Adam stared at his phone a long time, deep in thought, long after the coffee was done brewing. It looked like he was going to be traveling to Iowa sometime soon. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Gina that, and perhaps more importantly, Joey. Gina knew what Adam did for a living; she'd understand that there were times when he had no choice but to leave, if only for a little while, but Joey was another matter. The boy was finally starting to trust Adam and look up to him as the father figure he'd never had, but Adam had no choice. He was still a Federal Agent, and more importantly, he was Rhys' friend. They'd just have to understand.

He didn't need to worry for too long all along. The early call had disturbed Gina enough that, even after Adam had left the bed and the room, she couldn't fall back to sleep. Only one person called at such an ungodly hour, after all. She padded into the kitchen on bare feet, sleepy hands pulling a much loved Yankees sweater on over her pajamas to ward off the very early morning chill. Yawning briefly, she leaned over to kiss the curve of Adam's shoulder, taking up a lean against the counter. "What did he want?" she asked, no attempt to beat around the bush. "Is he okay' Is Nat okay?"

Adam was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Gina's voice, uncertain just how long he'd been standing there deep in thought, waiting for the coffee to brew. "Is he ever okay?" he thought to himself, in regard to Gina's question, though when he turned to answer her, he forced a reassuring smile and leaned close to brush a fond kiss against her forehead. "Yeah, he's fine. They're both fine," he corrected himself, including Nat in the equation. "Sorry I woke you." He reached up to open the cupboard and pull out a mug, knowing he wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight. Or rather, this morning.

"You didn't wake me, he did," she assured him, her smile loving if a little weary in answer to the kiss he touched to her forehead. "Set the coffee on an IV line while I meditate on the best way to punish Rhys without actually hurting him." Her thumb stroked gently down his cheek as she looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

He set the mug on the counter as he turned to face her again, looking down at her as she stroked his cheek. No matter what he told her, she was going to see right through him - she always did. "He's sending me on a wild goose chase," he told her, though that wasn't entirely true. He'd told Gina about what had happened in Europe, though he'd tried to spare her the grimmer details. She'd known Rhys nearly as long as he had, and she knew enough about his past to make a pretty good guess. "He wants me to pull the coroner's report from his mother's death." He thought he might as well be honest; she was going to find out one way or another anyway.

Of course she could see through him - being in such close contact with a Federal Agent was perfect practice for the career she was slowly but surely working her way toward, after all. If she could tell when Adam was lying to her, she was unlikely to have the wool pulled over her eyes by any prospective client. Stifling a fresh yawn, Gina eyed her lover thoughtfully. "Why?" she asked, knowing that there were some things he wouldn't tell her, and understanding the reasons behind it. "That case has been closed for twenty years."

"Because a demon told him his sister is still alive," Adam replied, matter-of-factly. "The demon that killed his mother." He drew a heavy sigh. Even when it was over, it wasn't really over, and he wouldn't if it ever would be. "It's probably nothing," he said, turning to pour himself a cup of coffee, leaving the obvious unsaid: But what if it isn't"

"Oh." It really was remarkable how much that single syllable could convey at any given moment. In this moment, it was understanding, both of what Adam had told her, and of why Rhys would need his friend to look at that file in the first place. She waited while he poured himself some coffee, gently hustling him along a little way to get to the pot herself. "I guess it's best to know one way or the other," she said quietly. "Can't help hoping the demon was lying, though."

"It's bad either way," he agreed, shuffling aside so she could pour herself a cup. Adam wondered which fate was worse. If she was dead, at least there was closure there. The alternative was probably worse. "I never really looked into it before. I never saw the need. It happened so long ago, and the case was closed. It was all over the papers." Though it might not have seemed like a big story at the time, when something that bizarre happened in Small Town America, it was bound to grab the attention of the press who'd splattered it all over the news for weeks.

