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Groaning, Adrianne pushed herself upright, letting Sam’s leather jacket fall to her lap. “Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t a good idea, Chester. At least not the way I did it.” It was plenty long enough for her to stretch out. But no, that would have been too easy. In her infinite wisdom, she’d curled up on one end with her head resting at an awkward angle against the arm of the sofa.

The cat glared at her from his perch on the coffee table, unimpressed by her plight. All he cared was that his sleep had been disrupted last night and breakfast was late. Squinting toward the window, she sighed. The sun was high in the sky.

She brought her head down to her shoulder on one side and then the other, wincing at the slight crack and the twinge of muscle pain. “Serves me right.” The first step was putting her feet on the floor. It took more effort than it should have to make that happen.

“Meow.” Chester slapped a paw against her knee before jumping down and trotting toward the kitchen.

“You’re such an understanding soul.” But the cat did have the right idea. Food was low on her list of priorities, but coffee was at the top. That meant she had to move. Using the arm of the sofa for leverage, she stood. So far, so good. Raising her arms in the air, she stretched.

“Meow.”

“Give it a rest. I’m coming and you’re not in any danger of starving.” Gathering the jacket, she hugged it to her chest before draping it over the back of the sofa.

Chester was sitting by his empty bowl, an accusatory look on his furry face. With a shake of her head, she grabbed a container of dry food and dumped some in his dish. He attacked it like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. She scratched behind his ears. “I haven’t paid you much attention since everything fell apart, have I? You get the fancy wet food you like for supper.” He purred in acknowledgment.

He might be cantankerous, but Chester had joined her on the sofa at some point last night, his warm bulk pressed against her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“I need to get new pictures of you for the website and social media.” Customers loved them, and it gave her something to focus on besides her latest problems. “Maybe sketch some new cards for the upcoming holiday season.”

The ones she’d done had sold better than expected. She could do Chester sitting alongside a pumpkin or playing among fallen leaves, in front of a Christmas tree or pawing at a wrapped present. Seasonally themed cards. It would give her a product to sell year-round. She’d discovered she not only had a talent for the simple line drawings, but making them gave her an immense sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, something her old job had never done.

Maybe it seemed frivolous to be thinking about such things when she had a stalker breathing down her neck, but she refused to stop living. She’d allowed this nameless, faceless person to control her actions back in Chicago. While she had to be smart, she wasn’t putting her life on hold again. She was stronger than she’d been.

While the cat devoured breakfast, she set about making coffee. She’d slept way later than she’d intended. Not surprising considering it had been well after midnight when she finally drifted off. While she was grateful she couldn’t remember most of her dreams, they’d been filled with darkness and violence.

But there’d been a bright spot. Not a dream, exactly, more a snapshot featuring Samael Blackwell. It had felt so real, as if he’d been standing alongside her like a guardian angel. She’d awoken briefly, almost swearing she could smell him, but that was no more than his jacket. Still, it had been nice.

When the coffeemaker finished its work, she filled a mug and took it with her to the bathroom. Finished eating, Chester padded along beside her, supervising her through her entire morning routine. Washed and dressed and almost ready to face the day, she took her empty mug back to the kitchen for a refill.

A knock on her front door had her detouring. A tall, dark-skinned man with short black hair and wearing a local police uniform stood on her step. She didn’t know him like she did the other officers, but she did recognize him. From what she understood, he’d married a local woman and moved here about five years ago.

Officer Lamont Wilkins tipped his hat when she opened the door. For a man who’d spent part of the night patrolling outside her home, he looked far more alert than she did. “Morning, Ms. Sharp.”

“Good morning. And please, call me Adrianne. Would you like some coffee?” It was the least she could do. She held the door open and waved him inside.

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m expected at the station. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

Her stomach knotted, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “I’m perfectly fine.” When he hesitated, she added, “I’ll be careful and keep Grandpa’s shotgun close.”

“Keep your phone on you at all times. If you see or hear anything out of the ordinary, call us.”

“I will. And thank you.” They might be a small town, but she’d had more personalized police attention in the past twenty-four hours than during all her time in the city. Another reason she was glad she’d come home.

“Ma’am, go inside and call the station.” Lamont pulled his weapon and locked on the man walking down the long gravel driveway. “Stop right there.”

“It’s okay. That’s Sam Blackwell. The chief knows him.” He’d come back. Her heart skipped a beat before it took off at a rapid rate. He was dressed in the same jeans and boots as yesterday, but he’d dug up a new shirt somewhere. It was powder blue, not a color she would have expected him to wear, but it looked damn good on him. The fabric stretched taut against his chest and along his shoulders, emphasizing his impressive build.

