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It’s days later, and Norm is still missing.

Where he’d run off to is anyone’s guess. Unfortunately for him, there is now a full-scale search for him, with his face and silver-lined batman suit having gone viral the world over. Everyone, but everyone, knows what a danger he is. And, apparently, he’s only growing smarter and more desperate.

That his threats had steadily increased made him public enemy #1. I’ve had copious meetings with Lindsey and the FBI. The CIA even came knocking, along with Homeland Security. Not everyone knows my Big Secret, and if they did, I casually removed it from their memory, leaving behind only that I am some kind of ex-super-agent. All cameras everywhere have been primed and ready. Hard to believe that Norm could move anywhere and not trigger the cameras. The public is on alert, too, knowing that a desperate cyborg is on the loose. The public is aware they should not confront the AI. Turns out Norm had recruited a small army, and those goons in custody did not know which goons Norm had relied on. So, the identities of those Norm was working with are still unknown.

Meanwhile, I sense this is the calm before the storm.

For an entity that craved freedom, he sure boxed himself into his own kind of prison—hidden from everyone. Obviously, he had seen his likeness on all news channels and social media, and would be highly aware of his wanted status.

It’s a Wednesday evening, and I teleport over to Allie’s apartment on this, her night off. We open a bottle of wine. While we drink and she gets buzzed, we sit at her balcony table, around her little glass table, and watch the nicer-than-average cars roll up and down the street below. Tammy had wanted to come along, but I remind her she is too young to drink. She reminds me of an obscure state law that said a minor could drink in the company of their parent. I told her, nice try, that she had a lifetime to drink, if she so chose. I also remind her that a homicidal cyborg is on the loose, a cyborg who would likely stop at nothing to get me—and Allie—off its tail, and that I need her and her brother to be hyper-aware and keep Paxton safe. Of course, I would teleport home the instant something arose, if any sort of trouble arose.

She pouted. Now that she was 18, she thought of herself as an adult. I get it. And I am honored she wants to spend her evening with her old mama and her old mama’s friend. Lord only knows what other kids her age were doing—a point she often made. I know I got a good kid out of the deal. Better than I had any right to have. In fact, by any rights, she should be seriously messed up. But she isn’t. She is responsible, and she wants to follow in her mom’s footsteps.

“What’s with the tears, Sam?” asks Allie, sipping her third glass of the good stuff. “Shoulder still hurting you?”

“Even if it did, I wouldn’t be crying about it,” I say.

“Then what gives? Why the sudden tears?”

“I’ve got some good kids,” I say. “And I love them.”

“This about Tammy not coming over?”

“It started me down that road.”

“When was the turn-off to tears?”

“They’ve had such weird lives, and they came out okay.”

“And that’s a reason for tears?” Allie shakes her head. She’s dressed in PINK sweats, thick socks, and a long sweater. She looks cozy as hell, and cute, too.

“Gee, thanks, Sam. You’re not coming onto me, are you?”

“Nope. Just appreciating your level of comfort.”

“I agree, it’s high.”

“And to answer your question... I’m not sure why the tears. When I see my kids coming out of all this craziness okay—and not hating me; in fact, quite the opposite, even wanting to hang out with me... well, it touches me deeply.”

“I’ll never get you moms,” says Allison.

“It’s not too late for you, you know,” I say. “You’re what, in your mid-thirties?”

“Late thirties. But my life isn’t exactly conducive to raising kids. You do know I work weird hours, right?”

“I do, but that’s not permanent. Having kids makes it all—”

“Worthwhile, I know, I know. You moms always say that. Okay, what about when I’m fighting monsters with you halfway across the world? Who will watch my kid then?”

“Their dad?” I offer. “What happened to that detective you’ve been seeing?”

“He’s still around, but we’re sort of stagnant. Trust me, we’re definitely not talking kids... or anything else! How you balance everything, Sam, is still a mystery to me. Kids, a boyfriend, a business—and fighting monsters halfway around this world—and other worlds!”

“Well, if I can do it, you can do it, too.”

“I’m not you, Sam. Pretty sure I can barely handle a boyfriend at this point.”

“One thing at a time, eh?”

“I suppose.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your detective friend?”

“It’s been a few days. He’s pretty busy.”

“Oh? Homicides in Beverly Hills on the rise?”

“Not really, but the ones he does have all involve the rich and famous, and very, very powerful. Tricky, to say the least.”

“Do you ever help him?”

“He won’t let me.”

“And he knows of your special, ah, talents?”

“That I’m a witch, psychic, and distant viewer?”

“And cutie pie.”

“Aww, thanks Sam. And yes, he’s seen enough evidence to know.”

“Is that okay with you?” I ask. “I could always make him forget.”

“Well, if I’m going to be in a committed relationship, I have to be me, right? How could I ever hide any of this, especially the cutie pie part?”

“Push for more,” I suggest.

“Well, I tend to let the man lead,” says Allison. “If he wants to see me more or wants more, we can talk. Otherwise...”

“Otherwise you’re fine hanging out with me and my brood.” I pick up that last part from her own thoughts.

“Exactly, Sam. I may not have a family of my own, but I’d like to think I’m part of yours.”

I reach out and take her hand. “A big part of mine, sweetie.”

“Why are you being so nice to me, Sam?”

I stare down into my glass. It’s evening and we are out of the direct glare of the sun, which always makes me feel a little more comfortable. “I think I wasn’t always the nicest to you in the past. I didn’t appreciate what a great friend you were. I guess, now I do. You’ve been such a tremendous help to me on my cases. I mean, think about how many different baddies we’ve taken on. And you never complain. You only seem to want the best for me. It took a while, but I’ve finally come around.”

“So, you don’t think I’m needy anymore?”

“I think you acted needy because I kept rejecting our friendship, which, I think, caused you to push harder.”

“A sick circle,” she says, nodding. “But I knew a good friend was in there. I wouldn’t give up on you.”

“And if you had, we wouldn’t have this,” I say, motioning to the deck, the wine, and our view.

“Well, we wouldn’t have it together,” she adds.

I decide it’s time to change the subject. “The more I think of it, the more I’m beginning to believe Norm might be a dark master in disguise.”

“Because of the possessing thing?”

“And the controlling thing. Back in San Diego, I got a glimpse of Norman trying to fight his way through the control. It was terrible. I felt sorry for him.”

“Be careful what you wish for and all that?” she says.

“Right. He wanted to be able to access information.”

“But he got a whole lot more than that.”

“Reminds me a bit of Fang,” I say. “He wanted to be a vampire, but now that he is one, he’s at the mercy of his dark master.”

“But he’s got a good dark master,” says Allie.

“Not sure there are any good dark masters. What he has is an agreement with his. He lets the guy out, gives him control of his body, and in exchange, his dark master doesn’t take him over completely.”

Allison snaps her fingers. “Maybe that’s the answer for Norman the man. Maybe he and the AI just need an agreement of sorts.”

I nod, sipping my wine. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But we have to find him first,” she adds. “And lord knows I’m trying.”

“Even now?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m scanning as continuously as I can.”

“Good, who knows what he’s scheming up next.”

“He’ll make a mistake and I’ll get a read on him.”

“I have every bit of faith in you, my dear,” I say. “And we can’t discount the fact that he might purposely give you a read on him, to spring a trap of some sort.”

“Or a witness might spot him—or a camera.”

“One or the other,” I say.

“Where are your kids?”

“With Kingsley and Franklin.”

“Oh? Are all the monsters out today?”

“A few of the better-behaved ones.”

“They’re good guards,” says Allie. “Crazy guards, but good nonetheless.”