Tera glared at Greyson for another second or two before answering. “Of course it’s possible. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m the only witch in the building at the moment. And I’m going to do a little something for you, so you’ll be better able to tell if any of us are around you.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course.” Tera tossed her head. Her long, straight blond hair caught a ray of sunlight and glowed for a moment before falling obediently behind her right shoulder. She gave Greyson and Nick a significant look. “Actually, it’s something we picked up from them.”

“What do you—”

Greyson leaned forward. “You’re going to do a betchimal . . .”

“You know what it is, then.”

“Of course I know what it is. I don’t know how to perform it, since you witches stole the knowledge, but—”

“Oh, will you give me a fucking break, Grey? It’s not like you’re so poor and downtrodden.” Tera gave the walls around them, gleaming pale in the morning light, a significant look. “I didn’t personally steal anything, okay? It’s not my fault you guys lost.”

“No, but you work for—”

“Okay.” Megan stood up. “That’s enough, you two. Can we get back to something that actually matters here? You know, someone trying to kill me? Someone who attacked an FBI agent and made her go seek out an exorcist, for whatever reason? I think we have bigger things to concern ourselves with than some centuries-old war. Don’t you?”

Silence hung heavy in the air for a second. Neither Tera nor Greyson bothered to blush or look sheepish, but she knew them both well enough to know that had they been a little less self-contained, they would have.

Then Tera spoke, her expertly colored lips curving into a smile. “FBI agent? What’s the FBI doing here, Greyson?”

Greyson smiled back. Megan could practically see the halo over his head. “How in the world would I know?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Megan said. She realized she was still standing, as if she was about to break into song, and plunked herself back down on the couch. “What does matter is that she’s here, and I think the thing—the witch, if it is a witch, which I guess it is—attacked her, and then she ran to the hotel to talk to the exorcism guy. I have no idea why, or why he would be involved in all of this, but I’d like to find out.”

Tera finished her muffin. “And where is this FBI agent now? Do you think she knows what attacked her?”

Megan shook her head. “She’s probably in her room, and no, I don’t think so. We went to see the reverend last night—”

“Reverend?”

“Reverend Walther, the exorcist. We went to see him last night, and I read him and saw his conversation with her. She wanted to join his crusade or whatever, but she didn’t mention demons or witches or anything specifically.”

Tera frowned and popped a piece of melon into her mouth. “Walther. That name sounds familiar. And don’t you think it’s possible that she wanted to join him because she knew what had come after her?”

“Yes, it’s possible, but I don’t think that’s the case. She seemed . . . kind of dazed. And she said she could help him. I don’t really see why she would offer to help him, if she knew she’d been attacked by something, well, not quite human. Or whatever.”

“A superior being,” Tera said.

“Hey! I’m human, remember.”

“Oh, I remember. Okay. I think the best thing to do is head down to her room. I’ll do a little spell so she’ll forget the attack, and we can wipe our hands of her at least.”

Greyson leaned forward. Had innocence been a tangible thing, like chocolate, he would have been brown from head to toe. “Perhaps it would be better to remove her memories of all of us and send her away. We wouldn’t want her getting in the way and being hurt again, would we?”

Tera’s eyes narrowed. For a long moment they all sat, silent, while she chewed her melon and thought whatever it was she was thinking. Megan suspected it had something to do with wishing desperately that Greyson’s idea wasn’t a good one and trying to think of a way to get out of doing what he wanted.

“I guess you’re right,” she said finally. “But I think you’re going to owe me a favor.”

“Done.”

“Okay, then.” Megan stood back up, this time for a reason. She wanted to get down to Agent Reid’s room as quickly as possible, and not just because it was nearing nine o’clock. She could never be sure how things were going to go when she had Greyson and Tera both in the same room; sometimes they got along just fine, even managed to joke and at least put on a good enough show of enjoying each other’s company. Other times they were like a couple of sharks fighting over the same tasty innocent victim. This was clearly one of the latter occasions.

Could she blame them? Perhaps they weren’t as edgy as she was—they weren’t the ones who’d almost been killed—but again, if either of them had been, she wouldn’t exactly have been in a chipper mood. The thought of something happening to either of them, of the hole that would leave in her life . . . She shuddered as she slipped on her shoes.

Eleven months ago she hadn’t known either of them existed and hadn’t really had anyone in the world, except her patients, who would even have noticed if she’d disappeared. Perhaps Althea—one of her old partners in the group practice—would have worried. Althea had kept in touch, sort of, but Megan hadn’t heard from her in a couple of months. Nobody else. She’d been alone, completely and totally, not even speaking to her family.

Now she had friends. A man she loved, who she knew loved her. A real family, even if they were a bunch of little demons who fed on human misery.

All that in less than a year. And the thought of some thing happening, of losing one of the people who’d enriched her life so much, sent a stab of fear straight to her heart. She shivered again, harder.

“Meg? You okay?” Greyson must have seen her shudder. When she turned around, he was watching her, his brows drawn together.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She gave him a bright smile. What the hell was her problem? Well, stupid question—someone was trying to kill her, after all—but where was this silliness about losing someone coming from? Tera had taken time off work—probably called in sick, but Megan had no idea what Vergadering’s vacation policies might be like—and come to stay at the Bellreive just to help her. And yes, Greyson was paying for her room and everything else, but she would have come anyway.

And Greyson . . . was buying things for a witch, had actually requested Tera’s presence. That’s how much he cared, how much he wanted Megan to be safe. He’d flown Nick up here on a moment’s notice, to protect her. And Nick had come—another person who cared about her.

So why, then, did she suddenly have the horrible feeling that it was all about to disappear, the way the body of her attacker disappeared over the edge of the roof, plummeting away from her so fast she couldn’t stop it?

Greyson was still watching her. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

“Yes, of course.” The smile was starting to make her cheeks ache. “Goose walked over my grave, is all.”

It was not the right cliché to use.