"The thing is..." he continued, pausing a moment to take a sip of his coffee and a lean against the cupboards. "If the demon was telling the truth and his sister is still alive..." Adam trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. She was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

"Then she needs to be found," Gina finished the sentence for him. She may not like the way Rhys' world now fully overlapped her own, but she understood perhaps better than even Natalya how insidious doubts could be. She had lived through it once with John; at least Adam was not so deeply involved with the things that went bump in the night. She twisted to face him, one hand wrapped about her coffee cup, the other reaching to cover his. "May I give you some advice?"

"If you're gonna tell me not to get too emotionally involved, it's too late." It had been too late years ago when he was still a kid himself, and he and Rhys had become blood brothers. He would hear her out, of course. Gina had never given him bad advice, though he'd already made up his mind to help Rhys however he could. He owed him that much.

Her lips quirked into a half-smile, wry and more than a little sardonic. "Credit me with a little intelligence, sweetheart, even if it is still the middle of the night," she drawled, rolling her eyes at him. "I'm not that dull. No, what I'd suggest would be ....Whatever you find out, make sure you tell him face to face. Not over the phone, or in an email. I know he's got Natalya, but she's never seen him when he's dealing with stuff. If he decides to go AWOL over it, it's best he does it here, in America. Not in Europe."

"Gina," he started, deadly serious. "If his sister is still alive, there's no telling where she might be or what may have happened to her. I'm not even sure where we'd start. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack." Or worse. "We're gonna need more than detective skills to figure this one out." If. It was a big if, but something they had to consider if Rhys was going to have any closure.

"You're getting ahead of yourself," she told him gently. "We can't make these decisions in any case, but this is why I think Rhys should be here when you tell him whatever there is to know. Just in case these things have to be talked about."

"I'm not sure where they are right now, but he said they're on their way to Glastonbury. He said he'd call when they get there." He took another swallow of his coffee, silently agreeing this wasn't the kind of thing he could or should share over the phone. Whatever Adam found out wasn't going to be good news, either way. "I have to go to Iowa," he continued, though she probably knew that already.

"Let's just take this one step at a time," Gina began, cut off when he added his next step. She sighed regretfully, nodding. "I figured you'd probably head off to handle this," she said quietly. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Oh, because extravagant is my middle name, isn't it?" she laughed back at him, rolling her eyes at his teasing. "Don't go anywhere without my twinset and vintage pearls, or my Louis Vuitton." Poking at his side for the tease, she grinned, curling her arms about his waist as she leaned into him. "Simple and silver was what I was thinking, if that helps with your poor little pocket woes."

In truth he could afford just about anything she wanted, within reason anyway, but he hadn't really shared his financial situation with her, other than the fact that he was comfortable and secure and living within his means. He wasn't rich by any means, but he wasn't hurting either. The government paid him well for what he did. He'd already sublet his apartment and been granted a transfer to New York. There was still the question of his uncle's property in Flagstaff, but that was a matter that needed discussing with Rhys more than Gina. "Isn't it?" he teased back, chuckling a little at her poking. "Diamond or something else?" he asked as he cuddled her close, trying to get some kind of idea of what she'd like without having to resort to going through her jewelry box.

"I'm a classical kind of girl," she told him affectionately. "I'm pretty sure you know me well enough to be able to surprise me with confidence by now. I can pick up half the check as well, if you insist on giving me an engagement ring." No, Gina didn't know the extent of Adam's bank account - she had tendency to judge everyone by her own financial level, which could be a struggle at times with a small boy to support as well as law school fees.

"Don't be ridiculous. I can afford to pay for an engagement ring," he insisted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He frowned a little, wondering just when he should fill her in on his financial situation. There was no time like the present, and finding time alone wasn't that easy with an active boy running around the house. He didn't flaunt his earnings by driving a fancy car or wearing designer clothes. He was far too practical for that, but that didn't mean he was poor either. He was just frugal. It came with his upbringing. She didn't have to tell him how much of a struggle it was to raise a kid on her own. He knew because he'd been that kid once. "The truth is, I'm not hurting for money. You don't have to worry about money anymore, Gina. I make more than enough to support us."

