Rem was fast, agile, and silent as she trailed after the demon, keeping not only her energy trail, but also her scent masked. She’d learned from Kline that demons could smell fear and trauma, two things she was careful to keep hidden. She may not be afraid, but trauma was a totally different issue. A tendril of curly red hair escaped her hood and fell over her eyes but she didn’t bother to move it. She was too focused on her target, carefully mapping out the route he was taking, knowing Jin and Mu-Keniah were doing the same with the targets they were following.

They had one job, only one: pursue but don’t engage. Coby needed to know where Sy-Ohna was, how many men he had, and what his attack strategy was. It was up to her, Jin, and Mu-Keniah to determine the first two parts. Hemi was to find out the last part by following his target directly into the building while the other three stayed outside. Rem hadn’t been too particularly thrilled about that, since stealth and espionage were something she was well versed in. Hemi was good at it, too, but he was more of a fighter and stood out more.

Yet she never even noticed when he ran under her, making no sound through the dead grass as he followed the elf he was pursuing. Rem stayed in the trees and ran over rooftops, never taking her eyes off the demon. When he stopped, she jumped higher into a tree, secreting herself behind a thick wall of branches and multi-colored leaves, doing her best to ensure that whatever sound she did make would be mistaken for a breeze.

She watched the demon for a long minute as he checked the lit up screen of his phone, his thumbs moving quickly. Even in the darkness, she could see the frown pinch his face, his amber eyes glowing beacons in his face as they moved forward and back. 

Rem’s breath caught in her throat. Had he spotted her? Smelled her? Shit…

“Don’t move.”

The low, soft voice at her ear nearly made her fall from the tree. She whipped her head to the side to see a dark shape materialize next to her out of the branches, and she released a soft exhale of relief at who it was, her mask hiding the curse words she mouthed.

“Sorry,” Mika said, his dark eyes on the demon below them. “He was texting to verify the location.”

Rem furrowed her brow. “You can see that from here?”

His lips quirked in a grin. “I have ridiculously good eye sight,” he said. He nodded at the demon. “They changed the meetup at the last minute, apparently.”

“That’s unusual,” Rem muttered.

Mika shook his head slightly. “That’s paranoia,” he said. “Sy-Ohna must have heard something and it spooked him. It works in our favor because it means they’re getting nervous and will make a mistake. If that’s true, we might be able to end this before it even begins.”

Rem shook her head. “No, Sy-Ohna is too intelligent for that. He may have allowed Tulle to lead him down blind alleys because he was angry, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been formulating a meticulous plan the entire time.”

Something in her voice caught Mika’s attention. He slid his gaze to her, noticing the sudden hardness that filled her bright blue eyes. 

“Did—”

“He’s moving.” 

Mika turned his attention back to the demon, the creature having moved off to the left to a wide side-street that was sparsely populated. He didn’t hesitate, following quickly after the young mermaid as they shadowed their target. It wasn’t long before the demon finally arrived at a large two story house at the end of the street, rundown and seemingly abandoned. Mika frowned.

“I know this place,” he muttered. He and Rem ducked behind another nearby empty house, the shuffling of their clothes masked by a sudden breeze that, thankfully, blew their scents in a separate direction from their target house.

“How?” Rem asked quietly at his elbow. The hood of her thick coat fell back slightly, exposing her wild red hair. He tugged it forward before the moonlight gave her away.

“It’s a popular party spot for college kids. This whole street is, in fact.” He motioned to the other side of the street at a building that looked like a nightclub that had been shut down. “Call it Greek Row if you want, but really it’s just an old abandoned suburban street used to get drunk, high, and laid.” A movement north of the house caught his attention. Jin and Mu-Kineah had already arrived, and Hemi was making his way around the back of the house, likely looking for a way in where he wouldn’t be spotted.

Rem turned her gaze up at him, piercing him with a solid stare. He shifted uncomfortably. “I did the first two,” he muttered. She didn’t look away, the stare unblinking. That wasn’t the information she was hunting for, and he quickly realized that. 

