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from Logan and his intense gaze.
    “I left some corpses a couple of blocks over,” said Cain. “Police are on the way. I need to go clean up the mess and scrub the cops’ minds if they see anything they shouldn’t.”
    “I’m far better at such things than you are. I’ll take care of it,” said Logan. “Get Rory to the safe room.” He waved an elegant hand toward one of the doors leading out of the kitchen.
    “Patch her up. She’s bleeding.”
    “I’m keenly aware of that fact, and of just how heavily blooded she is.”
    “Then take her. Make the bleeding stop.”
    “Uh, guys. I’m right here. I know the demons can smell my blood. Just put me down and I’ll dump some superglue on the wound and plug the hole.”
    “You’ll do no such thing,” said Logan.
    “We can’t have you risking infection,” said Cain.
    “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. I’ll be fine. Just get me some clean pants or some scissors to cut away the blood, and I’ll be on my way.”
    Logan looked over her head at Cain, clearly dismissing her. “Lexi warded the room when she came to visit. That should cut off the scent trail of her blood, at least for a time. I’ll be there in a moment.”
    “Logan—”
    “We’re wasting time, Cain. Do as I ask.”
    Cain’s body tightened. Positioned in his arms like she was, she could feel power tremble through him. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how gentle with her he’d been—how light his hold on her was. And now that she knew, she wasn’t sure if she was grateful for his restraint or feeling deprived that he hadn’t held her closer, tighter.
    Even more proof of how stupid this man rendered her.
    Cain’s voice rumbled out in a hard warning. “The two demons I killed aren’t alone.”
    “They won’t even see me,” said Logan, and then he was gone.
    Cain didn’t say a word as he hurried through the kitchen, but she could tell by the muscles bulging in his jaw that he was pissed.
    “Was Logan born a girl?” she asked, hoping to distract Cain from the tension running through his body.
    He stopped, midstride, and looked down at her. The faintest hint of a grin creased the corners of his eyes. “I think you should ask him that yourself. Preferably when I can watch.”
    Then he moved on through the kitchen, but at least now he didn’t look like he was going to chip some molars in frustration.
    Rory hadn’t been in the new shelter before, but it was much nicer than the old one had been. Of course, the fact that it wasn’t a pile of cinders and rubble made it no contest.
    This building—previously the run-down Tyler building—had been gutted last spring and was now nearly rebuilt. The modern, industrial kitchen was gleaming and bright, with new appliances and lots of stainless steel. Past the door a hallway led to several offices and a small conference room that were vacant at this time of night.
    “In here,” said Cain, nodding to a solid wood door with no window. He didn’t have a free hand to open it, so she did the job herself and flipped the light switch.
    Inside was an organized array of freeze-dried food, big boxes labeled as drinking water, and medical supplies stacked neatly on open metal shelving. A gurney covered in pristine white sheets was tucked against the far wall, near a giant stainless steel sink. A row of oxygen tanks sat in a corner, along with a bunch of medical equipment she couldn’t name. On the opposite side of the room was what she swore had to be a kind of oven they used to cremate bodies.
    Despite the fact that they called this the safe room, it made her feel anything but. “Looks like they’re preparing for the zombie apocalypse.”
    “Something like that,” said Cain as he kicked the door shut behind him.
    He set her on the gurney and pulled away.
    The moment her hand left his neck, the visions came back, blasting her with a barrage of lights and colors so ferocious her stomach gave a dangerous heave. Pressure built behind her