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Back inside, I found Sterling and Cade sitting in uncomfortable silence. Roxie had reclaimed her spot on Cade's lap, and he was petting her with that same mechanical precision.

“We should check out the tunnels,” I said without preamble. “Whatever Asmodeus is planning, we can't let him finish it.”

“Agreed,” Cade said.

“Sterling, you heading out?” I asked Sterling

“Yeah,” the older hunter said, understanding I needed space to process this clusterfuck. “Got my own place across town. I'll check in tomorrow.”

“Good.” I looked at Cade, who was still mechanically petting my cat. “You remember where the bedroom is?”

Cade nodded, standing carefully so Roxie could jump down. “Down the hall. Last door.”

At least that much was still there.

“Thank you,” Cade said, lifting Roxie carefully before standing. “For the hospitality.”

The formal politeness was like nails on a chalkboard. The old Cade would have made some crack about my decorating skills or complained about the lumpy mattress. This version thanked me like a stranger.

As Cade headed toward our bedroom, Roxie trailing hopefully behind him, I caught Sterling's eye before he left.

“This is fucked,” I said quietly.

“Yes,” Sterling agreed, shrugging on his jacket. “But he's trying, Sean. Whatever happened down there, whatever was taken from him, he's trying to come back.”

“What if this is as far back as he gets?” I asked. “What if this is it?”

Sterling was quiet for a long moment. “Then we adapt,” he said finally. “We work with what we have.”

He left me alone with my thoughts and the sound of Cade moving around in our bedroom.

Tomorrow, we'd hunt demons. Tonight, I'd lie in bed next to someone who looked like Cade, sounded like Cade, but felt like astranger. Someone who knew where the bedroom was but might not remember why we'd chosen to share it.

Either way, we had work to do. The world was still ending, Asmodeus was still out there, and broken or not, Cade was still one of the best hunter I knew.

5

BACK TO BUSINESS

SEAN

Sunlight hit me like a slap, cutting through the blinds and landing right across my face. I reached out automatically, looking for warmth that wasn't there. Just cold sheets and an empty space where someone should have been.

For a split second, panic clawed at my throat. Had I dreamed it all? The whole fucking mess—Cade showing up, Sterling's grim face, my cat acting like Christmas morning?

Then I smelled coffee.

“Jaysus,” I muttered, rolling out of bed and grabbing yesterday's jeans off the floor. No shirt, no socks, just stumbled toward the kitchen following that beautiful smell like a zombie after brains.

The warehouse had never been much to look at—concrete walls, exposed everything, harsh lighting that made you feel like you were living in a bunker. Which, honestly, I kind of was. But it worked. Had a bed, had a kitchen, had enough space to store an ungodly amount of weapons. What more did a guy need?

Roxie shot past me like she was late for something important, all cream fur and attitude, heading straight for the kitchen. At least someone was excited about our houseguest.

I stopped at the doorway, squinting against the brightness. Morning light poured through the big windows, turning everything golden and making the whole scene look weirdly domestic.

And there he was.

Cade sat at my kitchen table with one of my laptops, coffee steaming next to him, looking like he'd been there all along. Hair still damp from the shower, curling at the ends the way it always did. Wearing one of my old t-shirts that hung loose on him now, and sweatpants I didn't recognize—probably Sterling's.