Sam stood with his hands out in front of him to show he wasn’t armed. “Is it okay if I come forward?”

Lamont holstered his gun and nodded. “Sorry about that, Mr. Blackwell. I’m Officer Lamont Wilkins. Chief Johnson mentioned you.”

“No harm done. You’re doing your job.”

“I’ll be leaving now, if you’re sure you’re okay, Ms. Sharp.”

“Adrianne,” she automatically corrected. “And I’m fine.” Pulling her attention from Sam, she focused on Lamont. “Thank you again for watching over me.”

“My pleasure, Adrianne, and on my last check-in, the chief said to tell you he’d be out to talk with you later.” With that, he climbed into his police cruiser and drove away.

Squinting against the glare, she waved Sam forward. “Did you walk all the way out here in this heat?” He didn’t look as though he’d broken a sweat.

“It’s not that far.”

“There’s coffee, if you’d like some.”

His gait loose and easy, his long legs made short work of the distance between them. “I’ve already had two, but thanks.”

“I have water or lemonade or sweet tea.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

There was something different about him this morning. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He’d always been charismatic and confident, but it was as though he’d taken it up a notch. Or maybe she was sleep-deprived and imagining things. Unlike him, she’d only had one cup of coffee so far. “I need another, so come inside.”

She made a straight line for the kitchen. He seemed larger than life this morning, her awareness of him heightened. “Where did you stay last night?”

“I got a room at Ivy House.” He angled his head to one side, studying her. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Enough.” She shrugged. “Ivy House is a charming inn.”

“It is. Why don’t you grab what you need and we can drive into town? It’s late for breakfast and a tad early for lunch. We can call it brunch. I’ll buy this time.”

It was tempting, but she had responsibilities and a business to run. “I should probably stay here.” Work hadn’t disappeared because her life had been upended. “I have orders to fill and plants to check.” She kept her voice light, but she wasn’t fooling either of them. Adrianne enjoyed every aspect of the farm, but the idea of being out in the field on her own left her unsettled. It was too close to the area where they’d found the photos.

“If you let me buy you brunch, I’ll help you with your chores later.”

The idea of Sam doing manual labor made her smile. “You, Mr. Big Shot Businessman, getting your hands dirty?” She’d pay money to see that.

“You’d be surprised what I can do.” She wasn’t sure she would be. Sam radiated competence. She had no doubt he’d hold his own, whatever the situation. “What do you say?” His deep voice vibrated inside her.

She couldn’t avoid her problems forever, but she could give herself a respite and decide on a plan. That would be easier to accomplish if she wasn’t distracted by work and the crime scene not far from her back door.

She poured her untouched coffee down the sink and turned off the pot. “Let me get my purse.”

…

Every head turned in their direction when they walked into Susie’s Diner. Unlike yesterday, he had no doubt everyone now knew exactly who he was. Gossip flowed in small towns like money did in Vegas, and what was happening with Adrianne was prime fodder. He wouldn’t blame her if she decided to duck out. He should’ve known better.

Hands on her hips, she stared them all down. “I’m sure you’ve all heard rumors.” The whispering ceased. It was quiet, except for the hum of the equipment in the kitchen and the outside noise. Everyone inside had their attention riveted on Adrianne.

Sam pressed his hand against the small of her back. It was instinctual, a way to connect them, to make everyone aware she wasn’t alone.

“I’m also sure you’ve heard variations of the story, so here are the facts. I had a stalker in Chicago. No, the police there have no idea who it is.” Her chin went up a notch. “It’s why I didn’t come home while Granny was alive. I didn’t want to put her in danger.”

“Don’t mind putting the rest of us in danger, do you?”

Sam’s laser gaze landed on the woman leveling the accusation. Her strawberry-blond hair was cut like a pixie’s, accentuating her big blue eyes and perfect cheekbones. Her lips, painted a light pink, were pursed in a frown of disapproval. He gauged her height as average and her curves as exceptional.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Joley. None of my friends in Chicago had any problems.”

“We only have your word for that, don’t we?” Having made her point, she studied Sam like a starving cat would a piece of salmon. She toyed with the pendant around her neck, her fingers sliding slowly up and down the gold chain, making sure to bring attention to her cleavage.

“If you’re worried, one of your many beaux would be happy to protect you.” The comeback was fast and impressive. Sexy, too. Adrianne might have trouble, but she wasn’t backing down from anyone. There was some history here. Her sarcastic edge seemed to sail right over the other woman’s head.

She addressed the room at large. “Whoever this guy is, he’s fixated on me and somehow discovered this is my hometown. If you see suspicious strangers or anyone asking questions about me, pass the information on to Chief Johnson. That’s it.”