Mika straightened as he watched the demon enter the house. Something on the wall caught his eye and he swore. He met Rem’s now questioning gaze and he sighed, leaning against the wall. She stood in front of him, arms at her sides, waiting for what Mika knew.

Mika swallowed hard, his gaze averted, his hands shoved into his coat. “Ash and Scott came here a lot back when they first started dating,” he said quietly. “That house was where Ash told Scott he loved him for the first time.”

Rem’s eyes flashed but Mika shook his head before she could say anything.

“It was a long time ago, Rem,” he said. “Plus, he was drunk as fuck, and I don’t think he ever really believed it himself. I heard him tell that bastard several times he loved him but…” he shook his head. “Subconsciously, Ash always knew he didn’t. It wasn’t there in his eyes.” 

Rem’s head tilted slightly, catching something in Mika’s tone the Immortal had failed to mask.

“You know what it is to feel real love,” she said. It wasn’t a question. 

He closed his eyes, a flash of pain crossing his features. 

“You still feel it.”

Mika’s head fell against the wall and he opened his eyes, letting his sorrow-filled gaze fall on her. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

So much was said in just that one word, all of it wrapping around Rem’s heart like a sleeve. For the briefest of moments, she had thought maybe he liked her, that she could like him, even considered the idea of dating him if he asked, even if he was a bit older. Regardless, somehow she didn’t feel hurt by this tiny unspoken admission. It wasn’t like he had been leading her on, anyway. He’d been kind to her, flirty at times, but he’d never given any impression that he was fully interested.

Nor had she given him any reason to pursue her. They hadn’t known each other very long, anyway, but still it was enough time to know that even if they weren’t mates, she still liked him, even trusted him, as a friend.

Her full lips lifted in a small smile. “You’ve not wounded me, Mika,” she reassured him. 

His features relaxed and he lifted his head off the wall. 

“Plus, if I heard Kline correctly, I’m too young for you.”

Mika had to stifle a snort, covering his grin. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “By quite a bit, actually.”

“How much?” She figured he couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty, but with him being part of an immortal race, she couldn’t say for sure. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Roughly sixty years, give or take,” he said with an embarrassed grin. “We’re good at making ourselves look a lot younger than we are.”

She giggled softly. “Yes, I see that. Does that go for all immortal races? Divine included?”

Mika nodded. “Yeah, once we turn twenty-one, we have the option to allow ourselves to age or…” his voice trailed off as a realization dawned on him. A memory, in fact. He looked around the corner of the house for a moment, drawing a look of confusion from Rem.

“What is it?” she asked, glancing back at Sy-Ohna’s hideout. A movement in the shadows told her one of her cohorts was already heading back to the warehouse where they were to meet up with the others.

Mika turned back around, his gaze on the ground, his face pale, his lips moving but no words or sounds coming from them.

“Mika?”

His gaze jumped up and his mouth shut, his throat working. “He’s not twenty,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

“Who isn’t?” Rem’s brow furrowed, her irritation growing at the number of questions the Immortal was giving her, removing all context and sense. “Mika, what is the problem?”

Mika wasn’t just considering the angel’s actual age, it was something else he’d noticed but had never given much thought to until recently. Maybe it was because he had been too preoccupied with his own bullshit, or maybe it was because he didn’t want to see what was right in front of him, in front of all of them, but the implications of it were enough to make him want to vomit.

“Rem, do you trust me?” he asked suddenly. “At least, do you trust me not to lie to you?”

“About something other than to do with yourself?”

He jerked, his stomach flipping. “How—” 

“A Sarathian is taught to notice things others are not,” she stated simply. “I’ve known you to be false with us since the moment we met, but as there was no malicious intent, I did not deem it necessary to expose you.”

He blinked. He hoped, really hoped, this friendship actually lasted. 

“What about Colin?”

Her eyes darkened. “I do not trust him, nor do I like him.” Her head tilted. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” he said, his dark eyes turning to, and remaining amber, his pupils narrow slits. “The last few times I came here with Kline, Colin was here, too. But not with Alise.”

Rem stiffened.

“He was with Scott.”

**