Summer blew in early that year, the hot breath of a lion. With that fire, the sun baked the city in a veritable brimstone furnace. Toes sweated in shoes while clothes clung tight with dampness. Holly entered a corner dive with Rani, a diner from television's heyday. The air conditioning blasted them, offering relief. The chill was a nice respite, as they couldn't afford even a window unit. Their fans did little more than buffet the hot air around.

"I'll get us a booth," Holly mumbled as Rani sought the restroom.

The person they came to meet was yet to arrive, though he worked at the church just up the street. Holly tucked herself into one of the booths lining the glass windows, the farthest back, for privacy. A waitress responded by washing down the table. Burned tobacco lingered in her clothes and skin. Holly frowned. The smell reminded her of a man who used to let her take cigarettes from his pack. She missed the way they made her feel mature, as if in control. So, now, she craved them, longing for those feelings. The woman tossed Holly some menus, smacking her gum. Holly stared at the laminated cards, startled by their suddenness.

Father Gallo entered amid the tinkle of the diner's door bell. He smiled at Holly, waving his hand, before advancing in her direction. Removing his worn baseball cap, the father took his seat with the grace of a man many years younger. He squeezed her hand when he asked how she had been. He smelled like his church, and the cigarette spell dissipated. Holly tried to smile but gave no real answer. Before he said another word, Rani returned, distracting them both.

Holly's roommate returned the priest's salutation, but picked up a menu disengaging, appearing annoyed to be there, although it might have been the hot walk they endured to get there. The waitress took their orders, delaying any discussion further. When she left, Holly noted that she wore the same weird expression on her face as before, as if she were angry at them. That was easy enough to dismiss, with everyone in a derelict mood at the weather. Holly focused on a television in the corner, waiting for the moment to speak to come back around. Her shoulders relaxed. There was a sports channel on, inaudible, but there was a very low likelihood that Jett might appear to ruin her day. Avoiding certain spaces or television channels saved her a great deal of misery, but not all newsstands or people could be silenced.

"Look at the waitress. What do you see?" Father Gallo whispered.

Both did, then quickly glanced away when their eyes were met by the subject's. Rani mumbled under her breath about the outdated coif. Holly stifled a laugh, unusually tickled by the catty response. Tears sprung into her eyes. Her body and mind were confused by the rush of emotion, which should have registered as joy, but twisted to sorrow. These days most feelings became tears.

"No. Aside from that." Gallo chuckled.

Holly dared to look when the waitress returned with drinks. A small creature followed behind her. Sekiel waved his staff then pounded it against the shade's head. The woman was guarded by what appeared to be a demon, and one who dared to get close to them, despite their guardians. Holly frowned. The waitress set their drinks down, startling her patrons. She mentioned that their food would be right out, making it increasingly clear she disliked them by expression and tone. Holly barely heard a word, as the shade shook its fist while it cursed Sekiel, only taking a retreat when his charge did.

"What was that?" Holly asked when they were alone again.

"A soldier. They call that breed gremlin or Daeva. They come from the Grail race," Gallo replied.

"Grail race?"

Holly then noticed another coming to the first's rescue. The second creature had far different features than the other. Mostly, it billowed like a smoke stack. They taunted Sekiel, but he didn't leave his post, standing by the booth, his back to a narrow bit of wall with pictures of famous people on it.

"Are they both soldiers?"

"Yes. Soldiers come in varying species, not one less troublesome than the next. That other one is called a smoker, what used to be a jinn." Gallo sipped his soda.

"Like a genie?"

Father Gallo made a face. They were the creatures that gave rise to the myth, but there were no wishes they could grant with a sharp nod or blink.

Holly turned her eyes to the table. The monsters looked to her now, attracted by her light.

"Red erela."

"Captain," the other mocked.

"Pitiful moon cub."

They laughed harder.

"How do they know me?" Holly asked.

"You're well known." Gallo smiled, taking her trembling hand.

"At least I am somewhere." Holly grumbled.

