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uncle’s silent reprimand. “We got work to do. I’ll call Georgie. She needs to know things are worse than originally thought.”
    The comment turned Madison a nice hue of white, totally uncomplimentary to her features. “Worse?” Tears brimmed, threatening to fall from her red eyes.
    God, the glitter of those unshed tears magnified her sky-blue irises—truly one of her best features. She blinked and the action proved too much for the moisture to remain unsettled; the tears fell on her cheeks. The undesirable urge to comfort her rose in him, but he consoled as well as Mother Theresa kicked ass.
    Gage’s girlfriend, Zoe, saved the awkward moment, bursting in the kitchen door, the hilt of her knife clutched in her palm, murderous intent blazing in her brown eyes. Ah…Zoe Hart. A woman neither as sweet nor as frilly as her name sounded. Zo, as he fondly called her, was Gage’s bristly, ex-military, black belt in judo and three other forms of martial arts, girlfriend. She could kick butt while smiling and not break a hard sweat, much less a labored pant. Nix adored her like a sister and argued with her like one, too. A damn embarrassing shame she could kick his ass, which was completely unfair as far as sibling rivalry went.
    “Where’s the Mimicker? “ Zo demanded, adjusting the blade in her hand as her gaze flicked over them all before coming to rest on Madison and Amos.
    Narrow-eyed Madison honed in on Zo. “Who the heck are you?”
    A hushed pause descended, and Nix stifled the urge to grin at Madison’s bravado. In the face of fear, she was one gutsy woman, and he admired her strength. Unfortunately, evil bastards like demons were attracted to the same trait.
    Zo arched an eyebrow at the sound of hostility threaded through Madison’s voice.
    Madison shot an over-exaggerated, sarcastic look in Nix’s direction. “You’re too late. Apparently it’s already been handled by a five-year-old.” She adjusted Amos. “I really wish you would all show up at once. Or at least do something!”
    She abruptly turned on her heels—a military about-face to make any Marine proud—before exiting the kitchen with a small huff.

Chapter Seven

    Feeling like a firing squad awaited them in her bedroom, Madison walked up the stairs slowly, as if she could prolong the inevitable outcome.
    Cold.
    Dear God, frigid to her very core. Her teeth chattered as pinpricks of unease scuttled across her skin. And numb, too, from all that’d happened the past few months.
    Everything would be easier if she could scrunch her eyes closed and hide beneath the covers as she did as a child. Cowering worked then to stamp out the beady, glowing eyes of the monster peeking from her closet or from under her bed. Childish fears paled in comparison to her very real concerns and horrors. Hiding beneath the blankets and shivering in fright wouldn’t help her now.
    Tears blurred her vision. She opened the door to her bedroom and nudged it shut with her hip. When she placed Amos on her bed, he curled onto his side, suckling his thumb. The habit returned at the same time his murderous bent emerged.
    She ruffled his towhead with one hand and dashed at the scalding tears with the other. Since meeting Micah, everything had gone to shit. First, her parents died in a single-vehicle accident. There’d been some idyllic moments during her marriage to Micah before Amos, complacent years, and although she’d been a little bored, she’d been happy. Until one morning shortly after Amos turned two, when he’d kissed her good-bye, headed to work, and never returned home. The note she discovered on her pillowcase later in the evening explained that while he loved her and Amos, he couldn’t bear to ‘live here’ any longer. Whatever the hell that meant. Devastated by his betrayal, depression would have ruled her if not for the needs of her son.
    The police investigated her for fraudulently reporting a missing person who never lived. Apparently, Micah existed