A window covered the far wall. Beyond it was a desert dotted with boxy pyramids. An illusion, I assumed, but a nice one nonetheless. If the people who ran that psych hospital had given such thought to their patients’ surroundings, I doubt the haunters would have found them such easy pickings.

“Hello?” I called.

No one answered.

As I turned to look for a door, something moved at the base of the window. I peered around the divan. On the other side, huddled by the window, sat a woman, her back to me. A flowing, silvery robe swallowed her tiny form. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Bird-thin wrists poked out of the loose sleeves. Dark hair tumbled over her back, the ends kissing the floor. No wings that I could see, but that billowing gown could have hidden wings and a set of carry-on luggage. One thing was for certain—I sure wouldn’t have sent this fragile little thing after a Nix.

“Janah?” I said softly.

She didn’t move. I slid across the room, moving slowly so I didn’t startle her.

“Janah?”

She lifted her head and turned. Huge brown eyes locked on mine. Those eyes were so devoid of thought or emotion that I instinctively yanked my gaze away, as if they could suck what they lacked from me.

I crouched to her level, staying a few yards away.

“Janah, my name is Eve. I won’t hurt you. I only came to ask—”

She sprang. A mountain-lion screech ripped through the room. Before I could move—before I could even think to move—she was on me. I pitched back, head whacking against the floor. Janah wrapped both hands in my long hair, vaulted to her feet, and swung me against a grouping of urns. Pottery shattered and I sailed clear over the divan.

“Div farzand,” Janah snarled.

She charged. I lunged to my feet and spun out of her reach. When I cast a binding spell, it didn’t even slow her down. I leapt onto the divan and bounded across the cushions, then jumped onto the table. As she charged me, I tried to blind her. Either that didn’t work on angels or she was indeed blinded…and didn’t give a damn.

I swung around for a sidekick, but a mental barricade stopped my foot in mid-flight. Kicking a mad angel? My moral code may be a little thin, but that broke it on two counts.

I jumped across to an end table and looked around for a door. There wasn’t one. The only way out of this gilded cage was the window, and I knew that was an illusion. Here, walls were walls. Even ghosts can’t walk through them.