Her brow rose as he spoke, wondering just what he meant by "not hurting for money". Training in law as she was, her mind leapt to one unsettling thought straightaway. "Please tell me I'm not claiming government support fraudulently. Because if you're really that comfortable, I have to stop that claim before we get married, before we make the one family household thing official."

He chuckled a little at her worries. "You know, I've been meaning to tell you," he started, leaning back to brush her hair back from her face. "I was really sent here to investigate claims of single moms cheating the system to get extra money to feed their kids." From the look on his face, he was obviously teasing. "You won't need it once we're married," he confirmed, turning serious.

She bit her lip, wondering now how much of her school fees she was going to be able to pay herself, without asking either him or the government for help with that, too. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked him softly, curious but not upset. She could understand his reticence to share this information, but they had been together for over a year.

He shrugged his shoulders, not thinking it was all that important really. It was only money, after all. What was important was how they felt about each other. "I thought you knew, and I didn't want it to weigh your decision to be with me one way or the other. It's only money, Gina. I'm not rich, but I'm not hurting either, and I don't have to claim Rhys as a dependent anymore." The last part was meant as a joke, which he hoped would somewhat soothe her wounded pride. "I want to take care of you and Joey. If you want to wait until you've passed the Bar, I'm fine with that." I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer.

His mention of Rhys made her laugh softly, aware that the former drifter without a fixed abode or regular job was now one of the richest men either of them was ever likely to meet. But, like Rhys, the money didn't matter to Gina. "Adam, I'd love you if you were so dirt poor, you had to live on the stoop," she told him gently. "If you're happy to support us a little longer until I pass the Bar and get a decent paying job, then I'm not going to argue with you. I will pay you back everything you lay out on my behalf, though."

He frowned, sighing softly and wishing this wasn't an issue. It really wasn't that important, at least, not to him. While he understood her sense of pride and the necessity to take care of herself, to him, it wasn't an issue. Not anymore. But how to make her understand that' "Gina," he started, just as gently back. "If we're going to be married, then there is no your money or my money. It's our money. We're in this together."

Her smile was vaguely apologetic as he laid this out for her, knowing where he was coming from, but aware of her own shortcomings in that department. "I understand the concept," she assured him, "but, uh ....well, I've been doing this on my own for years. It's gonna take a while to get used to not having to count every cent and not needing to decide between replacing my shoes and making sure Joey can go to his soccer summer camp." She held his gaze for a long moment. "That's not a no, Adam. I'm just gonna need some time to get used to not having to manage everything by myself."

"I know. I understand, believe me," he replied, pressing another kiss to her cheek. "Just trust me, all right' I want to take care of you and Joey. I'm not gonna leave you high and dry. I love you." He knew what had happened to John didn't help matters, but he was in a position to provide for them, even if something did happen to him, God forbid. He frowned a little thoughtfully, wondering how much she really knew about him and his past. He was a mostly closed book and unless Rhys had blabbed, she might not know much about him at all, other than what he'd already told her. It just hadn't seemed important before. "I was raised by a single mom. When she died, I went to live with my uncle, so I do understand."

She relaxed as he spoke, explaining a little something about his past. She had never pushed to know his background; to her, the past was the past, and talking about it never made anything better. "I do trust you," she promised him faithfully. "Really, I do. Like I said, it's just gonna take a little time, that's all. I want to be married to you, I want you to be Joey's dad in every way you can be. I want us to be a family, and part of that is sharing responsibility for everything. Joint bank accounts, your name on the lease to whichever house we decide to live in, everything. I can handle it. I promise."

