There were enough containers of Morton salt to deice a highway. Countless bottles of hydrogen peroxide and witch hazel. Vinegar by the gallon. Lemons. Fresh sage packed in see-through boxes.

And four huge cans of Dinty Moore beef stew?

“What the hell,” Jim asked, “are we going to do with all this?”

“Plenty.”

It took them about fifteen minutes to get back out to Jim’s place, and the silence was a little less tense. As they pulled up to the garage, Dog’s face parted the curtains at the big window.

“You need the stuff to come up?” Jim asked as everybody got out.

“Just one bag, and I’ll get it.”

Jim hit the stairs with his keys in his hand, and the second he unlocked the door, Dog was all about the OMG-you’re-backs, running around in circles on the landing with his tail going propeller.

When Jim glanced down over his shoulder, he frowned and patted the dog absently. On the driveway below, Eddie and Adrian were standing close together and Eddie was shaking his head and talking as Adrian focused on a point by the guy’s left ear—like he’d heard it all before and hadn’t been interested the first time.

Eventually, Eddie grabbed the guy’s neck and forced some eye contact. Adrian’s lips moved briefly and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut.

After they embraced for a quick moment, Adrian roared off on his Harley.

With a curse, Eddie grabbed a bag from the truck bed and clomped up the stairs. “Your stove work?” the guy asked as he came inside and Dog circled and wagged at his feet.

“Yup.”

Ten minutes later he and Eddie were sitting down to two huge bowls of stew—which explained the Dinty Moore.

“Haven’t had this for years,” Jim said as he spooned up.

“Got to feed yourself.”

“What’d you say to Adrian?”

“None of your business.”

Jim shook his head. “Sorry, wrong answer. I’m part of this team, and I think considering the amount of shit you two know about me, it’s time to start returning the fucking favor.”

Eddie smiled tightly. “It’s a marvel the pair of you don’t get along better.”

“Maybe we would if you guys would talk to me.”

The long quiet that followed went unbroken until Eddie put his bowl down so Dog could go to work with what had been left.

“There are three things I know about Adrian,” the guy said. “One, he will always do exactly what he wants, when he wants to. There’s no chance of reasoning with him or changing his mind. Two, he will fight until he cannot stand for something he believes in. And three, fallen angels don’t last forever.”

Jim eased back in his chair. “I wondered about that.”

“Yeah, we’re not infinite—just relatively so. And that can’t be ignored when it comes to him.”

“Why?”