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were following the Fallen for a specific purpose.
    When a Fallen one successfully impregnated a muse—meaning a Sinistari had not done their job—the resulting child was a nephilim. The nephilim grew to maturity in less than a week, and began to feed. On everything. Including people. The abominable creature gave new meaning to the term blood hungry .
    It ached in her chest when she thought about it. She had been responsible for allowing a nephilim to walk this earth so many millennia ago. You failed.
    Never again.
    Could the vampires be after the resulting nephilim? What the vampires planned to do with the creature once they had it was beyond Pyx. But any creature that fed on blood must be of interest to vampires.
    Flicking at the dried blood on her scalp, she dustedoff the black crust. The wound had healed, but not her pride. She really wanted to lay some vampire ass flat for no other reason than that they had pissed her off. And she’d probably get a chance since they seemed very interested in Cooper.
    â€œCooper Truhart.” She snorted and settled on the steps out front of his building. “Stupid name.”
    Like Pyxion was any better. The Other, even. Man, had that been a joke on her.
    Beneath had been no ball of fun. An empty void of darkness run through by a mercury sea roiling with wickedness. Pyx had wandered aimlessly, never finding anything but sea and darkness. The few times she had met another of her breed they’d recognized each other by name. It was simply a knowing.
    Her fellow Sinistari had sneered and berated her. They had somehow known she was different, ineffectual, though their true demonic forms were all similar and sexless.
    Well, she could do the woman thing. Just watch!
    Her feminine wiles seemed to have an incredible effect on the Fallen. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her in the club. And when she’d pressed against him on the Metro she had felt his exhale against her cheek. And though she knew an angel’s glass heart did not beat, she had felt something throbbing against her thigh.
    â€œWiles,” she muttered. “Whatever that means. I got lucky. But I’m going to start paying attention from here on out. I’ll be the best damn woman demon my Sinistari brethren have ever seen. No more sneers for me.”
    Perhaps she could use her female status to her advantage. It was apparent Cooper was in no hurry to locate his muse.
    That had to change.
    She didn’t look forward to tracking him all over theworld until he decided when was a good time to switch into Fallen-claims-his-muse mode. She had to prove herself.
    But she couldn’t sleep out on the steps hoping Cooper would trip over her in the morning. Not that she needed sleep, nor did the angel.
    Scanning her sight about the dark neighborhood, Pyx roamed up and down the brick-fronted three-and fourstoried buildings. A residential neighborhood with narrow, cobbled streets and steel poles to prevent cars from parking on an even narrower sidewalk. It was charming, if she were to label it. Though charm meant as little to her as experiencing touch for the first time—it was a nuisance.
    Closeness to the mark meant everything.
    She spied a sign with red writing, loger disponible . “Room available.” It sat across the street and around the corner from where she had determined Cooper’s apartment must be. Perfect.
    Striding across the street, she approached the building. The foyer opened without a code, but she hesitated punching a button on the speaker box this late at night. Mortals were snoozing. It wasn’t that she had a problem punching all the buttons and waking them up; she didn’t want to interact right now.
    Drawing her finger down the list of apartments, she found the one missing a name. “Third floor, apartment 12.”
    The inner lobby door was locked. Pointing her forefinger, she shifted enough to grow out the long adamant talon from the top of her