The sounds of conversation grow louder. There's a coalescing of beating hearts beyond the wooden partition and near the buffet. And muted laughter comes from what Reid assumes is a kitchen as the muffled sound of a tap reaches his ears.

He's busy staring at Kiernan's profile and delighting in the apprehension his every touch and whisper causes.

"I'm very happy with you," Reid praises with a held-back laugh. He doesn't miss the way Kiernan bites at his bottom lip in lieu of a reply. "Eating and keeping your strength. Good boy."

"I'll kill you," Kiernan whispers shakily.

Reid's smile widens. "No, you won't."

He doesn't know when this possessive business began with Kiernan, but he thinks it might have happened when the vampire lost consciousness. He'd stared at Kiernan's slack face, the smears of blood staining his tanned skin, bruises on his wrists, the shallowness of his breath, and thought with finality, Gabriel can't have him.

Kiernan had awoken, still half asleep, and in his haze, before he'd slept off the drugs, he'd slurred nonsense except for one clear name, 'Alexander', which isn't surprising.

Then he'd started whimpering and begging Reid to 'stop' as he'd been dressing the vampire limply, and when Reid didn't, much to his horror, Kiernan began sobbing and vomited. Luckily, the vampire had been close to the edge of the bed, trying to weakly escape whatever enemy he'd believed Reid to be in his sleepy, drugged mind.

Reid didn't tell anyone about that grossness, cleaning it up quietly after Kiernan passed out entirely. And Reid knew he couldn't let Kiernan go back to that hellhole.

Not to mention, Gabriel's certainly going to use Kiernan to get to Reid now that they're connected. Satan will probably have Kiernan report to him regularly on Reid's mental state, and Gabriel will swoop in at his most vulnerable to twist his manipulation.

Also, Kiernan now knows about Asha, so he can't be allowed to go free. Reid might have made sure Kiernan was present this morning for that sole reason.

They pass the partition, and Reid's drawn to a fiery beacon sitting alone at a table for four.

Lovely green eyes find him instantly, as if she's feeling the same tug in her chest that's overtaking him. Rowan's loose red curls brush her shoulders. She's in a black pullover sweater that's too big for her svelte form.

Reid's moving towards her without thinking, and suddenly, he's standing at her table, close enough to see the intense bruising on her face and deep exhaustion in her gaze.

Rowan breathes, "Reid?"

Reid pulls out a chair, sitting across from her. He takes in a breath of relief when Kiernan also sits down beside him and the vampire looks directly at Rowan. She's not a figment, then.

Trance-like, Reid says, "You were supposed to find me."

"I couldn't—how long ago was the auction?"

"Yesterday," Reid replies, frowning. There's a shiver of wrongness that he can't resist while staring into Rowan's watering eyes. She has bruises on her cheeks and her forehead. Her bottom lip has a split. Her gaze is darting wildly with paranoia.

Rowan covers her mouth with slender fingers. Her nostrils flare. She's keeping back the tears beading from the corner of her gaze. "Shit. I knew—I checked the internet, but I didn't think..."

"What happened to you?" Reid asks warily. He tries to reach out to gasp for her fingers that rest on the glossy surface of the table, but she flinches back violently, the legs of her chair tapping the floor.

The overreaction has his stomach sinking. And the sight of her knuckles, raw and bloody, makes him dizzy with terrible imagines.

Reid whispers, desperate, "Rowan?"

Kiernan unexpectedly says with a gentle voice, "They're following you? Whoever did—" He points to her raw knuckles. "I know who you are. Gabriel was interested in you and your tabloid for a time. Lucky for you, he lost interest." He ignores the glare he's receiving from Reid. "Who did this to you? The Sinclairs?"

The reason Kiernan went to vampires is clear when Reid catches sight of the bite on Rowan's throat when her sweater slips down in a nervous shift that creaks her chair.

There are scars.

Reid is having a hard time breathing. He's felt anger, but this is different: calm and at the same time suffocating, he has the urge to hear the slowing of a heartbeat and then bask in the silence of death.

And an even darker urge to take his fangs to Rowan's throat and erase the evidence of whoever dared touch her.

Rowan's mouth falls open. "You're Kiernan Moreno." She swallows thickly, and then there's a familiar spark of insanity in her eyes that draws Reid like a moth to a flame. "Why aren't you with Gabriel? You're protecting Reid from his uncle?"

Kiernan frowns. "How do you know about..."

There's a strange moment when Kiernan looks at the glimpse of purplish skin that peeks from Rowan's sweater cuff. Then, her gaze slips to his forearms and bruised wrists that are resting on the table.

Reid doesn't want to contemplate why those marks look identical.

They both seem to notice that the other notices the bruising at the exact same moment, and they drop their hands on their laps, almost comically, in tandem. If it were any other day, Reid might have laughed.

After clearing her throat, Rowan's gaze flickers down to Kiernan's pink attire. "You, um, like Iron Bunny Sunday?"

"He loves them." Reid cuts in and winks at Kiernan's withering glare. He knows for a fact that Rowan didn't know about Azrael last night. He watches her expression closely. "How did you find out about my uncle?"

"I told you I had a lead."

Reid nods carefully. He has that sinking feeling again.

"I want to tell you everything." Rowan sniffs, and tears fall down her cheeks. "First. I need your promise to protect me—that Kenneth Rainer will protect me. Afterward, I'll give you all the information I have."

Kiernan puts the pieces together faster than Reid's reeling mind and says, "Azrael's after you for this information."

"Yes," Rowan whispers, fearful. "I know how to get to him."

