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to me.  Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try it, I pulled up the recent call log.  More than likely whoever was on the other side would be annoyed to have me call back at such a late hour, but I still hit the button, holding my breath as I waited to see who would pick up. 
    The line clicked on, but no one said anything.  “Adam?” I tried again, “it’s me.”  Still, no one replied, but neither did they hang up, and I took that as a good sign.  I probably should have hung up, but instead I couldn’t help myself.  “I’ll bet you’re wondering why I called for you tonight.  I’m okay,” I began, as though he’d answered me.  For no particular reason, I went on to give a little summary of what went down in the bar at La Hacienda, leaving out any references to angels or demons, trusting he’d know what was going on by the players involved.  I could almost imagine him listening to me, the eye roll that would come from my describing Sam as menacing.  After I was done telling him about that, I talked about how things were going at work, with Matty and Daphne, my visit with Sam; pretty much everything except for Ben and me.  It was probably the strangest wrong number that caller ever got before, but it made me feel closer to Adam, even if it was more imagined than real.  When I talked myself out, I sat there with that open connection, in the darkness of my apartment.  “Are you still there?” I asked at long length, and was greeted with the click of the lost call.  Unwilling to let it go without getting a final goodbye in, I sent a text, *goodnight*.   I needed that little bit of closure.  After several minutes, my phone flashed with an incoming text message. 
    *Goodnight Mercy*
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    I settled into my new routine without too many wrinkles in the plan.  During the day I was fairly safe as long as I stuck to my apartment or crowded, public places.  Sam apologized for giving me the impression that demons required absolute darkness to move around the earth.  Apparently they preferred the darkness, sticking to shadows whenever possible and direct sunlight made them uncomfortable, but they didn’t turn into a pile of dust like vampires, unfortunately.  My biggest early warning device against them was the lack of an aura, and it became a regular pastime for me to check auras before I even checked faces whenever someone approached. 
    Ben stuck to me like glue whenever he was off duty, and Sam took over on nights I had to work.  He became a regular fixture in the late hours at Eden.  It got so that the only place I was guaranteed a little privacy was in the bathtub, but even then I usually had Mimsy as a companion, given her obsession with bubbles. 
    I was willing to trade a little bit of privacy in order to keep from being demon food.  Azazael hadn’t made a single move so far that I was aware of.  No more strange dreams and no unusual visitors, until one early evening when Daphne came into the club for a drink, an unfamiliar face following close behind. 
    “Hey, Daph,” I smiled in greeting, sliding over her favorite drink, “Who’s your friend?”
    “Hi Mercy, this is Mitch.  Mitch, you’d better be nice to Mercy, she’s my best friend.”
    “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he grinned, revealing very even, very white teeth.  Mitch was a good looking guy overall.  His hair was a little long for my tastes, and I liked my men clean shaven (he had a serious case of nine o’clock shadow), but I could see what attracted her. 
    “Keep an eye on him for me, I’m gonna hit the ladies room.”
    “I can’t make any promises, I am working,” I smiled back at her, but it was slow enough I had time to chat.  The music was loud as usual, and I leaned over a little to make sure he could hear me.  “What can I get you, Mitch?”
    “How about a long, slow, comfortable screw?” His smile grew cheesy, like he thought he’d made the funniest joke on the