“What about him?” Joley pointed in his direction. “He’s a stranger.” Her lips turned up into a sultry smile, and she batted her eyelashes. Actually batted them. Sam bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing at her blatant attempt at flirting.

Adrianne jerked her finger toward him. “This is Sam Blackwell. He’s not a suspect.” With those few words, she’d removed any distrust about him. That would make it easier for him to get answers to any questions he might have going forward.

“That’s enough.” Susie came around the counter, making a shooing gesture with her hands. “Get on back to eating, all of you, and don’t be complaining if your food has gone cold. That’s your fault for being so dang nosy.”

She pointed Adrianne to the booth at the far end. “You two go on and sit. I’ll be right with you.”

Back straight, Adrianne walked across the room and slipped onto the seat with her back to the wall before he could claim it for himself. That allowed her to watch all the comings and goings. His view was limited to his periphery and what he could see through the window. Too bad, he would have liked to check out the reaction of the locals.

“That went better than expected.” She tucked her purse on the bench beside her and plucked a menu out from behind the napkin holder. “Not that it will make much difference. They’ll all talk. Some will disregard the truth and spread lies.”

“Like Joley.”

“Caught that, did you?”

Susie bustled up to the table, coffeepot in hand. “How’re you holding up, sweetie?” Keeping her actions and voice brisk, she filled their mugs.

“I’m okay. Thank you for asking.”

“If there’s anything I can do—”

Adrianne shook her head. “It’s best if no one else gets involved, but I appreciate the offer.” She pointed to the all-day breakfast menu. “I’m in the mood for the buttermilk pancakes and bacon.”

Taking the cue, Susie nodded. “You got it.” There was a smile on her face but worry in her eyes.

The dynamics of Adrianne’s relationships fascinated Sam. Joley’s blatant jealousy, the way the local police had rallied to protect her, Susie’s genuine concern. It was worlds away from what he was used to. He was guilty of keeping his relationships superficial to limit emotional involvement. There was none of that between her and the people around them.

When he’d been a boy, he hadn’t understood his father’s admiration for humans. They lived such a short time, barely a blink in the annals of time. He always remembered his father’s reply when he’d asked: “That’s why,” his father had told him. “Think of their achievements in the arts and sciences, in building and exploration. They accomplish more in a few decades than we do in eons. All their emotions are intensified. Their capacity to love is endless. On the flip side, so is their ability to hate. Their joy is sublime, their depression darker than a moonless night. They don’t have time to waste. They understand what it truly means to live.”

“Sam.” Adrianne leaned across the table and rested her hand on his forearm, bringing him out of his musings.

It wasn’t like him to lose focus. Far too conscious of her touch, he drew his arm back. Her hand slid away. “I’ll have the club sandwich and fries,” he told Susie, who looked from one to the other, nodded, and left.

“We don’t have to do this,” Adrianne said. “If you’re uncomfortable being under such scrutiny, I get it.” Her eyes were averted, her hands in her lap. “If you’d rather be alone, I can get mine to go. You can easily walk back to Ivy House from here.”

Damn it, his pulling away had hurt her. That hadn’t been his intention. It had been a protective mechanism. But then, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions was a saying for a reason. He reached across the table and cupped her face. Her head jerked back, breaking contact. It was tit for tat, even though it hadn’t been intentional on her part.

“We’re both a bit jumpy today.” It was important they remain together. It was time to start gathering information.

“Probably shouldn’t drink more coffee.” Worry still clouded her eyes. She tapped her fingers against the table, realized what she was doing, and placed them in her lap.

“How’d you sleep last night?” The cozy image of her covered in his jacket had followed him into his dreams. In his fantasy, she’d been wearing nothing at all beneath. He’d awakened, aching and sexually frustrated.

She fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I slept fine. New shirt?”

Her abrupt change of subject made him curious about what she was thinking. It was too much to hope she’d dreamed of him. If anything, she’d likely had nightmares about her stalker. “Got it this morning as soon as the shops opened.” There had been a limited selection in his size, but it was clean.

“I hate being the center of attention.” Like him, she kept her voice low, aware of the potential audience around them.

“And you have been for some time, both in Chicago and now here.”

She toyed with her spoon, ignoring the coffee. “Everyone at work watched and speculated. It was all in fun when they assumed I had a secret admirer. It got nastier when things escalated. The same thing will happen here. Difference is, I can’t pack up and leave this time. I could, I suppose, but even if I was willing to leave the farm, which I’m not, where would I go? Whoever is behind this found me here.”

