The doorbell rang again, and it might have been my imagination but it sounded insistent.

I’ll answer the door, Samiel offered.

“You?”

I know how to play dumb, he signed, smiling a little. When you’re deaf a lot of people think you’re dumb anyway.

“I’ll go warn Nathaniel,” Beezle said as Samiel went out the front door and jogged downstairs.

My gargoyle flew toward the back, leaving me alone with Lock and Barrel, who gave me panting-doggy looks.

“I’m going to shower, I guess,” I said; then something else occurred to me. “Why don’t you two go help Samiel at the front door?”

I knew Samiel could handle himself, but I figured the presence of two large black mastiffs might help discourage any officers inclined to be pushy. I had the utmost respect for our police department, but now was really not the time for me to be interrogated. There was too much going on, and I couldn’t afford to be tied up at the police station.

In the bathroom I peeled off my disgusting clothes and shoved them in the wastebasket. There was no salvaging that suit, and anyway Daharan had made it magically appear out of thin air. It wasn’t as if I was losing money on an investment.

I scrubbed my hair until I felt like most of the smoke/squid smell had been rinsed away. I washed up quickly after that, taking the time only to note that my belly seemed like it had gotten bigger since I’d woken up that morning. I was never going to make it to nine months. Nobody had any idea how long the gestation period might be of a child with bloodlines like mine, but this kid was definitely popping out sooner rather than later.

But how much sooner? I wasn’t ready to be a mom. So many things in my life were uncertain. Hell, I didn’t even have a crib for this kid. Or diapers. Or any of those little sleeper things with the feet.

And I didn’t have any friends to throw me a baby shower and “ooh” and “ahh” over cute little patterned blankets and baby socks.

I wrapped a towel around my hair and a robe around my body and went to the bedroom to put on the biggest T-shirt I owned and a pair of fleece pants.

I passed Nathaniel in the hallway. “Everything okay outside?”

He nodded. “The dog’s body has been disposed of and the authorities have been diverted. Now I must get rid of this clothing and wash before I smell like the rotting sea for all eternity.”

Samiel and Beezle were at the table eating soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Samiel had thoughtfully put the stack of sandwiches on a platter in the center of the table and covered them so they would keep warm. I sat down and Samiel spooned soup into my empty crock.

“So what happened with the cops?” I asked.

Samiel grinned. I signed at them and pretended I couldn’t read their lips. They seemed fairly frustrated.

“So they won’t be back, then?” I said. “That’s nice.”

Maybe, Samiel signed. There were a bunch of regular emergency response people in the street, but the guys who came to the door were wearing fancy new jackets with “STF” stitched on the lapel.

“STF?” I said blankly. “Is that a nickname for a firehouse?”

“Supernatural Task Force,” Beezle said. “They must have had this in the works for a while if they’ve already got gear.”

“Did they seem unusually interested in talking to me?” I asked. I was starting to wonder how alarmed I should be by this resettlement plan.

Of course, Samiel signed. Then the dogs came downstairs and they decided you didn’t live here and it wasn’t worth it.

“Maybe Daharan’s spell actually helped there,” Beezle said. “It did seem like it was pretty easy for Samiel to bamboozle them even with his look-at-my-innocent-green-eyes act.”

“Where is Daharan?” I asked. “And Jude?”

As if in response to my query, the lock turned in the back door and Jude called, “It’s me.”

I frowned. I was glad Jude was home safe, but Daharan’s continued absence was troubling. Since I’d met him, there was only one other occasion when he’d been out of touch for so long—when he’d gotten the Agency off my back and then met with Alerian. I heard Jude pulling on the clothes he’d stashed by the back door.

He entered the dining room, his face more exhausted and gaunt than it had been in the morning. Samiel got up to get another plate as Jude collapsed in a chair, rubbing his face with both hands.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’ve been all over this city and couldn’t find a trace of him.”

“That’s because he was here, killing Stock, while we were all out,” I said.

Samiel returned with a plate and bowl and Jude dove into the platter of sandwiches as he asked, “Who?”

“Stock,” I said. “One of my dogs.”

Jude glance over at the other two, curled up on the sofa together. Lock picked up his head for a moment, as though he knew what we were talking about, and then put it down again.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked.

I explained about the shifter duplicating my appearance, and how it had lured the dogs outside.

He finished one sandwich and immediately started on the next. “I’ve never heard of a creature able to work its magic over a threshold like that.”

“I know; that’s what I said,” Beezle said.

“And if the creature is charismatic, as your uncle said, it could lure any one of us outside easily,” Jude said. “Especially when we are asleep and vulnerable.”