worse things. I’ve seen them. I did not want to be someone else’s monster. So here I stood in the early summer heat, pistol in my hand, waiting for my chosen executioner. May God, if he exists, have mercy on my soul…
Abruptly, I was Cassidy again, gasping for breath and holding onto the table for dear life.
Sorren slid the dueling pistols out of reach and Teag moved a cold glass of iced tea close to me. I took the glass in both hands to keep from spilling it and drank it down.
“That must have been some ride,” Teag observed.
I finished off the iced tea and set the glass aside, still feeling my heart thud in my chest at the remembered fear of a man who had died in a gunfight more than a hundred and fifty years ago.
“I saw him fight a Nephilim,” I said breathlessly, and recounted the fight that I had witnessed.
“How are they different from Reapers?” Teag asked.
“Two different types of evil creatures, both exceptionally nasty,” Sorren said. “Reapers are like disembodied ghouls. They feed on the spirits of the dead instead of decaying corpses. But the Reapers themselves can serve as food for bigger, badder spirits – like the Nephilim.”
A horrible thought occurred to me. “Could a more powerful spirit consider Reapers like cattle to be fattened up, in order to provide a power boost for some kind of big magical attack?”
Sorren nodded. “It would take a very powerful spirit – or sorcerer – to do that, but it’s possible, at least in theory.”
“And Daniel Hunter said he thinks someone – or something – is trying to bring other creatures through from somewhere else,” I said. “As if Reapers and Nephilim weren’t bad enough on their own.”
“Those would be the Watchers,” Sorren said. “Especially if someone intends to bring a Harrowing, which is what Sariel did back in 1854. The Nephilim are the foot soldiers. Watchers are the generals. They can manipulate people’s thoughts, and since – like the Nephilim – the Watchers are fallen angels, they’re merciless judges of everyone except themselves.”
“And those guilt-fests are the Watchers manipulating our thoughts?” I asked, thinking about the odd moments of crippling guilt I had felt whenever Coffee Guy was around.
Sorren nodded. “Which is further proof that at least one Watcher has come across and is nearby. So Daniel is telling the truth in that, at least. And the fact that you’ve encountered the ‘guilt-fest’, as you call it, worries me. It means the Watcher is close enough to stalk you.”
“It’s the illusion part that worries me,” Teag said. “If Nephilim can pass themselves off as human, they’re going to be hard to spot.” He gave a lopsided grin. “We can’t go around shooting everyone who looks like a movie star.”
“What do Watchers look like?” I asked.
Sorren shrugged. “They’re basically senior Nephilim, so they can make themselves look just as human. They use their good looks to seduce, but there’s no reason they couldn’t make themselves look average if it suited their purpose – like blending in.”
I was beginning to see why the people I’d met in the supernatural protector business seemed paranoid. Handsome Nephilim were bad enough, but the idea that Watchers could look like regular people was downright terrifying.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now, we’ve got to find out how many Watchers have been brought across, and whether it’s Sariel or someone else, we’ve got to stop him before he can bring down a Harrowing on this city,” Sorren replied. “Since Daniel Hunter is being difficult, I’ll track him down myself and find out what’s he’s up to. He’s good in a fight, and we’re going to need all the help we can get. Not only is the clock ticking – we’re way behind.”
DETECTIVE MONROE SHOWED up at Trifles and Folly bright and early the next day. She didn’t bother with chit-chat. “What were you doing yesterday afternoon?”
I weighed my options. Legally, I didn’t have to answer her. I could route all questions through my lawyer, which happened to be Anthony. I could remain silent, make her jump through hoops to get scraps. On the other hand, Monroe was a pit bull, and she wasn’t going to go away easily. She might even enjoy the challenge, and we’d be locked in a tug of war. I didn’t have time for that.
“Minding the shop and running some errands,” I replied.
“A Volvo that looks a lot like your assistant store manager’s car was spotted near the big explosion yesterday,” Monroe