She frowned at him. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I would have taken care of him.”

Okay, never mind then. “So what was his deal?” he asked once they entered the training room. They had some time to kill before Remy and Rafe returned.

Lily shrugged as she walked away. “He’s an ass. You said it yourself.”

He followed her. “Most men don’t call a woman a whore for no reason.”

Her expression soured. “Um, thanks.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He stepped around the dummies he practiced stabbing techniques on. “He’s obviously got a problem with you.”

She picked up a wicked-looking blade. “It’s really none of your business.” She shoved the blade at him, handle first. Thank God. “Get to ripping and tearing.”

He flipped the blade in his hand. “So…what you got going on later?”

She stopped midstep. “What?”

“I’m asking what you’re doing later. Hunting? Clubbing?” he asked. “Whatever it is you Nephilim do when I’m locked in my cell—oh, I mean bedroom.”

Sighing, she gave him a dismissive wave. “Practice.”

He made a face at her rigid back. “I’m trying to make chitchat.” He sliced at the dummy. The synthetic skin was disturbingly lifelike. It split like butter.

“Please stop.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice,” he chided.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to shut up.”

“Jesus!” He threw the blade into the dummy. It sank deep into the fake flesh, the handle vibrating from the impact. “I’m trying to have a freaking conversation with you! You know, a normal one people have every day. Hey, how are you and all that shit. Is that so hard?”

She raised one delicate brow.

He now felt like flipping her off, but that would make him a hypocrite. With a disgruntled groan, he turned away. “You know, since I’ve been here I haven’t spoken to a single person outside. My cell doesn’t work here. Can’t get service anywhere I go in this damn place.”

“It won’t,” she answered.

He twisted around. She stood with her arms crossed. “Yeah, I figured that out.” He plucked the blade from the dummy. It made a gross sucking noise. He stabbed it again. “You know, I don’t even know if I will ever be allowed to leave here.”

“You will.”

“And if I do, will I have any friends? Will I even be able to have friends? How can I when I’m this…Nephilim?”

“You don’t need friends,” she responded bluntly. “You have us. That’s all you need.” Her face pinched.

“Yeah, you guys are my friends? I don’t think so.” He took another jab at the poor dummy. “You go and have drinks with friends. You actually hold conversations with them.”

“Did you have many friends?”

Michael stopped. Besides that being a very odd question to ask, he wasn’t sure how to answer it. He considered Cole a friend. There were a few guys on the force he considered buddies. A few women who were a little more than friends, but none he would call to just hang out with.

“I had friends,” he answered finally.

Lily shuffled closer. “I’ve never had a friend outside of the Sanctuary.” She held her palm out. He handed her the blade. “Everyone I know lives here…or has.” She twisted her wrist, showing him how to correctly hold the blade. “It will be hard for you to maintain your friendships.”

Afraid of responding and having her shut down or insult him, he remained quiet as she handed the blade back to him. He held it correctly this time.

“The minions are a tricky bunch. If they spot you with a human, they’ll use them against you. The humans we have here take a huge risk. I guess it’s the money and intrigue that keeps them here.” She shrugged. “Minions can’t come here or anywhere near here. The tunnels that run under half of Federal Triangle have been blessed and consecrated. It helps protect the humans coming and going. Holy ground and all—the minions hate it.”

He hadn’t known that, but it made sense. It also made him want to laugh, because all he could think was how utterly stereotypical.

“Anyway, you have to be careful with your friends, or you’ll probably see them die.”

Michael’s eyes widened. Nice. He made another swipe at the dummy. Holding the blade correctly seemed to make a more effective cut. Huh, go figure. “So you said I wouldn’t be forced to stay here. When will I get to leave?”

“You’ll begin hunting as soon as we think you’re more of an asset than a liability. At first you will hunt in pairs or more. From there, you decide if you want to stay here or risk it on your own.”

“You do that.”

She shrugged. “You know…I’ve checked into your past.”

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I’m nosy,” she admitted. “I couldn’t find anything remarkable about you.”

“Well, thanks.” He paused. “So you’ve been snooping?”

“Yes.” She didn’t look at all bothered by it.

“So what did you find out?”

“Your mom was a devout Christian who taught handicapped children. You went to church every Wednesday and Sunday. She taught Sunday school.”

Michael stilled. There was nothing to say.

She continued blithely. “After her death, you were sent into foster care. Anyway, you excelled in sports. Played football and basketball—you were better at football. You dated the high school prom queen. May I add that is totally cliché?”