"What do you see? I don't see anything. Oh, my god, what is that smell? I think someone farted," Rani whispered.

Gallo snickered, but Rani quickly remembered herself, mortified at saying such a thing in front of the priest. She muttered an apology, which Gallo dismissed, but her face deepened with red no more assured. They all grew uncomfortable with the increasing potency of the odor. Though, Rani couldn't see them, she knew her friends really could. She gathered that the smell came from the invisible devils. Her anxiety heightened. Sekiel set his hand upon her shoulder, undetected by his assign, except for the reassurance with which the gesture instilled her.

"How are your dreams?" Gallo asked Holly, redirecting their conversation before another thing derailed them.

"I've seen my council, I think. They we're older—people who wore black robes—seven of them—four women and three men. They asked me to work for them, to help remove threats from this world. Forgive me—they reminded me of priests, but I didn't trust them. I agreed, though. I agreed to help," Holly said, pausing with her doubts. "There was one, a woman, much younger than the others. She had familiar eyes and I felt like I could trust her, but some part of me pinged—I can't explain it," Holly answered.

Gallo nodded. He understood like no one else could. Girded by this support, Holly continued her tale.

The council met her inside her grandmother's house. That house was a real place, but the meeting took place in a fabrication of it. Something was slightly off about the structure, maybe the room space. She contemplated the serious faces and dark robes. Not trusting them may have been a matter of not liking them. The blame for her situation was securely in their lap. They ignored her requests for assistance, while they allowed her to be harmed, with cool dismissals of her suffering. They were disinterested in hearing her assessment of their actions, too. Her opinion was given no weight. Thus, they remained immovable and she remained frustrated. The council was lucky she cooperated at all. Holly wondered what they would have said if she refused. Because of her reluctance to defy the council's authority, she was pinned under its thumb. They were supposed to know better than her. She had yet to see such, but something in her gut told her to do as they requested this particular time, with unflinching acceptance.

"After that, I've had several strange dreams over the past couple of weeks. One was of a witch in a warehouse. I've never been so scared in my life. I tried to push myself through a stack of pallets until Joel came. Other nights, I fall into the ocean, unable to remember where I'm going. A panicked sense of urgency paralyzes me and I drown."

Gallo sympathized, gesturing for her to go on.

"Last night, I saw Zacharius. I was asked to remove a demon who embedded himself as the power behind a dark coven. The head witch opened the others to him, and wasn't at all pleased to find me there to stop him. Anyway, I faced it. Here's this thing floating at the end of a weird little hallway, black robes over bleached bones. When it spotted me—I've never heard a sound like that. I should've been scared, but instead—I was excited. I drew my sword, but then, next, my brother had him on a chain like a dog, saying he'd take it from there," Holly explained.

"Zacharius is a fine alder, no doubt your liaison to your council. None better either," Gallo said before taking a drink.

"I warned him that they bite. He stomped its bony fingers. The creature whimpered like a dog. His response was to say it better not. It's the most emotion I've seen him express since Jett crossed him." Holly grinned.

"Wraiths are nasty. The Naiades who fall to become that—I don't blame your brother's caution," Gallo said.

The waitress returned, ending their conversation.

"BLT, chicken fingers'n fries, grilled cheese with tomato soup," the waitress said, setting the plates before each owner.

"So, what can she do about them?" Rani asked, taking a bite of her grilled cheese.

Holly salted her fries and then poked a chicken finger in some barbecue sauce. She pushed the mustard aside, disgusted by its color, too close to demon blood.

"Trust them. They may not appear to know what they're doing right now, but in time all will be revealed. Then you'll see," Gallo said, biting his sandwich.

To Holly, this was all too familiar. Reluctant to take the wise advice of someone who was outside of the situation, she coached herself into it. Gallo meant well. He wasn't exactly outside the situation. So, he certainly did not speak via wishful thinking. What bothered her was trusting those she didn't know, only to later find out they were against her best interest. They acted as though she had all eternity to finish her goals, as though there was no rush despite her aging. She looked at the clock. Another hour had gone by. It was another hour in which she floundered in search of answers only to find none. She supposed that understanding the concept of time was difficult for them, considering their immortality. Then again, her perceptions were limited by her viewpoints. It was just as likely that they lied about who they were, and she took a ticket straight to hell.

