'Hungry, Kaitlyn?'

Kaitlyn looked up as a man entered the interrogation room. The door slammed shut behind him. He lifted the plastic bag he was holding with a smile. Kaitlyn's mouth watered at the smell of hot food. It was well after midday and she still hadn't eaten breakfast. Clasped under his other arm was a green manila folder.

He put the food on the table between them as he sat down, then pushed the folder to his right, keeping it out of the way. 'Mind if I join you?' He pulled his chair in closer. 'With all the excitement of the morning, I haven't had time to eat either.'

He was small but lean with blonde hair that hung over his ears. He wasn't wearing a uniform, dressed in trousers and a buttoned-down shirt. Was it supposed to make her feel more comfortable? When he met her eyes, she saw that they were blue. Just great. That'll make things easier. She shifted in her seat as he loosened his tie.

As he began laying out the food, burgers, hash browns, a cup of juice, a small apple pie, the door opened again. This time a much taller man entered, again with no uniform and carrying in three cups of coffee. Expressionlessly he put two of them down alongside the food, taking one for himself.

'It's just a plain white, I'm afraid,' the smaller man said. 'You do drink coffee, don't you?'

'Are you cops?' Kaitlyn asked.

'We're detectives,' the smaller man said. 'We've come all the way from Alabama to speak with you. Sorry we made you wait.'

Kaitlyn dropped her eyes to the table. All the way from home? No wonder she'd been waiting so long. She looked up, then down again. Why did he have to keep looking at her with those blue eyes of his? The tall officer took up position in the corner behind her as he sipped at his coffee. She glanced at the mirror, then looked back down at the table again.

'Go ahead. Eat,' the short officer said as he unwrapped his burger.

Kaitlyn obeyed. She was starving, and there was no reason not to, though she could feel him watching her every move.

'My name is David.' The name made her glance up briefly before she looked down again. 'And my partner here is Charlie. All we need is some information. What happened, Kaitlyn? We only wanted to talk with you. Why were you running? And I'm required to let you know that you have a right not to answer any questions.'

'Am I under arrest?'

'No. But I must remind you that any statements you make may be held against you. You have the right to legal representation too.'

She swallowed a mouthful of juice. 'I don't need a lawyer. I wasn't running from you.'

'Then who were you running from?'

She heard Charlie sipping at his coffee.

'Satan.'

Charlie stopped sipping. David paused mid-bite of his burger. The two officers looked at each other.

Kaitlyn had been thinking about what she would say on the lonely, terrifying drive in the van over. She'd also had plenty of time to think about it in the quietness of her holding cell—those many hours. There was no point in lying. She was terrible at it and they were trained to pick up on it anyway. She'd only make things worse for herself. As fantastic and unbelievable as it all was, she was no criminal and she had nothing to hide. They would either believe her or they would not.

'What do you mean, Satan?' David said, finishing his bite.

Kaitlyn avoided his gaze as she stared at her orange juice, watching as a bead of condensation trickled down the side. Queerly, it made her itch in strange places. 'Satan. The Deceiver. The Beast. Lucifer. Beelzebub. The Antichrist. Mephistopheles ...' She couldn't believe she remembered the last one. 'He has many names.'

'And why is Satan chasing you?'

'Because he wants to fuck me.' Kaitlyn was surprised by how calm she was. She should be panicking, she should be demanding that they release her, but all she felt was a strange numbness. The same numbness she'd felt as she'd watched Zeke and Samuel fly away from her. How could they have done that?

Kaitlyn bit her lip as she stared down at her meal.

'Why does he want to have sex with you?'

His words didn't register.

'Kaitlyn?'

Kaitlyn shook herself, then shrugged. How could she explain it to him when she couldn't even explain it to herself? 'I don't know. Just lucky, I guess.' She frowned.

'How did you end up in Bowdie?'

Kaitlyn sagged. 'Why did you have to say that?'

'Say what?'

'Where I am.' Kaitlyn dropped her head into her hands. It was bad enough knowing that she was in South Dakota—she'd already heard it from the local police. But at least South Dakota was big. Now ... 'He'll know.'

'Who will know what?'

'Satan,' she said through her fingers. 'He'll know where I am.'

