“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered.

He frowned, apology in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh. “Kim’s right. We did learn a lot last night. The problem is, Claire’s not here, and Bex has to stay with you.”

“What about someone else? Another Hybrid?” I asked.

Bex laughed once. “If it comes down to it, we’ll have to take Donovan down. No one is going to help us down another Hybrid without good reason.”

I looked down at Jared’s bloodied hands, and then back to his stormy blue-grey eyes. “And saving me isn’t good enough for them.”

Jared nodded. “We have to persuade them that something big is coming, and to do that we need the book.”

Kim knocked on the door jamb. “Now that’s irony. C’mon, Nigh. I’ll take you to work.”

“Is that okay?” I asked Jared.

“I’d rather you wait,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kim said. She pulled up her shirt, revealing a handgun stuffed half-way into her jeans. “I’m packin’, demons run when they see me coming, and as Donovan learned last night…my right hook is wicked accurate.”

The glance Jared and I traded turned into involuntary smiles.

“Bex will be right behind you,” Jared said.

I kissed his cheek. “Maybe I should stay home today.”

“This is nothing. You should see the other guys,” Jared said with a wink. “Go on.”

Kim lifted my briefcase off the floor, and held it out. I rushed to the bathroom, washed the blood from my hands, and then followed her down the stairs.

“Let’s take my car,” I said.

Kim shrugged. “Whatever.”

As promised, the ride to work was safe and uneventful, and Bex pulled into the parking lot on his new, barely-street legal Ducati Streetfighter just as I stepped out of the car. Kim stayed behind as I rushed into Titan, thankful that being the CEO sort-of-in-training granted me a spot on the elevator.

“Good morning,” I said to my co-workers as the doors slid closed.

Riding in close proximity to so many proved not so lucky after all. The thought of everyone breathing in such a confined space made me a bit claustrophobic.

When the elevator doors opened, I pushed my way out, taking a deep breath when my heels hit the carpet. “Oh, thank God.”

Grant's door was open, and his ankles were crossed on top of his desk, and he was lazily leaned back in his chair. My momentary relief from the elevator was short-lived, and my face screwed in disgust.

I made a bee-line for my office, hoping Grant would be too comfortable to get out of his chair.

“Hey Peanut,” Grant said just as I sat down.