“Got it,” said Owen, and then washed the plates and glasses they’d used while she cleaned up and put the leftover pizza in the refrigerator. Soon after, he went back to his place, where he texted Kiara and told her he’d secured a babysitter. He gave her his address and told her he’d lifted the gun from Mrs. Hultz. She wrote back that she’d be over in about an hour, and then added, “Don’t shoot yourself.” He was, at first, surprised by her sense of humor, but then it came to him she might not be kidding. Looking at the gun he’d laid on his kitchen table, he saw the muzzle pointed directly at him. With his pinky finger, he slowly spun the business end of the weapon away.

As he sat musing about Crenshaw and Kiara and Mrs. Hultz, something nagged at him. The entire situation was, in fact, ridiculous. A vampire? A vampire painter, no less. Running around after dark in the guise of a disembodied spirit, interceding in some age-old power struggle between good and evil. All that was swirling in his thoughts, but the one thing foremost on his mind was Melody. He didn’t think it was fair involving her. It was too dangerous and only a matter of time before the old man figured out who his invisible guests were. Perhaps he already knew. She had twice as much to lose, seeing as she was married and had children. He hoped to see her that night and talk her out of participating in whatever plan he and Kiara could stir up.

The sun had nearly set when Kiara showed up at his door with William in her arms. She was frowning and the baby was smiling. She was wearing all black: tight black jeans, a black T-shirt, athletic shoes, and a concealed-carry tactical bag slung across her back. He let her in and they sat at the table in the kitchen. He made her coffee but he had warm milk, hoping it would make him drowsy so he’d fall asleep quicker. She put the toddler down and he waddled off into the living room with his puppy doll and plopped down on the carpet. “Got any ideas?” asked Owen.

Kiara nodded. She pulled out her phone and signaled she was going to text him. Crenshaw could be spying on them from his own OBE. Owen turned his screen on and waited while she typed, her fingers moving in a blur over the tiny keyboard. A few seconds later, there was a ding and he looked down. The message read, When you achieve night world, go to the painter’s and find him. Look for best way in. Once night comes, we can bet he’ll be awake, so no worries that he’ll be in the night world. I need to take him by surprise.