. Well, I had to keep setting an example, didn't I? So, yeah, I messed with him a little. He'd been impertinent to you. But I didn't kill him." He looked at me in what I supposed was meant to be an encouraging type of way. "That was for your benefit."

 I stayed silent. I recalled how Hugh had looked in the hospital. Impertinent?

 "And what about the others?" he pushed. "That annoying angel? The vampire that threatened you? I wanted to break his neck on the spot. I got rid of them for you. I didn't have to do that."

 I felt ill. I wanted no deaths on my hands. "Most considerate of you."

 "Come on, give me a break here. I had to do something, and really, once I'd met your vampire friend at the dance lesson, I couldn't bring myself to do anything to him at all. You put me in a really tight spot. I was running out of victims."

 "Sorry for the inconvenience," I snapped, ire rising at his pathetic show of compassion. "Is that why you took it easy on me that night?"

 He frowned. "What do you mean?"

 "You know what I mean!" Thinking back to my attack, it all made perfect sense. It had occurred after I'd been to Krystal Starz, the day after I'd run out on Roman at the concert. A perfect excuse for him to be angry and seek retaliation. "Remember? The day after Doug's concert? After I'd been with Seth?"

 Understanding washed over Roman's features. "Oh. That."

 "That's all you have to say?"

 "It was a bit juvenile, I admit, but you can hardly blame me. It wasn't easy watching you cozy up to Mortensen after freaking out on me like that. I'd watched you go home with him the night before. I had to do something."

 I sprang up from my seat, old apprehension returning. "You had to do something? Like beat the crap out of me in an alley?"

 Roman raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? I told you I would never hurt you."

 "Then what are you talking about?"

 "I'm talking about that ice cream place. I'd followed you two around earlier in the day, and when I saw how cute you were getting over dessert, I got jealous and blew the door open. Juvenile, as I said."

 "I remember that..." I trailed off stupidly, recalling how the door had blown open at the parlor, letting the outside wind wreak havoc in the small store. Wind like that was certainly uncharacteristic here, yet I had never suspected supernatural influence. He was right; it had been juvenile.

 "So what's the alley thing you're talking about?" he prompted.

 I snapped out of my memory. "Later... that night. I'd been running errands, and you... or someone... attacked me on the way home."

 Roman's face turned cold, his eyes sharpening to aqua steel. "Tell me. Tell me everything. Exactly what happened."

 I did, explaining my lead to the Harrington book, subsequent trip to Krystal Starz, and walk home in the dark. I edited the part about my rescuer, however. I didn't want Roman to know I had more than a casual acquaintance with Carter, lest the nephilim think I might be a deterrent to his plans. The more he thought I had no interest in the angel, the more likely I would be able to get out some kind of warning.

 Closing his eyes, Roman leaned his head against the wall when I finished, sighing. Suddenly, he looked less like a dangerous killer and more like a tired version of the man I'd come to know and nearly love. "I knew it. I knew noninterference was too much to ask."

 "What... what do you mean?" A strange feeling crawled down my spine.

 "Nothing. Forget it. Look, I'm sorry about that. I should have taken precautions beforehand to protect you. I knew too... the next day? When I came by and you cut things off between us? I could tell you had been hurt, even through your shape-shifting. I could tell it was supernaturally inflicted too, but I never suspected... I thought it was some other immortal—one of your own circle—you'd tangled with. You had sort of a residual effect on you... the faint traces of someone else's power... like a demon's..."

 "But that's not—oh. You mean Jerome."

 "Daddy dearest again? Don't tell me... don't tell me he did something to you too." Roman's brief lapse into mildness faded, replaced by something more sinister.

 "No, no," I said hastily, recalling Jerome's psychic slap, pinning me to the couch. "It wasn't like that. It was more of a show of power that I caught the edge of. He wasn't the one who hurt me. He'd never hurt me."

 "Good. I'm still not happy about what happened in the alley, mind you, but I'll have a little chat with the guilty party and make sure it never happens again. When I saw you that day, I had half a mind to take out all the immortals in the area. The thought of someone hurting you..." Closer and closer he came to me. Hesitantly, he squeezed my arm. I didn't know whether to recoil or reach out to him. I didn't know how to reconcile my old attraction with this new terror. "You have no idea how much I care about you, Georgina."

 "Then how... in the alley—"

 Before I could follow that thought to completion, another suddenly poked its head up at Roman's words. When I saw you that day. He had visited me the day after the attack, coming over while Carter investigated a nephilim signature. But that was impossible. I couldn't remember where that particular signature had occurred, but it had not been close by. Roman could not have flashed Carter and then made it over to my apartment so quickly.

 Iknew noninterference was too much to ask for. I'll have a little chat with the guilty party.

 I understood then why Roman felt he could take on Carter, why having less power than the angel would pose no concern. The realization sank into me like lead, heavy and cold. I'm not sure what look crossed my face, but Roman's suddenly softened with compassion.

 "What's the matter?"

 "How many?" I whispered to him.

 "How many what?"

 "How many nephilim are in the city?"

 CHAPTER 23

 "Two," he said after a moment's hesitation. "Just two."

 "Just two," I repeated flatly, thinking oh shit. "Is that including you?"

 "Yes."

 I rubbed my temples, wondering how I could warn Jerome and Carter that we had two nephilim to deal with now. No one had mentioned that possibility.

 "Someone should have known that," I muttered, more to myself than to Roman. "Someone should have sensed it... there would have been two different nephilim signatures. That's how Jerome knew it was you. You have a unique signature—no one else has it."

 "No one else," Roman agreed with a smirk, "except my sister."

 Oh shit.

 "Jerome didn't mention more than one—ah." I blinked in sudden understanding. Jerome, by his own admission, hadn't actually been around for the birth. "Twins? Or... more?" The archdemon could have fathered quintuplets for all I knew.

 Roman shook his head, still highly amused at my deductions. "Only twins. Just the two of us."

 "So this is a family act then? You two hit the road together, going from town to town, wreaking havoc..."

 "Nothing so glamorous, love. Usually it's just me. My sister tries to keep a low profile—spends more time on her job and living her life. She doesn't really get caught up in grand machinations."

 "Then how'd you rope her into this one?" Again, I thought about Erik's words, how most nephilim simply wished to be left alone.

 "She lives here. In Seattle. We're on her turf, so I talked her into going in on the final kill with me. She wasn't really into any of the stuff with the lesser immortals."

 "Except beating on me," I pointed out.

 "I am sorry about that. I think you pissed her off."