The one on the right—his name tag read “Lonnigan”—pulled a radio from the belt around the waist of his cassock and pressed a button. “This is Lonnigan, at the front door. Officer Jennings has just brought in the prime fugitive. Repeat, Jennings has brought in Nina Kane. Over,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

The moment he let go of the button, a cacophony of shouts and orders erupted from the radio, and the other cop made some slight correction to his aim. At my head. A door opened down the hall, and rapid, heavy footsteps clomped toward us. A second later, we were surrounded by armed men in navy cassocks, and my throat suddenly felt as tight as my chest.

“Thank you, Officer Jennings. We’ll take her from here.”

Finn’s hand fell away from me, and another replaced it in a rough grip. Metal clicked all around me as more guns were cocked, and when the new hand turned me, I found myself looking into a face I knew from the news. “Chief Kaughman.” My gaze traced the white embroidery climbing the center of his cassock and scrolling around his broad sleeves.

He was possessed.

“Nina Kane. I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“She turned herself in,” Officer Lonnigan said, and the chief nodded without even glancing at him.

“And why might she do that?” he said, looking at me even as he directed his question to Lonnigan.

“To give my friends a chance to get away,” I said, and surprise flickered behind the chief’s eyes. “Did it work?”

When he didn’t answer, I knew it had. If the other members of Anathema had been captured or killed, he’d want me to know. He’d want to see my pain as the news sank in.

“Why would a demon protect her friends?” Lonnigan asked at my back, and the chief’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Why would a demon even have friends?”

“It wouldn’t. It doesn’t. Demons cannot feel camaraderie or affection.” Chief Kaughman executed an abrupt about-face and made a stiff motion with one hand. “It’s lying.”