The detective paused. 'And those men you were with, who were they?'

'Angels, of course. What else could they be?' She felt her anger rise.

David leaned back in his seat, folding his hands over his abdomen. 'I've heard the reports.' He almost sounded disgusted. 'Men with wings. I don't believe it. Who were they, Kaitlyn?'

'I told you.'

Behind her, Charlie was sipping again. Kaitlyn dropped her hands onto the table and turned to look at the mirror. She knew there were people standing behind it, watching. Probably people more important than David. People who had the power to get her out of here. 'I need to get back to them. They're the only ones who can protect me.'

'What do you mean? We can protect you. We have a whole department full of armed and trained officers,' David said.

Kaitlyn snorted. 'Guns won't do anything. Only fire.' She picked up her burger and nibbled at it. She tasted nothing. All it did was make her feel nauseated. She put it down.

David glanced at the mirror. 'Ash. We found ash at a reported hit-and-run very close to where you work back in Foley. Apparently witnesses say a man died there—but we found no body and no DNA. Only the burned remains of clothing—and one more thing.' He nodded at the mirror.

Moments later, the door opened. Kaitlyn looked up as a third officer handed something to David. It was an evidence bag, and inside it was ...

'My bag!' She reached for it. 'Can I have it?'

'You can have it when you answer some more questions.' He placed it on the table between them.

Kaitlyn lowered her arm.

He nodded at her food. 'You should eat, Kaitlyn.'

She picked up her burger but didn't eat, watching as he slid over the folder in front of him and opened it. He pulled out a sheet of paper and gave it to her. 'Do you know this man?'

Kaitlyn stared at the picture, again feeling strangely numb. Mayonnaise dripped from her burger onto the table. 'He called himself Father Bartholomew. He was at my house.'

He took the picture back and handed over another. Kaitlyn winced and turned her face away. It was Father Bartholomew again—dead. Just like she'd last seen him, his blood on the carpet, his head smashed in. She tried to hand it back but David wouldn't take it. Twisting her mouth, she put down her burger.

'Can you explain that?' he asked.

'He came to my house to kill me.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'So you killed him in self defence.'

'No,' she said quickly. 'An angel killed him.'

'One of the angels you were with?'

'No. One of Satan's angels.' She paused. 'Did the-did the other man die? The one with the knife?'

David took back the priest's photo and pulled out another. 'You mean this man?'

He tried to hand it over but Kaitlyn turned her head again. 'No. That's all right. I get the picture.'

She raised her eyes to his, then looked away. She started tapping her foot. Those eyes of his! Why did they have to be blue? Why did he have to be blonde? Every word he spoke, every move he made, reminded her of him. It had been days since she'd last dreamed about him. It had been so much longer still since he'd last done anything with her. Beneath the table, Kaitlyn crossed her legs, then uncrossed them.

'Something wrong, Kaitlyn?'

'I just ... don't feel so good. I don't-I don't like small rooms.' She turned to the mirror, then away again at the sight of David's reflection. 'When can I go home?'

'Not for a while. Considering you're involved in a murder, we can hold you for up to seventy-two hours.'

Her eyes widened. 'Three days? I can't stay here for three days!'

David just gazed at her.

'I have-I have to go ... He's looking for me. I have to go before darkness falls. If I sleep ... I'll tell him. He'll know where I am. And then they'll come.'

'Who will come?'

'The dark angels!' she snapped. 'The ones who killed Father Bartholomew! They'll take me! They'll take me to him. And then he'll fuck me and the world will end.' She jabbed her finger at him. 'And it'll be all your fault.' She turned to the mirror and gestured wildly. 'It'll be all of your fault.'

Silence filled the little room as she turned her eyes back to the table.

David calmly folded his hands in front of him. 'Do you have any history of mental health conditions, Kaitlyn? Schizophrenia? Bipolar?'

Kaitlyn dropped her head onto her arms with a sigh.

The interrogation continued for another hour. Somehow, Kaitlyn managed to finish her food, though she was feeling sick afterwards. The further they got through the interview, the more frustrated they became. Unsurprising, considering they were dealing with a "crazy" person. And Kaitlyn began to fear that they may not let her go at all. Perhaps, they would take her directly from the police station to a hospital.