The trio finished their meals, despite the pair of nefarious guardians. Holly asked for something in which to wrap her last chicken finger. Rani's cat was the lucky recipient. It was a reward for his courageous protection against what they learned were imps—small shades formed from the angst of a soul. They reminded her of little old elves. The idea of their existence scared her at first, but Rani's cat had managed to dissipate most of them before they had a chance to form, batting them with quick paws or puncturing them with sharp teeth. Unfortunately, his efforts might be shortening his life. Since the imps' appearance, his health had declined.

"Thank you for lunch, Father Gallo," Holly said.

The street outside had become very busy. Cars drove by. Horns honked. The air was oppressive enough to make the windows sweat. Moods were in the dumps. Holly didn't want to leave the cold diner.

"My pleasure. After all, it helps me to keep an eye on you," Gallo said.

"I haven't told you everything," Holly mumbled, grasping his hand before he stood.

"What is it, dear girl?"

"Jett called. He wanted to see me," Holly replied.

"And just before his wedding," Gallo growled.

"I hung up on him—I said no."

"The decent thing to do, for everyone, I mean."

"I need to confess something worse to you," Holly said.

Rani's gaze shifted between her companions. Her unrequited crush was about to crash to the ground like Holly's had so many times before. Holly ran a hand through her hair. Guilt crept about her features. Her shoulders tightened. Gallo took her hand in his. He patted her small fingers careful to encourage by his warmth, but avoid patronizing her. Holly guessed that he already knew, but she needed to say this out loud.

"Reyes and I, it's been happening for a long time, I guess. Two sides of a damaged coin."

"You slept with Reyes?" Rani gasped.

"I'm sorry. I know how you felt about him, but I can't help that we are drawn to each other. This was also his decision—now, I just sound like Jett."

Rani's eyes shone with the betrayal she felt at this. She drank the last of her soda to swallow her feelings. Holly's shoulders sunk. She never meant to hurt her friend.

"I know he never liked me that way. He always liked you best," she said, barely concealing the knife's edge of her voice.

"That's no excuse."

"Look—I'm just glad you're not with that asshole anymore. If Reyes loves you—all I can say is that you deserve to be loved," Rani said, crossing her arms.

"No love loss between dear friends, my girls. Your fate is yet ahead of you, Rani. A good one it will be. No less glowing."

Gallo pressed their hands together. The girls gave each other a small smile to conquer any hard feelings.

"Shall we go to the library now?" he asked.

Holly nodded.

Gallo hailed a cab and popped the door for them. He climbed in to the front seat next to the driver who then whisked them off to Fifth Avenue. The father had clearance to special works kept from the public. It seemed that others had similar experience to hers and wrote about it through the centuries. The information she sought might be found there, not so much in the books she previously read, which were accessible to anyone. Gallo's grasp of other languages, including Latin, Aramaic, and Sanskrit were priceless to such research. His promise that they too would learn it was unbelievable but exciting.

"By the time we are done, you'll qualify for several degrees—philosophy, history, classics, Sanskrit, the sciences, and theory, not to mention theology and fringe science," Father Gallo grinned.

"Father Gallo," Holly called to him. He looked over his shoulder, continuing up the library steps. "What if we can't turn him back? Won't he become more dangerous?"

"That is precisely why we're here. Cover all bases. You must be armed with every advantage—however it comes out."

Gallo led them along the gray shelves in the bowels of the library. The staff was aware of their arrival, as he had arranged the entire expedition the moment they agreed to join him. For their cover, they were researchers from the University of Edinburgh, helping him to write a book on parapsychology, religion, and physics. Holly's brows knitted together as her eyes swept the documents that declared their enrollment in programs from overseas. The librarians were very helpful, getting their passes and upgrading their cards. Holly stared at the identification card while they were allowed into the restricted area. The instruction continued.

