“Quentin,” I said aloud for no one’s benefit but my own. Quentin was Deaf. “Hey, sweetheart,” I signed. “How are you?”

Fortunately, as the grim reaper, I’d been born knowing every language ever spoken on Earth. That included the vast and beautiful array of signed languages.

A shy smile spread across his handsome face. He nodded a greeting and I threw my arms around him for a hug. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and held me to him a long minute. When he let go, he drew in his shoulders. Something was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.

He shrugged and looked down, seeming embarrassed. “Everything is different now.”

My chest muscles tightened. He had been possessed by a demon hell-bent on killing me and ended up here in Albuquerque as a result. Artemis killed the demon that had possessed him, and Quentin basically woke up out of a catatonic state in a strange place with no family and no friends. But later I found out he had no family and no one to go back to in D.C., either, so I asked if he wanted to stay here. While he lived at the School for the Deaf in Santa Fe on the weekdays, we decided he’d spend his weekends at the convent with the sisters for now, at least until someone found them out and told the sisters they couldn’t have a sixteen-year-old boy living at a convent full of nuns. But the Mother Superior had fallen a little in love with him, like pretty much everyone else, and was breaking all kinds of rules to have him there.

Still, he’d been possessed. As in a demon had taken up residence inside his body and kicked him out for a while. I didn’t know how much of that time he would remember. How much it would affect him.

The reason the demon had possessed him in the first place, the reason they had possessed anyone, was because he could see into the supernatural world. Just barely. Just enough to make him a target. He could see a grayness where a ghost might be standing, but those who could do that could also see my light. In other words, they could pick me out of a lineup. They could lead the demons to me. Reyes’s dad wanted me, the portal into heaven, and he apparently wanted me bad enough to ruin the lives of other people. Some who had been possessed had died as a result.

“Why don’t you come inside?”

I opened my door farther. He started to go in, then stopped midstride. He surveyed my apartment, then took a wary step back.

Surprised, I asked, “Can you see them?” I figured even if he could, he could see only a fine gray mist where the women would be. But he was looking directly at them, his expression guarded, his stance almost hostile.

“I see them now,” he said, his signs sharp, frustrated. “Not like I did before. I see dead people everywhere.” He looked at me then, his brows drawn in anger. “Did you know the school in Santa Fe was built right by a cemetery?”

I sighed aloud. I did know that.

“So you can see them now? Not just their essence?”

He wrapped his arms around himself and nodded, refusing to take his eyes off the woman clinging to my ceiling. I had to admit, that had taken me by surprise, too.

I took a hand and put it on his face to gently bring him back to me; then I signed, “I’m so sorry, Quentin.” Seeing dead people walking around would put anyone on edge. While I had been born with the ability, I did try to see it from another’s point of view and I could understand how that fact would put a crimp in one’s outlook.

His eyes watered and his mouth formed a grim line.

“Why don’t we go in here?” I pointed behind him to Cookie’s apartment.

He nodded.

After closing my door, I knocked on Cookie’s, knowing her daughter, Amber, was home. Even then, I didn’t normally knock, but I had company. I didn’t want to catch Amber off guard. She was a twelve-year-old girl. She was probably prancing about to the latest pop song in her underwear. Or maybe that was just me.

Amber answered with her usual bounciness; then she spotted Quentin. I figured he would stun her a little. He did. He’d stunned me a little when I first saw him, too.

“Hey, hon, can we use your living room for a minute?”

“Sure,” she said. She seemed to be overcome with shyness all of a sudden. Amber wasn’t exactly the shy type, but I got it. Quentin was arresting.

I signed as I spoke. “Awesome, thank you. This is Quentin. And Quentin this is Amber.” They both smiled a greeting and we stepped inside.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked him.

I quickly interpreted and Quentin waved a hand in negation. “No, thank you,” he signed.

And Amber melted. I could see it in her eyes. Her forlorn expression. Her hand over her heart. Subtlety was not her strong suit.

“Thanks, Amber,” I said, hoping to herd her out of the room. “We just needed a place to talk for a few. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice breathy with newfound love.

Yep, I’d so been there.

We sat on Cookie’s earth-toned sofa, and Quentin took out his sunglasses. I almost forgot. He saw me as a spotlight shining in his face. That couldn’t be pleasant.

“So, what’s going on?” I asked him when he sat on the edge of the sofa. “How’s Sister Mary Elizabeth?”

Sister Mary Elizabeth was a mutual friend with a similar unique ability, only she could hear the angels as they chatted amongst themselves. And, according to the sister, they were very chatty.

“She’s good,” he said. His jacket sleeves were almost too long for his arms. The cuffs covered half his hands as he signed, but his hands were masculine already with hard angles and long fingers. “She said to say hi.”