Bewilderment swept Mark’s handsome features, darkening his eyes. “I am. Was. What?”

I pushed away, trusting him less than my feet, which weren’t any too steady. It was a nice little apartment, with a hall off to the left that presumably led to the bedrooms. The furniture in the living room we were in looked comfortable. I put my hand on the back of the couch, hoping it would steady me. Mostly its squishiness made me want to curl up and whimper until I fell asleep. I rotated myself a few degrees so I could watch Mark.

“What’s an English major doing working in a physics department? What’s Project Rainbow? Why are you here, Mark? Who are you?” My voice was changing again, high and thready. Maybe it wasn’t my ears at all.

Mark moved around to look at me worriedly as I swayed. “How do you even know about Project Rainbow? It’s a—I worked for the physics department because physicists need people to translate what they’re writing into plain English so they can get grant money, Joanne. Barb got me the job. She’s been the department’s receptionist since college.” He spread his hands, expression twisted with confusion. “Project Rainbow’s a quantum physics project my lab’s been working on, this thing about dimensions and other worlds lying alongside ours. They’ve been trying to open a—well, the plain English translation is a wormhole. A passage into other worlds. They did their first test just a couple weeks ago. The project’s named for the song, you know? The Rainbow Connection. Joanne, what’s wrong?”

“A couple of weeks.” Just at the same time Coyote had gone missing, I bet. “Wormholes. Jesus Christ. Congratulations. I think it worked. You punched through to another reality and finished what I started.” I laughed, high-pitched painful sound. “Oh, that makes sense, in a completely screwed up way. No wonder you got hit. They’re all sleeping down there in Arizona, Mark. How come you and Barb woke up?”

His gaze went fuzzy with uncertainty. “What are you talking about?”

“Your mom must’ve been right.” I wasn’t talking to him anymore. “You must have Navajo blood in you somewhere, if the rez got hit and everybody woke up, and then your department did, but you’re awake, too. So it’s another demon.” My voice dropped, all my thoughts and attention turned inward. “Okay. That gives me something to work with. Some kind of Dine demon.” That was kind of fun to say, plus I was proud of myself for remembering the Navajo word for themselves. “You’re some kind of Dine demon.”

“Joanne.” Mark came toward me cautiously, holding his hands wide. “Are you okay? You’re not making any sense.”

“Get away from me!” I clutched the back of the couch, trying to keep my balance. I’d think after a whole lifetime of not having any power, cutting myself off from it after six months wouldn’t totally disrupt my system. I knew I could turn it back on, access it again, but with Mark in the room and Morrison so exposed, I didn’t dare.

Mark stopped dead, hands still spread. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Joanne.”

“Your aura! It’s all screwed up and it fits with Barb’s perfectly! And there are butterflies in the dark spaces!” I sounded like a lunatic. Mark took a slow step backward. I didn’t know if he was trying to calm me down or trying to get away from the crazy lady.

“Barb and I are twins, Jo. Fraternal twins. We told you that.” He offered a lopsided smile that was endearing even when I was in the midst of half-panicked uncertainty. “I guess it’d make sense our auras would fit together. What do you mean, it’s screwed up? Butterflies? Dark spaces?” His smile went a little more fragile. “I’m glad you want to talk about your shamanism thing, but I don’t have the frame of reference for your use of the language. And I hate to change the subject, but I really think I need to know what’s going on with you and Captain Morrison.”

“You’re such an English major,” I whispered. I wanted to like this guy. I did like this guy. It just figured he’d turn out to be some kind of monster in larger scheme of things. Then my head shifted of its own accord, small motion that made the muscles in my neck creak. “Nothing’s going on. He’s my boss. Is Barb here?”

Mark held up his hands, careful appeasing gesture. “Maybe we can talk about Barb in a while, Jo. I want to talk about us right now.”

“Us? There isn’t an us. Usses are for people who—who—” I was not doing so well with the words. “Who aren’t us. She’s here, isn’t she? What are you guys doing here, anyway, Mark? Why’d you come to Seattle?”

He hesitated. “Barb wanted to, and I’d never been.”

“You always do what she wants?”

A tiny smile played over his mouth. “Yeah, pretty much. Bossy big sister, you know? Seventeen whole minutes older than me. She’s got the adventuresome streak, I guess. She’s kind of the tough one.”

“The female of the species is more deadly than the male? Great.” I got to fight with the mean sibling. On the other hand, at least she didn’t have Mark’s reach. “When’d you two get here?”

Mark’s eyes went fuzzy, eyebrows drawn down over them. After a couple seconds he frowned more deeply and looked away, shaking his head. “A few days ago. Maybe on the Fourth.”

And Billy’d gone to sleep that night. “Mark.” I said his name carefully. “How’d your sister get herself invited to the North Precinct Fourth of July party if she’s never been to Seattle before?”

“Well, she…” His forehead wrinkled until I thought it must hurt. “I don’t know. She makes friends fast. She’s cute.”

“Yeah,” I said. “She is. And I bet she does.” As easily as Mark had made friends with me, in fact. I was starting to get a list in my head, gifts that my opponent seemed to have in his repertoire. Charm. Good looks. I remembered the dreams I’d had, and shivered. The ability to offer a girl things she wanted through the sleeping world. A vampiric tendency to drain life from people, an affinity for butterflies and a dislike of topaz. It seemed like a bizarre combination of talents for a demon of any sort, but the razors in the blackness of Mark’s aura and my sleeping friends made me more inclined to believe it than not.

Very, very cautiously I reached for the power lying quietly inside me. It stirred and sparked like an engine rolling over, not quite sure it wanted to start. Since I wasn’t quite sure I wanted it to, either, I didn’t object to its reluctance. But those sparks set something off inside of me, a very thin trickle of magic that spilled through my veins like a promise. It felt like Petite idling at a stoplight, with me grinning at the guy in the souped-up Civic next to me ’cause I knew I could dust him at the drop of a hat.

Not that I, a good, law-abiding citizen and one of Seattle’s finest, would ever, ever think of street racing, or a ten-second quarter mile. Especially not down that long stretch of Aurora that got relatively little traffic late at night, with kids listening in on police scanners while a lot of money got put on the line. Because, after all, Petite was a very recognizable vehicle, and Morrison would kill me.

If he could catch me, anyway.

Which was sort of the same principle I wanted to try on Mark. I didn’t know if Barb would’ve noticed me, psychically speaking, if I hadn’t gone in on the astral level first. Once I did, there was no going back, but Mark’s butterfly-ridden rainbows didn’t seem to be actively considering me a threat, despite my initial foray. If the power he and Barbara shared really was split up, she might be carrying the aggressive side—red and yellow in her colors even suggested that. Mark’s power might be more passive, so if I didn’t attack it directly, it might ignore me. He might not even realize it was there.

That might mean I hadn’t fallen for a bad guy, which would be nice. I wasn’t counting on it.

The trickle of power running through me finally made it to my eyes, sliding the Sight on. Mark’s aura still flexed and bent with uncertainty, but the black slashes between colors didn’t strike out at me, or suddenly fill with butterfly eyes. I rubbed the heel of my hand against my breastbone, then exhaled deeply. “Okay. You’re coming back to my place.”