Gallo patiently waited for the librarian to leave them. The door was closed and they faced a stack of pre-picked books. Holly wondered where the archive of restricted manuscripts was located, and when they would get to take a look.

"Are you ready to spend every weekend buried in dead languages and strange phenomena?" Gallo asked.

"You haven't explained—those papers back there said we're students at Edinburgh," Holly said. She waited for his answer but was met with silence. "Are we deceiving them to get this material?"

"Not deceiving them. You are in fact enrolled in the programs. I ask that you don't ask any more questions until it's time to divulge how or why. Is that acceptable?"

The girls reluctantly agreed.

"Very good. Now, we should get started."

"How are we supposed to read any of it?" Rani asked, still stuck on the languages.

"These are for you." Gallo gestured towards the manuscripts on the table.

Holly neared. The readings were on physics or paranormal subjects. Psychology took up the remainder. Holly gathered that the father planned to make translations while they caught up on the latest science. Her mouth went dry remembering her math classes. Pain throbbed from her shoulders into her neck and over the back of her skull.

Gallo noticed her hesitation.

"I can't do this," Holly said.

"I failed Spanish in high school," Rani seconded, trying to save herself this work, too.

"Of course, you can," he insisted.

"You don't understand. It's not that I don't want to—I really can't. Like Rani said, some things are beyond our control."

"I'm not following you," Gallo said.

"Physics," Holly said with a smirk. She lifted a book to show him. "I can't do complicated math. Rani isn't a language genius."

"I barely passed English," Rani admitted.

Gallo stared, confused by her disclosure. Rani assured him she was serious about her shortcomings. Gallo shook his head. Then, he chuckled.

"Is that all?"

"What do you mean, 'is that all?' It's not like you can just flip a switch to make us geniuses. The brain just doesn't work that way. Whatever synapses required are probably dead or malfunctioning," Holly said, rattled.

"Speak for yourself," Rani interjected.

Gallo waved off Holly's excuses. He smiled, watching her for a moment. Raising a finger, he had them wait while he dug up the perfect book to start them on their reading journey. After exclaiming a ha! he came back with the tome, a ratty book on its second rebinding, about the brain, psychology, and the para-sciences attributed to gray matter.

"Start here," Gallo said.

"Father Gallo." Holly sighed.

"No arguments. When you think you understand what it is telling you, we will continue this conversation. Now, there are refreshments in the room down the hall. They don't want food in here. Bathrooms are along the opposite passage. I'm going to begin my research in the restricted section. Paper and pen—note the book and page. We have discussions once a month, so be prepared. Quarterly, I will take a review of what you have read so far, written of course, to send back to those handling your programs in Edinburgh," Gallo said, handing them the books, paper and pens.

Holly took the things Gallo offered. She found a seat and watched Rani accept a copy of the same book. Gallo turned from them, disappearing through the door at the back of the room. Holly looked to her roommate. Rani pretended to read the title page, still rejecting the task. She never liked the subject matter, likely there only to fulfill an obligation to Holly.

"What are you thinking?" Holly asked, knowing better. The answer was certain to be loaded.

"We're in over our heads. I didn't think I'd be getting my PhD to master these things."

Holly opened the book, skimming the first paragraph of the introduction.

"I don't know. Father Gallo—knows things. He had these titles picked. Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't said we're being charged, and can you imagine the good those degrees will do us? I just can't fathom how this is being done," Holly said.

Rani looked to her. Doubt shuttered her up. Faith in her friends had always been tenuous, leading to Holly's own distrust. There was nothing to test or for her to grab on to. Her sight was poor, but then she wasn't alone in that. When Holly wished to be normal that was what she meant, not to be alone in her abilities. Holly's mind wandered back to the beginning of her ordeal. To be back there and have the chance to start over would be a better gift than all the knowledge in the world.

