She blinked as though jolted, and then sat down, eyeing him as he ate.

“Okay,” he said finally, noticing she hadn’t touched her ice cream, “what gives?”

Em grabbed her spoon and pushed the scoops around the bowl as I continued to chew. “Mom told me who you really are.” Her voice was quiet and small.

“Oh.” Rex paled. “Shit.” I kicked him under the table. “I mean … well … yeah, about that …” I’d never actually seen Rex at a loss for words before. He dragged a shaky hand through his damp hair and shot me a glare. “Thanks for the warning.” I decided to show mercy and intervene, swallowing my bite and then clearing my throat.

“Can he hear me?” Emma asked before I could speak.

“Uh … well, no I don’t think so.” At her instant disappointment, he hurried on. “But I think he can sense things. You. Your mom. He’s aware, I guess you could say, just not in an active way.”

“So can’t you just leave him?” she asked, and it was Rex’s turn to look hurt.

“Feeling the love right now, ladies. Feelin’ the love.” He plopped his spoon in the bowl, looking totally dejected. “Sure I can leave him. Just feed me some arsenic, stick me under a guillotine, shoot me in—” I kicked him again, this time harder. “Ow! Stop kicking me!”

I’m sure my kid would love to hear that Revenants entered at the brink of death and left on the brink of death. Sure, Rex could heal Will’s body and stay until old age or natural causes took him, but he didn’t have to. If a Revenant wanted to leave, because the body was getting too old and decrepit to enjoy life or for whatever reason, he simply put the host into a suicide type situation or was careless enough that an accident would happen. It was the dark and dirty side of possession, and one of the reasons why soul-bartering was illegal.

“It’s okay,” Em told me. “I know how they leave.” She blinked rapidly and stared down. “I don’t know why I asked that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said. “Right now, Dad is safe. He’s not going anywhere. And Rex isn’t leaving until we find a way for him to leave safely, without hurting Dad. Right, Rex?”

“I already said as much. I’m not the bad guy here, you know.”

Em nodded to no one in particular, finally spooning a bite of ice cream into her mouth.

For a while, we ate in silence. Until Rex cleared his throat and nudged Emma with his elbow. “So, um, me and you … we’re cool, right?”

The determined gaze she gave him impressed even me. “So long as you keep my dad safe and promise not to leave him. Then, yeah. I guess we’re cool.”

“Cool.”

An uncomfortable few seconds passed before small talk resumed. And when Emma started telling Rex about communicating with Brim, I knew we’d somehow get through this. It wasn’t hard to see the relief. Emma finally understood her odd suspicions and feelings, and Rex was able to be himself, which he’d been all along anyway—so much for the acting skills. And me, I didn’t have to lie anymore or pretend. Still, it was more than odd sitting around the table with my family, with a man that looked and sounded just like my ex-husband, and knowing he was trapped inside there somewhere.

I saw it in Emma’s eyes, too. The curious looks, the sadness, and even the hope when we talked about ways to bring Will back. That was the only thing keeping her together, the knowledge that he was in there somewhere; she could see him, touch him, and know he was safe. And one day he’d be back. And Rex, well, he could charm the pants off anyone, and Emma was no exception. She’d been completely taken with him from the start; she just didn’t fully understand that the craziness was coming from Rex rather than her dad.

After the ice cream was gone, I stood at the sink rinsing the bowls as they went into the backyard to let Brim destroy the bowling ball. Their muffled voices floated through the window, sounding relaxed and easy, above the soft clink of the dishes.

Without warning, my chest constricted, and my throat swelled. Intense loneliness filled me. Tears burned my eyes and I sniffed, finishing my task and then going upstairs to bury my face in my pillow.

For once I wished I had a warm, hard, male body to curl into, to make me feel safe and protected. I had to look out for everyone, to comfort and protect them … but where was my protector?

I stared at the empty spot next to me, remembering Will lying on his back, one leg bent and one arm thrown over his head. How it was the perfect invite for me to scootch over and rest my head on his chest. His arm would come down around me and his hand, warm from sleep, would rub my arm.

Yeah. Lonely. That explains everything.

My dreams kept me tossing and turning for a large part of the night and morning, my mind playing over disjointed scenes of the warehouse, the hellhound, and Llyran being pulled through the window and into the darkness.

Aaron had warned me. My blood would make me a target, a beacon to all the psychos and grand-scheming lunatics of the world. Because I was different, seen as an instrument. An anomaly. Something unique and powerful.

Hah. If only they knew how random that power was, and how little I knew to control it.

I rolled over and hit the alarm button before it could ring. Great potential, my ass, I thought, returning to my back and throwing my arms wide with a loud huff, wanting nothing more than to pull the comforter over my head and sleep all day.

I turned my head to snuggle into the pillow, catching movement on my forearm. My skin turned paler, almost a creamy white, as my veins became more prominent. Then they moved, making patterns. “What …”

I shot up, sitting straight, my heart in my throat. What the hell? I blinked hard and then opened my eyes. Nothing. Just my forearm and the long, partially healed scar that ran down the middle where I’d sliced my vein open to bring darkness to the city.

Emma’s door creaked, followed by the tap of Brimstone’s claws on the floor and then the thuds on the stairs as they went down to the back door.

Just blood vessels and my fuzzy morning eyesight, I told myself. Yeah, blood vessels that moved and made linked, script-like patterns.

Just get up and get moving. Get working on the case.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and filed the episode away, making a note to mention the odd visions I’d been having to Aaron at our next training session, then I listened to my inner voice, grabbing my clothes and heading to the downstairs bathroom since mine was partially destroyed.

Once dressed in dark cargo pants and a stretchy white button-down shirt, I twisted up my hair with a clip, put in my diamond studs, and applied a layer of mascara and a quick swipe of clear lip gloss. The aroma of brewing coffee led me to the kitchen where I expected to find Rex tooling around, but he was nowhere in sight. Ravenous, I wolfed down a plain bagel and fixed two cups of coffee, one for Rex, and then leaned against the counter, taking several sips of the thick, hot liquid and feeling infinitely better.

Em came down the stairs in her school uniform—white blouse, Black Watch plaid skirt, knee-high white socks, and black Mary Janes. Her book bag was slung over one shoulder, a Pop Tart in her mouth that she must’ve grabbed when she let Brim out earlier, and her other hand holding her Cobweb outfit for the play. I set the cup down and pulled the Pop Tart out of her mouth. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Practice for the play starts at four.” A horn honked outside. “That’s Miss Marti and Amanda. I have to go. It’s dress rehearsal, so I won’t be home until seven.”

“Okay. Have fun, kid. And leave your amulets on when you change.” I kissed her and then stuck the Pop Tart back into her waiting mouth. She smiled, somehow mumbling a goodbye as she trotted down the hall, the fairy wings on her costume bobbing, and out the front door.