Breath seeped out of her and she managed his name through the receding iron grip of fear. “Dammit, Sebastian.”

“Hey, kiddo.” He strolled into the foyer, arms open, wry smile at the ready. Tall, angular, with gaunt cheeks and heavy-lidded ebony eyes that saw too much, Sebastian Cain possessed a mysterious unearthly beauty that reminded Erin of wizards and warlocks and fallen heroes. Without hesitation, she ran to him, her bag falling to the floor. Unerringly his arms closed around her, lifted her for inspection. “I guess you missed me.”

She hugged him fiercely. “Oh, Sebastian.”

He led her into the living room and settled her on the sofa. Brushing a kiss across her forehead, he cuddled her next to him. “You didn’t sound good on the phone.”

“You broke into my house.” She pulled free to give him a warning look. “I thought we agreed you’d try to reform.”

“Killed anyone lately?” was his droll response.

He wasn’t prepared for her to dissolve into tears. They poured out of her, and Sebastian drew her to him. “What have they done to you?” he murmured into her tangled hair. She didn’t answer. Clinging to him, she wept for what seemed like hours. Finally empty, she sat back and scrubbed at her drenched face. “I’ve gotten you all wet,” she muttered.

“You’ve done worse.” Matter-of-factly, he reached for a tissue from the side table and mopped up the tears she rarely shed. Too rarely. “Remember the day before you moved to Callenwolde? At least this time you didn’t draw blood.”

Calmer, Erin chuckled. “That was an accident. If you hadn’t gotten in my way, I wouldn’t have broken your nose.”

Sebastian shifted on the wide cushions, turning so he could face her. “We can leave the minute you say the word.”

He made the suggestion simply, without asking questions, and Erin loved him for it. She didn’t have to tell him about Gabriel or the serial killer or why she’d collapsed into tears. He didn’t care.

For her entire life, he’d been the truest friend she’d ever known. Loyalty had stretched three thousand miles. Loyalty had met her in the mountains of California and helped her hide the man she’d killed.

“They know about Nathan.” Erin sprang up from the couch, needing to move.

“How?”

“I confessed.” She spun toward him. “Not about you. I’d never do that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Sebastian stretched his long legs in front of him. He was a man who never regretted his decisions. Life sifted through time at such a rate, regret had no place. Death had none, so why should he? But he’d broken his rule twice. Once when he let pride send him away from Erin’s door, friendship broken by nasty insults he should have known were forced.