"I believe you, Holly. I've seen things that would scare the crap out of veterans. If Father Gallo thinks this will help, then I agree. Let's get to work," Rani said, settling her friend's fears.

Holly set the book down then went to her, giving her a tight hug.

"Thank you," Holly said.

Days passed, each the mirror of the last, edging closer to the day Jett set Dominic's future in stone. The summer deepened, growing warmer day and night. The pile of books lessened little; it seemed as though an invisible hand added to it while they slept. Once the biological aspects of the brain and physiology were under their belt, they moved onto psychology. When that was complete they would move onto the first of the physics manuals. The pure, overwhelming feat of the task exhausted them both. Gallo was unfailing in his encouragement. However, encouragement only made the students afraid to disappoint their teacher.

Holly set down the most current book. She yawned. Nothing from the last five pages sunk in. If they didn't take a break, their studying would be pointless. Besides, Gallo couldn't have meant them to absorb the material to perfection in just a few weeks.

"Let's go out tonight—like we used to," Holly suggested, checking her watch.

Rani exhaled, "I thought you'd never ask."

Holly quickly scrawled a note, which she left on the books. Gallo wouldn't come out of the archives room for hours, well after dark when the library closed. Grabbing their bags, they escaped the confines of the basement in search of dinner and some distraction.

Manhattan had thousands of places to sate one's hunger, hundreds of places to work out frustrations. Holly stood against an aluminum rail, staring at a clock straight from Wonderland. It ticked away with squiggly arms pointing to bent numbers. The ticking was in her imagination, muted by the beats of the music. Things hadn't changed in that place in the six years since she first set foot there, except that she was able to legally buy a drink now. It still stunk of cigarettes, both the legal and illegal kind, and the sticky sweet smell of long since spilled drinks. The smoke machine below bellowed a cloud that added a candy scent on top of it all. Holly held the rail, feeling a little sick. This perch above the dance floor was giving her fogged brain a bit of vertigo.

"Holly?" a voice called, as she stared at the glass in her hand forgetting how many she'd had.

Rani was in the lady's room, leaving Holly vulnerable to whatever drunk spotted her. Holly faced the voice. Her eyes settled on a tall man with dark eyes and a shaved head. She was drunk, but certainly not to the point of hallucinating. Indeed, it was the real Brady Zaworski. She stammered, amazed to see him again. The alcohol fuzz dispelled from her brain. She thought this would never happen, at least she hoped. Fate, though, was a cruel trickster who liked to meet her challenges.

"My god! Look at you! You've grown up. You look fabulous," he said, taking her arm to spin her.

"Brady—uh—yes. It's been over five years. How have you been?"

"Not bad. I'm guessing you heard about my divorce? Just as well," he trailed off, but then came back from wherever his words took him with a great big grin. He was drunk, too. "When I last saw you, I was on my way out of it, anyway—wait—I'll stop being a downer. The good news is that I met this great girl last year, she's here. Hey, I'd love you to meet her," Brady said.

Holly smiled, relieved. Information like what he shared always had a strange way of finding her. Back when she read the headline, she knew it was inevitable. Brady's pursuit of Holly had no other possible outcome. Unlike Jett, Brady was just not that lucky to have women forgive him his big mistakes.

"How's the writing going? So glad you got away from Colburn. That guy's bad news. I can't believe how much they play him up in the press," Brady said, leaning over the rail. "Can you believe he's getting married? How long can that last? I'm just surprised we haven't heard more about police—you know?"

Holly leaned with him, the tragedy of his words falling all over her face. She wondered how he knew she was no longer with Jett; not that it mattered. She stood there alone, an obvious indicator, but then again, Jett never took her anywhere public. Brady must have known the man's tendencies to be with more than one woman at any given time. His call all those years back would've helped her to avoid this sooner. She shook her head, lips curving into a rueful grin. Too bad good-looking didn't ensure good-hearted.

"I can imagine quite some time with his luck," Holly said. They exchanged knowing smiles. Holly sighed, and added solemnly, "Thank you for the call. I just wish I had listened."

Brady shrugged. No one listened when they were in love.

