“I am not. But I am with the Hollows. Joe.” The gun left my back and I looked over my shoulder. The man was the beefier of the two observers I’d seen on my first night, the night of the interview. “They sent you out here to take over?” He frowned.

I frowned right back. “I’m here to look after Eric, yes.”

Joe’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, Eric. Gotcha. Sorry, I thought you were here to . . . never mind. I recognize you now.” He tipped his chin in the direction I’d already been heading. “His place is out there, not far. Have fun.”

I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I didn’t like him. I didn’t like the fact that he was out here, either. I mean, sure, his explanation—such as it was—made sense, and I had no reason to doubt him, and yet, there it was.

“Thanks. I think.” I took a step back, turned and continued on down the path. He’d been doing his job, stopping me and making sure I was no danger. Still, I didn’t like him. I paused. “Who trained you?”

“Corb. He’s the best,” Joe answered.

I looked over my shoulder. He was almost out of sight and moving fast through the bush, though he made very little sound.

Nope, didn’t like him at all. I itched to call Eammon and ask him if Joe really was on an assignment, but I had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t.

All ideas of phoning Eammon slipped away as I turned the last corner, pushed some low-hanging moss aside, and got my first good look at Eric’s home. One story and built sturdy with brick—something of a surprise this far out in the reserve—it had one door and four small windows, tall and narrow, two to each side of the door. They couldn’t even have let in much light.

I did see movement behind one window, like someone twitching a curtain maybe. “Eric? It’s Breena. We met at the cemetery a couple of weeks ago. Eammon sent me to . . .” I wondered how to word this. I didn’t want to say I’d been assigned to babysit him because he was a pansy. “. . . to hang out with you for a few days, make sure things are good.”

The door opened a crack and the big dark eyes I remembered from that first night peered at me through the gap, his glasses making them even bigger, just like that first meeting. “Oh. They don’t think much of me, do they, that they’d send someone untrained.”

He wasn’t wrong. I shrugged. “Let’s make the best of it. I’ll do a perimeter check, then I’ll check the house and you can tell me what’s going on. Okay?”