Reid can hear Kiernan's heart beating faster. Within his maker has a wave of apprehension. Reid can't help but agree, this information Rowan has could lead to Azrael's downfall. And if that monster's after her to silence whatever she's found, that could mean they might not make it back to the farmhouse without a fight.

"Give me my phone," Kiernan says, hushed.

Reid shakes his head. He's stuck staring at the injuries marring Rowan's beautiful face. He asks tightly, "Was it him?"

Selfishly, Reid prays that it wasn't Azrael who put his hands on her, because that means there are more wounds she's hiding—wounds that will never heal.

When Rowan's face twists and she nods with a quiver on her lips, Reid's world implodes. He has a ringing in his ears. The rapid beat of his heart is a drum that silences all other sounds.

A touch drags him back to reality.

He blinks down at the slender fingers and familiar signet ring of blue that grazes his thigh.

Kiernan retakes his touch when Reid has mentally stepped away from the edge.

After calming, Reid raises his gaze, and to his horror, Rowan is staring at him with wide eyes and cowering in her chair with such fast inhales that it's a wonder she hasn't lost consciousness.

"I'm so sorry," Reid whispers. He doesn't know what he's apologizing for.

Kiernan whispers against Reid's ear, "He's after her."

"Hush," Reid warns.

Kiernan doesn't listen because he's a bad dog. "He'll kill everyone here to get to her. I have to call Gabriel. He'll protect her."

He lays his hand on Reid's thigh, and this time, he's obviously trying to feel the pockets of Reid's jeans. He isn't deterred by the graze of his fingers over what's definitely not the bulge of a phone.

It's for naught because Reid left Kiernan's phone and wallet at the farmhouse. He'd also left his on the table when he'd fled Asha's presence.

Before Reid can remark on the rudeness of Kiernan's casual molestation of his person, there's a beep as an exit door opens, near a hallway with signs that point to the bathrooms with cartoon drawings of stick figures.

There's a dissociation when Reid looks at who just sauntered inside.

Fair hair. Hazel eyes. He could almost believe he was staring into his father's face, if not for the sharper features and taller height. He isn't breathing when his uncle gives him a fond smile that holds an edge of wickedness.

Reid's back in that apartment with rain battering the window and blood everywhere, dripping from the walls, smeared across the floor, and soaking the bed sheets.

There's a hand grasping his arm and dragging him to stand; his chair topples, drawing the gazes of the other occupants busy eating their breakfasts without a notion of their proximity to their deaths.

Rowan's death.

That thought has Reid snapping back to reality in a whoosh that rings his ears. He grasps Rowan's wrist and drags her towards him; she's hyperventilating quietly. She clings to him. He doesn't turn and run because Azrael will pursue; the dark glint in his eyes threatens that certainty.

Kiernan slips his fingers into the back pockets of Reid's jeans. He doesn't find his phone. He takes in a shaky breath that Reid hears in their closeness, and then Kiernan says to Azrael calmly, "You can have her, but leave him alone."

Rowan whispers, "Screw you."

Azrael says with surety, "Don't fret; she has something of mine that I will be retrieving." His voice is smooth, but to Reid's ears, it's a grating, clawing sound. His vile gaze lingers on Rowan, flickering down, and Reid hears Rowan's faint gasp. "I want to talk to my nephew. We didn't have a chance last time we saw each other."

Reid shoves Rowan without gentleness towards the partition he's inching backward to reach, but his fingers are seized, and a soft hand tries to drag him away. "Rowan—"

Rowan hisses, "He's never alone. Run. Come on!"

As if the words were a signal for chaos, from the vicinity of the others, out of sight, there's a crash of shattering glass and a gun firing. The human patrons scream and, fortunately, don't try to play hero, rushing to the closest hallway that Reid assumes leads to a kitchen because a waitress flees that way.

They're allowed to run away; otherwise, they'd never have made it past Azrael's cultists. It sounds like he brought an army.

Azrael hums. "When was the last time we met, Kiernan?" He taps his fingers against his lips, feigning thought, then, with a laugh, exclaims, "I remember! It was when you helped my brother betray me! The good ol' days. I've always wanted to repay you for that trickery."

Through their bond, Kiernan has a spike of fear at the threat, but on the outside, he's calm as he lies, "Gabriel knows you're here."

Backing up slowly, with Rowan clinging to him, Reid does everything he can to ignore the distracting sounds of battle. He risks looking over his shoulder at a crash. A mask-wearing cultist has been tossed onto a table, scattering chairs and silverware.

"Kill Kenneth Rainer," Azrael exasperates loudly as the cultist staggers to her feet to join what sounds like a fierce battle.

Azrael gives Reid's look of horror a gentle shake of his head, sighing. "They can't seem to do anything right. I'll just have to do it myself. Won't I?"

Reid snarls, "He'll kill you."

"Perhaps..." Azrael laughs lowly. He trails his fingers along the edge of a table as he advances. "Nephew." His hazel eyes darken. "You were supposed to be mine."

The air thickens. Across Reid's skin is a phantom, caressing touch.

"Come to me," Azrael demands.

Reid doesn't allow the mental attack to take root, fighting with all his willpower to break free of the dark influence. And he does. He clenches his fingers to hide the shake.

That was close.

He reaches up with shaky fingers and knows without looking what the warmth on the backs of his fingers is—blood.

He delights in the shock that crosses Azrael's face when what has probably been a successful trick for centuries fails.

Slowly, Azrael wipes the blood that's begun to trickle from his nose and stares at his fingers. He laughs in disbelief, and when he looks up with a wide smile, his dark gaze is locked on Reid with vile interest.

"He's coming," Kiernan whispers calmly. "Run when you have a chance."

And Azrael rushes them.