"Hello," I said without turning.

"I need to speak to you."

My fingers tightened around my coffee cup, but I kept my tone even. "Good. I need to talk to you too."

"A private word, then. In the garden, please."

Hmm… That sounded suspicious, but there was nothing in his bearing or his manner to suggest he had seduction on his mind. Quite the opposite. Cool and professional.

"I'm right behind you," I said.

I followed him through the house to the back doors.

He still walked with that odd gait-graceful and relaxed yet purposeful. Some affectation he was practicing for an upcoming segment?

When we reached the garden, I tried to catch up, but he only moved faster. Afraid Claudia was peering from a window? Seeing me "following" him into the garden wouldn't make her any happier.

Finally he stopped, his back still to me. Then, as he turned, he inclined his head in an oddly formal nod, coupled with a tiny smile.

"Jaime O'Casey. A pleasure."

A dart of panic raced through me. No one in the business knew my real name. But if Grady thought this gave him some leverage over me, he was wrong. Vegas was just a stage name; I wasn't hiding anything.

I looked at him. His gray-blue eyes now shone a blue brighter than the sky. Impossibly and unnaturally bright. I backpedaled. He grabbed my arm. His fingers were so hot I could feel them through my sleeve.

That dart of panic found its target and exploded. I yanked back. His grip didn't tighten, but didn't give either. Firm as an iron shackle. This wasn't Grady but someone-something-using his body, and I had a good idea what that something was.

"Kristof Nast sent me."

Damn Kristof! This was why he hadn't told me who he was calling: I'd never have agreed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "There's been a misunderstanding. I don't talk to-"

"Strangers? A wise choice, but I'm hoping this time you'll make an exception."

Amusement sparkled in those beautiful eyes. Entrancing eyes.

"I've come to help you, Jaime."

"I've had my share of help from your kind."

He tipped his head, his gaze searching mine. "Ah, I see. A youthful indiscretion. The price seemed fair, didn't it? That's the way it is.

A demon's price always seems fair when you're blinded by the boon. Then you always end up paying more than you expect. But that's long past. You've received your boon. You've paid the price. An unpleasant learning experience, but it certainly could have been worse."

"Whatever bargain you're offering-"

"My dear child, I do not barter like a common merchant. Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head. He released my arm.

"I am Aratron."

Seeing my blank look, he gave a rich, warm laugh. "Does no one educate their children in demonology these days? For centuries, I had only to speak my name and even your kind would prostrate themselves before me, promise me their gold, their wives, their firstborn child in return for but a speck of my knowledge. Today? Bewilderment dulled by apathy. Not nearly as gratifying."

"Sorry."

He laughed again. "Eve knew who I was. Properly respectful, even."

He walked to a bench and waved for me to sit beside him. When I resisted, his eyes sparkled. "I'm not going to gobble you up or incinerate you in a ball of white-hot flame. The last, while quite spectacular, doesn't promote good relations with mortals."

I perched at the far end of the bench.

"May I hope you at least know what a eudemon is?" he asked.

"Oh, yes." I said, a little too enthusiastically. "There are two kinds of demons. Cacodemons are the ones we can summon and make deals with. The chaos demons. The same kind that father half-demons like Eve. But eudemons…"

I drummed my fingers against my thigh, as if I was back in school again, proudly volunteering the answer only to get halfway through and realize that's all I had. "Can't say I know much about eudemons. Other than they aren't cacodemons. We can't usually summon them. They don't father children…"

"To most supernatural mortals, that's all that's important. It's almost impossible to summon us. We can't create you. We are, you might say, neutral. Indifferent even. To both your joys and your suffering. You do not interest us… except in the most academic way."

"And that's what you are. A eudemon."

"That's what Aratron is, a fact you can easily confirm with a call to Robert Vasic. And I claim to be Aratron. But whether I truly am is not so easily established. In fact, I daresay, it cannot be established all. You know, from my voice, from my touch, from my eyes, that I am no low-ranking demon. These things I cannot fake and even one unschooled in demonology knows the marks of a demon of power. But could I not be a cacodemon such as Baal or Balam or Lucifer? Were I one of them, would it not be wise to come in the guise of a eudemon like Aratron?"

"I guess so…"

"You look at me as if I'm mad. Why raise such possibilities? Because, child, if I do not, you will-now or after you've given the matter due consideration. I cannot prove that I am who I claim to be. You can call on Kristof, but you do not trust him. You trust Eve but she is, conveniently, unavailable. What you can do, though, is consider whether Kristof would do such a thing, not to you, but to her. Eve is very protective of her friends. Given their relationship, would he introduce one to a cacodemon?"