"I can imagine." Ben leaned back in his chair and Cam came back to the couch. "Well, you certainly seem to be… undead. Do you know what your body temperature is?"

"Not sure. Most regular thermometers won't register at all. I think it hovers around sixty, but that's just a guess."

"I think that alone would qualify you for dead. It's the undead part I'm wondering about. Maybe you're a zombie."

"Don't think so," said Cam, sitting back. "I do seem to have a will of my own and I don't have any interest in human flesh, just blood— though I don't really need much more than a cup or so most of the time. I don't like the sun. I don't cast much of a shadow, or a reflection—at least not that I can see. Sometimes I can make people think I'm invisible. Except Harper."

"What happened to your arm?" Ben asked. "You keep cradling it."

"Some jerk broke it earlier tonight with a crowbar, then Harper shot me."

Ben glared at me. "Shot you?"

I glared back. "He started to attack me."

"Hey, it's all right," Cam cut in. "I deserved it. Besides, it'll be OK soon. I heal fast."

Ben started toward Cameron. "Let me take a look at that."

He was staring at the closed bullet hole when Mara came in. He jumped when she spoke.

"What are you up to, Ben?" she asked.

"Looking at this wound. It's amazing."

"Ben. He's not a specimen. He's a guest. Don't be rude."

Ben looked sheepish and retreated to his chair as Mara set a tray of pie and coffee on the table. She handed out mugs and plates as she spoke.

"Harper says you're in need of a place to stay. How did that come about?"

"I… was sleeping in my car and a couple of featherless bipeds broke in," Cameron explained.

"Featherless… oh," she added and began laughing. "That won't do."

"He seems trustworthy enough," Ben suggested. "If it's all right with you, I'd be glad to have Cameron stay."

"You shan't stay up and examine him all night, now will you?"

"Mara…."

"Oh, all right. I don't mind. Albert says he's promised to be good and you can't make promises lightly to ghosts."

Cameron looked startled. Mara gave him a stern look, then broke up. "It's all right. Albert won't task you, though he'll probably follow you about. He's very protective. Do you need anything special?"

"Um, no," Cam stammered. "I don't think so. I'm kind of nervous without my dirt, but I think I'll be OK. This is still Seattle, after all. Especially in the basement, I think I'll be close enough to the dirt to be OK."

"What's this about dirt?" Ben asked.

Cameron was about to launch into an explanation about native earth when Mara passed him a slice of pie. Cameron gazed at it with nostalgic longing and refused.

"No?" said Mara.

"Oh, no. It looks delicious—it's just that… uh, I can't…," he stumbled.

"Allergy?" she asked.

"No, I puke."

Ben and I cringed, but Mara laughed.

"You're not very good at lying, are you?"

"Terrible."

"You'll have to learn. All right?"

Cameron nodded.

"Ah, well. I'm certain Ben will find a spot for this slice, too."

Ben looked up from his already half-eaten slice. "Hmm… well, OK."

"What do you do, Cameron?" Mara asked. "Aside from the obvious."

He sipped his coffee and answered slowly, "Urn, I was a student at the U."

"Are you graduating, then?"

Ben fidgeted. "Mara…"

"Oh, Ben. I shan't embarrass the lad by asking him awful questions like your sister did me. Don't be so silly. So," she continued, turning her bright green stare back to Cam.

"I… I'm on a leave of absence from school for a little while. For medical reasons."

"That's better."

"Thank you."

"What are you studying?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I'm going to go back."

"Whyever not? Learning's a marvelous thing, if you can manage to avoid an education."

"What?"

"The indoctrination. The interchangeable parts result. You know what I mean, I'm sure."

"Oh, yes," he replied. He played with his cup and sipped his coffee again. "That's one of the things that's been bothering me. I don't know what to do with myself—if I survive this. What do I do with my… Me?"

"You've a few things to work out first, I imagine. Still, knowledge for its own sake is worthwhile, if you can afford the tuition. There's a gentleman in one of my lectures—he's fifty-nine, I think—who's working on his fourth degree. He's got loads of credits, so he just keeps taking classes, and occasionally he completes a curriculum quite by accident and they give him another piece of paper. He's having a grand time."

Cameron looked thoughtful. "I hadn't really looked at it that way. I… have time."

"What are you going to do first?"

"I need to solve some problems. Harper is going to help me."

"Hey," I objected. "I haven't said yes yet."

Cameron grinned at me and the pie tap-danced in my belly. "You're not going to say no."

I found myself pressing back into the couch and starting to nod.

Mara cleared her throat as Ben leaned forward. Albert formed in heavy mist by Cameron's elbow, flickering like a wet flame.

Cam jumped. "What?" I relaxed.

Mara had narrowed her eyes. Albert drifted toward her.

"Um…. Cameron," Ben started. "Whatever you just did, I don't think you should do that."

"What? What did I do?"

"That was a geas," Mara said. "Persuasion by psychic force. Bad form to try it on your friends."

"I can do that? I thought that was a myth."

"Apparently not. You have power—or you will have. You mustn't abuse it."

Cameron's eyes grew round. "I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

I stood up and grabbed my cup and plate. "It's all right," I lied. "No big deal. I'm just going to take these to the kitchen."

Mara got up, too. "You lads chat. I'll help Harper with the dishes."

Mara closed the kitchen door behind us.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I assured. "He didn't mean to do whatever he did. I just needed to get away from it. Have I done the wrong thing, bringing him here?"

"Not at all. That lad needs help. Between us, I'm sure we'll get it all settled just fine. Ben and I were busy before you arrived. There'll be nothing to worry about. So long as we make it through the night safely."

I slept poorly with Mara's comment in my head and, having agreed to meet Quinton at nine a.m., I had to rise at seven, but I did not shine.

Quinton was waiting with the Camaro outside my office building.

"Morning!" he greeted as I walked up. "Figured you'd be punctual. She's all ready to go."

"What did you do, get up at five?" I asked.

"Nope. Didn't go to bed."

"You stayed up all night to work on Cameron's car?"

"No. I was going to be up all night anyway, so I just tacked on a couple of hours at the end. It was pretty easy once I had the part. We tested the system out about an hour ago and it works just fine. Your guy should be happy with it."

"Why don't you like him?"

He glowered at me. "I've never been very fond of his kind. They put my hackles up. I didn't mean to be a jerk, it just came out."

"That's OK, but try to be a little smoother about it next time."

"You think there's going to be a next time?"

"Well," I said, "I'm beginning to think there could be."

"Oh? Are your clients getting shady?"

"More than you can know."

"Judging from this one, I can guess. Well, I'm always available. There are some things I won't do, but I can't imagine you asking me to do them."

"Don't be too sure, Quinton. You don't know me and my business as well as you think you do."

He gave me a Cheshire-cat smile. "Don't hesitate to call."

I bought him a cup of coffee—more because I needed one than because he wanted one—and he gave me his bill and explained the system to me. We disarmed and armed it twice, just to make sure.