Nigel took a draw on his coffin nail and exhaled—which made Jim realize they actually had something in common. Although given that they were both immortal, guess it wasn’t a bad habit anymore.

“Indeed, saving his life is the answer,” was the eventual reply.

“But I can’t leave him like this,” Jim said as Isaac let out a groan. “Even if he’ll live through it, it’s cruel.”

“You cannot wake him, however. You relate to humans through their souls. That is your conduit—the way you touch them when you interact with them. Right now, his mind is contaminated by her—if you open the door by disturbing him, she shall waltz right on your heels.”

Hardly the kind of assist he was looking to provide the enemy.

And yet as Jim stared at the thrashing man, he worried whether the experience would actually kill the sorry SOB. He looked as if someone were ripping his arms and legs off. “I’m not going to let him suffer like this.”

“Use the tools you have. There are many.”

Damn it, he should have brought Eddie and Adrian with him. “Tell me.”

“I cannot. I shouldn’t be here a’tall. If I provide too much guidance, I risk affecting the outcome and thus having the round disqualified—or worse.”

Down on the bed, Isaac let out a rippling scream.

“Shit, what do I do?”

When there was no answer, Jim looked over to the corner and saw nothing except a fading curl of smoke left by the archangel’s cigarette. His boss had disappeared the same way he’d arrived: quickly and in silence.

“Fucking hell, Nigel . . .”

Standing there all by his little lonesome, while his back screamed in alarm and Isaac suffered, Jim took out his phone and tried Eddie. Adrian. Eddie again. He was about to go back to the hotel and drag them out of bed—naked if he had to—when the solution came to him.

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

Bolting up off the pillows, Grier grabbed her chest and felt her heart pound against her palm as she woke on a gasp. With her free hand, she pushed her hair out of her face and looked around. Her room was all in shadow, nothing but the floating DVD logo on the TV screen shedding any light.

“Isaac?” she asked, her voice cracking.

No answer. And no footsteps coming up the stairs.

As disappointment slowed her heartbeat, she corrected herself: It was relief. Relief.

“Daniel?” she said softly. When her brother didn’t make himself known, she figured she’d come awake because her nerves were shot—

Grier froze. There was a man in her room. A huge man who was standing in front of the French doors, just outside the light of the TV. He was utterly still, like a photograph, and the only reason she knew he was there was the silhouette he cut through the ambient glow of the city.