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back,” he told her as the sirens outside abruptly cut off.
    “Nice Arnold imitation.”
    “Arnold?”
    “Never mind.”
    Culhane took a step closer as pounding sounded from the front of the house. The human police were here, demanding entry. “There’s much to explain—without the child involved.”
    “Excuse me,” the young one interrupted. “I’m not a child. I’m almost thirteen. Well, I will be in ten months.”
    Culhane held up one hand for silence, and Maggie looked dumbfounded when he got it. From the front of the house came the frantic pounding of fists and the explosive shouts of the police. He fought a fresh burst of impatience. None of this was going as he had planned. But then, dealing with mortals was always fraught with exasperation.
    “When your police have left, I’ll return.” Then he shifted again and couldn’t stop himself from smiling—just a bit—when he heard the child say, “So cool.”
     
    By the time the police were gone, Maggie figured she’d had a full enough day for anybody. Instead of trying to cook, she picked up the phone, ordered pizza for her and Eileen and tried to forget about everything that had happened.
    Not easy to do when your brand-new, surprisingly annoying superstrength kept intruding. Sure, it had come in handy when she opened a bottle of wine. But snapping the doorknob off in her hand was a pain in the ass, and she didn’t want to think about having to replace the showerhead. Hmm. Although . . . maybe she’d get one of those water-massage things this time.
    With the way her luck with men was going, a shower-massage orgasm sounded like way less trouble.
    Just the thought of the word orgasm had Maggie twitching uncomfortably on the couch, which upset Sheba, asleep beside her on the cushions, so much that it actually forced the dog to roll over. “Sorry,” Maggie muttered, stroking one hand down her lazy dog’s back.
    Sheba wouldn’t understand about the orgasm thing anyway. She’d been spayed at six months. But for Maggie, it had been so long since she’d had a good, solid, earth-shaking orgasm, she could hardly remember what it felt like. Joe had not only been boring, but surprisingly untalented in certain areas—not that she wanted to speak ill of the eaten. Then up popped this burglar in suede pants and leather boots, and all of a sudden Maggie was imagining all sorts of interesting things.
    Her body was clenched, and she had to will it into submission. “Get a grip, Maggie. Not only did the guy disa-freaking-ppear right in front of you, but he’s some kind of nut, too.”
    But then, how had he known about the pendant? About what had happened to her earlier? Had he been following her? Did he know what that thing in Joe’s office was?
    Frowning, she pushed Culhane the weird from her mind and shouted out, “Hey, kiddo, you finished with your homework?”
    “Almost. Want to help me with my math?”
    Maggie laughed, half turned on the couch and waited for Eileen to poke her head around the hallway door. They both knew all too well that Maggie’s relationship with math was sketchy at best. “Did you really ask me that?”
    The girl grinned. “Just kidding.”
    God, having Eileen here with her was really turning into a gift. No better way to avoid thinking about a certain annoying male than to focus on the kid you were babysitting. “I figured. Did you call your mom?”
    “Not yet. I will, though, before I go to bed.”
    “Okay.” Maggie checked the clock on the wall. “You’ve got a half hour before lights-out.”
    “Got it.” Eileen smiled. “Unless, of course, you want to be a totally cool aunt and let me stay up to watch Supernatural .”
    “Nice try,” Maggie told her, remembering Nora’s strict instructions on TV time and bedtimes. The woman would have made a great general. Nora might be a little flaky about her own life, but she ran Eileen’s with discipline and structure. “I’ll tape it for you, though, and you can watch it