(The following is about what happens after Rhys is questioned by Lindley and John picks him up from the bar and takes him to Riley's house, where he spends the night.)

It felt strange to be sleeping in Riley's bed without Riley beside me. I'd only slept there once. Had it really only been a few months ago' Somehow, it seemed like years. So much had happened in those few short months. Sometimes it seemed like too much to bear, so heavy a burden I felt like I would collapse under its weight.

The meeting with Lindley had gone from bad to worse. I don't know what I'd expected. Seeing the files on my parents and Jessie had rattled me, and then he'd gone for the kill. I had to admit the guy was good at his job, even though I hated him for it. I'd gone there hoping he'd listen to my side of things and keep an open mind, but he only seemed bent on my destruction. He'd dredged up the ghosts of those I'd worked so hard to put to rest, and I felt more hopeless than ever.

He was right about a couple of things. At least, I thought so at the time. If it wasn't for me, Riley wouldn't be in the hospital, and David wouldn't be dead. The body count surrounding me was rising, and I thought maybe Lindley was right. Maybe it was all my fault. If I had been him, I probably would have thought the same thing.

And then, there was the accusation that I was a coward. That had really pissed me off. Who the hell was he to judge me" He hadn't lived my life. He didn't know what I'd been through. What was I supposed to do' I was fighting a losing battle with an enemy who didn't follow the rules and had been all my life. Any self-confidence and bravado I might have been feeling disappeared after the meeting with Lindley.

I remembered what Orla and David had told us, but it seemed meaningless to me. We'd lost Patrick, and I'd almost lost Riley. Nothing else seemed to matter. The vodka deadened the pain for a little while, but it didn't last, and after a while, I'd decided to call John. John, at least, would understand.

I was so buried in self-pity, I hadn't even thought to ask John how things had fared in New York, if he'd been able to get in contact with the Seelie Queen. I didn't really have to ask. I trusted he was doing his part to the best of his ability, but what about me" What was my part' What was I supposed to be doing? I'd spent the last two weeks, and arguably most of my life, running from demons and there I was drowning my sorrows in a bottle of vodka and feeling sorry for myself. Everything I'd worked so hard for the last week at the monastery had been shattered in a matter of minutes. It wasn't Lindley's fault. It was mine.

Four vodkas and one chili cheeseburger later, and I was feeling pretty relaxed, despite the turmoil that I was feeling inside. I was so tired of feeling like a pawn in some demonic game of chess. Exhausted and drained, I collapsed in Riley's bed and finally surrendered myself to sleep. I'd grown to dread sleep. Sleep brought dreams and nightmares I didn't understand. I didn't want to dream. I just wanted to sleep — to lose myself to a dark, quiet, death-like oblivion — dreamless and peaceful. But that wasn't to be.

I heard her voice before I even saw her face, and my heart filled with love and longing. "Papa," she said, touching my cheek with her little girl's hand, so soft and small and gentle. "You can't give up. You have to fight."

She looked at me with her soft, round, doe eyes, so innocent and pure, so much like Riley's it wrenched my heart. "If you give up, I'll never be born, and neither will Paddy or Johnny."

Tears filled her eyes, and I felt them mirrored in my own. "Mama will die, and the world will be destroyed. You can't give up, Papa. Please don't give up."

I took her in my arms and held her close. She felt warm and soft in my arms, as fragrant as a summer's day, and I buried my face in her soft, dark hair. "I won't, Emmy," I reassured her, gently stroking her hair. "I promise."

She giggled as she lifted her head from my shoulder, her eyes dancing with life. "I know why Mama likes your beard. It tickles." And then she was gone, like she'd never been there at all.

I awoke with a start, the scent of her still lingering in the air, like it hadn't been a dream at all. Like she'd been right there. I remembered her, my daughter. The daughter of my future. Mine and Riley's. Emily. My Emily. In that moment, I knew what I had to do. Whether she had a been a dream or a vision, I never could be sure, but she had done what others had failed to do. She had given me the will to survive.

I knew in that moment that John was right. It didn't matter what had gone before. The past didn't matter. It was the future we were fighting for, and I wasn't going down without a fight. There was too much at stake. There was the promise of a future with Riley and a life without demons, and I wanted it so badly it was like an aching hole in my heart.

If it was a war they wanted, it was a war they'd get, but first, I had to find a way to convince Lindley they were real, and I could only think of one way to prove I was telling the truth. John wasn't going to like it, but I didn't see any other way. Seeing, as they say, is believing. If we couldn't bring Lindley to the demons, then we'd bring the demons to him.