"I know you can," he assured her with a warm smile. "You're an amazing woman, Gina, and I can't wait to share my life with you. Legally or otherwise," he added with a smirk and a teasing twinkle in his eyes. "We have lots of time to talk about these things later. What's important is that we're together." He tipped her chin toward him to reinforce that with a kiss, almost wishing they had time to crawl back into bed for a little while, though he wasn't sleepy.

His kiss found laughing lips that molded to his without reserve, both of them locked in a tender moment that did, unfortunately, have an expiration date of roughly two seconds. "Aww, man ....do you have to get all lovey-dovey before breakfast?" a young voice complained behind Gina, announcing the arrival of Joey in his pajamas, frowning in disapproval at his mother and prospective father.

"Uh oh," Adam started with a smirk at his partner in crime who was busily wolfing down a bowl of Cheerios like it was his last meal on Earth. "She's onto us, Joey. We're in trouble now!"

"Not if you get her chocolate and get all kissy when she comes in," the nine-year-old informed him with the wisdom of one who knew his mother's weaknesses and was not above throwing Adam right into the bear's claws to get his treat.

"Hmm, you're right. Maybe a chocolate milkshake," Adam replied, not missing a beat. He had no intentions of stealing Gina's affection for her son or her time, but rather sharing it, knowing his place and knowing that Joey would and should always come first. "How's soccer going anyway' Have you scored any goals lately?" he asked as he spread some jam on his toast.

"We keep losing," Joey shrugged, tilting his bowl up to drink what was left of his milk. "We're pretty good in attack, but our defense is crap."

Gina's head snapped up, her eyes turning to her son. "Your defense is what, now?" she asked him pointedly, and he blushed, setting his bowl down.

"Bad," the boy corrected himself. "Our defense is bad." He waited until she looked away, and mouthed "crap" to Adam with a grin.

Adam smirked back at the boy's tiny bit of rebellion, letting it be their secret, though in truth, he guessed Gina knew exactly what was going on, even if she pretended not to. "You'll get better with practice," he assured the boy, though he knew how frustrating it could be to part of a losing team. Losing, Adam thought, built more character in a person than winning, but he wasn't about to say that. Besides, no one wanted to lose all the time. "The important thing is that you enjoy playing. You'll win eventually." And when you do, it will be all the more glorious, he thought.

"It's just practise tonight," Joey informed him. "Coach says I gotta get better at passing, but I don't see why. Matt never scores if you pass to him, he just kicks it around a bit and gets tackled. Why shouldn't I keep the ball if I'm the only one who scores with it?"

How to answer that question, Adam thought. He could give him the lecture about there being no I in team, but that would more than likely fall on deaf ears and sound kind of preachy. He decided to take a different tack. "Because it's about teamwork, and if you're the only one with the ball, how will anyone else learn to score?" It wasn't the best answer to the question, but almost said the same thing just in a different way. "It's not just about scoring, Joey. You have to learn to pass, too, if you want to be an all-around good player. Tell you what....If you get finished with your homework in time, maybe we can practice a little passing in the yard."

"Really' Awesome!" Joey lit up at that suggestion, always happy to be able to claim a little of Adam's time just for himself. Gina was right about him being ready to have a father, so long as that father was Adam. The two had bonded over the last months, growing closer each time they shared something either alone, or with Gina herself.

She smiled at them both, washing down the last of her toast with her coffee. "Finally, someone who can keep up with you at sport, huh?" she teased her son, reaching over to wipe a smear from the corner of his mouth. "C'mon, teeth, clothes, strip your bed. Time to get this party moving."

Adam was still working on his breakfast, having delayed finishing so he could remain behind and clean up while the other two got ready. His work hours were more flexible than either of theirs, and he was going to be spending most of his morning making travel plans over the phone and arranging for a few days away, which included explaining things to his superior. "I'm driving!" he announced, deciding some of his man to man talk with Joey couldn't wait til later.