It was late in the day when they were finally done and she was returned to her holding cell.

She'd already spent the better part of her morning there. It was small, bare and boring, with a bed, a toilet and a small table. Everything was nailed to the floor. A small window with frosted glass looked out onto a hallway. Every now and then a smudged figure would walk past. There was a camera up in one of the corners. A small white clock ticked above the window. The door was made of steel.

Kaitlyn sat down on the bed, her hands clenched in her lap. At least they'd handed over her bag but she couldn't do much with a wad of cash and a dead phone.

She couldn't believe that only a week ago she was living a normal life—a shitty one, yes—but at least a normal one. What regular person would ever think they'd end up in a prison cell under suspicion of murder?

But that wasn't what bothered her the most. What bothered her was that she was alone. Where were her angels? Where was Jacob? She couldn't believe that Zeke and Samuel had just left her like that.

Keep calm, Kaitlyn. We'll get you back.

But how and when? Seventy-two hours!

The hours ticked by. Four times the door opened. And each time Kaitlyn stood hopefully, expecting to see Jacob or Zeke or Samuel, only to be disappointed. Twice she was given some food. Once, an officer came in just to check on her. A second officer brought her in some books. But they were old and ratty and some of the pages were missing. Besides, they made her tired.

Too tired.

Kaitlyn looked up at the clock, her pulse pounding in her throat. They'd dimmed the lights since six o'clock, and soon they would turn them out completely. She stood, pacing the cell. After all the excitement and action today, her eyelids were already getting heavy.

She stopped and looked up at the camera. 'Can I get some coffee?'

They obliged, but only twice before they stopped answering her requests. Kaitlyn folded her arms as she tried to control her rising panic. She found herself looking up at the clock every two minutes, hoping against hope that the angels would get to her soon.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Her panic was rising. She wiped her sweaty palms down her pants legs. She stood and paced, then sat back down again, only to get up moments later. Her eyelids were getting so heavy she was forced to jump on the spot and smack the side of her head to keep them open.

Kaitlyn looked up at the camera. 'If you keep me in here, I'll fall asleep and he'll find me! He'll find you!' Her voice echoed around the room.

She waited but nobody responded, and Kaitlyn sat back down on her bed with a sob. All she could do was hope that he wouldn't visit her in her dreams tonight—like the last few nights. She hoped he remained angry. It was possible his dark forces didn't know things were going wrong. It was possible they didn't know she was vulnerable. Things might not be as bad as she was thinking.

It was possible.

Zeke's words suddenly came to mind: Once you step outside, our enemies' heads will turn and the darkness will irrevocably creep towards us, bringing all kinds of mischief.

Kaitlyn shivered. If Satan's dark angels could sense her, then it was reasonable to assume that Satan himself could feel her too. And if not, his angels would at least inform him, wouldn't they? Though, admittedly, she had no idea how any of this angel stuff worked, it was reasonable to assume that he would know. In some way or another, he would know that something wasn't going to plan. That something wasn't right.

And he would be desperate to discover what—and Kaitlyn knew she would be the one to tell him, thanks to that damn detective. Even now she couldn't stop repeating the name in her head.

Bowdie, Bowdie, Bowdie.

Shit.

She swallowed and wiped her lips with a trembling hand. She looked over towards the sink. The police had left her some toiletries, soap, a toothbrush, a comb, but though she felt dirty and unkempt, she refused to set herself up for bed.

Raking her fingers down her face in frustration, she leaned her back against the wall, only to jerk upright moments later when her eyelids slipped shut.

Immediately, she pushed herself off from the bed and sat on the floor. It was concrete and hard against her backside, but cold too—which was good.

The steel frame of the bed ached against her back. The clock ticked. Fewer and fewer figures passed by her window—until they eventually stopped altogether. She shifted awkwardly, not out of pain but out of the usual discomfort. Satan was close. She could feel it between her legs. She could feel it in the tingling in her nipples. Only a dream away.

Only a dream away.

Kaitlyn's chin dropped to her chest. She lifted it up with a start. Then the lights suddenly flicked off. Her heart started to pound. Pulling her knees to her chest, Kaitlyn bit hard into her kneecap. Again, it did nothing. Only minutes later, her head fell back and she dreamed.