“Yeah,” he said. It was a little unnerving to hear someone tick away his life.

“You went to college and obtained a degree in finance. Boring. Then you got your master’s. Even more boring. Went off to work for some firm that paid you beaucoup bucks. Had some life-changing epiphany that made you decide to be a police officer.”

“You know, that is really creepy.”

Lily winked. “Did I miss anything? Oh, yes. You were busted for fighting when you were in college. Your drunk-off-his-ass friend decided to take on an entire bar. You got caught in the middle. Sucks being sober, doesn’t it? By the way, Nephilim can’t get drunk.”

He blinked. “Well that explains that mystery.”

She continued. “But there is this plant that is totally the equivalent of ten tequila shots, but that is neither here nor there. You’ve never been engaged. You did come close to some pretty little blonde in college, but she totally slept with your roommate.”

He dropped the blade. “How in the hell do you know this stuff?”

Lily flashed a smile. “I’m all knowing—omnificent.”

He stared for a minute. “You mean omniscient.”

“Whatever.” Her grin remained.

He shook his head, picking up the blade. “Anything else you want to tell me about my life? Step up that creep factor a little more?”

She looked straight into his eyes, and as casually as if she’d been asking him to pass the salt, said, “Your mom didn’t kill herself.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Everything seemed to stop, even Michael’s heart. He stared at her, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

“Your mom didn’t kill herself,” she repeated. “She had defensive wounds on her hands that indicate she put up a good fight.”

He couldn’t think. All his life he denied what everyone told him: that his mother had killed herself. He could never reconcile the memories of her with the body he had found on the bathroom floor. That hadn’t been his mom.

It wasn’t until he became a police officer and saw one suicide victim after another that he swallowed his pride. People did crazy things, and no one knew why. There weren’t always answers, and sometimes people’s problems ran so deep no one could ever see them. Now Lily stood there and told him she hadn’t done it. She had been murdered.

He still couldn’t think.

Blindly moving, he grabbed her arm. He ignored the warning that flashed in her eyes. “Who killed my mother?”

She glared at him. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you.” His grip tightened. The knowledge of his mother’s true fate ignited a war of emotions: happiness, despair, sorrow, and fury. “You know everything else but not who killed her? Bullshit.”

Lily jerked her arm, but he held on. “Why would I lie to you about that? I don’t know. No one does. And I’ve looked into it, trust me.”

He knew he was hurting her but couldn’t get his hand to release her. His chest was squeezing. “Tell me who killed my mother, Lily.”

Rafe and Remy entered just then. The two Nephilim slowed as they sensed the tension in the room. “Hey, what the hell is going on?” Rafe called out, his pace picking up.

Lily forced a smile. “Nothing,” she said tightly. “I was just showing him a move.” In a much lower voice, “Let go of me now, or I will break your face.”

Michael’s lips thinned, but he dropped her arm. If all those terrible emotions weren’t rolling through him, he would have been ashamed at the angry red marks he had left on her arm. “This isn’t over,” he whispered.

She threw down the knife; the blade sank through the mat. She started toward the door and spotted Luke hovering there. “Thank you for sticking up for me earlier,” she said as she breezed past.

“Hey, man, what was that about?” Remy asked as he plucked the knife out of the mat.

Michael stared at the door. Lily was gone. “What she said.”

Remy arched a brow, but he didn’t push it. Rafe launched into another round of training, but this time Michael went at it with a fierceness he had never displayed before. His anger and frustration gave him an edge he didn’t have earlier. It was the first time he knocked Rafe down, and Lily wasn’t even there to see it. Nor would she ever know she was the cause of it.

…

“What is going on?” Luke demanded the moment he reached Lily’s side.

She rubbed her arm absently. That was going to bruise. Why had she told Michael the truth like that? “What are you referencing?” she asked tiredly. “There are so many things.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass,” he said as he cast a dark look at one of the Nephilim. “You know exactly what I am talking about. What the hell is going on?”

She sighed as she walked beside him. “You know what happened. You were there—for part of it at least.”

“Is that where you were all day yesterday?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked past him.

“You were with him, weren’t you?” His question exploded through the hallway like gunfire. Several Nephilim en route to the training room stopped. Some were openmouthed, while other’s watched with morbid fascination. This wouldn’t be the first argument they witnessed between Lily and Luke. Their spats were legendary.

“Jesus,” she muttered, picking up her pace.