Before Gina could ask if he was sure about that, Joey had let out a whoop of a cheer. "Awesome!" Scrambling up from the table, the nine-year-old sped from the kitchen, thumping up the stairs to do exactly as he had been told to. Apparently being seen to be dropped off from Adam's car was a big deal.

Gina rolled her eyes, snorting with laughter. "You know, I get the impression sometimes that he might be a little bit ashamed of me."

"He's not ashamed of you, Gina. He just doesn't like to get teased," Adam explained, knowing kids that age could be cruel, no matter who you were or what you did. Getting dropped off at school by your mother was the kiss of death to an almost ten-year-old. "Besides, I wanna talk to him. Let him know I'm going away for a few days." Adam started on his eggs, making short work of them, almost as quickly as Joey had inhaled his cereal.

"I know," she nodded. "But he's just gonna have to put up with it for a few more years. I'm not letting him make his own way to and from school until I'm sure he can handle himself without inviting trouble." She moved to pick up her plate and cup, stacking them with Joey's bowl. "I thought maybe you'd wanna tell him as soon as you could. Thank you."

It was part of Adam's job and something Gina and Joey were just going to have to get used to. Trust would come in time, and they'd realize no matter how often he went away or for how long, he'd always be back. "Sorry, I just can't let Rhys down on this one," he told her, knowing she understood.

"Sweetheart, I know," she assured him. "And I promise you, Joey will understand, too. He won't like it, but he'll understand. He knows you're not going to just up and leave us, okay' Try not to worry about it so much."

"I'm not, I just..." Adam frowned, as he pushed around what remained of the eggs on his plate with a slice of toast. "I'm a little worried about what I'm going to find there," he admitted finally. Or maybe he was more worried about how he was going to tell Rhys about it. Whatever he found, it was bound to be unpleasant at best.

"Well, Joey doesn't need to know the details," she offered, though she knew he already knew that. "And worrying about what you might or might not find isn't going to do you any good. You have a task in front of you, one that is relatively simple to complete. You'll know in a couple of days if there's something to worry about or not. Until then, it's just a waste of energy, baby."

"Yeah," Adam replied, knowing she was right, but there was one thing she was missing that he needed to make clear. "I just thought we'd put all that behind us. I thought this whole nightmare was over," he admitted. He'd only told her a little of what had happened in France, and very little of his own experiences with the world of the supernatural. Growing up around a Navajo Shaman, he was well acquainted with the Things that Go Bump in the Night. "I was kind of hoping the lid was permanently closed on this Pandora's Box."

Gina stilled in the act of setting her dishes in the sink of soak, her expression quietly resigned to the continuing darkness so few people knew of in their world. "Adam, you closed the gates to Hell," she said quietly. "You didn't banish all demons, and no one can turn back the clock and undo what?s already been done. It's a loose end that has to be looked at at some point. Rhys needs that closure, and you do, too."

Centerville, Iowa...

It had taken Adam all day, but he'd finally found what he'd been looking for. Sort of. The file had been buried in a box, which had been buried behind and beneath other boxes in the basement of the Centerville Police Department - a cold, dank place that reeked of mold and mildew and was covered in a fine layer of dust and cobwebs.

The flight to Des Moines had been uneventful - short and boring even. From there, he'd driven the remaining ninety miles or so to Mystic - a small town out in the middle of nowhere with a population that didn't even reach five hundred. It was quite possibly the smallest town Adam had ever visited. It was so small, in fact, that it didn't even have its own police or fire station. The closest town of Centerville, about six miles away, served that purpose, and it was to the Centerville Police Department that Adam had next headed.

The population of Centerville was a little more reasonable at just over five thousand, but still nowhere near what Adam was accustomed to. He thought that with such a small population as that, it shouldn't be too hard finding someone who remembered what had happened that tragic Halloween night some twenty-five years ago.

The Centerville Police Station itself was about the size of a small library and housed both the sheriff's office and a small jail, as well as the police department. When he'd inquired about the archives, he'd been led to the basement, and after a few hours of searching, it was there he'd found what he'd been looking for.

