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twitched in her chest. She had a protector. She’d never had one of those before. It was problematic, considering that they needed to know who the demon worked for, but it was quite nice, really. Annoying. But nice.
    “I’m fine.” She glanced at the demon. He’d begun to steam. “Move it, I need a picture.”
    She crawled away from Ian and yanked out her phone to take a quick picture of the demon’s sublimating face. Eventually, he’d reappear in the hell from which he came.
    “What the hell was that for?” Ian asked.
    She turned to snap at him, but shut her mouth when police sirens rang through the night.  
    “Damn it! The alarm.” She grabbed Ian’s hand and pulled. “We need to get out of here. The demon distracted me before I could stop the museum’s alarm system. It alerted the police.”
    “Fuck.” Ian surged to his feet.
    Fiona reached for the door and locked it, then pushed it closed. Mortals didn’t have her prints on file, so she paid no mind to shielding her hands.
    She jumped over the remains of the demon, who’d almost entirely disappeared, and ran down the alley with Ian. They reached the main street.
    Thank gods, no police yet.  
    “Wrap your arm around my shoulder,” she said. “And pretend you’re pissed.”
    He did as she said, and they stumbled off down the street as if they’d just been to the pub. Fortunately, there were so many around here that it wouldn’t look strange. They were slipping into the doorway of the building that housed their flat when the first police car pulled to a stop in front of the museum.  
    “Damn it, Ian,” she said as they climbed the stairs to the flat. “We needed to find out who that demon worked for. Logan will no’ tell us, but I want to know which god is after the book. Why’d you have to kill him?”
    “You expect me no' to kill him after I watch him try to strangle the life from you?” The residual violence in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. It was weird, but she kind of liked it. Though it had screwed them.
    “I bet that the god who wants the book sent only one demon to get it, because he thought it would be an easy grab job. When that one does no’ show up with the book, he’ll just send more.”
    “No’ killing him would no’ have changed that.”
    “True. But I wanted to question him.”
    “I’ll no’ kill the next one, how about that?”
    She scowled. “The police are going to be canvassing the museum all night. They’ll want to make sure no one got in.”
    “Then we canna go back in until tomorrow. Though the mortal police will no’ trigger the enchanted exhibits, our presence would. I can navigate around them, but it might no’ be a quiet job.”
    “Fine. The god will no’ realize his demon has failed for a while yet, anyway. We’ll go in tomorrow night.” She glanced over to see that one of his fists was clenched while the other was pressed to his ribs. And he was limping. “You’re hurt.”
    “He was a bloody big demon who packed a hell of a punch. I’ll be fine soon.”
    She let them into the flat and turned to him. “Take off your jacket.”
    His brows rose.  
    “I just want to check your ribs. You’ve been favoring them.” Gods, some weird, crazy compulsion had her wanting to take care of him. Nothing crazy, like washing his clothes, but check out his wounds at least. Besides popping the top on Fluffy’s Meowy Meal cans, she wasn’t really a caretaker. But she wanted to take care of him. She scowled.
    “Well?” she asked.
    He gave her a long look, then shrugged out of his jacket and drew the shirt up over his head. His arms dropped and he gripped the cotton loosely in his right fist.
    She sucked in a breath at the sight of rigid muscles, then coughed, trying to cover the noise. Smooth. Broad chest and trim hips created a proportion that the ancient Greeks would have envied. Pythagoras would have discovered a golden triangle had he seen Ian.  
    “Move your arm.” She tried her