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right now.” There was something in his voice. Fear? No, he wasn’t the type to be afraid of anything. Yet she couldn’t think of anything else it might be.
    “I can make it.” Harriet croaked, trying to shoo him away as she managed to find her footing again.
    “I’m helping you to your apartment. Lock yourself in if you have to.” Marc helped her up to the landing and opened the door to the thirteenth floor.
    A woman followed behind them and stepped onto the landing with them. Harriet glanced at her and smiled. Nightmares were prowling the streets, but Marc had the sweet coffee shop owner with him. What was her name? Mary? Mabe?
    “Let me hold the door. You two go through.” Marc the gentleman.
    The affection between Marc and the woman was wonderfully obvious. Harriet couldn’t help herself. “You brought a lovely friend home with you, Marc. The one from the little coffee shop. I like her.”
    To make matters more amusing, Marc’s chest puffed out a bit. “Mae Hopkins. This is Harriet McKay.”
    Mae! That was it. Harriet shuffled into the hall on Marc’s arm and smiled all the more as the lights grew a little brighter.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. McKay.” Mae followed them down to the far end of the corridor. “Marc’s told you about me then?”
    Mae’s grin tickled Harriet all the more. “No.”
    She resisted the urge to giggle. It would only come out as some hideous burbling. Her wacky hair and dirty, disheveled state had probably already worried Marc and Mae. She didn’t want to look any more the part of a madwoman.
    Harriet wasn’t the only one in rough shape, though. It seemed as though they had walked out of a nightmare too.
    Marc opened the door to 1305, and Harriet crooked a finger at Mae. “Come in for a moment. I have something for your injuries. I know Marc doesn’t even own a bandage.”
    She sent them away with tea, bandages, and ointment. If she hadn’t been in her banshee form, she might have healed Mae with her hands, but her curse dulled her magic at night. Thankfully no visions plagued her while they were in her apartment, and the cats stayed on the shelves. They didn’t like Marc, but they never dared to give him a hard time.
    Before Harriet could change or feed the cats, there was a frantic knock at her door. Elli hissed and Kerr puffed out. She shushed them and opened the door, thinking Marc might’ve come back for something else or even just to check on her without raising any questions from Mae.
    Harriet startled, nearly losing her balance, as she stared at Kiral. He gripped each side of her doorframe as if holding himself back from bursting into her apartment. His gaze dissolved her surprise and made her stomach flutter. Hunger. Naked and raw. Same look as he had when he’d bitten her earlier.
    His mouth was slightly open, fangs in clear view. A wave of heat went through her. “I’m sorry to bother you, Grandmother. But is Harriet in? I need to see her.”
    “Harriet?” She rasped. He knew her name? And he wanted to see her. Not just wanted, but needed to see her.
    “Your granddaughter.” Kiral peered over her shoulder, searching the apartment. “She’s your granddaughter, yes?”
    So he knew her name, but he didn’t know it was her. It was tempting to ask where he had learned her name. Yet wherever he heard it, he didn’t know she was the same person he had bitten.
    Harriet wanted to reply that she was the one. She could explain her curse. He knew she was a banshee and a witch. It shouldn’t shock him.
    Yet at the same time she couldn’t tell him. Kiral wanted the young woman who had offered herself to him in the stairwell. There was something desperate in his expression. Polite as he was, he was ignoring her. The old woman. The repulsive, crazy hag.
    Couldn’t he tell the young woman and old witch were one and the same? Her lower lip quivered. He’d never want her like this. No man would want anything to do with her.
    “Is that blood on your skirt,