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“Christo,” he repeated without flinching, no black bleeding into his eyes.

The word hung in the air between us. All my tests said human. All my instincts said wrong.

“How?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. “How are you here?”

Cade's expression flickered, something dark passing behind his eyes before being carefully locked away. “I don't know. I remember the gate, I remember Hell, then I woke up in Central Park two days ago.”

“That's it? Six months in Hell and you just... woke up in a park?”

“That's all I remember.”

I wanted to scream. Wanted to grab him and shake him until the real answers fell out. Instead, I sank into my chair, suddenly exhausted.

“I tried everything,” I said, not caring how broken I sounded. “Every ritual, every summoning, every desperate deal with things that should have killed me just for asking. Nothing worked.”

“I know,” Cade said. “Sterling told me.”

The flat delivery hit me wrong. No gratitude, no emotion, nothing. Like he was commenting on the weather.

“You know?” I repeated, anger flaring. “That's it? I nearly got myself killed a dozen times trying to save your ass and you 'know'?”

Something shifted in Cade's expression. Not guilt or gratitude, but something that might have been confusion. “What do you want me to say?”

The question was so wrong, so fundamentally not-Cade, that I actually flinched.

“Jaysus,” I breathed. “What did they do to you down there?”

Before Cade could answer, Roxie jumped onto his lap, circling twice before settling down. She started kneading his thigh with her paws, purring like a diesel engine. Cade looked down at her like she was some exotic creature he'd never encountered.

“She's... affectionate,” he observed.

“She's yours,” I said sharply. “Was yours. Before you left, she used to sleep on your jacket every night. Wouldn't eat unless you fed her.”

Cade nodded, processing this information without any visible emotional response. He started petting Roxie with mechanical precision, like someone following a manual.

“Animals remember,” Sterling said quietly from his corner.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I wish they didn't,” I muttered, watching my cat make a fool of herself over someone who clearly didn't remember her.

The silence stretched until I couldn't stand it anymore. “So what now?” I asked. “You're back, but you're not... you're not right. You're not you.”

“I'm trying to be,” Cade said, still petting Roxie with that same careful precision.

“Trying?” The word came out harsher than I intended. “You're trying to be yourself?”

“Yes.”

The simple honesty of it hit me like a physical blow. Whatever had happened in Hell, whatever had been done to him, Cade knew he was broken. And he was trying to fake being whole.

“Fuck,” I said, scrubbing my hands over my face. “This is so fucked up.”

Sterling cleared his throat. “We need to focus on Asmodeus. He's been busy while Cade was gone, and something big is coming.”

“Right,” I said, grateful for the distraction. “The subway tunnels. The ritual sites.”

I moved to my wall of research, pointing at the mapped locations. “Three sites along the city's major ley lines. They're building up to something, gathering energy.”

Cade stood, dislodging Roxie, who gave an indignant meow before settling on the couch. He studied my work with clinical interest, tracing the connections I'd drawn between seemingly random events.