Case No. A-025, the file stated, the word CLOSED stamped in big bright red letters across the front of the manila folder. Adam carefully flipped open the folder and sifted through the papers, some yellow and fading, annoyed that more care had not been taken with the file. It didn't take long for him to realize that what he was looking for wasn't there. There was no coroner's report, no mention of the details of Rhys' mother's death at all, except in passing. The most Adam could get from the file was a few names, but not much more that they didn't know already.

There had been no witnesses other than Rhys, though Adam guessed that anyone who'd been at the crime scene would be able to answer his questions. He closed the folder after a few minutes and made his way back up the stairs. A lot of questions still remained, but at least, he had a place to start.

The house where Rhys had spent the first part of his childhood was exactly as Sheriff Long had said - abandoned. Boarded up and abandoned, to be precise. Adam parked the rental car a few doors down so as not to look too conspicuous. The street was a fairly quiet one, and at this time of day, most people were away at work or school and hopefully wouldn't take much notice. It was a pretty bleak looking house, some of the windows boarded up, while others were still intact. He went around to the back, expecting to find the door padlocked, but instead, he only found it locked from the inside. It was almost too easy, but if there was a rumor the house was haunted, it was safe to assume, most people gave the house a wide berth.

Adam remembered what Rhys had told him of his parents' deaths that Halloween night back in 1988. It had happened in his parents' upstairs bedroom, just down the hall from his own. Adam managed to get the back door open with little trouble, flicking on a flashlight to light a path through the wreckage of what had once been an ordinary family home. It wasn't a big house by any means, but Rhys' parents hadn't had a lot of money. His father had been employed as an auto mechanic, and his mother had worked as a waitress, at least, until the final months of her pregnancy, when she'd been awaiting the birth of her second child, a daughter. The pregnancy hadn't been an easy one for her, and the fact that her only son had been struggling with nightmares and some sort of emotional imbalance had made it only that much more difficult.

Adam went over what he knew of that night in his head as he made his way through the small, dilapidated house. It was quiet, almost too quiet - no sound of water dripping or electrical hum of appliances, as the utilities had most likely been shut off long ago. A faint shaft of sunlight tried to force its way in through a cloudy pane of glass illuminating an array of dust motes that danced like tiny fairies in the weak light, but as far as Adam could tell, it was the only movement. He didn't even hear the squeak of mice or the flutter of birds in the rafters. The only sound he heard was that of his own even breathing and the creak of floorboards beneath his feet as he made his way through the house and up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the bedrooms.

The place was in such a state of disrepair he couldn't imagine why anyone would be opposed to tearing it down. The land had to be worth more than the building. It didn't make much sense from a financial point of view, but Adam had a feeling there was more going on here than met the eye. Until he found out who owned the building, he couldn't even hazard a guess why it was still there.

The second floor wasn't in much better shape than the first, and it was nearly impossible to imagine what the place must have looked like when it had been occupied. As far as Adam could tell, there were three rooms on the second floor that ran off a hallway, all of them presumably bedrooms. It wasn't too hard to figure out which was the master bedroom, as it was most likely the largest of the three rooms and located at the end of the hallway to the front of the house. It was that room which was Adam's destination and the place where Rhys' parents had met their deaths.

Adam almost dreaded what he was about to do. He knew he was doing it without Rhys' permission or knowledge. He'd only been asked to get a copy of the coroner's report, which presumably would have gone into greater detail regarding the cause of his mother's death, but simple detective work had failed to turn up anything useful, and he'd decided to take matters into his own hands. It was a simple enough spell to work, as far as Adam was concerned. It wasn't like the one he'd worked in Gavarnie. He wasn't going to be tangling with any demons. All he wanted to do was open a window to the past and witness for himself what had happened here. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. If Rhys' sister had survived, then one of two things had to have happened, and neither was very pleasant to consider.