"How'd you get out from under him...sorry! No pun intended." Brady grinned; it was a broad, clownish expression that reminded her she had made the right decision leaving him in her past. His passive aggressive nature would have pushed her over the edge.

Brady absolutely meant the inference. He had been hurt by the way they broke up—as if he had a right to be, considering how he treated both his wife and her. Holly let out a soft laugh, thanking the powers that be for dodging this bullet. It might not have been fists, but it was still abusive.

"No. It's all right. It really felt like that sometimes," Holly said. She paused, thinking of how to say what went on without giving up too much or looking bitter for his delight. "I think I had enough of the torture—not knowing what was next or who."

"Did he hit you?" Brady asked.

Holly clasped her hands and looked down at the crowd dancing. She hoped to leave it in the past, yet the topic just refused to lie still in its grave. Coming to terms started with acknowledging what had happened. She just wished for a little more time to get a little bit stronger.

"I shouldn't pry, I just heard things—about other women."

"Yeah, he did. Among other things," Holly answered, knowing he did mean to pry so he could feel better about losing her to Jett. To know she had been punished for it.

Her words spoken out loud didn't hurt as much as Holly thought they would. Of course, she didn't come out and say the exact words. The extrapolation was clear though. Brady eyed her with something like remorse crossing his eyes. He drank from his glass, avoiding saying more. She could tell he already regretted his underhanded comments. He turned his attention to that crazy clock as silence pressed upon them, very much sensed, despite the loud music. He brushed her arm with his knuckle, leaning close.

"You haven't stopped writing, I hope," Brady said.

Holly shook her head. Now it hurt. He looked at her with pity, making it too real.

"Good. Don't let a piece of shit like that ruin you. That would just help him win."

Brady leaned over the rail again. The uncomfortable knowledge hung between them like a rotting fish. He sipped his drink and watched the people dance. He grew up too, Holly realized, noting his profile. The way he watched people was different. No slinky chicks in too-short dresses stopped to wave. Even his cologne changed. Holly smiled to herself.

"I'm sorry."

"For?" he asked, not looking to her.

"For not sitting down to have a talk with you. For thinking you were the monster when it was him," Holly said.

Brady chuckled, shaking his head.

"I was a monster. I had no business chasing you. You were just a kid," Brady said.

Holly nodded in full agreement with the last bit, but he was no monster. A talk between them would've cleared that up years ago to put them on the right standing. Brady wasn't an animal, just a man with flaws like anyone else. Once he had her, he would've either married her or let her fade away to the past. Either way, the scars would be fewer. Regrets made her so cold. She folded her arms. It was just another waste of time due to her poor judgment.

"I wish it'd been different—not between you or I, but with him. I wish he was a better man. He didn't deserve you," Brady said.

"Brady—darling" A brunette slid up next to him, wearing leather pants and a glittering sleeveless top collared about her throat.

"Hey, babe. This is my old friend Holly. Holly this is Kristina."

Kristina's eyes were black like ebony. They sparkled with loathing. Holly shook the woman's hand and smiled anyway. She was pretty and practiced in the game of putting on fake smiles. Kristina, despite her great cheekbones and killer figure, worried that another hen looked to lay her rooster. Such was the model's life, dating actors who had their choice of tail.

"It was great to see you. We should catch up sometime. Here's my card. If you need anything—send over some of your work. See what we can do for you," Brady said, patting her arm then escorting his girlfriend away before she jabbed Holly with one of her stick arms.

"Brady, who was that cow?" his girlfriend asked in a telling tone, inflected with a vaguely foreign accent.

"She's a friend. Don't call her that," Brady mumbled.

"Was that who I think it was?" Rani asked behind her.

Holly faced her, screwing up her face in confirmation.

"Let's get out of here—go somewhere else," Holly said, hoping they wouldn't run into Jett that night as well. "I could use a cheeseburger."

Holly tossed the business card over the rail. Some guys invited you over just to get you alone. Brady changed, but he didn't change that much.