“Get him into the house,” the one with that rope-thick braid said. “He’ll be safe there.”

Right, time to cut in, boys: “Hi, my name is Isaac. This is Lefty . . . and Bob.” He lifted his guns accordingly to make the introductions. “And none of us take orders well anymore.”

Jim’s eyes burned as they shifted over. “Listen to me, Isaac . . . get in the house . . . get in the fucking house and stay there. No matter what you see or hear—do not leave. We clear?”

From out of nowhere, the guy pulled a knife that made no sense. Damn thing was made of glass . . . ? What the—

A low whistle started to hum through the air, and Isaac glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the sound. It was the kind of thing that had to be just the wind. . . . There was no other explanation for it. And yet he didn’t feel any breeze on his skin.

“Get in the house if you want to live,” someone said.

Jim grabbed his arm. “You can’t fight this enemy, but I can. If you’re inside there, you’ll be safe—and you can protect that woman. Keep her with you and keep her safe.”

Well, that was one order he could follow—

All at once, Grier’s house seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if it had been hit with red floodlights from the foundation up. As his eyes struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, a buzzing on the back of his neck grew so intense he worried his head was going to play 7-Up and pop off his spine.

Isaac didn’t stick around.

He tore across the backyard as the unholy wind got louder and louder, praying he got inside and to Grier in time.

Grier hated fighting with her father. Absolutely despised it.

Flipping her omelet in the pan, she centered the thing and then stared at the cell phone she’d just tossed across the island.

Their first call had taken place about an hour after he’d left, and he’d done the dialing. Naturally, he’d discovered her little sleight-of-hand trick and that had led to all sorts of trouble—none of which had been resolved, because she wasn’t giving the stuff back and he wasn’t taking no for an answer and they’d had to cover that rocky ground in code because God knew who was listening.

After going around and around for a while like boxers in a ring, they’d taken a time-out; she’d tried to work while her father had gone into that shadowy world of his.

Although she was just guessing at that part. It wasn’t as if he told her anything concrete.

Still.

Like always.