It didn’t escape his attention that she was starting to sound like Alec. “The grass wasn’t greener. It just didn’t have a guard dog.”

“Don’t blame this on Alec. He didn’t deserve to be hurt the way he was today.”

“He’s a big boy, Eve.”

She ran a hand over the top of her head and growled softly. “It’s one thing to know that what you’re doing can hurt someone. It’s another thing altogether to feel their pain as if it was your own. Alec really cares about me and I repay him by having a stupid crush on you.”

Reed struggled to stem cruel words. Damn it, that stung. He could tell her that what happened today wouldn’t have been possible if they didn’t have feelings for each other, but she knew that already. It was simply easier for her to pretend otherwise. Too bad for her, he was sick of pretending.

“The hurt you felt was your own,” he shot back.

“And you love that, don’t you?” Her lovely face took on a hardened cast, shutting him out. “It didn’t matter to you who you stuck your dick in, but you’re gloating that it mattered to me.”

“Think how much worse you’d feel if I’d stuck it in you. I did us both a favor.” And he was an asshole for doing it. He’d lied to himself about hiding the encounter from her. Her discovery had been inevitable, and some part of him had wanted to get to her that way. To show her how it felt to him, knowing that Cain could have her any time.

She laughed, the sound absent of any joy or humor. “You went to Izzie for me? What a great line. Pass all responsibility for your actions to my shoulders.”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her closer. “You would have spread your legs in a heartbeat if I’d bothered,” he snarled, “and we both know it. But like I said, I’ve seen that show. I’m waiting for the episode where you come to me.”

As short as she was, Eve still stood up to him. Her chin lifted, her shoulders went back. “You don’t need me, Reed. You want me, sometimes—apparently only when Alec is around to be irritated by it—but that’s as far as it goes. I won’t give up what I have for that.”

Reed pushed her away. “Then you should be really damn happy I played the gentleman today. Lord knows I didn’t do it for me.”

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his cell phone and turned it back on, keeping his gaze on the illuminating face rather than meeting Eve’s wounded and furious gaze. Due to Sara’s frequent calls, he had powered up his phone only long enough to call Raguel. He had no one to call now, but the act of playing with the damn thing gave both him and Eve the chance to cool down. They needed to work together on this, not bicker about what couldn’t be changed.

His phone beeped as it woke to full operation, but there were no waiting messages. That bothered him more than a full voicemail box. Sara was more inclined to escalate her attempts than to give up.

Eve acted as if she were focused on dusting herself off. “Let’s go.”

“Listen.” Reed looked at her. “I don’t know how long these residual connections between us will last.”

“We can’t get rid of them soon enough for me,” she muttered.

“You’re starting to use some of Cain’s phrasing, and we’ve established that we can feel each other’s emotions. That could be disastrous for all of us, if we don’t get it under control.”

“How so?”

“If Cain is gung-ho in his hunt for Charles, you could feel the same recklessness.”

Her frown altered into raised brows. “And if I feel fear, he could feel it.”

“Right. Which means we need to keep you even-tempered and focused while he’s hunting Grimshaw.” Not for his brother’s sake, but for Eve’s. If she was inadvertently responsible for crippling Cain in battle, she would never forgive herself.

“Then you should probably know,” she began with a determined glint in her dark eyes, “that if Gadara can’t get the base commander to delay those kids across the street, I’m going with them into Anytown tonight.”

Reed froze. “You are not going back there.”

“We can’t leave them here alone!”

“Raguel is dead, Eve.”

Eve stumbled back as if struck. He’d meant to break the news with more tact, but her pronouncement took him off guard.

“Abel.” A grim masculine voice broke the heavy silence.

Reed didn’t move his gaze from Eve, but she glanced at the door, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Montevista,” she breathed. “Where is Gadara?”

The guard replied unflinchingly, “In the belly of an Infernal.”

Reed studied the Mark, taking in the man’s stocky build and jaded eyes. There was a calm, steadfast air about him that inspired confidence. Reed could see why Raguel had relied on this Mark for his safety.

Eve’s lower lip quivered. “What happened?”

