Cayman giggled, and it was as creepy as I imagined a demon giggling would be. “By the way, has he come here since he Fell? If so, I love chatting with you, but I’m going to have to bounce out of here like a rubber ball.”

“He hasn’t yet. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t remember where he lives or if he’s avoiding the apartment.”

“Either way, I’m counting that as a bonus.” He rested an arm on the back of the couch. “And you should, too.”

I would, except Zayne coming here would make finding him a lot easier. Wouldn’t help in the catching him off guard department, though. “So, do you know if the Crone is still at that hotel?” I got us back on track, and it was weird to be the person doing that when I was usually the one veering everyone off track. “And can you tell me where the hotel is?”

“I can take you to the hotel, but I have no idea if the Crone is still around and you’re on your own once you get there,” he added. “I think you’re a cool little half angel, but I don’t mess with the witches unless I’m summoned to broker a deal. I don’t want to inadvertently tick one of them off and end with unmentionable parts of me that I’m fond of falling off or something equally terrible.”

“Understandable.”

“And before you demand that I take you there right now or when the sun comes up, you definitely won’t find the Crone up at this time or anywhere but with her family on Sunday.”

I hadn’t even realized tomorrow was Sunday. Or today. Whatever. “Witches recognize Sunday as a day of rest?”

“That they do. So do some demons.”

All righty, then.

“Your best bet is to try Monday afternoon.” Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, he lifted his hand. The remote flung itself to him. “Get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

Even though sleep seemed like the last thing I’d be able to do, I needed the rest, but Cayman couldn’t stay here.

“You should leave,” I told him.

Cayman arched a brow. “That’s rude.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you here. It’s just not safe for you,” I reasoned. “Zayne hasn’t come here yet, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. Even you were worried about that, and if I’m asleep and he comes, you’re dead.”

“And if you’re asleep and he comes, you’re dead,” he pointed out.

“He hasn’t killed me yet and he’s had plenty of opportunity. I don’t think he’s going to come here, but if you’re here, I’m not going to get any rest worrying about you getting murdered while I’m getting my beauty sleep,” I replied. “You do have someplace to go, right?”

He nodded. “I have places that Zayne hasn’t been to.”

“Then go there. I’ll text you in the morning.”

Cayman studied me for a moment. “Does this mean you like me? Care for me? Going to name any future babies after me?”

I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you do like me.” He pointed the remote at me and then him. “A wee little Trueborn cares about the safety of a demon. The world is surely going to end.”

“Whatever.” I grinned. “Get out of my house.”

“It’s an apartment.”

“Shut up.”

Cayman laughed as he rose from the couch. “I’m not going to lie. I’d rather be far away from wherever the Fallen-but-superhot Zayne will be, so try not to get killed between now and tomorrow.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“See you later, home skillet.” Cayman flashed the peace sign and then did the demon pop thing when he simply disappeared.

I really envied that.

Making sure the door was locked, I shuffled back to bed, and the moment my head hit the pillow I fell asleep.

I don’t know what woke me, but something did. Disorientated, I sat up. It was still dark outside and the room was softly lit by the Constellation of Zayne. Wishing my eyes would get on board, I looked around the room.

A series of tingles erupted between my shoulder blades, erasing the lingering haze of sleep.

A demon was nearby.

Had Cayman returned? I doubted that as I shoved the blanket off and stood. The borrowed shirt slid past my hips and thighs as I reached for my daggers—

Dammit, they were still in the bathroom. I hurried in there, snatching them off the counter. I made my way into the living room. The overhead light in the kitchen had been left on, courtesy of Cayman, and I could see that no one was in the apartment. The feeling remained, though, buzzing between my shoulders. Was there a demon in a nearby apartment?

And where in the Hell was Peanut?

I started toward the door when I heard it—a clicking, scratching sound against glass. Slowly, I turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I could see nothing but darkness and distant, smudged light, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something scratching at the windows.

“Oh, man,” I muttered, creeping forward. Considering we were pretty high up in the apartment building, I knew there wasn’t, like, a rather harmless, fluffy animal out there.

Grip tightening on the iron daggers, I passed the couch and my steps slowed. There was definitely something out there—the shadows were thicker. The eerie clicking came again, followed by the sound of something sharp digging against the thick glass.

I stopped in front of the window, squinting as I leaned forward, pressing my face against the cool—

Coal-red eyes set above flattened, fur-covered nostrils stared back at me.

I yelped, jumping back from the window. Suddenly I knew why it seemed like the shadows were moving. It was wings I’d been seeing, and there was definitely something furry outside the windows.