“Curious, isn’t it?” He wished he could pick up the phone and get the top security firm in the world involved in her case, but that would be considered tampering. There was no doubt in his mind he’d no more be able to reach them than he had been his brothers. His powers might have been returned, but there were guidelines he was bound to until this assignment was done.

“What is?” She sipped her coffee, grimaced, and added sugar.

“How did the stalker find you?” If they could figure that out, they might be able to trace him. Maybe he couldn’t change Adrianne’s fate—her death had been decreed by the Fates—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t seek justice for her, make her murderer pay.

Assuming she was murdered. If he’d learned one thing over his long life, it was to not make assumptions. Maybe she would be involved in a car accident before her stalker found her. There were too many ways for her to die, and none he could stop.

The spoon in his hand bent in half as he crushed the metal. He shoved his hand beneath the table, grateful she was distracted by his question, and yanked the metal back into place. It was slightly crooked, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

“I don’t know. I never talked about where I was from.”

“Never? Not to a coworker? Maybe you accidentally let something slip.”

She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “They knew my only family was my granny, but I never mentioned where I was from.”

“Did they know her name?”

She closed her eyes, her forehead wrinkling. When she opened them, they were dark with despair. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I mentioned it. I wasn’t that active on social media before this started. After it did, I shut everything down and deleted all my accounts.”

“It may have been too little, too late.”

“That’s what Detective Ramirez said. According to him, criminals troll social media for information about targets.”

“Where did your final paperwork go? What about your furniture and belongings?” The need to find answers gnawed at him.

“My paperwork went to Detective Ramirez, and he forwarded it. He’s the only one who knew where I was going. I arranged for my personal belongings to be stored for a year. It’s paid up. If I hadn’t had any contact by then, it would be safe to have it shipped.” Her hand was pressed against her stomach, her features pinched.

He was being a selfish bastard pressing his agenda with little care for how it affected her. “I shouldn’t push. Let’s leave it for now.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I need to figure this out. There is no more time. Whoever this person is, they’re in Redemption.”

“You could leave.” The suggestion could be construed as trying to exert influence, but he was honestly curious why she hadn’t packed a bag and taken off. It would seem the wisest action.

“This is my home.” The way she said it stirred a longing in his heart. Shadowland was where he’d grown up, but he had no attachment to it. Since then, he’d lived all over the world, putting down roots nowhere.

“Is staying worth your life?” Her stalker had proven dedicated and determined in tracking her from Chicago. “Or is staying some form of penance because you weren’t there when your granny died?” Guilt was a huge motivating factor for humans. It wasn’t an emotion he had experience with.

The color leached from her face. “You don’t understand.”

He leaned forward, hands fisted in his lap to keep from reaching out to her. “Then explain it to me.”

“I couldn’t wait to shake off the farm dirt and escape to the city. I wanted the career, the money, the excitement.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I didn’t value what I had until it was too late. Granny loved the farm and worked hard her entire life to give me a good life. Taking care of it is my way of honoring her.”

“Would your granny value the farm more than your life?” A loud caw caught his attention from outside the window. Malaki was perched atop the hood of a bright-pink truck. It was a warning, loud and clear.

“That’s not fair. And where would I go? Somewhere I don’t know anyone? Somewhere I’m alone? I have no family. This is it for me.”

“Here you go.” Susie interrupted their conversation, slid their plates onto the table, and placed tall glasses of ice water in front of them. “Figured you could use more than coffee to wash it all down. I can get you something different if you’d like.”

“This is great.” Adrianne gave a forced smile and picked up her fork. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” It wasn’t his place to question her actions. As Malaki’s presence reminded him, his assignment was to escort her soul to the afterlife, no more, no less.

She shrugged. “It’s human nature to be curious. I guess if anyone has the right to question it’s you, all things considered.” She began to eat, effectively ending the conversation.

Sam ate methodically, barely tasting the delicious sandwich. The muted conversations of other diners and the scrape and clink of cutlery and dishes accentuated the silence between them.

Adrianne finished half of what was on her plate before pushing it aside. “There’s another way my stalker might have found me.”

He followed suit and pushed his plate away. “And that is?”

“One of those pictures of me was in my workplace. Maybe he worked in the building. Maybe he’s good with computers and hacked the ones at work. With my full information, it would be possible to trace back my work and life history.”

She wasn’t wrong. The explosion of computers in the past few decades had made information of all kinds available and put privacy at risk.

He was done talking about this surrounded by those hoping to catch a juicy tidbit of gossip. “Let’s get out of here.” He pulled some bills from his wallet and dumped them on the table.

Without a word, she grabbed her purse, slipped out of the seat, and headed for the door.