Montevista explained, visibly weary as he spoke. He looked at Reed when he was done. “Cain wants you to turn your phone on so he can call you.”

Reed glanced down at his cell, understanding now why he’d turned it back on to begin with. He was still connected to his brother in some way. He glanced at Eve, who seemed not to notice his dismay. She might be the conduit, but if so, she didn’t feel the information passing through her.

“What type of Infernal was it?” Eve crouched and began digging through the duffel bags again.

“I have no idea.”

She looked at Reed. “Was it your mystery demon?”

“The description is the same,” he said.

“We need to go back to that copse of trees and see what’s there that might help us go after Gadara.”

Montevista exhaled harshly. “You don’t believe he’s dead?”

“She doesn’t believe anything,” Reed growled, still stinging.

Eve glared at him. “Gadara doesn’t strike me as the type to commit suicide. Isn’t suicide a sin?”

“Murder defies God’s command,” Montevista answered. “Suicide is self-murder.”

“So it’s doubtful Gadara would do it, right? He must have had a plan.”

“We can hope, but how would he know how to deal with a class of Infernal we’ve never heard of before?”

“We haven’t, but maybe he has. It’s the first time he’s seen it right? Maybe he recognized it.”

“I doubt that,” Reed said. “Mariel and I described the creature very clearly.”

“I’m just tossing out ideas.” Eve finally gave up looking for her gun and stood. “We also have to take into consideration the setup you walked into—fire alarm set and Infernal restrained outside. If they’d wanted the soldiers dead, they would have killed them before you guys got there.”

Montevista looked at Reed. “Was she a cop?”

“Interior designer.”

“She’s pretty good at this for a novice.”

“Enough to be dangerous,” Reed agreed.

“Hey!” Eve pushed his shoulder, which didn’t budge him at all. “I’m right here.”

He shrugged. “You’re here. Whether or not you’re right remains to be seen.”

“You agree that the culprit is probably Grimshaw?” Montevista asked.

“If Gadara and Alec think so,” she said, shrugging, “I’ll follow their lead.”

“That’s a first.” Reed’s jaw set. “But you’re not going back to Anytown. That’s not debatable.”

“It makes sense that it would be the Alpha,” she continued, ignoring him. “He’s the only demon we know of who has openly declared war on us.”

Montevista tensed. “He has?”

“He’s already killed me once.”

“He has?” Running a rough hand through his close-cropped hair, Montevista cursed in Spanish.

“And we’re not having a repeat performance,” Reed said grimly, “which is why you’re not going to—”

His phone rang, interrupting his words. As he pulled it from his pocket, the muffled tune of his Jessie’s Girl ringtone became crystal clear. The caller’s name glowed on the screen.

Cain.

Growling, Reed lifted the phone to his ear. “What?”

“Fuck you, too,” his brother retorted. “Has Montevista reached you yet?”

“Yes. And we’re busy.”

“Have you arranged to meet with the colonel?”

Reed’s jaw clenched at the impatience in Cain’s tone. It didn’t help matters to see Eve and Montevista huddled together in conversation. “That’s none of your damn business.”

“It’s absolutely my business, since I’m heading Raguel’s firm in the interim.”

“No fucking way.” Raguel’s absence had created a firm vacancy. Shit. He should have made that mental leap earlier. His focus was still on finding Raguel, not replacing him. Once again, Cain was ahead of him, knocking him out of the running before he even had a chance to play.

“Yes way, little brother.” Cain’s tone was so smug, Reed wished he was nearby so they could talk with their fists.

“Then shift over here and deal with the colonel yourself!” Reed hung up, his mind whirling.

Cain’s mal’akh gifts had been curbed. He couldn’t shift from one location to another in any celestial way. His wings were clipped and discolored a dark, inky black. Why would he be given the power to rule a firm when he couldn’t be trusted with an angel’s gifts?

It was so unreasonable, Reed couldn’t believe it. Cain was a nomad, a wanderer, a sociopath. Aside from Eve, Reed couldn’t recollect anyone whose feelings Cain had put before his own. How could he be charged with the safety of millions of people?

And why in hell did he sound so damn pleased about it?