A shudder ran through me. I didn’t care how many years he’d been dead. Kid was thirteen. Bottom line. I felt a soft poke at my rib cage and brushed the stick aside.

About thirty seconds later, Angel popped back out again. “Not a warm body in sight. What’s going on?”

I started to reply, then asked him, just in case, “By warm body, you aren’t insinuating that there are some cold ones in there, are you?”

“Dead people?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Nope. No dead ones either. But there is a really pissed-off cat.”

“Oh, no!” I brushed off another poke and turned an exasperated glower on my attacker.

He lifted the stick and tried to poke my eye. What the hell?

After brushing him off again and stepping away from the elderly version of Charles Darwin as he attempted to identify a new species, I asked Angel, “Do you think it’s hungry?”

“No idea,” he said, chuckling. “Want me to go ask?”

My eyes widened in awe. “You can talk to cats?”

“Fuck no, I can’t talk to cats. What the hell?” His brows crinkled just under the bandanna he wore, feigning insult if the laughter sparkling in his eyes was any indication. It made him look even cuter. Even younger.

But he did dis me. No way was I taking attitude from a punkass kid with no skeletal system.

“Look, half pint,” I said, curling my frozen fingers into his dirty T-shirt. I drew him closer until we stood nose to nose. “I don’t know how this shit works, so stop being a little bitch, go back in there, and find me a way inside so I can save the cat.” I shoved him. Admittedly, not very hard.

A slow Cheshire grin slid across his handsome face. “Damn, girl. You got a set the size of a Cadillac. And here I thought you were all shy and sweet and helpless.”

When I clenched my teeth and went for his shirt again, he held up his hands in surrender.

“I’m going. I’m going.”

He disappeared just as my fingertips touched his shirt. He was lucky. That time.

While Angel searched for a way inside, I checked out the exterior, which was ridiculous in the dark. I could barely see beyond the otherworld enough to put two feet in front of me, much less find a way inside a locked mansion. Especially with Darwin poking me every five seconds.

“Seriously, dude. You have to stop.”

“Got it!”

I jumped and whirled around. Angel stood behind me.

“There’s a doggy door. A big one. You can squeeze in through there.” He fought another grin. A suspicious one.

“All right, what’s the catch?”

“No catch. It’s just, I don’t think you’ll fit with your clothes on. Probably best if you take them off.” When I deadpanned him, he added, “You wouldn’t want to get them dirty.”

“Not. Happening.”

We strolled around to the back of the house, and he showed me the doggy door. Thankfully, he was right. It was for a large-breed dog. I could actually fit if I wiggled a lot. That should make him happy.

I took off Reyes’s jacket and regretted it instantly. The frigid air swallowed me like an ice-filled ocean, and I gulped a lungful of icy air. Which actually didn’t help. I got onto all fours and pushed the plastic door in. “I totally need a flashlight.”

“No idea why. You’re like the freaking sun.”

But I was busy trying to get my shoulders past the doorframe. It cut into them, then into my ribs, then into my ass. When I felt something in that general area, I said, “Angel, that had better be departed Darwin poking my ass.”

“It is,” he said, stifling a chuckle. “I swear.”

I rolled my eyes and heaved my ass through the suddenly tiny opening. It hurt. The frame scraped across my legs. I was totally going to bruise.

“Okay,” I said, lying on my back to catch my breath. “Where’s the cat?”

But he didn’t have to answer. The cat poked its head around the corner, then pawed at my hair.

“Hey, kitty,” I said a microsecond before it took a swipe at me.

Its needlelike claws took off half my face. I screamed and held on to the shredded remnants. The cat took the opportunity to purr and rub against me.

“Are you kidding?” I asked it from between gritted teeth.

It purred louder and threw in a hoarse meow every so often, twirling in dainty circles. It was fluffy. Gray. Deadly.

I looked at my hand. It was covered in blood. Or, well, one finger had a little blood on the tip. Either way, my face stung like the dickens.

I frowned at it. “All cats are evil. Just FYI.”

“Are you going to play with the cat all night or help me look for food?”

“I’m helping already.” I stood and brushed myself off, then started going through cabinets.

We were in the kitchen. Since Angel couldn’t open cabinet doors, he just kind of walked through them, searching as he went. We decided to split up. Angel took the upstairs, and I took the bottom.

I called out to him. “We should probably look for clues as to the Vandenbergs’ whereabouts while we’re here, too. Maybe they’re being held at a motel or something and the captors looked one up in the phone book. Do you see an open phone book?”

“I don’t think other people process information the same way you do. Bad guys would not look in a phone book to find a motel.”

I paused my search. “Why not?”

“They had a plasma cutter. They clearly planned this shit out. They aren’t going to be looking up a motel at the last minute. A motel where a maid could walk in anytime or where the Vandenbergs could signal an SOS by tapping on the wall or something.”

“You’re right. Too public. Any luck yet?”

“Either they never fed their cat, or they are completely out of cat food.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have to go get some.”

“You know what I’m curious about?” he asked.

“Why you can’t get a date?”

He snorted. “No. Well, kind of, but aren’t you curious about the dog?”

I rose onto my toes to see what the top row of cabinets in the laundry room had to offer. “What dog?”

“The dog that goes with the door.”

I stilled. Why didn’t I think of these things? I was so single-minded. I didn’t have the attention span to focus on anything but the here and now.

“Did you see a dog?” I asked, glancing around warily.

“No. Where’s this go?”

He’d found a door in the back of a supply closet. I stepped inside the closet. “Odd place for a door.”

“It’s a basement.”

“Cool.”

“Wait!” he yelled, but I’d already opened the door.

The stench hit me first, the pungent scent almost knocking me to my knees. I covered my mouth and stumbled back before I realized what I was smelling: death. It stung my nose, and I fought my gag reflex when a terrifying sense of dread washed over me.

“No,” I whispered. My vision blurred instantly. “Please, no.”

“Janey, wait!” Angel said, but I flew down the wooden stairs.

A fluorescent light must’ve been connected to a motion sensor, because it flickered on automatically, and I saw a mass of beautiful black and tan fur. The Vandenbergs had a German shepherd, and their captors had killed it. He lay on a cement floor with only a tiny bit of blood on his side.