Thank God, she thought to herself as she hit the power button. “I wish I could give you some of this. I loved when we could have coffee together.”

It smells good.

She usually sought him out with her eyes whenever he appeared, but not this morning. She really couldn’t face him, and not because she’d hooked up with someone. Well, the sex was part of it. The real driver, though, was that reckless burn; it was just too close to what had destroyed him.

Yeah, you and I are the same. We got it from Dad.

“You know, you never talk about your death,” she said as the Krups machine burbled and hissed.

His voice got hard. What’s done is done, and that score needs to be settled between other people.

“Score?” When he said nothing more, she gritted her teeth. “Why won’t you ever answer anything? I’ve got a list as long as my arm of things I want to know, but all you do is deflect or evade.”

The further silence had her glaring over her shoulder: Daniel was leaning against the stainless-steel refrigerator, his translucent form throwing no reflection in the buffed finish. His blue eyes, the ones that were an identical color to her own, were staring at the floor.

“I don’t understand why you’re here,” she said. “Especially if we can’t really talk about the things that matter. Like how you died and—”

This is about your life, Grier. Not mine.

“Then why did you tell me to take that soldier home,” she groused.

Now Daniel smiled. Because you like him. And I think he’s going to be good for you.

She was not sure about that at all. She was feeling shattered already, and she’d known him for only a day. “Do you know what he’s done? Who he’s trying to get away from?”

Her brother’s frown was not encouraging. That I’m not talking about. But I can tell you he’s not going to hurt you.

God, she was tired of being surrounded by men who had duct tape over their mouths.

“Will I see him again?”

Daniel started to fade away, which was what he did whenever she put him on the spot about something.

“Daniel,” she said sharply. “Stop running out on me—”

When all she got back was a clear shot at the refrigerator door, she looked up at the ceiling and cursed. She never had any control over when he showed up or how long he stayed. And she had no idea where he was when he wasn’t haunting her.

Did he hang out at the undead’s equivalent of a Starbucks?

Speaking of coffee . . .

Determined to follow through on something, anything, she got a mug and the sugar bowl and went to town on the hot and steamy—all the while wondering whether caffeine was a good idea given her nerves.