The first thing Adam did after clearing a space on the floor was to lay down a ring of salt that would serve as a protective barrier against demons or any creature of an evil nature. He lit three white candles and set them in front of him on the floor inside the circle in the shape of a triangle. Within the triangle, he placed a piece of amethyst, which would help connect him to the past. No other items were needed to work the spell, as it was mostly a matter of will and the summoning of past energies that were part of his surroundings. He sat cross-legged in the lotus position within that circle, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath, opening his inner eye to those who would lead him on his spirit quest. "I ask that you show me the past," he asked them humbly. "Show me the evil that haunts this place."

There was nothing but silence for several long minutes, the only sound his own deep, even breathing. He could almost hear the regular cadence of his own heartbeat, like a low drumbeat driving his meditative state deeper still. He felt a cold chill start at the base of his spine and spread upwards, and he opened his eyes to focus his vision on the stone that lay within the triangle of pure flame. The flames flickered briefly, as if they had taken on a life of their own, and then he felt the wind in his hair where there was no wind and then felt a tugging sensation, as if he was being dragged through a tunnel against his own will. The scene opened up in front of him, like a film on a life-size movie screen. His presence was unknown to those there, as he was only observing the past. There was nothing he could do to interact with them or change what had happened.

He watched mutely as what Rhys had witnessed as a boy of nine played out in front of him. He saw the inky blackness of Patrick Bristol's eyes, the sneer on his face when he wrapped his own fingers around his wife's slender throat. There was no mistaking that the man was possessed. Even twenty-five years later, Adam could almost feel the evil that permeated the place and the tragedies that had taken place here. He watched as the woman screamed in horror, her face turning an unhealthy shade of crimson, feet dangling helplessly, before the man dropped her limp body to the floor, like a discarded ragdoll. The demon turned to face the boy, who was holding a handgun in his trembling hands at the man who he thought was his father. Just as the older Rhys had told Adam, he watched as the demon advanced and the boy pulled the trigger, emptying the cartridges into his own father's chest with a sickening thud, driving him backwards onto the floor. But this was not what Adam had come to see. He knew all this already. It was what came after that surprised and sickened him to the core of his being.

He watched as the boy's face went deathly pale, and the gun fell from his hands. For a moment, he looked as though he was going to be sick, but then he fell heavily onto the floor, all conscious thought leaving him. He was spared what came next, spared the blood and the gore. The demon that had hold of his father was not dead, though the man's body was riddled with so many bullets, there was no chance for survival. Adam forced himself to watch, to bear witness, as the demon cut the child from the woman's body, spilling her blood in a sickening pool of crimson that soaked and stained the otherwise pristine plush carpet. He then turned his attention to the boy, but as he crossed the room to finish the job, a wall of blinding white light appeared in front of him from which appeared the figure of a woman with long pale hair, a pair of feathery white wings spread out behind her. "The boy is not yours to take, demon. Be gone from this place before I smite thee."

The demon laughed, a sound that was guttural and inhuman, though it came from a human throat. "You think you can stop me, Guardian' I am the Destroyer. I will destroy you and all those who dare get in my way." Another demon appeared behind him, a woman with long dark hair and matching black eyes. She took the bloodied child in her arms and before the angel could stop her, disappeared into the ether, as if she had never been there at all. The demon known as the Destroyer laughed again. "You can have the boy, but the girl is ours. Pray we never meet again, Guardian, or it will mean your doom."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then it was as if the heavens burst wide open, a light so bright even Adam was forced to wince, blasting the place where the demon stood, but he was already gone, fled like a coward in the night. The light faded, the woman disappeared, and Adam was left alone with the wreckage before him. Three bodies lay still on the floor, but only one of them still lived - a boy of nine whose life would never be the same.

Adam heard the sound of sirens somewhere in the distance and a drumbeat he recognized as that of his own heart, and then a blow like a gust of wind forced him back to his own body and into the present.