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“A lot changed while you were gone. Skye stepped up big time. We all did.”

He absorbed that with a nod. “Then we should definitely talk to them.”

“Right. I'll shower, you gather whatever gear you think we need. We'll head down after.”

I paused at the doorway, looking back at him. In the bright kitchen light, he almost looked normal. Almost like himself. But the shadows under his eyes told a different story.

How long before you tell me what really happened in there? I thought, but kept my mouth shut. For now, I'd follow his lead. Give him space to figure out whatever version of himself he was becoming.

One case at a time. It was all I could do.

The Underground wasSkye's domain now. They'd turned the basement of my warehouse into something that looked like NASA and the Library of Alexandria had a baby. Computer monitors everywhere, books stacked to the ceiling, maps and symbols covering every available surface.

“They practically live down here these days,” I said as we headed down the stairs. “Got paranoid after some demons tried to raid the place a few months back.”

“Demons came here?” Cade's voice went sharp.

“Just a probing attack. Skye handled it before I even got back from a supply run.”

“Skye fought demons?”

“Skye's changed a lot.”

The stairwell opened up into controlled chaos. Monitors displaying news feeds and tracking algorithms, bookshelves groaning under ancient tomes, a massive table covered in maps and arcane symbols.

And in the middle of it all stood Skye, arms crossed, blue hair in a messy ponytail, wearing an oversized sweater and ripped jeans. They looked Cade up and down with narrowed eyes.

“You look like shit,” they said bluntly.

Cade smirked. “Good to see you too, Skye.”

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Then Skye moved forward and punched him in the arm, hard enough to make him wince.

“Don't do that again, asshole. Next time you want to play hero, maybe give us a heads up first.”

The tension broke. Cade rubbed his arm, almost smiling. “Noted.”

Skye turned away quickly, back to their command center. “Sean said you've got a case. Something draining victims?”

We showed them the photos, fell into the familiar rhythm of case analysis. It was surreal, watching them work together like no time had passed, like Cade hadn't been dead for six months.

“Psychic vampire,” Skye confirmed. “Territorial, predictable hunting patterns.”

“What's it targeting?” Cade asked.

Skye cross-referenced the victim profiles. “Loneliness. Bars are perfect hunting grounds for that.”

“Makes sense,” I said. “All three victims were single, recently out of relationships. Easy marks for something promising connection.”

As they huddled over the computers, I stepped back, watching Cade work. The careful way he moved, the measured precision of every gesture. He was functioning, doing the job, but something fundamental was missing.

“Hard to see him like this, isn't it?” Skye appeared beside me, voice low.

I didn't look away from Cade. “He's functional. But it's like someone dimmed the lights.”

“What do you mean?”

“He made breakfast this morning. Perfect bacon and eggs. Since when does Cade cook anything that doesn't come in a microwave box?”