I released my Sight again. My stomach twisted on itself, a burning, bitter feeling. "Shiela," I said quietly. "Stars and stones, it's all but your real name, isn't it? Lasciel."

"It's close," Shiela agreed quietly.

"Harry?" Butters whispered. His eyes were very wide. "Who are you talking to?"

"Shut up a minute, Butters," I said, staring at her. She regarded me quietly, her eyes now steady on mine. "That's what Billy was talking about. Bock started looking awfully odd when I was speaking to you at the bookstore. And you never interacted with anyone else. Never opened any doors in the store. Didn't pick up the book when I was looking for it." I glanced down at my hand, where she'd written her number in permanent ink. It was now gone. "Illusions," I said.

"Yes," she said calmly. "Some of appearance only. Some of seeming."

"Why?"

"To help you," she said. "I told you that I could not make open contact with your conscious mind. That is why I created Shiela." She gestured down at herself. "I wanted to help you, but I couldn't do it directly. So I tried to do it this way."

"So you lied to me," I said.

She arched a brow. "I had little choice in the matter."

"What about after you made contact with me?" I said, and my voice was bitter too. "I used the Hellfire and you came to me in a dream."

"That was after you met Shiela, if you will recall," she said.

"But you didn't need Shiela anymore."

"No," she said. "I didn't. But I found that I…" She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. "That I enjoyed being Shiela. That I enjoyed interacting with you as one person to another. Without being regarded with fear and suspicion. I know that you understand what it is like. You've felt it often enough in your own life."

"But oddly enough," I said, "I haven't gone off and pretended to be someone else to gain another's trust."

"You've felt that isolation for less than two score years, my host. I've lived with it for millennia."

"Yeah? How long were you planning on stringing me along?"

Her soft mouth turned into a firm line. "I was going to tell you once the night's business was done—assuming you lived through it."

"Sure you were," I said.

"I told you," she said. "I didn't want it to become a distraction for you."

I barked out a harsh little laugh. "And why should I believe that?"

"Because your death would mean the death of this part of me," she said, gesturing down at herself again. "The thought shadow of Lasciel would not survive your death—and the true Lasciel, my true self, would remain trapped for who knows how long. You have no idea of what it is to be trapped without sound, sight, or senses, waiting for someone to bring you forth from oblivion."

I stared hard at her. "I don't believe you."